₊⊹ "if best friends were apples, I'd pick you" ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
𐙚 about me
epelle here, 20+, she/they.
trying to balance my college life with my other side quest. i have free will, therefore i'll write whatever comes to my mind.
nonchalant like vernon, yearning like woozi, ultimate side-hustling like seungkwan, and yapping like wonwoo.
epelle's other half @withlovelatte (dk them)
"why apple?" because apple. duh. it's the whole concept.
my interest !!
𖧧 "You are the apple of my eye." ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆
𐙚 applepie links
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𐙚 important notes
MDNI, as most of my writing content always has suggestive themes (nsfw/sfw). i will block you. i don't tolerate any hate here, especially hate comments, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, predators, or misogyny. get out of here.
i mostly write seventeen fics for now, wtv it is. i like to experiment more with my writing in the future to improve. at the end of the day, i write purely out of entertainment cuz it's something i feel comfortable with.
feedback is very much appreciated. i don't mind a little constructive criticism, it helps me become more aware and grow. we're all here to learn and improve, so pls be kind :)
lmk if you want to be mutuals. at the end of the day, im just a ms. apple who writes for fun.
all my writings are written by a human, i value human's creativity and effort. all rights reserved. don't feed my works into ai, thank you.
SUMMARY: You didn’t mean for it to turn into a betting competition. And yet, here you are on a mission to save that nerd from your calculus class that you've known from last semester before he gets dicked down.
PAIRINGS: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
GENRE: fluff, drama, comedy, angst, university au, smut
add tags❦︎: biker!wonwoo, nerd!wonwoo, mingyu is his best friend, friends to lovers, fake dating(?), reader majored in chemical engineering, winnie the pooh reference, ex!seungcheol, disgustingly in love, lil crack, green flag is sexy wdym, bestie!doremiz, found family trope hinted, sun x moon dynamics, chan as childhood twin fr, she fell first but he fell harder type of shii aye.
❤︎ part 1, part 2 ❤︎
A/N: hello ladies n apples, another masterpiece. shoutout to my friend for recommended me 'to all the boys i've loved before', as a non romcom person i actually enjoyed it w/o me realized it lol.
It’s not that deep.
Of course it is, to them. But you wouldn’t take it lightly.
The thing about you is that you’re always ready to hate anyone’s boyfriend at a moment’s notice. You need approximately zero seconds to prepare. Literally just give you a heads-up and you’re on it.
But again, for a girl like you who prioritizes eating and sleeping, your choice of major is… questionable.
At least for now.
Though, you don’t really care. Your situationship only lasted a while, and you decided never to do that again, especially not in the middle of finals week.
Which is hell.
Never again. You almost failed. Not literally, but enough to make you lose track of everything. It’s practically a universal rule at this point: number one, never get into a relationship during exam week.
Thank God you passed this semester. If not, you would’ve gone insane seeing those red marks on your transcript.
You underestimate yourself. You should’ve crashed out. And it’s all Mingyu’s fault for introducing his friend to you in the first place. You thought you could handle it since Mingyu always had time to party around despite his deadass architecture projects but hell, you never expected to end up on the verge of failing.
Studying may be the only thing you’re good at.
But you know what else you’re good at?
Sleeping.
Either way, reminder: always listen to your friends when you’re on the wrong path. Chan already warned you.
Did you listen?
Obviously not.
And the moment you went into full disaster mode and ran back to him, you swear you almost punched him when he hit you with that smug “I told you so.”
You were hunched over one of the campus cafeteria tables, impatiently waiting for your friend to finish his class. The new semester had just started, but honestly, you felt so, so, so far from immaculate right now. You even considered skipping a few lectures but given your CGPA last semester, which was shit as hell, that wasn’t an option.
If you wanted to graduate this year, you seriously needed to lock in.
No relationships. No sleeping all over campus. No exchanging memes at 3 a.m.
Okay, maybe not the last part. You can’t stop being funny. It’s part of your personality. At this point, if you were going to be with someone, they’d have to be at least funnier than you to catch your heart completely.
Maybe Seungcheol wasn’t the case. He was charming, okay? No one could blame you for wanting something everyone wanted.
And you turned out just like the rest of them.
Disappointment.
The entire semester break, you ended up bedrotting all day. Eat. Sleep. Maybe grieve your failed relationship.
Whatever.
You’d like to think it wasn’t that deep. Love does distract you from important things, something you swore you were never going to let happen again.
“Ugh, I can’t believe Mr. Pi said attendance is compulsory,” a voice piped up behind you. “Seriously, since when did the campus care about their students’ attendance?”
You were sitting at the opposite end of the table, hood up, back facing them.
“What a drag,” her friend added with a chuckle. “That just means you get to see your former darling on campus now.”
“Cheol,” she scoffed. “Speaking of him, maybe I should get him back. Heard his little situationship failed. Why did he choose such a boring girl?”
Ouch.
The mention of his name almost made you slide to the floor right then and there. It was depressing. Yes. What a way to start your day.
Great.
You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they clearly failed to notice your existence.
Not that it mattered. You preferred it that way.
“Why not try to get him back?” her friend suggested.
She scoffed again, snapping her compact mirror shut. “He wouldn’t even want to talk to me.”
You knew that voice. Jia. Seungcheol’s ex. She never liked you when you and him started getting close.
Or maybe she just didn’t like anyone in general. You guessed she hated herself too. You didn’t really know what her deal was, except that she had a problem with you simply because you were close to her man.
You couldn’t care less.
Or at least, you tried not to.
“I have an idea,” her friend continued. “Why not make him jealous? Like that guy over there.” She jerked her chin toward someone at the vending machine.
Your eyes darted in the direction she pointed.
Leather jacket. Jeans. Black-framed glasses.
“Him?” Jia bristled. “Isn’t that guy sometimes hanging out with Mingyu? Looks kind of like a nerd. Never really saw him at parties.”
“He’s not a party type,” her friend said. “Why not make a move on him? Catch Seungcheol’s attention. You can’t hook up with his friends—they’re too loyal.”
“Not really my type, but his face does give,” Jia mused. “I’ll give it a shot. Maybe in less than three days, I’ll have him.”
Wow.
You almost couldn’t believe it. People really lived in this level of shallowness.
Their chatter slowly faded.
You pulled your hood down and turned around.
That rhymed.
You never expected people to bet over feelings like they were throwing darts. It’s almost similar to how you chose your major, impulsively yet somehow took longer deciding what to eat after a morning lecture.
You think people are low, and yet here you are apologizing to your door after accidentally bumping into it.
Wait.
Now that you think about it…
You glanced at the same guy from the vending machine. He was in your calculus class last semester.
What was his name again? Oh, yeah.
Jeon Wonwoo.
You didn’t talk much, but you might’ve left a bad impression on him.
You were flunking that semester, so you always ended up sitting beside him, whispering “how?” and “what?” to almost every question. Probably annoying. You were aware of that. But he never seemed bothered. Always stoic. Quiet. Patient.
And you kept doing it because you were shameless and convinced you’d never see him again.
Oh my God.
That’s the guy they’re choosing?
Honestly, if it weren’t for him, you would’ve already failed that class.
Now you felt… obligated to save him.
Well. Not obligated. But—
Okay, fine. Obligated.
He didn’t deserve to get played.
Then you wondered: if it were someone else, someone you didn’t know, would you do the same?
“….”
Yeah.
It doesn’t matter. You could just think of it as returning a favor to your calculus savior.
(Even if it was completely one-sided.)
Your legs bounced under the table, almost violently. You were obviously deep in thought about the possibility of an unwanted conversation from yesterday. The rush of anxiety felt way too similar to when you fumbled with your answer sheet outside the exam hall.
Jia must’ve made her move by now.
You shouldn’t care. Who even are you to care?
And yet, you found yourself thinking about it.
Chan noticed your shaking leg, glanced at you, then exchanged a look with Seungkwan beside him.
“What’s on your mind?” Chan spoke first.
You answered almost immediately. “Nothing.”
He and Seungkwan exchanged another look.
“You’re biting your nails,” Seungkwan pointed out, “and you’ve been scribbling circles on your book for the past five minutes.”
You stopped. Then glanced at them. “Sugar rush.”
“You didn’t eat any candy today,” he replied.
“Well, maybe I did. What would you know?” The answer came out more defensive than you intended.
A brief silence settled over the table.
Chan tried again. “Did you perhaps, perchance not get over your failed situationship?”
“You can’t say perchance,” you frowned. “We’ve talked about this. No mention of that guy.”
“So it is about him,” Seungkwan confirmed.
You scoffed lightly. “It’s not about him.”
“It is about him,” he shot back. “Judging by your reaction, he’s definitely living rent-free in your head. Come on. He wasn’t good for you and you know that.”
“It’s not about him,” you insisted, aggressively scribbling over nothing in your notebook.
Another silence.
You glanced up at them and sighed when they were still staring.
“Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot?”
Chan frowned. “What? No. What kind of question is that?”
“I think my under-eye circles are adding to the aesthetic,” you said seriously.
“Look, there’s nothing aesthetically pleasing about your failed love story.”
“It’s not about him!” you snapped.
The librarian let out a sharp “Shh!” in your direction.
After that, the three of you toned it down.
“What is it exactly about?” Seungkwan leaned closer. “You could’ve just told us. You look so troubled it’s making me nosy.”
You hesitated, debating whether you should say anything. But if you kept it in your head any longer, it might actually explode.
So you told them anyway. After a moment, Chan and Seungkwan exchanged a look.
“You know what,” Seungkwan started, leaning back in his chair, “this is your time to shine. Payback at Jia.”
Chan chimed in, “Yeah. What she did to you was not cool. She’s the reason you were spiraling over that guy.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “No. That is definitely not what you two are thinking.”
“Oh, come on,” Seungkwan whined. “She literally harassed you when you were with Seungcheol, and it wasn’t even your fault!”
Another loud “Shh!” was directed at your table.
“I mean…” Chan trailed off, lowering his voice. “It’s not that bad. You already know him. Who knows? He might actually… you know… feel the same—”
“No.” You stabbed your pen into your notebook. “I doubt it. He looks nonchalant. He sounds nonchalant. I am not risking my time like last semester. Have you not seen how fucked up I was?”
Sometimes you feel like the universe deliberately puts you in alarming situations. You didn’t need more character development. You were smart enough at this point.
“I thought you guys were, like, friends. Buddy-buddy level,” Seungkwan said with a shrug.
Sighing, you dragged a hand down your face. “That’s the thing, Boo. I am not buddy-buddy with him. We shared one class. That’s it.” You slumped in your seat. “He’d be weirded out if I suddenly went up to him like, ‘Hey, someone’s betting on fucking you within three days. Be careful.’”
Chan and Seungkwan exchanged another look.
This time, it came with a mischievous grin.
“Ask him out,” Chan said simply.
You almost choked. “Excuse me? Are you crazy? I’m not—”
“Shh!” the librarian snapped again.
You lowered your voice, glaring at them. “I’m not doing that. Why the hell should I date him just to bruise Jia’s ego?”
Seungkwan scoffed, crossing his arms. “Girl, be serious. She harassed you the entire time you were with that guy. You nearly fucked up your semester—be grateful you even passed, barely. And was it worth it? For a man who didn’t deserve you and only gave you a shitty situationship?” He leaned forward. “Now she’s about to mess with your calculus bestie—who literally contributed to you passing and you’re just going to let that happen?”
You opened your mouth to argue. Nothing came out. Because, unfortunately, Seungkwan had a point.
You were stupid for letting yourself get distracted by something that was never worth it to begin with.
“…I’m not close with him,” you muttered weakly.
Chan hummed. “So? Get closer.”
“That would be awkward.”
“You’re always awkward,” he shot back.
“Shut up, loser. You can’t even hold a proper conversation with a girl.”
“Okay, that was a personal attack,” he huffed.
“I’m not as unhinged as I could be, and I need everyone to be grateful for that.”
“Wow,” Seungkwan muttered. “The weather’s really nice today.”
You shot him a glare.
As much as you hated the idea, your friends might be amazed at how much you’d already fucked around without actually finding anything out.
Yeah, so unfortunately, the more you fuck around, the more you find out.
So why the hell were you standing there, watching him get flirted with by Jia on a random Tuesday afternoon? It felt as random as Soonyoung showing up with a tub of kimchi in flip-flops.
Judging by his reaction, he was stoic as always. Meanwhile, Jia was trying way too hard, battling her lashes at him like it was a competitive sport.
You weren’t gullible, but you were nosy.
As much as you wanted to yell, “Girllll, he does not give a fuckkkk,” across the hall, yet you didn’t.
Instead, you walked toward your car. Halfway there, you stopped in your tracks, conflicted. Should you intervene or just walk away? He wasn’t an idiot. Surely he was smart enough to know he was getting played.
You muttered a curse under your breath. Even a smart student like you got distracted by someone like Seungcheol. So what made you think Wonwoo wouldn’t?
Human minds and hearts are complicated.
Seungkwan did a damn good job guilt-tripping you.
You fumbled in your pocket for your phone, scrolling through your contacts to see if you still had his number. You’d only exchanged it for academic purposes. Strictly.
When your finger landed on his name, you didn’t hesitate.
You called.
The thought of him ending up in the same position you were in made something bitter curl in your chest. You didn’t want anyone to go through that. It was hell. Dramatic, maybe but still hell.
Maybe you just appreciated Wonwoo more than you admitted. He did help you a lot with your studies.
You felt… indebted.
“Hello? ____? Is that you?”
His voice came through, and your heart immediately started pounding. A voice you’d tried to forget now sounded painfully familiar. When he said your name, you fumbled.
Great start.
“Oh, um… hey,” you began, suddenly shy. “My car… the tire kind of blew out, and I don’t really know how to, you know…”
You let the sentence hang, hoping he’d understand.
There was a pause.
“Ah, I see,” he replied. “I’ll come to you. Stay there. You’re at the campus parking lot?”
“Yes.”
The call ended.
Wow.
You couldn’t believe he agreed that easily, even though it had been months since you last spoke about anything other than calculus equations.
Meanwhile, Wonwoo was grateful for the interruption.
The girl, whose name he still hadn’t bothered to learn had been clinging to him since yesterday. He wasn’t oblivious to her intentions.
He just wasn’t interested.
So when his phone rang, he welcomed the excuse.
What he didn’t expect… was you.
Like, you you.
Hearing your voice again after a while did something to him. Yesterday’s persistent flirting had been mildly irritating. Your voice, on the other hand, felt oddly calming.
And now he was here, crouched beside your car, fixing a tire that you claimed was blown.
“Hey,” he called when you turned around. “Are you okay? Did you wait long?”
You almost stammered again. You weren’t sure if the air suddenly turned cold or if you were just getting cold feet.
“Ah, no… not long.” You gestured awkwardly toward the car. “I just needed help. If you know how to change a tire.”
His gaze flickered to the car, then back to you. “Yeah. Give me your keys.”
You handed them over obediently.
“I’m not really good with this stuff,” you added. “My friends had class, so I didn’t want to bother them.”
Flaming lies.
Your dad raised you to be an independent woman. You absolutely knew how to change a tire.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” you murmured, watching him work. “You must’ve had class, right?”
“It’s fine,” he said, crouched down, focused on the wheel. “I just finished. Good timing, actually.”
You nodded. “Oh.”
You were definitely trying not to make it obvious that you’d just saved him from Jia’s relentless seduction.
Less than forty-five minutes later, he was done.
“Thanks,” you smiled. “Sorry you had to come all the way here.”
He wiped his hands with a napkin and gave you a small smile. “It’s alright. It’s funny how, out of everyone you could’ve called, you called me.”
“But you came anyway,” you replied.
He looked at you, and you looked back.
Your throat suddenly went dry.
He didn’t break eye contact. It felt like he was staring straight into your soul.
This was only the second day Jia tried to flirt with him.
Tomorrow might be her last attempt.
Unacceptable.
“Um,” you broke eye contact first. “For some reason, I’m feeling a little off today.”
“Oh? Are you unwell?” he asked.
You shook your head. “Not exactly. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on.”
Silence.
He blinked.
You blinked.
You had never wanted to crawl into a grave more in your life.
“I—I’m sorry. That was too forward,” you rushed. “I just mean you look… familiar. Like my next boyfriend.”
He blinked again.
Still processing.
You scrambled for your keys. “Okay! Thanks again for today. I really like your jacket. I hope it’s made of boyfriend material.”
You mentally cursed yourself as you rushed into your car, started the engine, and sped off.
In every possible way, this was ridiculous. More ridiculous than Jeonghan using a frozen baguette from Paris as a hammer.
You seriously needed to have a dick in your personality to keep things in your pants.
To put it differently,
you don’t have a dick. You don’t own any balls, unfortunately.
Maybe you aren’t resilient enough. Or maybe you’re just not audacious enough to be like Jia with her relentless flirting.
One talent you were proud of was flirting without actually catching feelings.
Not something to brag about. Really.
The last time you fumbled your words this badly was when you were with Seungcheol.
This isn’t about him.
But this is Wonwoo you’re talking about. You feel like you’re taking advantage of him. Well… technically not. According to Chan, you’re just helping out. Out of care.
You don’t want to be a snollygoster.
You definitely don’t want him to think of you that way, toying with people’s feelings like they’re dodgeballs.
And why do you care so much about what he thinks of you anyway? You were already shameless before you even knew his name.
You bumped your head lightly against the bathroom door and let out a loooong sigh.
You didn’t know if you could face him after yesterday. He probably thinks you’re weird for suddenly hitting him with the lamest pickup lines in history.
You were panicking, okay?
Then you heard voices entering the bathroom.
“Seriously, what’s with this guy?” a familiar voice complained. “I tried small talk and he wouldn’t even look at me.”
Jia.
Here you were, eavesdropping. Again. You leaned closer to the stall door.
“I even wore low-rise jeans and everything. He doesn’t seem interested at all,” she scoffed. “Is he into men or something?”
You rolled your eyes. What did it matter to her anyway?
Their voices blurred until you caught the next line clearly.
“Fine,” she said, probably applying gloss. “I’ll just lock us in the janitor’s closet. Maybe that’ll bring out his real self. You know what they say—it’s always the quiet ones.”
Their laughter faded.
You stared at the door.
She was willing to go that far? Just to get back at her ex?
You used to like Seungcheol too, but you weren’t that crazy.
That wasn’t love for sure, definitely close to possession.
“….”
Wait.
This might be her last day to try.
Something gnawed at you.
Technically, Wonwoo didn’t need rescuing. But hell, you’d rather eat dirt than let Jia ruin your calculus buddy.
...
In the library, you hoped Jia hadn’t gotten to him yet.
You knew where to find Wonwoo. He always studied there after class. At least last semester.
Nothing wrong with trying.
You texted Chan to update you on Jia’s whereabouts, and surprisingly, he was very committed to the mission.
You just needed time.
Wow.
You felt like a possessive girlfriend already.
Anyway.
When Chan sent you a video attachment, you did not expect it to be Seungkwan “accidentally” spilling banana milk on Jia’s top.
You never told them to do that.
But apparently, you were enabling chaos.
Sometimes you feel like a bad person. At least that’s what seven-year-old Chan would’ve said.
Your eyes finally landed on a familiar pair of glasses.
He looked good.
What.
You absentmindedly fixed your hair and smoothed your clothes before walking over, placing your bag and books beside him.
He looked up.
You gave him a sheepish smile.
You used to study together. Strictly academic of course.
Now it felt like you had ulterior motives.
“Hi,” you said, as if you hadn’t practically confessed yesterday.
He blinked. “Hey. Studying?”
You nodded and sat down.
God, you used to send him random updates about how Chan’s disgusting farts and now this felt weirdly intimate.
You studied quietly beside him. One of his earphones was in, the other dangling.
He was completely focused.
“You know,” you said suddenly, “photosynthesis is basically how plants fart if you think about it.”
He looked up slowly.
“Pardon?”
No shit, your personality truly is just like that one drawer in the kitchen that’s just full of random stuff.
You tried again. “Chan did a backflip yesterday.”
“He did?” He actually sounded impressed.
“No,” you said flatly. “He’s too chicken. But it would’ve been cool.”
Silence.
Then he went back to studying.
Same old you, random TMI if it wasn't you.
“So…” you started. “Are you busy after this?”
“I have quizzes to submit,” he replied.
“Anything after that?”
“I need to pick up my family’s dog from daycare. Then send my bike to the workshop.”
“How about 6 p.m.?”
“I’ll probably be home by then. Why?”
You looked at him.
“So I can ask you out to dinner.”
Smooth.
He turned fully toward you now.
“…I don’t mind,” he said slowly, “but can we do it another day?”
Internally, you screamed.
“Okay,” you nodded quickly. “But I’m bad with directions. Even though I’ve had my license for a year.”
“I’ll send you the location.”
“How about your apartment?”
He stopped.
“Oh—I think I dropped something,” you said abruptly, leaning down.
He instinctively leaned down too. “What is it?”
You looked straight into his eyes.
“My jaw.”
He froze.
You sat back down like nothing happened.
Never mind.
Your phone buzzed violently. You received bombarded messages from Chan with his constant “abort mission” spamming in your phone.
Jia was on her way.
You needed to move.
“Do you do weddings?” you asked suddenly.
He blinked. “What?”
“Because someone I know needs someone important.”
“Depends. What kind of role?”
“The groom.”
Another silence.
“…What are you trying to say?” he sighed.
You couldn’t say, Someone’s trying to trap you in a janitor’s closet and going to fucked you up.
You don’t confront problems. You parkour over them.
And this wasn’t technically your problem.
“I like you,” you blurted.
He blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“I like you, Wonwoo. So… wanna be my boyfriend? I can do a backflip.”
“I—”
“Go out with me. I’m good at girlfriend stuff. I’m not a great kisser, but I can do origami.”
Your phone buzzed again.
Jia incoming.
“Look, I’m not sure—”
Before he could finish, you crashed your lips against his.
Your brain has officially clocked out.
He went still from shock.
You kissed him again, deeper this time, heart pounding.
When you pulled back, his eyes were wide.
You leaned close, barely brushing his lips. “Be mine,” you whispered. “Please.”
He didn’t move away.
So you kissed him again.
This time, slower.
You felt him stiffen. Then, gradually, melt into it. For once, you didn’t use your brain. The only other time you shut it off like this was during an exam.
Your head tilted slightly as you leaned closer to him, practically crushing him beneath your weight. You heard a small groan escape his lips.
Then he slowly grabbed your arms and pulled you back. You stared at him.
You couldn’t blame him, though.
“Listen…” he breathed, your faces only inches apart. When you tried to lean in again, he grunted and covered your mouth with his large palm. “Damn it, I’m trying to talk here. Be good.”
That made you freeze obediently.
Apparently.
He started again. “This is too sudden. I need you to be clear with me.”
You nodded.
“Good,” he said. “I’m sorry, but this is moving too fast—”
“Are you rejecting me?” you asked softly, your voice barely there. Your eyes looked like a kicked puppy.
He immediately stammered. The dejected look on your face made him feel like an asshole. “What? No! I wasn’t— I was just…” He paused, thinking. “I meant we should at least actually get to know each other.”
Oh.
Maybe you did a good job weaponizing your eyes. You never thought that trick would actually work. Or maybe you weren’t acting at all. Maybe you just hated the idea of being rejected. That old, familiar feeling of being unlovable creeping up on you again.
From a distance, you heard someone huff and stomp their feet.
That was probably Jia.
Mission accomplished.
Then... what?
Dear Chan,
whose presence I barely tolerate,
I must say, I’m beginning to think we made a mistake yesterday. Because there’s no way in hell I can look at Wonwoo the same anymore. You did a great job cockblocking Jia, and she looked pissed, alright.
Then again… at what cost?
Oh, where do I begin? I kissed him. And I asked him to be my boyfriend. I’m starting to think I’m about to die today—
“You know,” Chan started from beside you, “you can just say it to my face. You don’t need to write a whole email on your phone.”
You stopped typing and looked at him.
“It’s my inner monologue,” you replied. “My personal digital diary.”
“You do know I’m under no obligation to make it make sense to you, right?”
“Know thy lane and stayeth the fuck in it.”
“What the hell is that?”
“The prophecy,” you shot back.
“The prophecy can kiss my ass. That’s not a prophecy if you just made it clear it was a misunderstanding,” he retorted.
“Well—not my fault that you and Boo kept egging me on to hit him up,” you said dramatically, flailing your arms.
His face suddenly brightened.
He had spotted Wonwoo.
Wonwoo had just parked his bike, removing his helmet. Looking effortlessly handsome.
“Oh look, it’s your boyfriend,” Chan nudged you, nearly knocking you over.
You rubbed your arms and glared at him. “He’s not.”
“Might as well be soon,” he grinned.
Then he added, “By the way, that guy was looking for you.”
“Oh.” That’s all you managed.
Chan studied your face. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on him.”
“I’m not,” you huffed immediately.
But his eyes drifted past you toward Wonwoo again, and he let out a low, impressed whistle.
Black bike. Probably some BMW S1000RR–style superbike. His hair was slightly tousled after pulling off the helmet, and his jacket clung to him in a way that felt illegal.
You found yourself staring a little too long.
“Forget Seungcheol because goddaaaamn, papi,” Chan exaggerated, completely awestruck. “You know what? Get that bag, girl. I’d kiss him too.”
You blinked and turned to him with a frown.
“What?” he stared back.
“It’s not the time for eyefucking. I’m in a crisis.”
“So? Just try being in love with him. Who knows, maybe you’ll actually fall for him eventually.”
Before you could slap him across the face, he suddenly grabbed you.
“Chan—what the fu—”
He shoved you forward.
You stumbled straight into Wonwoo’s arms.
Your eyes widened. You looked up at him, then at Chan, who was already giggling and running away.
Slowly, you stepped back from Wonwoo. “Sorry about that. Chan’s being annoying.”
You cleared your throat and fixed your hair.
“It’s alright,” he replied, setting his helmet aside. “Are you okay now?”
You blinked, trying not to fumble your words at how gentle his voice sounded. Your face was heating up.
“Oh—um. I’m alright. Really.”
Then yesterday hit you.
Sure, Jia might’ve backed off… but was she really gone? Her ego was as big as the Pacific Ocean.
“So… how’s my boyfriend doing?” you suddenly said.
He froze mid-motion while adjusting his bike key and slowly turned to stare at you.
“…Boyfriend?”
God, you wanted to eat dirt.
But you know what they say, the more shameless you are, the greater you become.
“Yeah. Boyfriend,” you said. “Am I not your girlfriend?”
He paused, about to say something, then closed his mouth.
“Who decided that?” he asked. “I don’t remember being your boyfriend.”
Since he didn’t deny it… technically, that’s a win.
“Well, you did,” you replied casually. “The moment I kissed you, I already declared us boyfriend and girlfriend.”
He stared at you, incredulous.
“Why?” you asked softly. “You don’t want me to be your girlfriend?”
There it was again, that look. That voice. Like you were one breath away from crying.
He carefully considered his words. Instead of answering, he grabbed his bag and took your hand.
“Let’s go. I’ll walk you to class.”
And just like that, he led you forward.
Oh my God.
You pressed your lips together, trying so hard not to break into a stupid grin as he guided you.
He didn’t say yes. But he didn’t say no either.
And somehow… that made it worse.
…
Sometimes, having someone who waits for you is a great thing.
And the problem is… you don’t know how long this whole “boyfriend-girlfriend” thing between you and Wonwoo is going to last.
You want to scream. Maybe cry a little.
What the hell are you even doing?
Go with the flow?
The only thing flowing right now is your shameless, stupid chain of actions and their consequences.
You’re fucked.
Not literally.
At least not yet. Maybe later.
So what now? You’re going to see his face every day without the constant reminder of, hey, this was all a mistake and you’re about to get exposed!
Chan keeps convincing you that you’re not messing with him. Maybe it didn’t start on the right foot, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make it real.
Right?
Or maybe Wonwoo just feels bad for you.
Yeah. That makes more sense.
There’s no way he’d genuinely want to be with someone who apologizes to the floor after tripping over it.
If you’re wrong, then Chan aced his test, Seungkwan quit drinking, and Jeonghan stopped collecting rocks from unknown places.
Exactly.
Your class ended, and somehow your first instinct was to find Wonwoo.
You saw him waiting, leaning against his bike while scrolling through his phone.
When he noticed you approaching, he looked up and smiled, straightening himself.
Now that you think about it…
He’s kind of cute.
His smile, you mean.
“Did you finish your class?” he asked, his voice softer than you remembered.
Your stomach immediately did that stupid fish-flipping thing.
God. Just kill me.
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I only had one class today. What about you?”
“Just finished a while ago.” He tilted his head slightly. “Have you eaten yet?”
You paused before shaking your head. “Does a cup of coffee this morning count?”
He gave you a look then nodded once, like he expected that answer. Without another word, he reached for your hand and started leading you somewhere.
Gah damn.
You feel like an idiot right now. You obviously know where he’s taking you, but you ask anyway just to feed your tiny, fragile ego.
“Where are we off to, boyfriend?”
“To eat. Since you haven’t.”
You swear you can practically hear Chan’s stupid grin from across campus, hyping you up. He will never let you live this down.
You have to physically restrain the giggle threatening to escape.
Then suddenly, from a distance, you spot a familiar figure.
Cheol.
Of course.
You want absolutely nothing to do with him.
You quickly tug on Wonwoo’s sleeve. He turns to look at you, puzzled with the sudden tug. And before you can overthink it, you lean up and kiss him.
He freezes.
He pulls back slightly and stares at you.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, trying not to make it weird. “Um… I just missed you so much.”
It takes him a second to process that.
Before he can respond, you grab his hand tighter and drag him away.
...
People always say if you’re going to be in a relationship, you have to be prepared to take the bitter with the sweet.
You know that. Realistically speaking.
That’s how you always end up anyway. When you fall in love, you don’t really think about the consequences.
And apparently, in this situation, you have absolutely no idea how to handle this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing with Wonwoo. At some point, he’s going to find out the truth anyway.
So what’s actually bothering you?
The fact that you started this whole thing, randomly adopting him and declaring he’s your boyfriend just so someone else wouldn’t snatch him?
Or the fact that you weren’t serious about it in the first place?
Or… are you just scared he might actually end up liking you?
Wait.
Let’s not go that far.
Yes, he technically accepted the whole boyfriend-girlfriend label. He never denied it. He could’ve said no.
But he didn’t.
This is so confusing.
At the very least, he takes the “boyfriend” role seriously.
Unlike your previous situationship.
Love-bombed you. Then ghosted you.
Classic.
On the bright side, you’re not addicted to cocaine.
Just caffeine.
On another bright side, you’re seriously considering slapping Chan because why the hell are he and Seungkwan sitting at the same table as you and Wonwoo at the campus café?
“So,” Seungkwan started, sipping his americano while eyeing both of you, “how did you two become official?”
You quietly sipped your caramel macchiato, which Wonwoo paid for.
And when you tried to take out your card earlier, he just looked at you and paid anyway.
You had to physically hold back a fat grin, pretending you weren’t internally screaming that he paid for you.
The bar is in hell.
Wonwoo thought for a moment before answering calmly, “She gave me a pick-up line.”
They snickered and nudged each other, not even trying to hide how annoying they were being.
From the looks of it, they were definitely about to drag you.
Much to Wonwoo’s obliviousness.
“I know,” you said sweetly, smiling at them. “I can give you one too. I like to think I’m creative.”
They both made exaggerated “ooh” sounds, already giggling.
You rolled your eyes. “Chan, I really hope you’re from Europe.”
He blinked.
“Because europiece of shit.”
Wonwoo’s lips pressed together.
Chan’s smile dropped. “Oh come on. That’s not even creative. My grandma could come up with that.”
“Oh yeah? Can your grandma do a backflip? I bet she can’t.”
Sometimes you hate when people say you need to be the bigger person.
If anything, all of you can go to hell together.
“This is why you easily lost to that Jia girl,” Seungkwan sighed, shaking his head. “You’re easily overstimulated. I hope you know that.”
Coming from him was wild.
But at the mention of her, in front of Wonwoo made you stiffened.
Still, you tried not to make it obvious that she was the entire reason you’re in this situation.
“I wasn’t overstimulated,” you huffed, sipping your drink. “Grounding techniques don’t work for me, especially in public. ‘Name five things you can see’ but the only thing I see is a bunch of people pissing me off.”
You heard Wonwoo stifle a quiet chuckle beside you.
That was cute.
What.
Anyway.
“Okay, that was actually funny,” Chan admitted. “How do you even come up with that?”
Another suppressed laugh from Wonwoo.
“What can I say? I learned from the best,” you said proudly, puffing your chest. “Isn’t that right, boyfriend?”
You turned to him with a cutesy voice, not realizing your hands had been intertwined with his under the table the whole time.
At that, Seungkwan almost spat out his coffee.
You were offended.
“That part wasn’t supposed to be funny,” you deadpanned. “I hope you know that, Boo.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “No way. I just choked on coffee beans.”
“Really?” Chan peered into his americano. “Thought it was perfectly blended.”
“You know there’s this thing called sarcasm?”
And just like that, they started debating coffee brewing theory like two unemployed baristas.
You decided to ignore the boys.
Instead, you focused on your ‘boyfriend’ beside you.
He had ordered a strawberry frappuccino for himself.
How cute.
WHAT.
You seriously need to stop thinking he’s cute.
But now that you think about it…
You remembered how he used to give you those carton strawberry milk from the vending machine when you had class together last semester.
The first time you noticed one sitting beside him, you casually mentioned that you loved that brand.
He immediately offered it to you, saying he actually meant to grab chocolate milk but the machine gave him strawberry instead.
“Not really my thing,” he had said.
So he gave it to you.
And somehow… every single class after that, there was always a strawberry milk waiting on your desk.
The strawberry milk had always been waiting for you.
Wonwoo reminds you a little of your dad. The moment you tell him you like a specific snack, he’ll buy it over and over until you’re sick of it.
You didn’t realize how much you missed that stupid carton strawberry milk agenda until now.
Maybe that’s just how he shows he cares.
Quietly.
Or maybe… he’s been caring the whole time.
Not just when he patiently taught you complicated equations. Not just when he stayed back after class because you always took forever to pack your things. Not just when he waited for you and walked you to the cafeteria or your next class even when his was on the opposite side of campus. Not just when he saved you the seat beside him because the middle row was always full.
Maybe it was always there.
And you were too busy being dramatic to see it.
Ah.
That realization made your chest ache a little.
Because what even was that?
Here you were, hoping Cheol would give you roses and the moon on Valentine’s Day when you weren’t even a thing. Giggling over his simple “good morning” texts, only to receive nothing after a whole day class.
Not that you could blame him. Hoping for more was probably too much when there was never a label to begin with. You thought you were something.
Turns out, you were just… convenient.
Gut-wrenching, honestly.
He never promised anything. Never compromised anything.
Maybe it really was your fault for wanting more.
And you hated feeling like this.
Did you ask for too much?
Or were you just never clear about what you wanted?
You’re such an idiot sometimes.
Noticing your subtle downcast expression, Wonwoo brushed his thumb gently over your intertwined hands.
“You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked softly.
God.
That tone again.
You snapped out of your thoughts and shook your head, shoving the anxiety aside as you scooped lasagna into your mouth.
You should not be spiraling. He literally paid for this.
“Nope. I’m very hungry, alright,” you said mid-bite.
He smiled and dabbed at the corner of your lips with a tissue.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Is the semester that hard this time?”
“Not really,” you muttered while chewing. “Maybe the lab reports are just a hassle. What about you? Software engineering must be fun.”
“Mm. I guess,” he shrugged lightly. “If you like complexity, it’s exciting.”
You nodded slowly, then offered him a small spoonful of lasagna. He accepted it without hesitation.
“Yeah. No. I don’t think that’s fun,” you grimaced. Then, casually, “By the way… I thought you weren’t a fan of strawberries?”
You gestured toward his strawberry frappuccino.
“…Ah.” He blinked, glancing down at the drink like he’d just remembered something. “I just felt like drinking it today. It tastes nice.”
“May I?” you asked, already leaning in to take a sip from his straw.
Basically making an indirect kiss.
Again.
He simply nodded, letting you drink it like this was completely normal.
Meanwhile, across the table, Chan and Seungkwan witnessed the entire exchange.
They loudly slurped their half-finished drinks, making exaggerated straw noises.
Birds of fucking feather.
Arguing with them was pointless. They were doing it on purpose.
You swore that you have no anger issues. People just make you want to develop them.
And unfortunately, those people are your friends.
Sore losers.
“Yeeeah, you know what?” Seungkwan stood up first. “We’re going to leave you lovebirds now. I’m a busy man.”
“Mhm. I think I have class after this,” Chan added, about to stand.
You kicked his leg under the table.
“Ow! What was that for? Not even a thank you?”
“Sit and stay,” you said sternly, then looked at Seungkwan. “And I know for a fact media studies isn’t that busy. Liar.”
If anything, you’re the busy one here.
Busy overthinking. Busy pretending.
Busy trying not to realize that maybe… just maybe…
This isn’t fake anymore.
They say to be in love is to be seen.
It baffles you that it’s been almost five weeks since this… “boyfriend-girlfriend” thing with Wonwoo started.
You refused to call it a relationship properly, not technically, at least because this didn’t happen purely out of love or devotion.
It’s not like Wonwoo was wishy-washy with you during this time. In fact, he was far more committed than some people who never even show up for 5% of group participation.
Unlike someone who just left you breadcrumbing.
But Wonwoo has his own flaws. You couldn’t even call them flaws. Because…
Wonwoo is just Wonwoo.
He never texted unless you initiated first on random days. His messages were dry, yes, but that’s just the way he was.
Maybe it was because you got used to it when you first met him last semester as your calculus buddy.
If it were someone else, you would have rolled your eyes and muttered, “man, he’s dry as hellllll,” because you’d overthink every single nonchalant message.
You did call him that once.
And you decided never again.
The more you thought about the past every moment, every little habit you observed when you were friends, it felt like you were holding onto tiny pieces of him.
Damn.
You wished your memory worked that well for formulas too.
But instead of feeling haunted, it felt… pleasing. Everything about being with him was easy.
He may not be the first texter, but he always checked in, making sure you arrived home safely, asking if you’d eaten, offering to bring something before you even got to campus.
He never really asked you about your day; he preferred to hear it from you face-to-face.
And somehow, you’d realized… he was a really good listener.
You weren’t an oaf or a fiasco, obviously.
But damn…
He’s a damn good boyfriend.
You don’t exactly remember the last time a relationship felt this… easy. It’s not the rush of adrenaline or butterflies though those exist but something quieter, something steady.
One thing you’d realized: he’s always been the one you keep coming back to. The one you run to, the one you can rely on without thinking twice.
You both were caring friends before this. So it felt… natural, to show gestures and affection. Nothing changed between you two, except for a little hand-holding here, a few soft kisses there.
You know what they say: when you like someone, you naturally want to do nice things for them.
In your case, sometimes being nice isn’t tied to affection. You compliment Chan’s ridiculous haircuts, tease Seungkwan mercilessly, make Vernon laugh until he chokes on his coffee. And Wonwoo…
Even in the current “relationship,” you’d always been nice to him. As a friend, as a calculus buddy, even cracking fart jokes fifty times in a row. It all just… happened.
You admit it, you like being around him. Even when he’s quiet. Even when you ramble about everything, ask too many questions, or repeat the same mistakes in tutorials. Even when you cling to him during class because you’re flunking.
That’s probably why you keep coming back.
And maybe… the whole Jia mess made you take him even more personally. You don’t want anyone pawing at him. You definitely take that personally, and now that he’s yours, you feel… possessive.
Woah. Hold on.
Yeah. Definitely possessive. Never knew you had it in you.
You were waiting at the vending machine, tapping your foot impatiently as it swallowed your money.
“Woah there, you’re gonna get sued for destroying property,” a voice chuckled behind you, snatching the drink from the machine.
You blinked. Of course it was Mingyu, grinning at you like it was a normal Tuesday.
“Well… it ate my money and didn’t give me my drink,” you muttered.
He pressed a button and a new drink slid down. “Chill. I got you.”
A brief silence.
“It’s been a while. How’ve you—”
“Fuck you,” you cut him off, immediately regretting nothing.
He blinked, mouth agape. “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” you muttered, barely hiding your bite about your last… situationship.
He handed over the soda. “Here. Don’t drink it all in one go.”
Your eyes landed on two cartons beside it, chocolate milk and strawberry. And you thought of Wonwoo.
“Really? Didn’t know you were into strawberry,” you said, teasing.
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. This is for Wonwoo.”
Wait. Didn’t Wonwoo say he preferred chocolate over strawberry?
“Oh,” you said slowly.
Mingyu corrected himself with a shrug. “Sorry, it’s for my friend. I’m used to calling him that sometimes… not everyone knows him.”
So he thinks you don’t know him. Interesting. You had heard Wonwoo mention Mingyu before, but never that they were close. And apparently, Wonwoo hadn’t said anything about being in a relationship…
Wow. Relief mixed with panic. What if Mingyu accidentally snitched?
“I… know him,” you admitted. “We’re in the same class last semester.”
His face brightened. He clearly didn’t know his best friend was now in a relationship.
Whatever it is, you wondered how Wonwoo even ended up friends with Mingyu. Mingyu, the social butterfly, while Wonwoo prefers a small circle. He rarely talks about his social life… except with you, which you didn’t mind at all.
“Oh, cool,” Mingyu said, glancing at his watch. “Anyway, got to go, shortcake. See you when I see you.”
You waved as he slowly disappeared down the hallway.
In every possible way, you were going to need a lot of prayers and a little bit of luck to navigate this relationship.
Because quiet, steady, easy love is one thing. But keeping it under the radar? That’s a whole other game.
...
Chan once pointed out that you and Wonwoo were the epitome of “Love Is in the Air.” As if you’d ever believe that.
Or so you thought.
Because apparently, whenever he looked at both of you, it reminded him of his parents. And that’s how they ended up having him. Which explains why his parents still look suspiciously young.
You told him to shut up.
Still, the comment lingered longer than you wanted it to.
You’ve always been aware that you wear your heart on your sleeve. Blame your lovable parents for raising you in a home where affection wasn’t scarce. And yet somehow, you still managed to get sad over a guy who wasn’t even serious about you.
For someone who had a decent childhood, you sure had questionable romantic encounters.
And frankly… you’ve figured that Wonwoo might be more similar to you than you initially thought.
He’s a good kid.
In this situation, you are calm. Almost way too calm but at the same time, there’s this small anxiety clawing at you because you weren’t honest from the beginning.
No matter how much Chan tries to reason that you’ll eventually grow into it, you can’t shake the thought.
They say when a heart is forced into something it doesn’t want, it slowly dies.
But your heart doesn’t feel like it’s dying.
If anything, it feels… natural. Easy and alive.
Which confuses you more.
What your heart definitely doesn’t want right now, however, is folding another dumpling wrapper.
You and Chan were helping Seungkwan prepare dumplings for his volunteering project at the Carat Retirement Home. Apparently, homemade dumplings feel more “heartfelt.”
Your hands were sore. You just finished your hundredth dumpling. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” you muttered, mid-annoyance.
“Tell me about it,” Chan sighed, placing another neatly folded one onto the tray before immediately starting the next. He was disturbingly efficient.
Seungkwan was already packing another batch, while Vernon worked quietly beside him, focused like he was solving world hunger instead of sealing dumplings.
“Because you guys are my friends,” Seungkwan replied dramatically, patting the sealed box. “And friends stick together.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You said that last time when you made us carry fifty chairs.”
“And?”
“And I developed trust issues.”
Chan snorted at that and Vernon smiled faintly without looking up.
Seungkwan pointed his flour-covered finger at you. “Also, don’t think I didn’t notice.”
You froze when you heard his almost accusatory tone, “Notice what?”
“The glow.”
Chan gasped loudly. “SEE? I TOLD YOU.”
“There is no glow,” you deadpanned.
“There is,” Seungkwan insisted. “You and Wonwoo are disgusting lately.”
You nearly dropped your dumpling. “Excuse me?”
“Disgustingly in love,” Chan corrected, nodding seriously.
You scoffed. “We barely even kiss.”
Vernon finally spoke, calm as ever. “It’s not about that.”
The three of them looked at you like you were the last person to realize something obvious.
“It’s the way he looks at you,” Chan said softly this time. There’s not a hint of teasing behind it.
Your hands stilled.
You swallowed. “He doesn’t.”
“He does,” Seungkwan said. “Like you hung the moon or something.”
That made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t like.
Because if that’s true, if he really does look at you like that—
Then what are you doing?
You weren’t even honest at the start. You kissed him knowing your feelings were messy. You claimed him when you were still sorting yourself out.
And yet…
Your heart doesn’t feel forced. It doesn’t feel pressured.
It feels rather… safe.
And that might be the scariest part of all.
Chan nudged your shoulder. “You’re overthinking again.”
You sighed and picked up another wrapper. “Shut up and fold your dumplings.”
But deep down, you couldn’t stop wondering.
If he really sees you, when will you be brave enough to see him back?
You hated that your friends’ greatest research skills weren’t academic. It was being nosy bitches with investigative journalism degrees in your love life.
After an hour, the dumpling massacre finally ended. Everything was packed nicely, sealed properly, stacked like you were preparing for war. Somehow, random side quests always squeezed themselves into your schedule.
Still, it was better than entertaining some fuckable situationship that drained your soul and GPA at the same time.
“Come to think of it…” Seungkwan scratched his head, leaning over the stack of boxes. “I don’t think any of my committee members can help send these. Or lend their car.”
Chan exhaled sharply. “Seriously, dude? They didn’t help make dumplings and now they won’t even help deliver, what kind of NPC teammates are these?”
Vernon stared at the five—no, six boxes. “These are a lot. A seven-seater would do.”
Then all three of them slowly turned to you.
You avoided eye contact immediately.
Of course. You’re the only one with a car. The designated driver. The unpaid driver service.
“What?” you blinked. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Seungkwan’s smile curled dangerously. “You know I love you, right?”
“Ew. Fuck off.”
“I’ll pay your petrol.”
You scoffed. “Still no. I don’t drive in the rain. You know I don’t do that.”
Rain made your hands tense. Made your mind spiral. The nicest thing about rain is that it always stops. Eventually. You remember that from Winnie the Pooh. You still watch it sometimes.
Chan suddenly perked up, an evil genius smile forming. “I know. Ask your boyfriend.”
You frowned immediately, mildly defensive. “Look. He can’t. Don’t drag him into this.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just ask him to drive. It’s not a crime. We’ll hang out after. You won’t even have to send us home.”
“And what makes you think he would?” you challenged.
Seungkwan didn’t hesitate. “For you? He would.”
Silence.
“…It’s not going to happen,” you muttered while already scrolling through your contacts.
You glanced up. “…You think so?”
The three of them collectively nodded.
For fuck’s sake.
Sometimes it felt like these idiots were just exploiting your assets. But to be fair, they paid for petrol and took turns driving.
Still… asking Wonwoo felt heavier. Even though he never once made you feel like a burden.
“…I haven’t called him yet,” you said, watching them already start cleaning up like it was confirmed.
Chan shrugged while rearranging chairs. “He’ll say yes. He never denies you.”
Heat crept up your neck.
As much as you wanted to argue, he wasn’t wrong.
Wonwoo never says no. Not when you hesitate. Not when you ramble. Not even when you’re clearly spiraling.
Like he’d move heaven and earth for you.
And before you could properly process the weight of that thought, you called him.
You explained everything.
And he came in the end.
Obviously he did.
Now you’re watching the boys load the boxes into your car trunk. When you tried lifting one, Wonwoo gently took it from you.
“I’ll do it,” he said simply.
You stared at his back for a second too long.
You always complain your taste in men is trash. So why are you praising the bare minimum?
That’s what they say, right? Love comes wrapped in dough.
“Can you tie the knot?” Seungkwan gestured at Chan.
“No, I cannot.” He replied.
“So you can knot?”
“Not knot.”
“Knot knot?”
Vernon chimed in smoothly, “Who’s there?”
Seungkwan groaned, not in the time to be funny. “Hansol!”
“Hansol who?”
That’s how the three of them derailed into a full knot-knot-who’s-there argument while you just stood there.
You turned to Wonwoo.
“Sorry for calling you out of nowhere,” you said softly. “It was last minute. Seungkwan’s team bailed.”
He shook his head, hands sliding into his pockets. In the distance, your friends were still arguing about knots.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I didn’t have much to do on campus anyway. And your friends are… fun.”
You smiled at that. A real one.
“Do you want to join us after this?” you asked, hopeful.
Your friends are your pride. You might be unlucky in love, but you’re blessed with these chaotic idiots.
Wonwoo looked at you for a second, just at you.
Then he nodded. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
And something about how quickly he agreed made your chest tighten again.
Because Chan was right.
He never denies you.
And you don’t know if that makes you lucky or feeling terrified about it.
…
After completing your little side quest, your three friends kept insisting on going for a hangout afterward. Karaoke, as usual. It’s not like it’s the first time you guys have done this. More often than not, honestly.
Not to mention you had to snap at them every five seconds from the passenger seat while Wonwoo was driving. The car radio was blasting through Bluetooth, “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus, their choice, obviously.
Then you ended up at a photobooth, squeezing all five of you into the tiny space. You honestly couldn’t remember how many photobooth strips you had back in your room with your friends from high school, committees, and now them.
But this was the first time you had one with Wonwoo.
You smiled at the group photo of your friends with your boyfriend included, of course.
Then it occurred to you.
Shouldn’t you take one with him? Just the two of you?
You glanced at the three idiots, still crowding the mirror with cute headbands, arguing about whether they should be three bears or minions.
So you poked Wonwoo and sheepishly dragged him back into the booth. “Let’s take a picture. Just the two of us.”
For some reason, you felt a little too giddy. You weren’t sure if it was your pure excitement over adding to your photobooth collection, which you always loved or simply the fact that it was with him. Your first one as boyfriend and girlfriend.
He let you have your way, as usual. But this time, he actually contributed posing properly, leaning in, following your lead. You felt genuinely happy, without feeling anxious or overthinking.
When the third camera click sounded, you pressed your lips against his cheek, catching him off guard.
He froze for half a second.
Then he leaned in.
The fourth photo captured your face half-covered as he kissed you back, making you giggle.
When the session ended, Wonwoo looked at the preview screen.
“Should we retake the last one?” he asked.
You studied it for a moment. It looked natural. Genuine. So you shook your head and pressed the screen to print.
“No. It looks great already.”
When the machine finally dispensed the photo strips, you grabbed them excitedly.
“Aren’t we the cutest pair?” you showed him.
His lips curled softly. “We are.”
The rest was history.
The rain had stopped by then, and your stupidly annoying friends suggested going to the beach.
Not that you minded but Wonwoo was the one driving. In fact, he didn’t seem to mind at all.
What you were actually worried about was whether he ever felt overwhelmed around your circle. They could be chaotic. Not everyone could keep up.
It wasn’t his first time hanging out with them. Somehow, wherever you went, he was there too. Your friends were more than happy to third-wheel. It was like they had unofficially adopted him into the group.
Not that you minded.
Wonwoo once said they were lively to be around. That there was never a boring day with them, even if he mostly observed.
When you asked about his own friends, he didn’t say much. He did mention Mingyu though, pretty confidently. Maybe that was his way of showing how close they were.
The three boys walked ahead of you both, laughing and lightly kicking sand at each other while trash-talking. Probably Seungkwan and Chan.
You suddenly felt like something was missing. Your hand went to your bangs. Your cherry hair clip was gone.
Wonwoo noticed your expression immediately. “Something wrong?” His hand rested gently behind your back as you both slowed down.
“…My cherry clip. I think I lost it in the mall bathroom.”
To be specific, it was a gift from Seungcheol. Don’t ask. You wore it because it was there. Because you told yourself it should be useful for something.
He blinked slightly at your expression. It might seem silly to anyone else but clearly, it wasn’t nothing to you.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. It looked newly bought.
Inside were two strawberry hair clips.
They were ridiculously cute. Your eyes sparkled instantly.
“Here…” He opened the packaging and gently clipped your bangs aside. He smiled at how it revealed your forehead slightly.
He always liked when you wore hair clips while studying in the library.
“…Better?” he asked quietly.
You absentmindedly touched the clip and nodded.
“When did you buy this?” you chuckled softly. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hiding more things from me.”
You were joking.
Until he pulled out another velvet blue box.
You blinked.
“Oh. I did, actually,” he said with a low chuckle. “At first I planned to buy it because it reminded me of you. Then I figured… I just wanted to give you something nice.”
Inside was a golden heart-shaped locket.
Your face lit up as you held it in your palm.
“Let me,” he murmured, stepping closer.
He fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your bare nape. Warm hands resting briefly on your shoulders.
When you turned to face him, you instinctively held the pendant between your fingers.
“I love it,” you beamed. “Thank you. You didn’t have to—it’s too sweet.”
He shook his head. “I told you. I wanted to.”
Damn.
Your heart felt like it might burst. “Is there anything I can give you in return?”
He chuckled softly, your hands naturally intertwining. “Just you.”
You smiled shyly.
Maybe Chan was right. Maybe love really is in the air when you’re around each other.
“Did you know you can’t spell love?” you asked.
He tilted his head, genuinely intrigued like he always was with your random thoughts. “How does that work?”
“You don’t spell it,” you said, swinging your intertwined hands. “You feel it.”
His smile widened. “Was that supposed to make my heart flutter? Because it worked. How do you even come up with these things?”
You laughed. “I’m unoriginal. It’s from a conversation between Pooh and Piglet from Winnie the Pooh.”
You continued thoughtfully, brushing the locket. “You know, this reminds me of that quote… ‘If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart. I'll stay there forever.’”
You shrugged lightly. “I first saw it on my mom’s Facebook when I was ten. I loved that show. Spent a lot of time watching it with my cousin.”
“That’s sweet,” he said softly.
You shook your head. “But the meaning isn’t really my favorite. It’s often used for condolences or long-distance relationships. Like love surviving separation.”
He noticed the small pout on your face and gently lifted your chin.
“Does that make you sad?” he asked. “You don’t have to see it that way. It can be positive too. If you ever miss me, or if I’m not around, you can think of it as carrying a little piece of me with you.”
Your smile returned, softer this time.
That fish-flipping feeling stirred in your stomach again.
Slowly, the air shifted.
His hand wrapped a little closer around your waist. His head dipped slightly.
And before you fully processed it, he leaned down and kissed you.
You let him, your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back.
For the first time, you turned your brain off and let the moment happen.
A real kiss. Not the quick peck, or rush ones.
And you didn’t pull away.
You fell asleep during the car ride, your eyes slowly opening when you remembered that Wonwoo had probably dropped your friends off, leaving just the two of you.
Yawning softly, rubbing your eyes with your sleeves, your half-sleepy voice mumbled,
“...Sorry, I must’ve dozed off during the long ride.”
“It’s alright, it’s been a long day,” he reassured, his eyes still on the road. “You can rest a bit. I’ll wake you up.”
You remembered that his place was probably far from your apartment. From the looks of the surroundings, it might’ve taken a while to reach yours first.
“What about you then, if you drop me off at my place?”
“I’ll just take a cab later. I need to send your car there.”
You thought for a moment. “Can I just stay over at your place? It’s going to be a long ride if you go back from mine. Besides, your place is almost there.”
He turned to you as the light went red. “You sure?”
You nodded.
Technically speaking, he’d been driving the whole day. You felt bad if he had to travel again just because of you. That’s what you told yourself that it was to lessen his burden.
Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s heart pounded rapidly at the mention of it.
This would be the very first time you were coming over to his apartment. Come to think of it, he didn’t even realize how easily he had agreed.
He never denies you. He never has.
And when he saw you sleeping soundly later, looking so peaceful on his bed, he felt like it was all a dream.
You in his space. It almost drove him insane. He couldn’t believe this was happening but he knew it wouldn’t last forever.
Because he knew.
It wasn’t real in the first place.
You weren’t honest with him.
When your anxious eyes looked at him with that hint of uncertainty. Those trembling lips. The way you suddenly grew nervous talking to him after not seeing him for so long after that semester.
He already knew.
It all started with Jia throwing herself at him. He had his suspicions. He’d seen her at a few parties, the one or two times he went with Mingyu. Parties were never really his style.
He knew the kind of group she was associated with. Mingyu might’ve been acquainted with them, but he never truly mixed with that crowd. It wasn’t hard to guess her intentions.
It was almost hilarious at first when he noticed you weren’t even subtle about hinting something was going on, yet he let you.
Because it had been a while since he last talked to you. Because he has always liked you.
Since that semester, you were both taking the same class. He met you on the second day when you arrived late, wearing a cat hair clip beside your bangs. Wonwoo thought you were cute.
Then you sat beside him and started asking what topic the professor had covered.
His impression died quickly when you kept saying you didn’t understand half of it.
It was only week two. Then it became a routine.
The professor always had his eyes on you, and you’d sheepishly smile. You were probably the slowest in class but that didn’t mean you were stupid.
At first, he found it bothersome. You kept tapping his shoulder, asking how and why, like you knew it would annoy him. You barely knew each other, yet you kept coming back to him like a cat waiting for treats.
To be frank, you stuck to him the entire semester.
When he asked your major and you answered “chemical engineering,” he was speechless.
How were you majoring in that and still struggling in calculus.
He didn’t say much. He helped you willingly just for that semester while trying not to suck in his breath too loudly at how clingy and close you were whenever you sat beside him.
Have you always been like this with others?
He later learned you were just naturally affectionate.
When he saw you with your friends, he genuinely thought you were already taken. You never cared much about proximity. You were always comfortable, always open.
He may or may not have casually slipped in a question about your relationship status.
Just curious.
When you told him you were single, his heart leaped.
Since then, he couldn’t remember how it started, saving seats for you, waiting for you to pack your things before walking out together.
Listening to you ramble about half your life. Joining you for lunch because you hadn’t eaten since morning.
Heck, he even lied about preferring chocolate milk and gave you his strawberry one.
He loved strawberries.
And since then, he always brought an extra carton of strawberry milk to leave on your desk during class. Even at the library.
What kind of guy walks a girl to her next class when his own is on the other side of campus?
A guy with a massive crush.
Then one day, he saw you giggling at your phone.
He asked what was funny, thinking it was another meme you’d send him at 3 a.m. When you admitted you were talking to someone your face flushed, shyly talking about your crush.
His heart broke a little.
You liked someone.
He hoped, foolishly, that maybe it was him and it wasn’t.
You said his name.
Choi Seungcheol.
He knew that guy. A close friend of Mingyu’s. The type from frat parties he only attended once and never again.
That’s the guy you’re into?
You were the polar opposite of him. You were sweet, bright and charming. You deserved more than some random fuckboy who wasn’t serious about long-term relationships.
He noticed the way your eyes lingered on your phone more than once. The troubled look. The waiting. Always waiting.
You came to class looking more exhausted each day.
He hated seeing you like that.
He wanted the 9 a.m. version of you cracking jokes the moment you stepped into class.
But he couldn’t do anything.
Because he wasn’t the person you wanted and it hurt because it would never be him.
Study week came. Exams happened.
And just like that, the semester ended.
You were only meant to be friends in that specific chapter of life.
It ended as naturally as it began.
He was devastated when you stopped talking to him. No more laughter and random updates.
They said old habits die hard. He got used to your presence and he didn’t want to forget it.
Wonwoo had so much love to give you and you didn’t want it. He couldn’t have your heart because it was never his to begin with. He couldn’t give his to anyone else because it was only meant for you. It was so fucking heavy and he had nowhere to put it.
He genuinely loved you. The thought of never seeing you again killed him inside.
So when his long-time crush suddenly kissed him.
His heart stopped. He knew you didn’t mean it yet you did it anyway. He was confused. Why would you go this far? Force yourself like that?
He wanted to clear the misunderstanding.
But…
When else would he ever get the chance to be close to you again? So he took it. That fucking opportunity.
You claimed he was your boyfriend.
He let you kiss him first and when you asked things of him. He would literally drop everything for you.
He could see your hesitation and guilt. The way you tried not to cross certain boundaries.
He knew it wasn’t real but if you needed him, he would let you use him.
You might not like him the way he wanted but he tried his fucking best to make you love him.
You’ll eventually love him.
Right?
He loves you with all his heart. But he knows you haven’t fully healed. He knows he can never replace the place Seungcheol once had.
And even though it aches him. He foolishly hopes that every gesture, every word, every ounce of love he pours into you will someday reach your heart.
He wants you to accept all of him.
And it hurts.
He had hoped that one day, you would change your mind about him. That you would simply accept him and the heart he has always held out for you.
Because the moment you start to feel nothing, the moment you decide to end everything.
That would be the day his world crumbles.
You are his world. His entire fucking universe.
So he appreciates every single day he gets to spend with you. Every small moment. Every insignificant touch.
He is terrified that one morning he’ll wake up to you telling him you want to break up. That is his biggest nightmare.
So he takes whatever version of you he can get.
If you break up, he doesn’t just lose you as a girlfriend. He loses you entirely. And he knows you wouldn’t talk to him anymore. Who even talks to their ex?
The moment you no longer need him anymore, that would be the day something inside him dies. Why build something if you’re just going to walk away from it? It doesn’t make sense.
Your heart is too genuine to feel absolutely nothing. You must have felt something, even if it’s small and even if it’s barely there. He clings to that possibility. His heart has always been yours. With patience, open and still waiting.
And now, here he was. Sitting on his couch, head thrown back, breath uneven as his hand moved against his cock at the thought of you.
His glasses were somewhere on the floor. On the coffee table sat your recent photobooth strips and the polaroids from the beach of your smiles frozen in glossy paper.
It was all too consuming.
You were innocently sleeping in his bed and he was out here, fisting his cock at the thought of you.
He’s a bastard, he thinks.
You are so precious to him. So sacred that he can’t even bring himself to lie beside you, afraid that if he does, he won’t be able to stop himself from touching you the way he truly wants to.
It hurts him. So fucking much.
All the yearning. The pining. The wanting.
He knows it’s unhealthy. He knows the way he craves you borders on obsession.
But he wants you.
All of you.
Only for him.
His grip tightens around his dick as he thinks about your smile and your laughter. The way your cheeks flush when you’re embarrassed.
He’s a bastard for getting turned on by the smallest touches the way your fingers fit so perfectly between his. The way your lips linger just half a second too long. He’s a bastard for wanting to devour you whole when you kissed him. And he’s a bastard for loving you so deeply while desiring you in the most intoxicating way.
Sometimes he wonders if that makes him no different from Seungcheol.
But at least he’s genuine. At least he loves you.
And if he ever saw Seungcheol around campus again, he’d consider it a blessing because the moment he saw that guy, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch straight across his jaw.
Because he would.
For you.
A/N: had to separate into two parts, no worries apples. the heat is about to get started. lmk if you want to be tagged on the next part here.
SUMMARY: You didn’t mean for it to turn into a betting competition. And yet, here you are on a mission to save that nerd from your calculus class that you've known from last semester before he gets dicked down.
PAIRINGS: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
GENRE: fluff, drama, comedy, angst, university au, smut
add tags❦︎: biker!wonwoo, nerd!wonwoo, mingyu is his best friend, friends to lovers, fake dating(?), reader majored in chemical engineering, winnie the pooh reference, ex!seungcheol, disgustingly in love, lil crack, green flag is sexy wdym, bestie!doremiz, sun x moon dynamics, chan as childhood twin fr, she fell first but he fell harder type of shii aye.
❤︎ part 1, part 2 ❤︎
A/N: woah, that turns dark and depressing real quick. im not that evil, chill. (i was doing charity work and at the mountain, apples. srry for the late update lollol)
Have you ever looked at someone and decided yeah, I’m going to take care of their heart. That was Wonwoo’s first thought when he looked at your face.
He was doomed from the start.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most space in the room of our hearts. You added colour to his life. Every routine, every habit you occupied his mind so effortlessly. Every corner of his life carried a piece of you. Even when you didn’t talk to him for a while, he found himself thinking about you.
You’re probably laughing with Chan about something stupid again. Maybe you’re sleeping at this hour instead of finishing your assignment. Or maybe you’re rewatching Winnie the Pooh just to feel something because you once told him it gave you a fuzzy feeling.
Do you know how much he misses your presence?
The rain fell heavily, reflecting the way he felt inside. He already knew how much you hated driving on rainy days.
He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. The smoke lingered between his parted lips. He rarely smoked, but tonight felt overwhelming. His eyes drifted to his phone screen, the photobooth picture of you and him set as his lockscreen. He contemplated texting you. Just to ask if you’d eaten but deep down, he just wanted to see your face. Hear your voice.
“Hey.”
Mingyu nudged him with a grin. “You’ve been out here alone. Sorry it was loud—you know how it is inside.” He paused, then smirked. “You’ve been too busy lately. What, did you get yourself a girlfriend or something?”
Wonwoo chuckled.
It was meant to be a joke.
But when he answered with a simple, “Yeah,” without even looking at him, Mingyu’s smile faltered.
Mingyu blinked. “Who—when?? Why do I not know about this?”
Wonwoo couldn’t blame him. From Mingyu’s perspective, he barely interacted with girls. In fact, Mingyu had probably already prepared himself to support him if he wasn’t into women at all.
But then Wonwoo’s eyes drifted toward a familiar figure in the distance.
Mingyu’s voice faded.
Even if his eyesight failed him, he would recognize you anywhere. From the way your hair fell to the way you walked. He left Mingyu mid-sentence, grabbing his helmet as he moved toward you.
He followed slowly behind, riding his bike at your pace as you walked along the sidewalk. Dressed in all black, face hidden under his helmet, he probably looked intimidating.
You slowed down, clearly creeped out by the unknown rider beside you.
When you stopped, he stopped too.
He didn’t say anything. Letting you figure it out.
Your eyes brighten. “Wonwoo?”
He chuckled, removing his helmet with a grin. "You don’t even recognize your own boyfriend?”
You laughed, stepping closer as you always did, naturally occupying his space. “Where did you come from?”
He smiled softly. His gloved fingers brushed your bangs aside. “Just somewhere. Mingyu dragged me to some party to loosen up.”
Oh.
You had a feeling it was probably one of Mingyu’s friends, you weren’t close with them. The road looked familiar. It was probably Yugyeom’s party. And you swore you’d never go there again. That was where you met Seungcheol.
You never imagined Wonwoo being into that kind of scene. But he was friends with Mingyu.
The possibility that he knew Seungcheol wasn’t impossible. You wondered if they were somehow connected.
You just simply nodded.
Your nose tingled slightly. There was a faint scent of smoke mixed with his cologne.
He noticed it quickly. “Ah. Sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t usually smoke. I must reek of it. You shouldn’t stand so close.”
You shook your head immediately. “No… it’s fine. It doesn’t smell that strong.”
He didn’t like you seeing him like this. He always wanted to show you the better version of himself. Not someone smelling faintly of alcohol, cigarettes or maybe with a hint of sex there even though he was inside there for thirty minutes doing nothing.
He felt like he was tainting you. Like he was something impure standing too close to something sacred. He's an asshole, and sometimes he thinks he’s the one corrupting you.
“I figured you didn’t drive today?” he said, watching the way you stood so close to him and his bike, slipping into his personal space like you always did.
You smiled, fingers absentmindedly tracing the plastic bag from your little convenience haul. “It’s raining, and my place isn’t that far from the bus station.”
He smiled back. The small talk between you had always been like this so simple and easy.
“Do you want me to walk you home?”
“Is that okay? I thought you were at the party.”
Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m beat. I want to be with you.”
That made your heart flutter.
If you gave him a reason not to, he would argue back. Stand firm and insist. So you didn’t question it.
He followed you home.
The rain softened into a quiet drizzle as you reached your apartment building. It was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
He parked his bike, helmet resting against his hip while you waited for him.
This was probably where you’d say goodbye.
You never realized how hard it could feel not wanting to part from someone. Ever since you started seeing Wonwoo, doing everything together had become a habit. You were getting used to his presence.
Too used to it.
It scared you a little.
Maybe you did like him.
Even back then, in class you had told yourself you were just good friends. But maybe you had always thought of him fondly. There had always been a small piece of you that cared deeply for Wonwoo.
He noticed the reluctant look on your face, stepping closer. His gloved fingers gently traced your cheek. Every tiny expression you made he found adorable. Like you were holding something back.
He wished you wouldn’t.
“What’s on your mind, baby?” he asked softly.
God. That tone. Always.
Why did he have to say it like that? Like he was babying you. It’s no wonder Chan always teased that Wonwoo doted on you too much.
Flustered, you cleared your throat and gathered your courage. “Um… do you want to stay over?”
You instantly regretted it. You had a talent for embarrassing yourself. What if he took it the wrong way?
Or maybe you just wanted him close.
That day at the beach that kiss had meant something. Everything.
He blinked.
Then let out a low chuckle. He almost said yes. You had no idea how your innocence drove him insane. You shouldn’t trust him like this. Not alone, especially suggesting to stay in the same space. He barely survived when you stayed at his place.
He wouldn’t even trust himself.
Seeing your slight frown, he softened. “I’m sorry—it’s just…” he was still grinning faintly. “Are you really okay with that?”
“Of course,” you said as if it were obvious. “You’re my boyfriend. Aren’t you allowed to?”
Something twisted inside him. You trusted him too much which you shouldn’t. He’s no different from other men, the only difference is restraint. And yet… it stroked his ego.
You were letting him.
His fingers brushed your hair back slowly, eyes lingering on the strawberry clip he gave you. The locket necklace around your neck and the soft curve of your face.
He almost sighed.
You have no idea. You’re walking straight into a lion’s den.
First, it was Seungcheol. He didn’t mind you being friends with Mingyu, he was decent. But if Mingyu ever introduced one of his reckless friends to you, he wouldn’t forgive him.
Men are shit.
And he includes himself.
You felt his gaze lingering and it made you self-conscious, but also… somehow giddy.
He never looked at you like this before. There was something heavier in his stare. Never disrespectful but different. You were curious about what other parts of him never show to you.
He called your name softly.
You hummed.
“What do you like about me?”
You blinked. “…Well… you’re smart. And kind.”
He hummed. “Is that all?”
You shook your head. “There’s more.”
“Like what?”
You thought for a moment. “You’re handsome…”
He hummed again, stepping closer.
“…You always show up when I need you. You’re reliable. I can count on you.”
He took another step.
You stepped back.
“…You have broad shoulders,” you added nervously. “I think that’s attractive.”
His lips curved then another step. Now you were almost cornered.
“…You’re a good listener. You’re attentive to me. You’re nice to me. You’re just… my type. I like your style.”
“Mhm,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Is that so?”
Your back met the wall.
He stood in front of you, taller, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. Cornering you without actually touching you.
Wonwoo felt like a terrible person.
The way you avoided his gaze staring anywhere but at him as if the pavement suddenly fascinated you more than his face.
This was exactly why he never showed this side of himself.
He didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you to see how intense his love for you truly was how it consumed him, how it kept him awake at night.
Yet you didn’t pull away, or run away. And that made it worse.
You could feel his breath against your forehead. The faint mix of cigarette and cologne lingered between you.
Of course you trusted him.
It’s Wonwoo.
He never lets you down. The dependable Wonwoo you’ve slowly fallen for.
His head dipped slightly lower.
You should’ve been nervous. Maybe you were. But something about him made you greedy.
For more.
“…Tell me you don’t like this,” he murmured softly, almost strained. “…Push me away. Please.”
You finally looked up at him.
“…What if I don’t want to?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to. Stay with me like this.”
Something inside him snapped.
He almost punched the wall beside your head just to ground himself. The way your lips trembled and looking at him like that. You make it impossible for him to say no.
Stubborn little thing.
He didn’t hesitate as he captured your mouth. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up desire and longing he had been holding back, different from the beach. His lips moved roughly against yours, his tongue delving deep to taste you.
It was desperate.
His hand slid to the back of your head, holding you there as his lips pressed against you while the other slid down to grip your hip tightly pulling you flush against his. You melted into him, fingers gripping lightly at his jacket.
A small sound escaped you, barely there.
But he felt it.
And it nearly undid him.
Wonwoo’s hips rocked forward, pinning you harder against the wall with his straining arousal. He had wanted this, wanted you to feel it, to know exactly what you did to him. How much he wanted you. His hands roamed greedily over your body, mapping out the contours he had been longing to explore.
For so long.
And now that he finally had you like this, he didn’t want to stop.
…
You barely made it past the entrance.
The door wasn’t even fully closed when he pressed you back against the wall, his mouth tearing away from yours only to trail downward hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat.
You felt overwhelmed, breath turning uneven as he pinned you there, your fingers clutching at his jacket. “…Wonwoo… please stay with me tonight.”
He stilled for a second. Then he let out a low, strained sound against your skin, lifting his head just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now. You had no idea what you were doing to him. You looked up at him with that needy expression, and it only made it worse.
He thinks you mean something soft like a sweet innocent sleepover. But his mind was anything but innocent.
“Baby…” his voice dropped, rougher now. “There’s nothing sweet about letting me stay here.” His thumb brushed under your chin, tilting your face up. “I hope you understand what you’re offering, darling.”
His lips grazed your skin again slower this time, his teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat. Sucking it hard, leaving a mark that would be visible for days, a badge of his claim. His mouth found your pulse point, and he bit down hard enough to make you gasp.
“...Tell me to stop, baby. Use your words and I’ll stop right here.” his voice is rough and heavy with lust. He wanted you to push him away before something inside him snapped.
He wanted to hear you say it, wanted to make sure you understood exactly what you were getting into. Because there was no going back now, no turning away from this, not when he was rocking hard between you and burning so hot now.
You shook your head, brows drawn together as you looked at him with those eyes. The ones that always undid him. “…No,” you whispered. “I want you, Wonwoo.”
Your fist tightened in his jacket, pulling him closer as if you were afraid he might disappear the second he stepped away. Like the room would turn cold without him.
You missed him more than you realized.
And you did actually love him.
Wonwoo’s heart clenched in his chest as he heard your breathless declaration, the way you clung to him with desperation that matched his own. He could see it in your eyes—the longing, the desire and the love that had been growing for so long. It made something inside him snap completely.
With a low guttural groan, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. His mouth never left your skin, lips, teeth and tongue worshipping every inch of you as he moved. He wanted to taste you, to devour you, to make you his in every way possible.
He laid you down on the bed, his body covering yours as his hips nestling between your thighs. He could feel the heat of you, the way your body softened and yielded beneath his own. It made him ache with need that bordered on pain.
He softly called your name, his hand guided yours as he placed your palm against his hardened dick. Grunted slightly at the feeling of your palm there, giving a slow grind. “Feel that, baby? I’m so fucking rock hard for you, look at what you did.”
Hand slid under your sweater, pushing the fabric up and over your head. He wanted to see you, to drink in the sight of your naked skin so that he could map out every curve and hollow. He wanted to remember this moment, to keep it permanent in his mind forever. Wonwoo’s lips trailed down to your neck, over your collarbone between the soft swells of your breasts. He wanted to taste every part of you to make you feel pleasure so intense that you forgot your own name.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” he urged, breathing hot against your skin. “Tell me how you want me to take you, how you want to be claimed. I’ll give you anything, do anything to make you feel good.”
You breathe out a small plea, your body grew hot at his every touch, “...please, Won. I need you.”
You’re about to reach down, but he already caught your wrist, stopping your hand just inches from your aching core. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the way your chest heaved with ragged breath. The desire was palpable hanging heavy in the air between you two.
“No,” his voice was low and rough. “Not yet, baby. Let me take care of you first.” He wanted to be the one to touch you and bring you pleasure. His hand slid down your body, his fingers trailing teasingly over your skin. He circled your breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm, moving your bra aside as your tits fit perfectly in his hands. He could feel your nipple hardening against his touch, begging for more.
You swear you almost whimper at the small act, you shouldn’t. Might as well your panties are soaking wet, maybe you had always been when you’re around him. Much to your embarrassment.
His hand slid lower, over your stomach and the sensitive skin of your hips. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, feel the heat of the core radiating outwards. He could smell your arousal and the musky scent of your desire filling the air. When his fingers brushed against your clothed sex and groaned at the dampness he found there. It made you shift a little.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet already.” he said, voice rough with lust. It made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Is this all for me, ____?” Are you this desperate for my touch?”
Before you could answer him, Wonwoo was already rubbing his fingers against your clothed slit. The heat of your body grows which you ache for more. When he heard your stifle moans, he wanted to give you everything, wanted to fill you up until you were dripping. As much as he wants to pound you like crazy, he needs to make sure to follow your pace. It pains him sometimes, but that’s what he’s willing to do for you.
“Tell me what you need baby…” he urged, fingers pressing harder against your sex. “Tell me how you want me to make you feel good.”
You only managed to let out a pathetic whine, grinding against his thick fingers against your clothed sex. “...please, just touch me—however you want.”
Wonwoo’s heart raced as he heard our needy plea, feeling your hips rocking urgently against his hand. The desperation in your voice, the way you’re trembling and aching for his touch was almost making him come in his pants. “Shh, I’ve got you baby.” he soothed, almost tender. “I’m going to touch you, taste you and make you feel so fucking good.” With that he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and dragged them down to your legs tossing it somewhere carelessly. He took a moment to admire the sight of you, splayed out beneath him with your bare sex glistening and ready.
Just for him.
“Look at you, so fucking beautiful.” he murmured as he leaned against your pussy. ‘So perfect and all mine.” Unable to resist any longer, he ran his tongue along your slit—groaning at the taste of your arousal. You were sweet and heady, as if your flavour exploding on his tongue like a drug he was already addicted to.
Except that he doesn’t take drugs.
Wonwoo focused his attention on your clit, suckling the sensitive bundle of nerves with hunger that bordered on feral. You moaned out again, fingers dangling in his hair. Desperate sounds spilling from your lips. It’s like you’re almost at the verge of tears as he keeps eating you out. “F-fuck! Wonwoo—I’m–” you hiccuped in the middle of it, he could feel you clenching around his tongue and hear the way your breath hitched.
It spurred him on, making him want to push you harder to make you come undone completely. “Fuck, you taste good,” he growled against your sex, breath hot and heavy against your skin. “I could eat this sweet little cunt for hours, baby.”
That made you even more turned on at the way he keeps talking dirty to you. He never spoke so filthy—vulgur, always remained respectful and gentle, but seeing this side of him made something inside you wanted to unleash him. You could feel your body tensing, thighs quivering around his head as he licked and suckled your clit.
Wonwoo could sense you were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of intense orgasm. So, he doubled his efforts, flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit as he plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt. “Come on, baby,” he encouraged you, fingers pumping in and out of you curling to hit that sensitive spot deep inside. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come all over my fingers, want to taste your cum on my tongue.”
Your walls flutter, gripping his fingers like a vice as your climax approaches. Wonwoo sucked your clit hard as he thrust his fingers deeper, harder, fucking you with his hand “Do it, baby. Give yourself to me.” he urged, voice rough and commanding. After a while, you were crying pathetically, your back arching off as your climax finally overtook you. A high keening cry tore from your throat, the sound of your pleasure that made his heart race.
His fingers curled inside you, rubbing against the sensitive spot that made you see stars. When he felt your own release finally there, your juices gushing out coating his hand and dripping down the sheet beneath you. The taste of your climax burst onto his tongue, and he groaned in satisfaction. “Fuck yes!” he growled, feeling your cunt clamp down hard around his plunging fingers. Just when you’re about to calm down, thinking it’s already ended, you feel him working through your orgasm with single-minded focus, fingers pumping in and out of your clenching sex. You were writhing under him yet he kept his tongue laving over your spasming clit. Like he wanted to make this moment one you would never forget.
Wonwoo adores you so much like how he adores your pussy.
As your cries and trembles began to subside, Wonwoo slowed his movements as he gentled his touch. He placed soft kisses on your sensitive flesh, his fingers stroking tenderly over your mound as he eased you down from your high. “You did so good, sweetheart.” he praised you softly, looking at you with satisfied eyes. “So fucking beautiful when you come t me like that.” He pressed soft kisses along your trembling stomach, over the soft swells of your breasts. When he reached your face, his heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to him from the aftershocks of your intense climax. “Shh, I’ve got you baby,” he soothed you, brushing your hair back gently, tucking the strands behind your ear as he peppered kisses across your forehead, down your cheek to the corner of your mouth.
Your chest heaving against his own breath coming in soft shuddering gasps as you tried to catch your breath. It was embarrassing to have him seeing you crying like a baby when he eats your pussy, but it was so good that it almost made you see the stars. Sex can be scary to you, as much as chatterbox you are but when it comes to real intimate feelings, you chickened out so quickly. But with Wonwoo, you feel like everything is guaranteed.
Your Wonwoo.
Wonwoo stayed still, holding you close as he let you bask in the afterglow of your pleasure. As he watched you, he could feel his own arousal pressing urgently against your thigh. It was hard and insistent. He could still taste of your climax on his tongue, the sound of your cries still ringing in his ears. It had only stoked the fire burning in his veins, the need to be inside you. But he held back, not wanting to overwhelm you, to push too hard too fast. He wanted to make sure you were ready, wanted to be certain that you still wanted this as much as he did.
He was hurting. Mentally, physically and carnally.
You could feel the way he was still hesitant. His hand slid down your side, over the curve of your hip, to rest on your thigh. He squeezed the soft flesh making you whimper, fingers sinking into your skin as he leaned close, his lips brushing against your ear. “...I want you but—I can’t help it to feel like a bitch in heat when I’m with you,” he panted, voice rough with barely restrained desire. “Please, baby. Tell me you want to be mine, completely.”
Wonwoo wanted you to let him fuck you.
But as much as he wanted that, he knew he couldn’t push you. He was ready for rejection. He figured out that, he had been too much that he had shown the full intensity of his devotion a little too openly.
You noticed the way he seemed desperate for your approval. It wasn’t hard to see. The whole time he had been taking care of you, he’d been patient and kind. He had always been holding something back. Even though it wasn’t what you expected, you found yourself hoping he wouldn’t.
Maybe it was your fault for never questioning him, as if you were afraid that if you did, he might pull away. Or worse, that he might scare you away.
If anything, you were the one allowing this.
And you trusted him.
Cupping his face, you leaned in, kissing him softly. “Won…I want you.” you softly plead, eyes gazing at him sincerely. “I want you just as much as you want me. Don’t hold back.”
Wonwoo groaned deeply as he heard your plea, feeling his cock throb almost painfully as the desperation in your hoarse voice. He couldn’t hold back any longer, couldn’t deny you or himself the pleasure of being one. Almost urgently, he sat back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head and toss it carelessly to the floor. You almost drooled at the way his muscles rippled as he moved, the definition of his chest and abs full on full display. It’s not like you’d never seen his muscles, sometimes when you jokingly asked for bicep pictures, he willingly gave it when he was at the gym with Mingyu.
You keep your eyes watching him discarded his jeans, shaving it down over his hips along with his boxers until he could spring free, his thick cock jutting out hard and proud. He felt a surge of male pride when he noticed the way your eyes stared a little longer on his cock the whole time. He chuckled lowly, grinning, settled back over you with his naked body covering yours. “If you keep staring at me like that, babygirl. I think I might just came right here and now.” his hips nestling between your thighs, feeling the heat of your sex, still slippery and swollen from your climax. You instinctively let out a small whine, impatient coming through as you want nothing than him to fuck you now.
“Fuck…” he grunted, voice strained with desire as he rocked his hips against yours. “Feel what you do to me, baby? How hard I am for you?” He reached down, taking his cock in hand and rubbing the swollen head through your slick folds. Groaning at the feeling of your wetness, the way your body welcomed him and drew him in.
You whined softly, nudging yourself closer on purpose with a hint of impatience. “....hurry up, Won. I can’t take it anymore.”
Wonwoo chuckled, way too attractive in your ears or maybe you’re just horny at this moment. “Slow down, I’m all yours tonight.” he lined himself up in your entrance, the tip of his cock kissing your opening. “Last chance to back out, baby,” he said hoarsely, even his hips twitched with the urge to surge forward, buried deep inside you. “Beg me to fuck you, babygirl.”
You frowned, almost whined the way he kept teasing lightly. You just don’t care anymore, and wrap your legs around him. “Please, Wonwoo. Fuck me, I need you inside me.” You didn’t meant to come out needy, but your cunt was already aching with so much need.
Wonwoo’s heart raced at your desperate plea, without hesitation he gripped your hips and began to push forward. The thick head of his cock stretching your tight entrance. He had to grit his teeth at the incredible feeling of your slick heat enveloping him, inch by slow inch. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, “Breathe for me, ____. You can take it, you’re so fucking tight and perfect.”
You had to hold your breath, gasping at the way he’s stretching you well. Messy whimpers slipping as you meekly speak. “W-wonwoo…” His cock was too much for you, God, you almost feel like you’re about to die. He kept pushing, slowly sheathing himself inside you until he was buried to the hilt. Wonwoo paused there, giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of his cock splitting you open. He let you try to accommodate his size, your walls fluttering around him.
“Fuck, you feel amazing.” he groaned, hips rocking slowly, grinding his pelvis against yours. “So fucking good, baby.” he started to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remained inside before slamming in, burying himself to the balls once more. You were a moaning mess, fist gripping vice on the sheet as your back arched from the sensation. He set a steady rhythm, hips surging forward and pulling back. Fucking into you with deep powerful strokes making you scream. “Take it, angel," he growled, hands sliding underneath your ass to tilt your hips up, angling you to take his thrusts even deeper. “Take my cock like the good little girl you are. Fuck! You were made for this, made to be filled up by me.”
“Yes! Fuck—keep going, I’m—ahn!” you cried out, feeling your nails digging into his back which would leave marks there as he continued pounding into you. Your pussy was so tight, gripping his cock like a silken vice with every deep, powerful thrust. You couldn’t think straight at the moment, too consumed with your need for him—all of him. It was too intoxicating and overwhelming for you.
His hips slamming forward with increasing force. You feel him hooking your leg over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to drive even deeper into your core. Wonwoo could feel your walls clenching around him, could tell you were getting close to another explosive orgasm. “That’s it, baby. Come on my cock.” he urged, his voice strained with pleasure. His hand slid in between your bodies, finding your clit swollen and throbbing. Rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles, determined to make you fall apart in his arms.
“F-fuck—Won, I’m—” you choked out finally, your release came. With a hoarse shout, Wonwoo followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing and twitching as he spilled hot and deep inside you. His orgasm seemed to go on forever, hips jerking and shuddering as spurt after spurt of his thick cum pumped into your spasming cunt. You naturally let out a satisfied whine, feeling him filling you up.
He collapsed onto the bed beside you, gathering your trembling form into his strong arms. He could feel his seed, hot and thick beginning to seep out around his still-hard cock, which was buried deep inside your fluttering walls. For a moment, the air grew peaceful and calm. It felt like the two of you were the only ones that mattered in the dark room.
He peppered your face with soft kisses, fingers brushing your hair back tenderly as he gazed down at you with pure adoration and something deeper. Satisfaction and relief.
“You’re amazing, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you.” His forehead pressed against yours, eyes closing. He wanted to savor this moment, the way all his pent-up longing had finally settled, the years of yearning quieting in his chest.
He loved you so much it hurt.
“…I love you. So much, ____,” he whispered absentmindedly against you.
Your heart pounded at those three words.
It swelled with emotion at his soft confession. Wonwoo was never vocal about how he felt, but his actions had always screamed that he cared. That he loved you.
It had always been you who said it first. Casually and naturally. The same way you said it to your friends out of habit.
You know I love you, right?
Take care, love you!
Oh my God, I love you for this, Wonwoo!
Bye-bye, love you lots.
Made with love from your charismatic girlfriend <3
Wonwoo, you love me, right?
Come to think of it, you had always thrown those words at him so easily.
You wonder now how he took them. Maybe he had always held his own back, waiting to make sure you were certain of your feelings.
God, you wanted to cry at how overwhelmed you felt.
So you said it back.
Genuinely.
“…I love you too, Won.”
And with that, you sealed it with a kiss, tender and full of everything you had never properly said before.
To Wonwoo, yearning had always sounded delicate. But living through it was anything, whatever he’s going through is much more disgusting.
When you stopped talking to him after that semester ended, the same semester where everything had started and quietly ended. He tried to accept that maybe you were only meant to exist in that specific chapter of his life.
Just a crush.
An unrequited love that would never be returned.
He told himself he would’ve been fine staying friends, even if it meant loving you quietly just to keep you close. But now that he thought about it, he had no reason to talk to you anymore.
You had only grown close because of that class.
That was the excuse.
Even when you shared it, everything between you had felt natural. After lectures ended, you would ask if he wanted to grab lunch because you skipped breakfast and he always agreed. Then it turned into shared study sessions. The same brunch spots. The same seats at the library. Everything at once felt like a routine.
Intimate.
Just never officially “hanging out.”
Except when you procrastinated, poking him at the library while he tried to work. He still remembered the paper ring. You had made it out of boredom while he was drowning in programming assignments. He had been stressed and you had a talent for appearing at the worst possible timing.
“Hey, look. I made a paper ring,” you said sheepishly, despite the fact that you had been doing absolutely nothing beside him.
He turned to you, brows already furrowed from his assignments and now from you. Not because he was annoyed. You just had that light about you, the kind that made it impossible to stay irritated.
You smiled and slipped the paper ring onto his finger.
It looked ridiculous.
He raised a brow in amusement. He should’ve told you to focus on your own deadlines, should’ve scolded you by now.
But he didn’t.
Because then you leaned your head on the table, cheek pressed against the surface as you stared up at him. “You know, I prefer shiny things,” you mumbled. “But would you marry me with paper rings?”
His fingers froze above the keyboard, eyes stayed glued to the screen. He didn’t even dare look at you.
How could you say something like that so casually?
He almost said yes.
But you had confessed before that you liked someone else.
So he stayed silent.
He wanted to know if you were joking. But knowing you, even if he said yes, you would’ve just laughed. Smiled it off, because you were always open with affection.
He wasn’t.
He didn’t say things like that lightly. He wasn’t like you. He wasn’t like Seungkwan or Chan. Not when he had real feelings for you. So he buried it deep inside his heart.
Exams passed. The semester ended.
And when he saw you again during break, he expected you to approach him first. To talk again like usual, but you didn’t. And it broke him more than he expected.
You seemed fine without him. Laughing with your friends like always. Like he had never mattered.
Wonwoo wanted to get close to you again. He just didn’t know how. The only reason you had ever been close was that shared class. And now it was gone.
Why couldn’t it be simple?
Like the way you were with your friends. He couldn’t force himself to be that easy.
Maybe you found him boring. Maybe he had only been convenient. So in the end, he gave up.
…
He wasn’t expecting to see you again.
Not like this.
He had only stopped by the convenience store to buy beer and cigarettes, a bad habit that had slowly returned after that semester. You never liked the lingering scent of smoke. You mentioned it once, wrinkling your nose, and he quit immediately. You never even knew he was a smoker. You didn’t have to.
But after you both drifted apart, the habit crept back in.
He stepped out of the store in all black, helmet still on, mentally cursing Mingyu for asking him at the last minute to grab drinks. And that’s when he noticed someone crouched by the sidewalk.
Crying.
Soft, stifled sobs in the quiet of the night.
And of course it had to be Valentine’s Day. Not that he had anyone to spend it with. The only reason he stopped seeing anyone at all was because you kept occupying his mind long after your one-sided romance had supposedly ended.
He took a proper look, and realized it was you.
You.
Why were you crying like that? Like a child abandoned outside a daycare.
His chest tightened at the sight.
He didn’t want to approach you too suddenly, and didn't want to scare you. You had only just spoken to him again recently when you handed out yellow tulips and homemade cookies to your friends.
And to him.
You said it was Valentine’s Day. That you wanted to share something sweet with the people you cared about. Single yellow tulips. Symbolic of friendship. It had felt like a punch to the gut. Not a direct rejection. But close enough.
Still, he appreciated that you remembered him at all.
So why were you here now?
You looked happy on campus, and here you were, sobbing past midnight in front of a convenience store.
Without thinking much further, he held out his handkerchief.
You looked up, hiccuping, and took it with a small, broken “thank you.” “…Hey, mister,” you sniffed, dabbing at your tears. “Can you give me some life advice? I just need… something nice to hear.”
Oh.
Of course you didn’t recognize him.
He was dressed head to toe in black, helmet shadowing half his face. So he sat down beside you leaving a respectful gap between you. And for the first time in months, he was close to you again.
You sobbed again, burying your face into the soft fabric as you spoke between hiccups.
“…I’m sorry. I was just having a bad day and—” you inhaled shakily. “I was so excited to see my favorite person b-but… I don’t know where it went wrong. I just… I just don’t know. If they don’t like me anymore, they could’ve just said it instead of just…”
Your voice broke.
The image of Seungcheol kissing another girl replayed in your head, and your heart felt like it was being ripped apart all over again.
Wonwoo stiffened.
He had never been good at comforting people. Especially not like this.
God, he felt useless.
But something inside him clenched at the sight of you crying. Whatever happened, he assumed your “dream guy” didn’t feel the same way.
Damn bastard.
Did he even realize how lucky he was to have someone like you?
Wonwoo had never felt so envious, but right now, he focused on you.
“…I once loved someone,” he finally said quietly. “Maybe I still do.”
You sniffled, calming down just enough to listen.
“She was… the brightest person I’ve ever met. She changed the way I see the world. Without her, I wouldn’t have noticed how colorful life could be.”
You listened intently.
“She meant everything to me. She treated me with so much love, even if it wasn’t always romantic. Everything about her was… lovely. She was like sunshine. Warm. Loving. Every day I spent with her was—”
He swallowed the rest.
As if he wasn’t describing the love of his life sitting right beside him.
You just didn’t know it was him.
“Then…” you hiccupped softly. “What happened? What went wrong?”
He went quiet. You couldn’t see his expression under the helmet.
“We just kind of… drifted apart, I guess,” he said with a small shrug.
You turned to him, your crying finally subsiding.
“But mister, you said you love her. Did you ever tell her how you felt?”
He blinked, caught off guard by how quickly you shifted into curiosity.
“…No. Not really. I didn’t see the point in saying it.”
“Then that’s not technically a rejection.”
“I was trying to avoid one,” he replied. “Even if I confessed, it would’ve been awkward to stay friends.”
“Even so,” you said firmly, “at least you wouldn’t regret it.”
Easier said than done.
That’s what he wanted to say.
But he didn’t argue.
You continued, even though you were the one who had been crying moments ago. “Mister, are you familiar with Winnie the Pooh?”
He stayed silent.
“There’s this quote that says, ‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.’” You gestured dramatically despite your puffy eyes. “So you should feel grateful you met her. That you got to feel that kind of love. So what’s stopping you?”
He found himself liking this about you, how you still glowed even after heartbreak. Though sometimes, it worried him how fast you forced yourself to be okay.
“That’s… true,” he admitted. “But I’m not the kind of person who expresses love loudly.”
“Then did you ever do anything about it?”
Silence.
“So do it,” you encouraged. “You might regret never trying to make her notice your feelings. Even if your affirmations suck, just do something nice. Actions speak louder than words. Not blatant flirting or cheesy lines but the way you care for her. Mirror the way she cares about you.”
His lips curled slightly beneath the helmet.
“You should regret not doing anything,” you added. “At least make it something. Don’t just sit there quietly and mourn your one-sided love.”
That felt like a direct hit.
Because what the hell had he been doing all this time?
Ever since that night, your words stayed with him.
That’s why, when you suddenly kissed him one day and claimed him as your boyfriend, he said yes. Even if it wasn’t how he imagined it would begin.
Because he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t finally act.
And he was ready to love you properly this time.
They say that if you grow up in a loving family, you’ll learn how to love easily.
Growing up, you were surrounded by decent male figures in your life. Your dad, loving in his own quiet way. Not really loud with words, but his actions always spoke for him. Your older brother was annoying, but in an adoring way. You even grew familiar with his friend, one of whom you had a tiny childhood crush on.
Then there was your cousin Jihoon, rough around the edges, but secretly a softie. And his best friend Soonyoung, whom you had known for years who was very loud and funny. He still is though.
Because of them, you never struggled to understand the difference between male friendship and something more. That’s probably why you’re openly affectionate with boundaries, of course.
Ever since then, you and Wonwoo had grown… closer.
More intimate. More open.
Kisses whenever you feel like it. Mischievous stolen pecks in quiet corners. You didn’t realize how clingy you had become until recently, not that he ever complained.
“I love you” became routine. No longer foreign. And of course, when you were both in the mood, you would occasionally take things further.
You loved Wonwoo. And he loved you.
Love was like candy. Sweet at first taste, melting on your tongue. But when the sweetness faded, you found yourself craving it again. Sometimes the flavor lingered like longing. Like wanting to taste it over and over.
But what felt even sweeter was spending Halloween with your friends.
Another excuse for trick-or-treating, just like you and Chan used to do, fooling around when you were kids. Teenagers.
Maybe even now.
You opened the door to reveal three bears—Well. Three people. They stood outside with snacks in their hands before walking into your apartment like they owned the place.
“At this point, this might as well be my second home,” Vernon said, placing bags of chips on the table where you had already arranged potluck dishes and cute decorations. “I’m here more than at my own house.”
Seungkwan eyed you from head to toe, half judging, half confused. “What are you even supposed to be?”
You glanced down at your dark blue pinafore dress and touched the red ribbon clipped behind your hair. “I’m Kiki,” you said simply. “You know. From that Ghibli movie.”
“What’s that?” Chan asked.
“You idiot,” Vernon said flatly. “The girl who starts a delivery service with a broom.”
Seungkwan blinked. “I thought we agreed on Goldilocks and the Three Bears.”
You paused. “I never said that.”
“You did.”
Chan interrupted, “Excuse me, we agreed to be We Bare Bears. You insisted on being regular bears. Vernon was excited to be Ice Bear.”
He gestured vaguely at Vernon, who was calmly eating cake in the background.
“Nice costume, Dorothy,” Vernon added.
“I’m Kiki,” you corrected.
“Remind me why we’re doing this again. Aren’t we past this age?” Chan sighed as he lifted the lid off the stew you had cooked. “Shouldn’t we be at the Halloween party where all the cool people are?”
Seungkwan bristled immediately. “You mean where they all get drunk and dress like—I don’t know. People say Halloween is when you can live out your typical sex fantasy.”
You grimaced.
Sure, dressing up was fun. But skimpy outfits were never really your thing. Even if you found them cute, you didn’t want your brother freaking out, thinking you’d been influenced by some frat party nonsense.
“Somebody has to keep traditions alive,” Seungkwan continued dramatically. “Annual celebration equals preventing the bond from drifting apart. And let’s be honest, that person is me.”
Chan scoffed. The two of them slipped into their usual bickering while Vernon watched quietly, munching on his food in peace.
Honestly, you didn’t care.
It was nice spending time with your friends. When you couldn’t go back to your hometown for holidays like Thanksgiving, New Year’s, Christmas. They were always there with early plans.
Your second family. Maybe even your only one nearby.
The doorbell rang.
You immediately knew who it was and rushed over.
“Hi,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I brought what you asked for. Doughnuts. They had Halloween-themed ones. I hope you don’t mind.”
You chuckled and let him in before guiding him back to the living room.
All three pairs of eyes landed on him.
Seungkwan was the first to comment. “I don’t think he got the memo about the dress code.”
Chan examined him from head to toe. “Are you supposed to be one of those biker guys from BookTok or whatever they’re obsessed with?”
You punched Chan’s arm.
He winced. “What did I do?” he mouthed innocently.
“Shut up. Wonwoo is just Wonwoo. Let the guy breathe. He just came back from his part-time job,” you huffed.
You placed a pair of black cat ears on his head. He didn’t protest.
“And he’s Jiji,” you announced proudly.
Wonwoo hadn’t dressed up. He had come straight from his shift, still in his all-black gear leather jacket, jeans, helmet tucked under his arm.
“Who?” Seungkwan and Chan asked in unison.
Vernon called out from the kitchen, “The cat.”
“Ohhh.”
That was enough for them.
More importantly, a part of you finally felt healed. The failed situationship didn’t feel that serious anymore. Well, you would’ve appreciated it if Seungcheol hadn’t led you on to the point of kissing you.
Anyway.
You only told Chan about that. Not the other two. Seungkwan would’ve gone absolutely apeshit, especially considering how vocal he’d always been about not liking Mingyu, even though Mingyu wasn’t that bad compared to most guys.
Definitely not your brother. Or his friend.
And absolutely not your cousins Jihoon and Soonyoung.
God, that would’ve been embarrassing. They would’ve made a whole scene out of it and bring it up about your bad choice of men for years.
You didn’t even tell Wonwoo.
Not that it mattered now. You were too busy being happy in your healthy relationship.
Wow.
You could actually call it a relationship now.
That alone felt like progress.
And who wouldn’t be on cloud nine when Wonwoo had sent you a huge bouquet of roses yesterday? Seungkwan had gushed about it more than you did and even posted it on his Instagram story like he was the one who received them. Then this morning, you got yellow tulips. He said they suited you more because they meant “the sunshine of your smile.”
You almost hit his chest out of affection which you tended to do often enough that he nearly bruised from it.
You were all having a great time eating and talking. You even made sure to FaceTime your cousin and Soonyoung, who had dressed up as characters from Winnie the Pooh, Piglet and Tigger.
How typical.
You had told Wonwoo about your cousin before, insisting he meet him one day.
“He looks mean, but he’s a softie. Don’t worry,” you’d said.
“And his friend looks like he might bite. Maybe.” You were obviously referring to Soonyoung.
As you and your friends began cleaning up and collecting trash, the doorbell rang again.
You froze.
Who would come this late? Thank God you weren’t alone.
You opened the door to reveal a guy in a Deadpool costume.
You just stared.
Sensing the silence, he pulled off the mask.
You brightened instantly. “Chanyeol?” you laughed as he opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.
“Wow. Where’s the little girl who used to miss me every time I visited?” he teased, glancing at your brother beside him.
“I’m wondering who the real brother is, to be honest,” Kyungsoo muttered, appearing next to him.
You let them in, welcoming them warmly.
But the joy lasted only a second.
Chanyeol gasped dramatically when he saw three unfamiliar men in your living room excluding Chan, whom he obviously knew.
“_____!” Chanyeol grabbed your shoulders and shook you lightly, pointing accusingly at them. “I thought you were going to marry me if I showed up in an Iron Man costume?!”
Kyungsoo blinked. “Excuse me, what?”
Chan immediately stood up to greet your brother, pulling him into a hug before dapping Chanyeol afterward.
You groaned. “Okay, first of all, I never said that. And second, I was seven, okay?”
You ended up introducing all of them. They say if you introduce your friends or your lover to your family, it means that person is decent enough to be shown genuinely good. And lastly, you casually mentioned that you have a boyfriend.
Your brother and his friend’s reactions weren’t exactly positive. At least, not from the looks of it.
“Oh.” That’s all Kyungsoo said.
Chanyeol choked a little, struggling to swallow his water. “That’s… nice?” he coughed.
“I mean, I figured Chan is decent. He’s okay, I guess.” your brother added blatantly, like he wasn’t standing right there.
“Hey! I heard that, you know,” Chan retorted from the kitchen while cleaning up.
You immediately shook your head. “Uh, no. He’s just there.” You jerked your thumb toward Wonwoo, who was tying up the trash bag.
They didn’t even hide the daggers they were sending, especially your brother. You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. He’s decent too. He treats me nicely.”
“Okay, he’s decent, but why is he dressed all black with cat ears? He looks mean as hell.”
You almost scoffed. Like who’s talking? Showing up in a full Spiderman, with his friend in a Deadpool costume.
“He’s not. It’s just his resting face.”
The rest of the night dragged on, your brother bombarding Wonwoo with questions like he was HR conducting an aggressive interview. You eventually had to kick them out for being annoying as hell.
One by one, your friends drifted off too after helping clean up.
It was only you and him. Alone.
You turned around, finally facing your boyfriend, feeling a little bashful about it.
Boyfriend.
“Hi, girlfriend.” He smiled at you. You always thought his smile was cute, especially the way his eyes squeezed slightly, creating that tiny nose scrunch. When you once pointed it out as a compliment, he immediately launched into a whole scientific explanation about facial structures and muscles that caused it.
You smiled back shyly. “Hi, boyfriend.”
You slowly stepped backward, and he stepped forward, mirroring your movements until your back hit the kitchen counter. He caged you in with a grin resting on his face.
You only grinned up at him innocently, acting like the two of you were still in the honeymoon phase as if you hadn’t already been together for more than a month now. If you calculated everything, you’d known him since last semester. You started off as friends, and then this happened which made it, what, three months and more?
Damn. It’s been that long?
You didn’t care much about the numbers, but you were sure you were lucky as hell to have met him and felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner.
You had planned to match your Halloween costumes (mainly you). At first, you considered going as Little Red Riding Hood with him as the wolf, but you didn’t want Chan pointing out how kinky it would look. God, you wanted to slap him sometimes for being that annoying. The plan never happened anyway since Wonwoo had his shift and there wasn’t enough time to change things.
So you decided to roleplay a little.
“My, what big ears you have, grandmother.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he removed the cat ears. “Well… all the better to hear you with, baby.” He stayed there, hands still braced on either side of you.
“But grandmother, what big eyes you have.”
He raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses. Now he knew what you were up to, but he was willing to indulge in your little foreplay. “It’s just my glasses. But all the better to see you clearly.”
Your hands trailed up his chest, your eyes glinting as you looked up at him. “Oh, but grandmother, what a terribly big mouth you have.”
Oh. Now he definitely knew.
He couldn’t help the wider, almost wolfish grin that spread across his face. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer as he leaned in.
“All the better to eat you with…” he murmured against your ear, and you shivered.
You felt the warmth of his breath linger against your skin, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. “You’re terrible,” you whispered, though your hands tightened in his shirt instead of pushing him away.
“For indulging you?” he murmured.
“For knowing exactly what you’re doing.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low in his chest, vibrating against you. His nose brushed your cheek, again that stupid little scrunch appearing when he smiled.
Effortlessly, he lifted you onto the counter, settling you against the cool surface as he stepped between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, fingers splaying over the soft skin there.
“Comfortable?” he asked, though his gaze was already roaming appreciatively over you.
“Very,” you confirmed, leaning forward to kiss him.
He kissed you back immediately, lips finding yours in a slow, deliberate press. It was soft at first, unhurried, but it deepened when he felt you respond. One hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, while the other slid to your waist, holding you steady.
It turned heated quickly.
His hands began to wander, moving lower, brushing over the fabric of your dress. His thumb traced slow circles along your inner thigh, the thin material of your stockings doing little to dull the warmth of his touch. The warmth of his touch lingered even through the thin barrier of fabric, and your breath hitched despite yourself.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His eyes flickered up to yours, darker now and slower as if he was watching every reaction like he was studying something precious. “You’re sensitive,” he murmured, not teasing. Just observing.
Your fingers curled tighter into his shirt. “Shut up.”
That only made the corner of his mouth tilt.
Instead of moving further, he paused. That pause was worse. His thumb continued its lazy path along your thigh, never crossing any line, just close enough to make you hyperaware of the space between you. Of him standing there, steady and warm and entirely in control.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
The shift in tone softened something in your chest.
You nodded, swallowing. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He leaned in again, but this time the kiss wasn’t rushed or consuming. It was slower and intentional. His lips moved against yours with a quiet confidence that made your toes curl inside your shoes.
His hand at your waist tightened slightly grounding, not claiming.
When you tried to chase the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction. Not denying you.
Just making you wait.
“You were bold a minute ago,” he murmured near your lips. “What happened to Red Riding Hood?”
Your cheeks burned, but you lifted your chin anyway. “She’s not scared of the wolf.”
A low sound left his throat at that not quite a laugh. “Good,” he said softly. And this time when he kissed you again, it was deeper, slower like he had all the time in the world.
Where is your heart?
Sometimes you really need to think before acting. You’re a smart girl. Use that brain. But occasionally, you find yourself stumbling forward before your thoughts can even catch up. That’s how you ended up tangled with Seungcheol once. You were thrown to the wolves, and you promised yourself you’d never walk into that forest again.
Blame it all on Mingyu.
Come to think of it, the whole thing feels strange now. You had a hunch back then that maybe he was just playing with you, that maybe he wasn’t serious, or…
God.
You need to stop thinking about it.
If he did play your feelings like a fiddle, your old self wouldn’t have known how to handle it. It hurts less now that you’re with Wonwoo, but it still sucks in some quiet, annoying way.
Your thoughts slowed when you reached a familiar place.
The same place you used to come to clear your head when your studies overwhelmed you. You always considered it a one-time thing when Mingyu brought you here. That was also where you first met your situationship.
And then your eyes landed on a familiar bike.
Wonwoo’s.
You were almost impressed that you recognized it from across the street. Curiosity pricked at you. He told you he wasn’t the party type. So why was he here? At Yugyeom’s house? Maybe Mingyu dragged him along. It wasn’t your business anyway. Your boyfriend can do whatever he wants. You don’t control his life. He’s his own person.
Still.
Sometimes you can’t help but wonder.
Was Wonwoo lying to you?
No.
You shook the thought away almost immediately. He’s always been honest. Always reassuring. Always steady. But your mind drifted back to that night when he approached you after his crash, when you both happened to meet at this very place.
Did he already know about Seungcheol back then? Did he know him personally?
The thought made your stomach twist. It would be embarrassing, considering you once admitted to Wonwoo that you liked Seungcheol before. Now that you’re dating, you sometimes wonder what he really thinks about that.
He’s never been openly jealous. But you can tell. He’s… possessive.
Not in a suffocating way. Just subtle and quiet. The way his hand lingers a second longer. The way his gaze sharpens when someone stands too close.
You never pointed it out. You just noticed. And strangely enough, it makes you feel giddy.
Right now, you couldn’t help wanting to know more.
It would be a lie to say you’d never thought Wonwoo could be secretive at times. You figured it wasn’t that he was hiding things, he just didn’t share unnecessary details. Or things he thought weren’t good for you to hear.
You weren’t a child.
But he had this tendency to shield you from ugly things. Not keeping you in the dark, just… preventing you from getting burned by things that didn’t concern you.
You always thought it was sweet.
Maybe a little overprotective.
Still sweet.
And yet, here you were.
You ended up going inside anyway, jacket thrown over your pajamas. In your defense, you had just come back from the convenience store downstairs for a quick snack.
You didn’t plan this.
The inside was rowdy as usual. Loud music boomed through the walls, bass vibrating against your ribs. The air smelled like cheap alcohol and something faintly sweet and burnt.
You remembered this atmosphere.
You sometimes felt out of place in crowds like this. Sure, it was fun when you came with your friends. But this was different. Closer to a frat house vibe though you’d never actually been to one. Seungkwan and Chan once dramatically claimed this place was “defiled,” whatever that meant.
You weaved through the crowd, people brushing past you. A few gave you odd looks probably because you were underdressed. You were aware of that. Very aware. But you didn’t know what possessed you to come in here like this. Maybe you just wanted to see what Wonwoo was doing. Maybe you were just nosy as hell.
Or maybe…
The paranoia was really kicking in now. Was it because of your past experience? You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to let you sleep with a heavy heart or leave you drowning in unsaid thoughts.
Just as you were about to spot his figure, someone suddenly pulled you aside, preventing you from crashing into a group holding drinks.
You blinked, staring at the person who had grabbed your arm.
Seungcheol.
It had been a while.
He looked just as surprised as you did. Realizing his grip, he released you almost immediately. “Sorry… I was just—” He paused. “I saw you here, wandering around in… pajamas?” His brows furrowed slightly. “Why are you here?”
You didn’t answer right away. It felt awkward seeing him again after he ghosted you.
“Um. Yeah. I was just looking for someone…”
A heavy pause lingered between you.
He looked… apologetic. And maybe he should be. Every time he tried approaching you before, you’d avoid him, sometimes deliberately clinging to Wonwoo so he’d back off.
Maybe that was petty.
But you couldn’t face him after what happened. And eventually, you just stopped caring, too focused on Wonwoo to bother.
“Hey… I know I was a dick for leaving you hanging like that.” He inhaled slowly. “And I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t mean to lead you on and…” His voice trailed off.
The atmosphere shifted.
He was choosing his words carefully, and you listened despite yourself.
“I just… I don’t know how to explain it,” he continued. “I know I was a bastard for leading you. I realized I couldn’t keep doing that to you because you’re too genuine.”
You weren’t sure how to take that. The old you might’ve demanded a proper explanation. Closure. Something.
But now?
It didn’t matter.
You were happy with what you had.
Before you could respond, two guys slung their arms around Seungcheol’s shoulders. He shot them an annoyed look.
“Hey, man!” the first one slurred, clearly tipsy. His eyes landed on you. “Oh? Isn’t this the chick you were supposed to woo?” He laughed like you weren’t even standing there.
You didn’t like the way he said that.
The other one squinted at you, scrutinizing. “Wait… you’re Jeon’s girl, right?”
You didn’t answer. But you knew exactly who they meant.
“Fuck off,” Seungcheol snapped, shoving them off. “Don’t mind them,” he told you quickly.
You turned, ready to leave this garbage place.
Then one of them called out again. “Don’t be upset, man!” he laughed. “You lost the bet. Don’t tell me you’re mad you couldn’t get her into your bed.”
Your steps halted.
So it really was a bet. You’d suspected it. You’d known, deep down, it wasn’t real.
But hearing it said out loud felt different.
Colder.
And then the other guy opened his mouth again. “Man, don’t act like you didn’t tell Jeon about it,” he slurred. “Wasn’t he there that night? He knew you were messing around.”
Your breath stopped.
Seungcheol’s head snapped toward him. “Shut up.”
“What?” the guy laughed. “You said it yourself. You weren’t even serious. Just wanted to see if you could pull it off before Jeon—”
“Enough.” The sharpness in Seungcheol’s voice cut through the music.
But it was too late.
You were already storming out of the damn house.
The cold night air hits you immediately sharp, quiet, almost cruel. For the first time in a long while, you didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. You didn’t understand why it hit this hard. Sure, it stung knowing you were never taken seriously back then. That part? You could swallow it. But when they mentioned Wonwoo - your heart dropped. Because he knew. Maybe not Seungcheol directly. Maybe not every detail. But he knew those guys.
Which means... .something in your stupid, spiraling head started connecting dots that maybe weren’t even meant to be connected.
He knew these people. So how much did he know?
When you told him you used to like Seungcheol, you told him almost everything. Almost. You never mentioned the situationship. It felt unnecessary. Embarrassing. Something you didn’t want to relive.
He told you he was only close to Mingyu. So who were those guys who clearly knew him?
Had he lied?
Or was he just very good at hiding things?
The worst part was the possibility that Mingyu knew about that stupid bet too.
Was he part of it?
Your stomach twisted.
You had never felt so betrayed.
By your friend. By your boyfriend.
God, it was humiliating after everything you and Wonwoo had built.
Was this why he was secretive sometimes? Was this the “bad things” he didn’t want you to see?
You always saw him as someone unbothered. Detached from unnecessary drama. You never judged Mingyu’s lifestyle either despite everything, he was still a good person.
But now you were questioning all of it again. And it made your chest feel unbearably heavy.
So fucking heavy.
Your breathing turned shallow, uneven. The cold air didn’t help. It felt like your lungs couldn’t expand fully, like something invisible was pressing down on you.
Suffocating.
Before you even realized it, your vision blurred. Tears pooled, then spilled. You crouched down in the middle of the cold night, arms wrapping around your knees as a sob tore out of you.
Was I ever truly loved?
The thought hit harder than anything else.
Was that why it felt so easy for Wonwoo to slip into the boyfriend role? Why he never hesitate? Never questioned it?
Maybe it was natural to him. Maybe he’d been waiting. Waiting for the right moment to step in like a knight in shining armor when Jia humiliated him and you rushed to defend him.
God.
What if you weren’t saving him? What if you were walking straight into something he already knew would happen? Instead of him being played, you were the one being played. Maybe you were just convenient. The conclusion made you want to claw your own heart out.
All this time, you’d been afraid you were the dishonest one, hiding that stupid situationship because it felt irrelevant, embarrassing. And yet somewhere along the way, you learned to love him.
Sincerely, genuinely.
And now here you were again, in another humiliating position. The gullible girl. He must think you’re easy.
The thought made you feel sick.
After everything, after loving him so much it physically hurt. This is what you get?
The betrayal burned. From your friend. From him.
It hurts so fucking much.
The next day on campus, you looked awful. You cried most of the night. You didn’t answer his calls. You didn’t reply to his texts. You just let the screen light up and fade again and again.
When he showed up at your apartment with food and medicine, you accepted it quietly. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.
He looked worried. That almost made it worse.
The days after that blurred together. You avoided him on campus, sticking close to your friends. When they asked if you were okay, you brushed it off with a weak “I’m just not feeling well.”
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Your phone was filled with missed calls and unread messages from him.
You replied once. Just one line that is ‘I’m unwell.’ That was it.
Eventually, you told Chan. Only Chan.
He was the closest thing to family you had here. You called him that night and everything spilled out of you in broken pieces. Every doubt. Every ugly conclusion. Every fear you didn’t want to admit out loud. You sobbed so hard your chest hurt. And for once, Chan didn’t joke. He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t tease and dramatize your whole stuff.
He just listened. When you begged him not to hang up, he stayed. You ended up falling asleep on call, the line still connected because you needed something—someone to keep you from feeling completely alone.
As annoying as he could be, he was always there. And that was probably the first time he didn’t make a single joke.
…
It’s been five days since everything happened.
You ended up shutting Wonwoo out. You know it’s unfair, you should’ve just asked him instead of sitting alone with your thoughts, letting them rot in the dark. But you can’t. You’re too afraid it’ll turn out exactly the way you fear.
What if he is part of it? What if he actually loves you?
That might be even worse. You don’t want this to turn into some stupid cliché story. It feels horrible.
You’re burnt out. Maybe even depressed. More than just heartbroken.
Chan would’ve definitely called you out for looking like absolute shit right now but he doesn’t. Not when you look this bad. Your head rests against his shoulder as he sits beside you on the bed, fingers intertwined with his. For once, he doesn’t complain when you seek physical affection. He just lets you stay there, quiet and small, needing warmth.
You sniffle, cheek pressed against his arm, grip tightening slightly. “…Am I that unlovable?” you ask meekly. A moment of weakness.
You’ve skipped class for two days now. You feel so unwell. So drained.
Chan sighs softly, resting his chin on top of your head. “No. No, you’re not.”
Your throat tightens. “Do you love me?” Of course you’d question everything now your worth, your existence, all of it.
He stiffens. He can tell you’re about to cry again, and he’s terrible at comforting people.
“Of course I love you. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re just saying that because I’m sad.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have stuck around if I’d been farting in your face for years.”
You frown and hit his arm. “Not funny.”
He winces. “Wasn’t supposed to be?” he scoffs lightly, before pulling your head back to his shoulder and patting your hair more gently. “Come on. Don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry like that.”
Silence settles between you.
Then he tries again. “You know… when I first saw you, I knew a grand adventure was about to happen.”
Your lips twitch. “You mean when we were seven and you threw a stick at me?”
“Yeah,” he smiles. “From that moment on, I knew any day spent with you would be my favorite day. So today’s my favorite day too.”
You smile faintly. “That’s sweet.”
“I know,” he replies softly.
Another quiet stretch.
You still feel heavy. He notices. Of course he does.
Vernon has been sending you playlists non-stop since he found out you were sad. Unfortunately, half of them are Taylor Swift songs which only makes you feel worse. Great job, man.
You sigh. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get married,” you mumble. “I don’t even want to fall in love. Who would ever want to marry me?”
There’s a pause.
“I would,” Chan says simply.
You lift a brow, amused despite yourself.
“Remember when we roleplayed marriage when we were twelve?” he continues. “The ridiculous paper rings? Your mom’s red lipstick that you smeared all over my face? I had to use Clorox to get it off.”
You laugh, genuinely this time. “Hey. That ring was not ridiculous. It was cute.”
“And you stole my first kiss.”
“That was my first kiss too.”
You both burst into laughter. And for the first time in days, your chest doesn’t feel quite as tight.
You stay there like that. Comfortable.
The moment feels easy. Light. Just like it used to feel when you were with Wonwoo.
You hate how familiar that warmth is. Hate how your body remembers it so easily. You don’t want to think about him, but you do anyway, recalling the things you did together, the small habits, the quiet laughter.
It hurts. So much.
“I don’t know, Chan…” you start, your voice already wobbling again much to his immediate panic. “All of our friends know we’re inseparable. They know how close we are, and yet…” You gesture vaguely, frustration spilling over. “He just played my heart like—like Pooh or something.”
Chan blinks. “Like as in… Winnie the Pooh?”
You ignore him. “I even introduced him to half of my family. What am I supposed to do now?” Your sobs return, softer but heavier, soaking into his sweater as you bury your face into his arm.
“Hey, hey.” He pats your head awkwardly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You should forgive yourself first…”
He swallows. He’s never been good with words. He’s never seen you this broken before.
When he was the one getting picked on as a kid, you were the one who stood in front of him. You were always stronger. “…Whatever happens,” he continues carefully, “I’ll be by your side, okay? It makes me feel like an asshole seeing you cry like this, knowing I’m not even the one who caused it.”
Your sobs soften at that, turning into hiccups.
He panics again and reaches for tissues, dabbing at your cheeks in clumsy little motions.
“Y-you know…” you choke out, “he never even swore. He was always nice to me. Of course I didn’t notice… God, I feel so, so stupid.”
Chan sighs, wiping the last of your tears. “…What kind of guy has never cursed in his life?” he mutters. “Maybe only during—”
He stops himself too late.
Your face crumples again.
Because Wonwoo did swear. Especially during intimate moments. And now you’re crying harder.
Chan stiffens. “O-okay! Okay, no, no, no—don’t cry!” He fumbles, half hugging you, half trying to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry! I’m stupid! I didn’t mean it like that!”
You just sob into his sweater.
He groans in frustration. “Fine! I’ll be your boyfriend and marry you if you stop crying—dammit!”
After a while, your bedroom door slowly creaks open with a few soft knocks.
One—no, two figures step in, plushies covering their faces. One holds Pooh. The other holds Tigger. The two characters you’ve loved since childhood.
Your tears slowly subside as you sniffle.
“Glad to meet ya! Name’s Tigger! T-I-double guh-er! That spells Tigger!” the Tigger waves dramatically, using the plush’s paw to greet you, voice exaggerated and cartoonish.
Your brows lift.
Then Pooh speaks in an oddly high-pitched tone. “Hi. I am short, fat, and proud of that.”
You blink.
“Come on, Ji. We practiced this. That’s not what Pooh would say.” Soonyoung lowers the Tigger plush, glaring.
Jihoon, your cousin scoffs. “I told you I’m not doing this.”
They immediately begin bickering like children.
You slowly turn to Chan, frowning. “You told them?”
Chan raises both hands defensively. “I only told them you needed emotional support and that you were sad.”
You don’t argue. If anything, you feel a little lighter. Being here, surrounded by them, your family feels like home. They are home. Despite all this warmth, though, you still somehow ended up in such a foolish position. You only ever wanted someone to accept all of you. To understand that when you love, you love completely.
Unconditionally.
Soonyoung carefully sits on the bed beside you, brushing a slightly damp strand of hair away from your face. “…You okay, little bee?” he asks gently.
You give him a faint smile. “A little. Now that you’re both here.”
Jihoon doesn’t look convinced. Of course he isn’t. He can tell this runs deeper, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he places the Pooh plush in your lap and sits at the edge of the bed.
“It’s okay,” Soonyoung reassures. “Happiness doesn’t come with grades. Just look at Chan, he seems happy with his barely passing CGPA.”
Chan frowns. “I was passing.”
Soonyoung ignores him, swatting his hand away. “I have a friend. His name is Seokmin. He’s really, really nice. He even apologized to ants when he accidentally stepped on them.”
All of you slowly turn to look at him.
Your brows knit together.
“I don’t appreciate you introducing a guy to her like that,” Jihoon deadpans.
You honestly have no idea what’s going to happen next. At some point, you’ll have to face Wonwoo again. You need to settle whatever this relationship was.
Was it even real?
Maybe you should’ve crashed out. Screamed. Swung a bat. Or used that frozen baguette Jeonghan once left in his abandoned fridge.
“She can’t. Okay? That’s final,” Chan cuts in firmly.
You appreciate that he speaks up. You don’t think you’d ever survive loving someone like that again.
Soonyoung sighs dramatically. “It’s alright, little bee. The only thing you missed was swinging the bat and watching the man duck.”
Your lips curl slightly. “Thanks, but violence really isn’t my thing.”
“Well, it is mine,” Jihoon mutters.
You sigh. “It’s fine. Let’s not talk about men. I think I’ve had enough. I don’t ever want to get married or fall in love. Boyfriends are overrated anyway.”
Jihoon and Soonyoung exchange a glance. They know it’s about someone. They just don’t know the whole story.
“Hey,” Soonyoung says softly, nudging your shoulder. “Don’t say that. If anything, you still have us.” He pauses, then grins. “Also, I can be your boy—”
Before he can finish, Jihoon smacks the back of his head. “Ow!” Soonyoung rubs his scalp, offended. “I can do a backflip. Just saying.”
…
Just when you’re about to feel suspiciously relaxed, it hits you. Your responsibility and your relationship.
Swore you’d never end up in this position again – yeah, right. This feels worse than your old situationship ever did.
When your phone buzzes, you almost assume it’s Wonwoo. He’s been checking messages you’ve ignored constantly. It hurts every time you leave him on read while he’s practically begging to talk.
You’ve been avoiding him at all costs. Clinging to Chan instead. But the name on the screen isn’t Wonwoo this time, it was Mingyu.
You agree to meet him outside campus, near the small park. His text sounded urgent. Important. Aside from heartbreak, there’s another ache sitting in your chest. Disappointment. You thought a friend had broken your trust.
When you arrive, Mingyu jogs over. “Hey, shortcake…” he greets you with a crooked smile as he sits beside you on the bench. “…Did you wait long?”
You shake your head, offering a faint smile. “No. Not really.”
Silence settles between you. It was heavy and awkward. If anything, friendship betrayals hurt more than breakups.
Mingyu slides a paper bag toward you. You peek inside to find a slice of strawberry cake and carton of milk.
Wonwoo flashes across your mind instantly, and your chest tightens.
Mingyu groans, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Shit. How do I even start this?”
You look at him quietly.
“First, I’m apologizing. For all this mess. You didn’t deserve it.”
So he knows.
He swallows. “To be fair, I had no idea about that bet. Cross my heart. If I’d known those jackasses made some stupid deal with Seungcheol, I would’ve swung at them immediately.” He pauses. “Which I did.”
You frown, finally turning to face him fully.
“Cheol told me everything after that night. You were there — that’s why. We ended up fighting. Those two idiots deserved the beating anyway.”
Your eyes drop to his knuckles. Slightly scraped.
“…You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur. Now guilt creeps in that his friendship with Seungcheol strained because of this. Because of you.
He waves it off. “It’s fine. They were disrespecting you. I couldn’t just sit there.”
He hesitates.“…I heard you and Wonwoo were together though. I only found out recently. My own best friend didn’t even tell me.” He lets out a dry chuckle, glancing at how quiet you’ve become.
“He’s miserable, you know.”
Your head lifts instantly.
Mingyu nods toward the paper bag. “That’s from him. Not me. He figured you wouldn’t want to see him, so he asked me to pass it to you.”
Your throat tightens.
“He’s been depressed these past few days. He didn’t know about the bet. He was only there that night because I was wasted and he had to drag my ass home.”
Mingyu exhales. “He’s not what you think he is. He’s a good guy. Really.”
God.
You feel horrible.
You let your insecurity spiral. You let overthinking consume you whole. You knew you should’ve talked to him, but you were too scared to hear the worst.
You couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“Wonwoo’s not that kind of guy,” Mingyu continues gently. “You know that too. Those idiots only talked to you like that because Cheol called them out. Wonwoo never agreed to any stupid arrangement. If anything, Cheol just didn’t want some random prick getting close to you.”
Oh.
So Seungcheol did that because of… that?
His methods were questionable. Shitty, even.
But still.
Mingyu sighs and leans his head lightly against yours. “…Are we still friends, shortcake?”
You stare ahead for a moment.
Then you smile softly. “…Yeah. We are.”
After a moment, Mingyu exhales like he’s debating whether to continue. “I wasn’t supposed to say this,” he admits, rubbing his face. “But Wonwoo said he’s sorry. Sorry he didn’t tell you everything. That night… he almost beat the shit out of those guys. He even punched Seungcheol.”
You go still. You didn’t expect it to escalate that badly.
Something about it makes you feel… off. Not relieved. Not exactly guilty either. Just heavy. You don’t like drama. And if your brother or Chanyeol ever found out about this?
Oh, boy.
Your cousin and his friends? Absolutely not. They’d demand names. Addresses. Blood. You almost groan at the thought.
“As I said,” Mingyu continues, shaking his head in disbelief, “if you’d seen him that night… you’d know he was holding back. If I hadn’t been there, I swear someone would’ve ended up in the hospital.”
He sounds almost impressed.
You sigh heavily. You were hurt, yes. But you never wanted something this big. And what if Seungkwan finds out too? You’ll never live through it.
Just when you’re about to calm down. Two figures approach.
Jia and her little sidekick. Fantastic timing.
“Well, if it isn’t goody two-shoes,” Jia sneers. You glare at her. “I’m surprised you’re even outside after that.” Her eyes drop to Mingyu. She scoffs.
Her friend pipes up, smirking. “Wow. First Seungcheol and Wonwoo… now Mingyu? I didn’t know you were such an attention whore.”
You feel nothing. Just tired.
“Fuck off. Both of you,” Mingyu says flatly, draping his arm casually behind your shoulders. Protective and easy. “Didn’t take my rejection well, huh? Is that why you’re still bitter?”
He grins.
Their faces flush instantly.
Ah.
So that’s what this is.
You blink slowly. You genuinely don’t have the energy for this. You wish you brought your Nerf gun again like the other day. Jia keeps talking, probably something meant to make you feel small but your brain is elsewhere. You just want to go home. Eat. Sleep.
It’s been relentless harassment. Enough is enough.
Before you even process it, the carton of milk in your hand flies. It splashes directly onto Jia’s face.
Silence.
She gasps, stunned.
You blink. You didn’t even realize you’d done it.
Mingyu stares at you in shock, then bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
“Why, you bi—!” Before she can slap you, another splash arrives. It was banana milk this time. Seungkwan stands there, arm still extended from the throw.
“You again?” Jia shrieks in disbelief.
Oh, no.
You feel it. This is about to escalate.
Seungkwan drops his bag into Mingyu’s arms and starts rolling up his sleeves.
“You can insult whoever you want,” he says with a sarcastic scoff, “but not my bumblebee.”
And he didn’t hesitate to grab her hair while she grabbed his back. They start screaming. It’s absolute chaos. You’re pretty sure hers are extensions. Before Jia’s friend can intervene, Chan appears out of nowhere, grabbing her arm. She kicks him, making yelp. Mingyu tries to separate them but catches an accidental elbow from Seungkwan straight to the stomach and doubles over.
You turn desperately toward Vernon for help but see him standing off to the side. With his ass recording. Muttering something about how this is going to be legendary. Possibly waiting for Chan to attempt a backflip mid-fight.
You stare at him in disbelief.
Before you can even process what’s happening, two familiar faces step into the scene. The jerks from that party.
They stride in like backup, clearly here for the girls. It clicks instantly, they were acquaintances. You feel something snap. You have no reason to be kind anymore. If crashing out is the theme of the day, then so be it.
One of them steps toward you, hand lifting like he’s about to grab you. If you think wisdom is chasing Mingyu, he is faster. “Hold on, buddy,” he mutters, rolling his shoulders. “Bet you missed my knuckle sandwich. Say bye.”
His fist connects with the guy’s jaw cleanly.
You gasp, hand flying to your mouth.
The guy stumbles but doesn’t back down.
And somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, Seungcheol appears at the right time. You don’t even remember spotting him, but instinctively you shout, “Cheol!” He doesn’t hesitate either. Next thing you know, his fist lands square on the second guy.
Oh my God.
Now it’s a full-blown mess.
Seungkwan is still yelling, hair-pulling ongoing. Chan is trying to restrain someone while dodging kicks. Vernon attempts to help but gets accidentally elbowed by Seungkwan mid-rant and just stands there, betrayed, still recording. Insults are flying. People are shouting. Mingyu is swinging. Seungcheol looks two seconds away from catching a body.
You make a very smart decision. You are not joining that.
Absolutely not.
While everyone is too busy reenacting a low-budget action film, you step back and pull out your phone to call for your emergency contact. You were contemplating who to call. Not your cousin. Definitely not your brother. If they show up, someone’s actually going to jail.
Your thumb hovers for half a second. Then you press call.
Wonwoo.
Listed under: my pookie bf <3 (emergency contact)
(Which, for the record, is what you labeled almost everyone in your contacts… except Chan.)
The phone rings. Around you, chaos erupts.
And you realize, distantly, that this is the first time you’ve reached out to him since you started avoiding him.
The line clicks.
“…Hello?”
There are certain people who are friends on a whole different level. Like you and Chan. You consider it soul-level. He’s been there since diapers, through bad haircuts, ugly phases, and college.
And then there’s Seungkwan and Vernon. You didn’t even mean to be friends at first. You and Chan met on the wrong foot during your first orientation when Chan farted on Seungkwan’s jacket. Guess the universe has its ways of making all of you inseparable.
You never planned this friendship. The world just knew you needed someone like them to make you feel brighter. And better. Maybe even better at loving.
You did end up seeking Wonwoo’s help.
So how did it end up with all of you including Seungcheol and Mingyu squeezed into a fast-food diner now?
Jia and her henchmen eventually ratted themselves out. Not that they’re relevant anymore.
All of you squeezed around the same table, munching on your food like you just celebrated a world victory.
You had an ice pack, about to gently press it against Cheol’s cheek when Seungkwan snatched it from you and shoved it onto his face, a little too harshly. “Oh, he’s not a baby. I’m sure you can do it yourself, hm?” he said with a restrained smile, as Cheol glared at him, clearly annoyed.
Right. There’s a lot to unpack here.
You sat between Chan and Wonwoo, practically squeezed in.
Vernon shifted between Mingyu and Cheol, looking uncomfortable. “...I think I’m about to be sandwiched here.”
Another shuffle, as Seungkwan purposely moved beside Seungcheol. “Move, fatass,” he grumbled, and they started bickering again.
Chan sighed, dipping another fry into his mouth as he ate quietly. His hair looked like a bird’s nest, similar to his ugly haircut back in middle school.
You almost smiled.
You remembered Wonwoo was just beside you. You glanced at his bruised knuckles and almost sighed at the sight as you softly held his hand, brushing over it gently.
He let you. He still didn’t look at you, afraid to meet your eyes, like he didn’t deserve to see you eye to eye.
It made your heart tug a little. You tapped his hand softly. When his gaze finally met yours, he smiled at the face he had missed so much.
“Hi, boyfriend,” you smiled at him, genuinely. You didn’t need to ask anything. Mingyu had already explained everything, and Seungcheol had apologized just minutes ago.
Wonwoo’s lips curled softly. “Hi, girlfriend.”
It felt like you two were the only ones in the world. The rest didn’t matter.
You saw his long paragraph messages. You read his heartfelt texts. You heard his voice notes, the ones where he drunkenly cried and confessed everything.
You feel bad now. But you’d make up for it with kisses and pick-up lines later, when you’re alone with him.
Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Soonyoung and Jihoon though it really seemed like only Soonyoung made the dramatic entrance. His eyes fell on your table as he rushed over.
You had called them earlier, but they didn’t pick up. You only managed to text: “Shit is about to go down.”
They were too late anyway.
Soonyoung looked at you. “Which bastard?”
His eyes scanned everyone before landing on Mingyu, and without hesitation, he headlocked him. Mingyu whimpered, tapping his arm. “Not me! Not me!”
“Was it you?” Jihoon asked, raising an eyebrow at Vernon.
Vernon’s eyes widened immediately, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa, chill. I’m one of her homies.”
You sighed, burying your face in your palms as Chan cackled, fries still in his mouth.
God, this is embarrassing. This is exactly why you didn’t want any of your people to know what you’ve been through. Good thing your brother doesn’t know or someone would be facing court charges.
Then the waiter slid in, not caring about the scene Soonyoung just made.
Chan hummed when he saw the strawberry parfait. “Did you order this?”
You shook your head. “Then who did?”
“It was me, actually,” Wonwoo admitted as the treat was handed to him.
You weren’t really in the mood, but since he paid for it, you had to try it.
It was sweet - just like the strawberry milk he once gave you. Just like the first time you met him. He had been sweet and kind, helping you with calculus without hesitation.
You realized something. It was just that simple. You were never alone. All these people loved you. Wonwoo loved you. Maybe you were just scared. Maybe you let your thoughts consume you too easily.
“You know,” Chan suddenly said, scooping his almost-empty sundae, “this reminds me of that time ____ and I got free ice cream when we faked being a couple and got free rides at the amusement park.”
All eyes turned to him like he’d just said the most normal thing in the world.
You punched his arm.
He winced, rubbing it as he stared at all of you. “What? You guys don’t do that with your friends? You know, go to an amusement park or something?”
His eyes flicked toward Wonwoo and Seungcheol. “Wow. Not even you guys?”
They didn’t bother answering.
“I feel special somehow.”
...
The rest was history. All of you ended up going on an impromptu beach hangout to watch the sunset, typical Seungkwan suggestion.
And now, it’s only you and Wonwoo left behind.
Alone.
How silly of you to forget how far you’ve come just because you still have a long way to go. Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.
Just like you thought, perhaps this would be your favorite day. With your friends. With Wonwoo.
“I have a question,” Wonwoo started, facing you, his hands still holding yours as you listened intently. “When you wake up in the morning, what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”
You considered it briefly. “Hm. Realistically speaking, I always wonder what’s for breakfast… and lunch later,” you said. “What about you, Won?”
Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head as he hummed softly. “I say… I wonder what exciting thing is going to happen today.”
He leaned closer, smiling gently. “Because I always look forward to another day with you.”
You melted at his words, wrapping your arms around his nape as the two of you ended up kissing in the middle of the beach.
Wonwoo was right. There were still so many adventures waiting for both of you. And you couldn’t wait to explore them—with him, and with your friends.
You’d say…
It was better than ever.
FIN.
A/N: we've come to the end, apples. sorry for the delays and tq sm for the loves given from the first part arghhh. i was doing charity work lmao. anw, i wasn't feeling good about the ending but i think it was rather sweet. the reason why i didn't add jeonghan n joshua, they would be unstoppable. also, all chan loverssss out there, don't be sad, i promised i will make another fic of him lmao. anywhomst, thank uu once again, dearest apples. pls keep on looking forward for my next work. reblogs and comments are appreciated sm.
WHILE THE WORLD SPEAKS ABOUT HUMAN RIGHTS, THIS IS THE REALITY.
For more than two and a half years, you have stood by me through some of the hardest moments of my life. Your support, your words, and your kindness helped us keep going when we were close to breaking. Because of you, we were able to hold on, and I will never forget that.
But the truth is, our story is not over yet.
We have lost everything, our home, our source of income, and the stability we once had. It feels like we are not just starting from zero, but trying to rise from below it.
Now things are even harder with my father’s illness. He needs ongoing care and treatment, while we are facing a complete lack of income. Even covering our basic daily needs has become a real struggle.
We are doing everything we can to stay strong, but we cannot do it alone anymore.
I am not asking for much, just for you to stand by us as you always have. Any support, no matter how small, can make a real difference. It can help us cover my father’s treatment, provide our basic needs, and help us keep going.
And if you are unable to donate, simply sharing our story could help it reach someone who can.
Thank you for being there for us and for not leaving us alone.
Dear Esteemed Donors,
My name is Ahmad, and I am a 16-year-old from northern Gaza… Ahmad family needs your support for Support Ahmad’s Fami
📌📌📌 Fundraiser vetted (#167 by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi), But we created a new GoFundMe page because GoFundMe suspended the beneficiary’s account.
My name is Ayaa from Gaza city, I am a children’s teacher, 24 years old, living with my parents and siblings. We all used to live a peacefu
Hello friends, I hope you are all well. I'm really not doing well. My mother is suffering terribly from tooth pain.
We need dental crowns, which cost over $700, and it's urgent.
Tumblr deleted all my accounts, and I've been trying to contact many of my former supporters, but without success. Please, my mother is in great pain. We're constantly visiting the dentist, and this is on top of providing food and drink for my family of eight. We also need to cover my parents' monthly chronic medication, which costs over $300. So please, try to share and spread the word about our situation so we can raise the money before Tuesday.
Hey, this ask isn’t exactly an about self-doubt, but feel free to ignore this anyway!
I came across a reel which was about certain fanfic “writers” who were caught using ai in their works, and many comments were along the lines of, “this is why I read fanfics written before 2020” or “the overuse of the em dash is always telling” or “if the sentences are choppy/if there is a lack of conjunctions, it’s probably ai”; you get the idea.
I have been writing for a while now, but I only started posting my works recently. While I’m aware that writing or anything creative should be done for personal enjoyment, it always feels good when your work is appreciated. But because of the insane AI witchhunts, I can’t help but feel that it hampers the way I write, as I am constantly thinking if I should write a sentence a certain way, or use a different kind of punctuation(for I like using the em dash), use certain vocabulary, etc. I’m aware that this is more of a personal problem. Even so, do you have any advice on how to get over this paranoia? Should I consider making slight changes in the way I write? Since you write fanfiction, what is your take on these AI witch hunts? This might seem like a silly ask overall, but I feel helpless as I really want to put my work out there, but I'm scared that it will be flagged.
I don’t know if you’ll see this, but thank you nevertheless <3
AI Fanfic Concerns
my take is they'll pass. the "witch hunt" is a handful of people with too much time on their hands (teenagers), time that could be better spent.
You won't be confronted. If anyone does, they've watched too many gossip vids and read too little literature for their literary criticism to matter. They can't harm you in a way that matters unless you let them hurt your feelings.
Scroll past or block drama-mongering videos like that. If you don't feed the paranoia it will eventually go away on its own.
Pairing: Criminal Jeon Wonwoo x Runaway F. Reader
WC: 14.6+K of ????
Rating: E 18+ MDNI
Genre: Non-Idol AU, Dystopian AU, Established relationship
Summary: Skyfall Industries is taking over the city, where the rich will benefit while the poor will suffer. With body modifications, sex, drugs, and alcohol there to help numb people from reality of it all. Your world is small, and is just getting smaller. So, when Skyfall Inds is finally at your door and threatening your home, you and Wonwoo will have a choice to make.
Warnings for part one: Violence, corruption/corporate control, explict smut, cybernetic body modifications, fake identify, cussing, blackmail, drug use, addiction (sorry soonyoung), drinking, smoking, crime, lying, wonwoo has a fake eye, possessiveness, wonwoo has a quick temper, pet names. please let me know if I forgot anything.
More tags will be added for part 2
A/N: This is part of Cyberpunk: Reload Collab by @studiosvt. Thank you so much for giving me the chance to take part in this collab. Thank you @aeristudios for helping me out with this and betareading, I did rewrite the end a bit after so that part is not 100% beta'ed. Oh and remember folks, I block ageless blogs.
A/N: I currently have it only at two parts but this may change depending on how much I yap.
Seventeen Masterlist
“Hey baby, you looking for a good time?” A sleazy voice called out when you walked past; the heavy unpleasant smell of booze, piss, old oil, and cigarette smoke heavily coming from that direction. It made your lips curl in disgust when the mixture met your nose and kept your eyes forward.
Pulling the large thick trench coat tighter around your body, you hoped that it would hide away the little outfit you wore to work and took the chance to inhale the comforting scent of your boyfriend that lingered on the fabric. Keeping you grounded and giving you the strength to bite your tongue.
You ignored the man and his friend yelling insults at your back as you continued your journey through the near empty streets of the Shadow District, back home. With one hand gripping the knife under the thick sleeves, one that Wonwoo had insisted you carry for protection. Luckily, you were able to go another day without having to use it, with the most those men could do was yell out names at your back as you disappear in the crowd.
Even with how early it was, or late depending on the person, the streets were still filled with people. Stores opening their doors to sell synthetically processed foods and supplements to help curve your hunger or thirst, groups of people still enjoying the night life despite the sky glowing grey with smog and sunrise, or those hiding in the shadows, waiting for someone to approach them for the drugs they had in their pockets.
Eagerly waiting for the next victim to get hooked and keep coming back for more.
That was life here in Huimang, named with the intentions of being a City of Hope, but hope was not even a luxury that many people could have. You being one of them, but this was still your home.
The apartment was quiet when you got in, with the grey morning light peeking through the blinds and violet lights that Wonwoo left for you. He was long asleep in your bedroom, greeted by golden eyes and soft meows from your shared cat instead. Her soft dark fur feeling comforting against your leg, and you were quick to shed the coat to pick her up.
“Hello to you too, Doodle Bug.” You cooed at the small feline, scratching the side of her head as you made your way into the small kitchen. Wiggling free, Doodle jumped from your arms to the floor, only to look back at you to meow and it brought a smile to your face, “Didn’t your dad feed you before he went to bed?”
This earned another meow from her, and you chuckled. “Alright, alright. You win. Early breakfast it is.”
After feeding the cat a can of her favorite food, you made sure her water bowl was full before making your way to the bathroom to clean up. The boots you switched to after work kicked off to a random corner of the small living room, the revealing top thrown over the back of the sofa, and your shorts that felt more like underwear left on the ground by the bathroom. You didn’t care that you would need to pick up everything later.
The shower felt amazing on your skin, the hot water washing away everything that had clung to you from working that night—sweat, spilled booze, tobacco smoke, the disgusting things that had been said to you, and the ghost of hands that tried to touch you as you tried to serve drinks.
It left the stripped away version of you. The real version of you, or what was left of it from years of running and trying to survive.
When you emerged from the steamy shower, the cold air of the apartment bit at your damp skin and a shiver ran through you. You were ready to slip into the warmth of your bed, into the warmth of Wonwoo. The shower may have washed everything away, but it also made you aware of how sore your muscles were, and how tired you were. Each day growing heavier on you, no matter how many hot showers you took.
You didn’t bother putting on any pajamas, just slipping onto the old worn bed, with your boyfriend sleeping on his side. His back faces you as you settled under the bedding and moved to mold your body against it, pressing your lips against his bare shoulder.
“How was work?” His voice was deeper than usual, rough with sleep, taking one of your hands that rested against his stomach. The sound and gesture making your lips upturn against his skin.
“The usual. Rich, drunk and high assholes that don’t know how to or even capable of keeping their hands too themselves. Thinking that flaunting their wealth, and expensive body mods will impress anyone enough to sleep with them.” You let out a soft sigh, eyes closed while you welcome the warmth of your boyfriend, feeling his thumb run over the back of your hand.
Wonwoo stopped before he shifted himself to sit up, causing you to lift your head in confusion. There was some dried drool at the corner of his mouth, his black hair a tangled mess from sleep, and a frown on his lips. He had taken his left eye out to sleep, so only his right one was opened and trained on you with concern.
Just looking at him made your heart flutter still after years together, still the most beautiful person you ever laid eyes on. You couldn’t stop from thinking of how lucky you were to have him love you and be in your corner. Your missing piece.
“They touched you?” He asked calmly, that sleepy rasp was now gone and something dangerous took center stage. “And Seungcheol did nothing about this?”
“Seungcheol wasn’t there tonight. You know if he was, or any of us said something, they would be out on their asses. Their credits aren’t any good there if they fuck with the servers, no matter how rich they claim to be.” You answer, rolling onto your back, trying to not giggle when his eye dropped to your bare breasts when they moved. You reached out to run your hand over his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s not anything I can’t handle, baby. They eventually get bored when they realized that I wouldn’t let them fuck me in the bathroom.”
“I should kill them for touching you.” His words sounded more like a growl while he leaned over you. His gaze slid over your frame before it returned to your face. “Only I can touch you.”
“As lovely as that sounds, I rather keep you next to me and not behind a glass window.” The hand that had been resting on his arm moved up to his neck so you could pull him into a kiss.
Wonwoo didn’t resist your pull, leaning down to find your lips, tasting the minty flavor of the teeth cleaning tablet still fresh on your tongue. The kiss was brief, but it still ignited a fire in you, your body warming, and it seeped to your core. You found yourself chasing his lips when he pulled back, the soft whine that left you earned a smirk from your boyfriend.
“Only I’m allowed to touch you.” He repeated, his mouth brushing against yours, slipping on top of you and his hips pushing your thighs open without any resistance from you. He didn’t wear clothes to bed, so when he pressed down, there was no barriers against his hardening cock and your own bare heat. Another moan escaped you, as your hips instinctually moved as if you would be able to catch the tip of his thick length just the right way. “Only I can fuck you in those bathrooms.”
“Is that so?” You teased, trying to not let your lashes flutter at the way Wonwoo’s strong hand grabbed your hips, holding it there with more pressure than needed, but you didn’t mind his possessiveness over you. He pulled his face back to give you a look, knowing that bratty but aroused smirk all too well, and had to hold back a very vocal groan feeling your cunt getting slicker against the underneath of his cock.
“Last I checked, I am in charge of who touches me, and where I get fucked.”
Wonwoo’s mouth latched onto yours, this time his kiss hungry to taste you again, relishing that you returned that same hunger. You were tired, your body desperate for sleep, but you could never pass up a moment like this; especially when you know letting him fuck you would help you sleep better.
His hands moved down your body, caressing your breasts and teased your hardened peaks, while his tongue took claim of yours. Teasing and sucking on it, each of you swallowing moans his hips moving against yours, his cock sliding through your slit teasingly. Letting himself be coated by your arousal, teasing you.
“You want to play a little, or just want me to fuck you?” Wonwoo asked, pulling from the kiss, his eye looking over your face, a lazy smirk playing over his lips. The question made you laugh because it didn’t sound the least bit romantic or intimate, but at the same time, neither of you were aiming for that. Except you weren’t going to miss a chance to pick on him. “What?”
“You sure know how to romance a…oooh.” The words were lost when he shifted his hips back so that he could slip a hand between your legs, slender fingertips slipping between your folds and found your clit with practiced ease. “Fuck… Wonwoo…”
“If you want me to be romantic…” His voice was soft, his touch matched it in movement. Slow, gentle circles around your sensitive bud, teasing and earned whimpers from you. He was doing this on purpose. His lips barely brushed against your as he spoke again. “Then you’re out of luck.” You went to roll your eyes, but instead they rolled back when two fingers pushed into you, a little gasp leaving you while a groan left him. “Always so wet for me. This is why only I can fuck you.”
“Then do it, you dick.” You snapped, though there was no punch behind it, only to earn a chuckle from him. His fingers were going at a slow agonizing pace, like he hadn’t just woken from a deep sleep, and you didn’t just spend all night working. Taking his time like it wasn’t early hours in the morning.
“You’re demanding.”
“But you love me and will listen anyways.” And he did listen, withdrawing his fingers so he could line himself up; the thick tip barely pressed into you making you groan in a mix of frustration and anticipation. He may have listened, but he sure as hell was going to torture you a bit and pulled back when you would try to roll your hips. “Wonwoo!”
He did this to you a few more times before finally sinking into you, earning a moan of pleasure and relief as he took a quick inhale of breath. Your inner walls squeezed and molding to him in such a delicious way that he had to clear his head or he was going to cum right then.
“Fuck baby…” He groaned, stilling after he filled you completely, his forehead pressed against yours and both eyes squeezed shut this time. Your own body was shaking, relishing in the feel of him on top of you and inside you, fitting together like missing pieces.
When he finally started to move, Wonwoo created a tantalizing pace with his thrusts, making sure not only you felt every inch of his length but for his own enjoyment as well. He wasn’t in a rush, but neither of you were going to last long.
“I love you.” You moaned out, clinging to him in need to feel him over every inch of your skin. You needed to feel the weight of him on you, to be grounded, to know he’s still real, that you were still alive. Wonwoo’s mouth was hot on your collarbone, one hand holding onto your hip using his strength to keep you where he wanted you while the other massaged one of your breasts, leaving marks where it would be hard to hide.
“I love you too, fuck. I love you so fucking much,” His words came out labored, the deep vibrations of his voice sending waves over you with his words, his thrusts started to get sloppy quickly. Too lost in the feeling of you and exhaustion that still clung to him.
He was getting close to his release; except he refused to let go first. He had to make you come undone around him before he could. Wonwoo was a lot of things in life, but he was never a selfish lover; at least he never was one with you.
The hand that was massaging the fatty flesh of your breast slipped between you to give you a bit of help to get to your release. He smirked against your skin, gently pressing his lips to a fresh mark, when you let out a small cry when he started to tease your clit. Your nails raked down his back and left red scratch marks down his back.
You weren’t sure if you were just sensitive from the hot shower, and exhaustion but the mixture of his cock plunging into your warmth and his quick finger movements was just enough to push you over the edge. Your body shaking as your release washed over you, any moans and gasps leaving you were now swallowed up by Wonwoo. His mouth was hot against your lips, tongue eagerly licking the inside of your mouth; his moans turning into soft whines.
You were already snug around him, but when you came it was like you were squeezing the life from him. Wonwoo tried to hold out a little longer, until your hands moved down his body to grab his ass, pushing his hips into you to grind and that was it for him. Letting himself go inside you, filling you until he couldn’t give any more.
Neither of you moved for a moment, his kiss now slowing to a gentle make out and a hand cupping your cheek. The room dim and quiet, letting you both forget that there was a dark world out the confides of your little apartment. When that moment passed, Wonwoo pulled himself out with a sensitive wince and rolled himself off you with a groan.
“You are going to be the death of me.” He muttered, now on his back and pulling you to his side. Giving you enough time to move so you were facing him before you were pressed against his slick skin.
“You’re the one who started it.” You mumbled, still attempting to catch your breath as your eyes closed. Your body is completely relaxed, and exhaustion had finally taken you under.
Barely awake, you said in a sleepy tone, “We need to clean up.”
“No we don’t.” Wonwoo grumbled, sleep taking back over him, turning his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “We need to sleep.”
The excessive knocking started to turn into pounding and finally ripped you from your deep sleep. An annoyed groan left your lips as you rolled onto Wonwoo’s side of the bed, empty and feeling cool against your skin. Showing he had been up and gone for a while.
“Fuck off…” You mumbled, but whoever was at your door was persistent, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Getting up, you stumbled through the room to find clothes since you weren’t going to answer naked. Luckily, you found a pair of shorts and a shirt of Wonwoo’s, and whoever it was now full on pounding at the door. Causing you to exhaustedly yell, “Fucking stop it! I’m coming!”
Padding through the small apartment, you were tempted to grab a knife from the kitchen once you realized who it was. Especially when the pounding turned into some kind of beat since this asshole thought he was clever.
Ripping the door open, you were met with the bane of your existence leaning against the door frame; acting like he didn’t just use your door as his personal beat box. His attention on his cybernetic hand that he currently had out as a claw. To the Shadow District, he was Hoshi, but to you and a small group of people, he was Kwon Soonyoung. Your best friend by force more times than choice at this point.
“Finally. Thought I was going to have to claw this door down.” He mused, turning his sharp eyes on you with his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.
“And if I don’t kill you for it, Wonwoo definitely will.” You snapped, turning from open door to walk to the kitchen. Pushing off the frame, Soonyoung grabbed a plastic bag that was resting at his feet before sauntering into the apartment and closed the door behind him. “It’s too early for this.”
“It’s almost two in the afternoon.” He pointed out, and you shot him a dirty look over your shoulder.
“I worked late last night, you idiot.” You grumbled, and this made him chuckle, retracting his tiger claws so it was normal metal hand. “What are you doing here anyways? Besides pissing me off while the sun is still out.”
“Was able to get my hands one some fresh fruits, like fresh from a farm type. Wanted to share them with one of my bestest friends.” Soonyoung watched as you froze, turning toward him slowly with interest. Your eyes dropped to the plastic bag in his hand filled with strawberries, oranges, and peaches dangling from his normal hand, only for you to look back up at his face. Seeing right through him, and from the look on his face, he knew it too. “Aaaannnddd maybe some credits.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You no longer felt sleepy or even tired anymore, instead you felt a rush of anger through you. You knew that he was using the fruit to attempt to butter you up. “Why didn’t you use the credits you used on the fruit?”
“Didn’t pay for these. I actually called in a favor from a friend. Figured bring an offering to sweeten the passing of credits.”
You groaned in frustration as you snatched the bag from him. He didn’t put up a fight, instead diverting toward the sofa while you moved to the small kitchen to clean and have some of the fruit for breakfast. Frustrated that he’d known you would take the fruit, but he didn’t know you weren’t going to give him a single credit.
“Go away, Soonyoung. Come back around when you’re not wanting something from us.” You told him, waving your hand dismissively in the air. “I told you before, I am not supporting your addiction anymore. Me and Wonwoo are barely making ends meet as it is.”
The blond tsked before he said your name in a slow and condescending tone, one that made your stomach turn uncomfortably, his sharp eyes looking in your direction. Taking in that your hair was still sleep ridden, Wonwoo’s shirt was actually inside out, and your shorts peeking from under just enough to show you rushed to get dressed. Analyzing you and your blatant lie.
“See… you and I both know that is a lie.” He went to say more, but Doodle had distracted him by jumping onto the sofa, meowing, knowing perfectly well that Soonyoung would give her the attention that she was ‘desperate’ for. Reaching out to pet the feline, he finally continued. “If I’m not mistaken, but isn’t your mother still sending you your monthly allowance? With an extra two thousand credits to convince you to leave Wonwoo and come home.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You huffed out, knowing that the only reason your friend was bringing that up was because he was fiending; needing another hit to numb himself like everyone else in this city.
Tears started to sting your eyes, because you hated this side of him. The Soonyoung you once knew wouldn’t do this to you, he would never resort to blackmail, but the fiend version of him would and does with no remorse.
“Oh, we both know you do.” He responded in a calm voice, a wide smile on Soonyoung’s face as he played with Doodle. “What better way to say, ‘fuck you Mom’ than letting me use the credits to buy drugs and you can continue to live with Wonwoo and he can stay blissfully unaware of that little account.”
“Fuck you, Soonyoung.” There was a silence between you, a tense one with the only sound was Doodle’s little chirps. “Get out.”
“I guess, you’re right.” He leaned forward to peck the top of your cat’s head, with her meeting his lips with a soft headbutt. Standing, Soonyoung adjusted his ridiculously baggy pants and his compression shirt. “Wonwoo should be at the docks, right? Him and Gyu doing some recon by helping unload some freight? Maybe I should pay him a bit of a visit, see how him and that deliciously muscular man are doing.” He started toward the door, stopping as he reached for the handle, “Would be such a shame if I happen to let it slip that you’ve been hiding who you were before coming to the Shadow District… or well… ran away to it. I am pretty sure he wouldn’t like knowing the person he loves and trusts isn’t who he thought she was and is hiding a dark secret.”
“You’re a real piece of fucking work, you know that right?”
“I know, one of a kind. No one else like me. So a thousand credits sound good?” Soonyoung then turned around, crossing his arms and leaned against the door. The triumphant smile that graced his lips made your nose scrunch in disgust.
“Not a chance.” You shook your head and the smirk he was wearing started to twitch. “I can give you fifty credits.”
“Now, that isn’t going to work, but I’ll bump it down.” Soonyoung scratched his chin like he was thinking of a new total, before snapping his fingers. “Seven hundred.”
“No. Fifty credits.”
“Listen, I brought you fresh fruit!” He dropped his arms to his sides and stomped his feet childishly, but you didn’t miss the way his cybernetic fingers started to lengthen in claws. “This shit is hard to get.”
“Hard to get fresh fruit, that you didn’t pay for.” You could see the way his eyes were darkening dangerously, but you couldn’t give him the amount he wanted. You didn’t have it, and that account he referenced was one you refused to touch or even acknowledge. “I can do seventy five right now if you leave my fucking apartment.”
“You know you drive a hard bargain.” That smirk was back, and he took a few steps toward you, flexing the now clawed adorned hand. “I’ll take that seventy five, and then I am going to stroll down to those docks.” He held it up when you went to speak, and you closed your mouth. “Now, if you don’t want that, then I will gladly take two hundred credits now and your secret stays safe with me.”
“You’re an asshole.” You answered in defeat, turning away from him to wipe away a stray tear from your cheek and went to find your phone to send the credits. You didn’t want him to see you cry, knowing that this Soonyoung wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for it, nor did you want to see the way he bounced excitedly. “Don’t come back around after this, because I’m not giving you another fucking thing. Just take the credits and leave me alone.”
“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t believe you when you said this, he never did. Hell, you didn’t even believe the words that came out of your mouth. “You and I both know that you can’t live without your best friend.”
“You’re not my best friend.” You told him, your stomach sick as you sent the credits through the thin device. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes to push back any more tears and attempted to calm yourself before you threw a knife at his head. With a slow breath out, you turned to look at the stranger where Soonyoung once stood. “My best friend died the moment he got hooked on that shit. You’re just the scum that came out of the ashes.”
“Ah, haven’t been referred to as a Phoenix before. I think I prefer tigers still.” He was able to hear the hurt in your voice, he was able to see the pain in your eyes, but he didn’t care. He was too excited that he was able to get high on your credits. “Pleasure doing business with you. Let me know how Wonwoo likes the strawberries. Made sure to grab those for him.”
“Just leave.” You looked away from him, your words felt more like a plea then a demand, one that he actually listened to. But only cause he had what he wanted.
You heard the door open, and his heavy boots walk through the threshold, but you didn’t hear the door close.
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” He spoke slowly, his voice still smug, but there was something softer to it. Like for a moment, your best friend was trying to push past the fiend. “Seokmin saw notices on Holiday. Eviction notices.” Your back stiffened at those words, that sick feeling in your stomach turned into acid in your throat, but you didn’t look back at him. Holiday was a street right before the Shadow District. “I think you and I both know what that means.”
You knew perfectly well what that meant.
“Guess you can’t run from your mom or Skyfall forever.” And with that, Soonyoung closed the door behind him. Leaving you to stand there, next to the counter filled with the fruits he brought.
Tainted with blackmail and betrayal, but that was nothing compared to the anger and fear that you were feeling by his parting words. You felt like you were thrown off kilter, your body no longer felt like yours but the intense emotions that coursed through you.
After all these years that you lied to yourself that the Shadow District wouldn’t be touched by the filthy hands of those rich bastards. Convincing yourself that the home you found here with Wonwoo, with your friends, didn’t always have a looming threat at your door. That you could go a lifetime without seeing her.
It had been years since you ran, but it was still not enough time. It was never enough time to stay away.
The frustrated scream that left you didn’t sound like you, it was raw and from somewhere deep inside you, as you angrily swiped the fruit off the counter and onto the ground. Forgetting that you had pulled out a knife to cut them up and sliced your hand.
“Fuck!” You grasped your wrist, blood starting to come out of the cut, more tears breaking through. Sinking to the ground, you let out a wail as your cried. You were in pain, you were hurting deeper than pain, you were scared.
You were naïve to think that anywhere was safe. Safe from her, safe from Skyfall Industries, safe from the suffocating feeling of greed that came to be a constant in this greedy city.
You lied to Wonwoo when he came home that day, told him that you cut yourself slicing up the fruit Soonyoung had dropped off. Worked it in a way that you wanted him to believe that you had bought them from him, refused to say what happened during your former best friend’s visit, but adamant that the cut happened after he left.
You tried not to look at him when his left eye lens flickered as he scanned your body but failed. Allowing him to read your vitals, take any changes in them, but he didn’t question you further despite of what he’d seen. He didn’t even need to scan you though, unable to hide your distress. That something had happened with Soonyoung, and something deadly started to stir.
He could’ve easily leave, find Soonyoung and put a knife to his throat for upsetting you, for making you feel like you needed to lie to him, but he didn’t. Wonwoo was the quick tempered type, and he had no problem punching or stabbing someone instead of talking it out or walk away, especially when it came to you. But Wonwoo also knew that there was some things that he couldn’t resolve with violence.
Soonyoung, unfortunately, was one of those some things. You were too protective over him, no matter how much the fiend hurt you, but he knew that there was more to it. And whatever that fiend had over you, it kept you from cutting him off. It kept you from telling him.
“Earth to Wonwoo,” Vernon spoke up, pulling the older man from his thoughts and turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. The younger man was sitting on a filing cabinet that was in the corner of Jihoon’s office, one arm resting on his knee while his head leaned back against the wall. “I know it sucks down here, but we are talking business.”
“Sorry.” Wonwoo answered with a sigh, his eyes moved toward the other two men in the room. Jihoon was sitting at his desk chair, his attention on the tablet in his hands and not on the rest on the room. Mingyu was leaning against the wall next to the door, and his attention on his best friend, sensing something was up the moment he saw him. “What was the question again?”
“What did you see in the boxes from the dock yesterday?” Jihoon repeated, and a scoff left Vernon when he did. “Mingyu said you saw something in some of the boxes.”
“It wasn’t what I saw, it was what I didn’t see.” Wonwoo could hear Mingyu murmuring an apology for getting it wrong and leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. This made Jihoon finally look at him. “That and where they were going.”
“What you mean you couldn’t see?” It was Vernon who spoke, another scoff leaving him as he looked for a pack of cigarettes in the pockets of his jumpsuit, not caring that he received a dark look. “Thought that hacked ass eye of yours could see through shit. You know through thermal scans or some shit.”
“I am not above putting a knife through your own fucking eye. Make you just like me.” Wonwoo warned, which only earned another cocky laugh. The cybernetic-free punk ass knew that he wasn’t joking or bluffing, but they just didn’t give a shit, making his hand twitch toward the knife that he kept hidden away.
“Just get to it.” Jihoon snapped, shooting his own dark look toward both of them. “Why couldn’t you see?”
“Most the boxes, easy to scan and act like I am verifying cargo, but there was about three or four large ones. Couldn’t get a reading at all.” Adjusting in his seat, Wonwoo continued to speak. “Boxes came up empty, but they were definitely not.”
“Took ten of us just to move one onto the truck.” Mingyu grumbled, sounding annoyed that he had to be reminded of the labor he had to do. “No way we were going to be able to move those with the forklift.”
“Well, where are they taking them?” Vernon asked, while Jihoon looked between the two men before them.
“The Factory.” Mingyu answered. The Factory was a warehouse on the dock, typically a storage unit for parts until they are shipped to facilities to build or specialize in installing them on people.
“Why is that so weird? Everything goes there.” Jihoon sat the tablet down onto his desk to stand, a low grimace sketched over his face, his hand reaching down to massage his leg only to be met with metal. The rest of the group watched in silence as Jihoon schooled his expression and cautiously took steps away from his desk.
“That’s their first stop. The next stop is an address on Holiday. Skyfall Cybernetics Shop, but the address is a set of apartments right now.” This brought an uncomfortable silence over them, one that even Vernon was part of. This was too close to home, and none of them wanted to actually say what it could mean. After a heartbeat of silence, Wonwoo was the one to say it, “This is becoming more than stealing parts.”
“You’re right.” Jihoon nodded, not looking toward anyone as he tried to pace but only manage an awkward limp. Without thinking, Wonwoo’s left eye flickered behind his glasses, scanning his friend and boss to analyze him. Checked for anything different in his vitals.
Jihoon may have been good at keeping himself levelheaded in front of his crew, he never liked showing his worry nor when he was in pain, but he couldn’t hide it away from Wonwoo. And it wasn’t like it was something he typically did, he wouldn’t just scan his friends unless he felt like he needed to, but something told him to do it, and he was right to. Not only was his friend in pain, but he could tell by the increased vitals that there was more than that.
This was more than a simple heist job, this was more than stealing a few parts for a few thousand credits to split. They could easily still go on with the job, focus on the parts on the list and ignore the large boxes since they weren’t what they were looking for. But if Skyfall Industries took the steps to make it where not even scanners could penetrate the boxes, then that possibly meant more security so their usual ways weren’t going to cut it.
It caused the unspoken question hang heavy among the four of them. Was taking this job a good idea after all?
A familiar rhythmic knock broke through the silence that had followed Jihoon’s words, causing the four of them to look toward the opening door. It was Soonyoung, practically skipping into the room with wide eyes, pupils completely blown out, and his skin had a glow to it. His blond hair spiked up, and it was a surprise that the corner of his lips weren’t splitting from the size of his shit eating grin he wore.
The fucking fiend was on a high, and it was obvious to the rest of the people in the room. No scan was needed for this.
“Why hello there gentlemen. Lovely day isn’t it?” He said with a chirpy voice, shooting a smug look toward Wonwoo as he went to close the door. Like he was rubbing something into his face without saying what it was, and that deadly feeling started to stir inside again.
His thoughts went back to when he had come home to you, your hand wrapped in gauze and a few droplets of blood that you missed on the floor. He thought back to how you wouldn’t look at him when you told him that you did it while cutting fruit, the fruit that you ‘bought’ off Soonyoung, and the way your voice was raspy but still full of tears. You made him promise to not go and off the fiend, that he had nothing to do with your hand or your state.
And Wonwoo tried to keep his promise to you, even though he didn’t believe you, because you were so protective over Soonyoung. But that smug look on that mother fucker’s face, while your teary and sad look was burned into his brain, snapped something in him. He was out of his seat before he could stop himself.
A hiss of pain left Soonyoung when Wonwoo slammed him against the door, the doorknob jabbing into his back while a knife was pressed to his throat. Pinning him to the office door and made the three other men yell in surprise.
“You got some fucking nerve showing your face around me right now.” Wonwoo hissed, pressing his sharp knife to Soonyoung’s jugular, more than willing to slice his neck open. “Not after how you left my girl yesterday.”
“Oh that…” Soonyoung sighed dramatically, his cybernetic hand resting on Wonwoo’s arm with the tips of the metal fingers lengthened to sharp claws. A warning from the fiend, but Wonwoo didn’t care. He was seeing so much red that it triggered his fake eye to turn the bright color behind his glasses, and Soonyoung’s smug look turned sadistic. Wonwoo wanted to end him right then and there, ready to watch him bleed out on Jihoon’s office floor. “You’re being so dramatic, all I did was sell her some fruit.”
“You drugged up mother fucker.” The words came out like venom which switched something in Soonyoung, because his blown out eyes flashed and the claws of his hand started to rip the sleeves of his coat. His unserious warning now turning deadly in its own right. Either of them could kill the other right then and there easily.
Neither man would do it though. Wonwoo wouldn’t because he would lose you for good if he did, while there was still shards of the old Soonyoung inside the fiend somewhere that stopped him. Except it didn’t stop them from wanting to, and that was enough to have the other men on them quickly.
Mingyu’s tight grip on Soonyoung’s metal wrist, attempting to loosen his hold on him while Vernon and Jihoon attempted to pull Wonwoo away. Especially the hand that held the knife to the fiend’s throat.
“Let go of him.” Jihoon commanded, while the three men struggled to pull them apart. “Do you think she would be happy with you if you killed him?”
“Yeah, Wonwoo baby.” That smug look was back, but this time there was something sinister and wild to it. He was getting off on this, and it only made Wonwoo’s grip tighten on his knife. “Be a good boy and listen to Jihoonie. Don’t want your princess unhappy with you, do you?”
“Soonyoung shut up, or we will let him kill you and help him lie about what happened to you.” Jihoon scowled, then leaned closer toward Wonwoo. His voice softer in hopes that will help defuse the situation. “Come on, he’s trying to get you to do something stupid. He’s not worth it.”
“Wonwoo…” Mingyu also tried to reason with him, his dark eyes on the older man and were filled with concern.
After a moment, Wonwoo finally pulled the knife away and stepping back while Soonyoung released his grip. The metal claws retracting back to fingers, while his human hand went to his neck to run over the skin where the knife was pressed into him, checking to see if blood was drawn. Only to be disappointed to find that Wonwoo didn’t leave any nicks on him, unable to find a reason to villainize him.
“You should thank her.” Wonwoo told the fiend flatly, more distance created as the two youngest of the group stepped between them. Vernon’s eyes on Soonyoung and Mingyu’s on Wonwoo, both wearing unsure looks on their faces. Neither trusted the fiend or Wonwoo to go back after each other. “If it wasn’t for her, I would have killed you long ago.”
“How generous of you.” Soonyoung was dry with his words, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. The claws were completely put away, but his sharp eyes were still wild and shining with dare. Daring Wonwoo to come at him again.
“Enough.” Jihoon demanded, a hiss of pain followed when he took unsteady steps back from the situation. With a hand planted on the desk, the shorter man shifted on his feet to take pressure of his cybernetic leg. “What are you doing here, Soonyoung? We’re not interested in your bullshit today.”
“Jihoonie. My baby, the love of my life, the sparkle to my eye…”
“I am none of those things to you.” Jihoon sneered while Soonyoung clutched his chest as he changed the sweet talk to hurt.
“…You wound my heart. You wound my soul.” Soonyoung let out an over exaggerated wail, and the rest of the men in the room rolled their eyes. When he wasn’t going to get any other reaction out of them, Soonyoung just sighed and crossed his arms. “I came by just to see my favorite boytoy…”
“Not your boytoy.”
“…But I couldn’t help but overhear when opening the door that you guys were talking about Holiday.” The way the fiend’s lip twitched into a smirk, and it was clear that he found a way to take advantage for his own gain. “I think I may have some information that may benefit you.”
“I’m not paying you shit for whatever you have.” Jihoon saw right through him, just like the rest did. Wonwoo found his place back in his chair, more slouched as he glared at the fiend while the two younger went back to their places in the office. Though Mingyu was standing closer toward Soonyoung, ready to grab him if needed. “I don’t have some promise to not kill you going, so you can either tell me, or I’ll shoot you in the shin.”
“That’s one way to get me on my knees for you baby, but for a few credits, I’ll do it without the bullet.” He went to take a step further into the office, but with a sharp nod from Jihoon, he was stopped by Mingyu. Keeping him by the door and acted as the line in the sand.
“Just get with it.” It was Vernon who spoke, perched back on the filing cabinet, and sounding just as fed up the rest of them. “You’re not going to extort us like you do others. With us, aside from wiped boy over here,” He smirked when he earned a dirty look and a finger from Wonwoo, “you’ll either tell us, you keep your mouth shut, or the next parts you get will not be cosmetic.”
“Whatever you say, pretty boy.” Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine…I’ll tell you…”
Growing up, you’d always heard about the Shadow District from the people around you. To the adults in your life, it was seen as a cesspool of filth and crime. They viewed the people who resided there as criminals and low life individuals with no hope or place in their future society. The area was supposedly so bad that not even your mother or the rest of the elites at Skyfall wanted to set foot in or even want to touch.
They viewed it as a lost cause and ordered others around your age to stay away.
To your peers, they had shared the same view as the adults, that only criminals and low lives lived there but that didn’t stop many of them from venturing over. Mostly to buy the drugs that were offer, addicting and fun party favors to take to the parties they would throw in their empty penthouse apartments, try to sneak into the roughest bars and clubs, or whatever else teens did to cause problems. They saw going into the district as a challenge, when really all it was were cries of attention that their parents would never give.
To Soonyoung, the boy whose mom raised you more than your own mother did, it was home. He was the only person you knew that would talk about the Shadow District in a positive light, making sure you knew that was still beauty beyond the stories that others would tell you. That deep past the crime and poverty, it had a community stronger than anywhere else in the city.
People weren’t fake as the ones in West Hills Parkway where you grew up, or any other rich area in Huimang. Good but guarded people, even if many lost their way in their fight to survive because of the elites running the rest of the city. They were all more than just stolen cybernetics, drugs that would numb them enough to live another day or had to break laws to make ends meet.
He would always talk about taking you there, so he could show you that beauty behind the ugly. Even joking that he was sure you would find a sense of belonging there instead of the world you grew up in and was expected to assimilate to what everyone else expected you to be.
Because in the Shadow District, no one expected you to behave a certain way, no one expected you to be perfect there. No one cared enough, because they all had their own shit to worry about. There you could be anyone you wanted, disappear and become a completely different person than who you were. It was a reality you dreamt to be in, no matter how dark it was, and at one point those jokes stopped being just jokes.
So, the first time Soonyoung took you there, you had finally ran away from your old life and a version of you that wasn’t real. You ran away from the expectations that were laid before you, the evils that were behind the closed doors of Skyfall, left behind a last name that never felt was yours, and changing yourself to someone different.
You became someone else, just another soul trying to survive like everyone else around you.
It hadn’t been easy by any means. You weren’t proud of some of the things that you did along the way, having to adapt and change to survive, but you were happier. Eventually you met Wonwoo, someone who wasn’t meant to be anything more than a dick to ride and a bed to sleep in for the night and fell in love. It was still hard, but together you made it work with him giving you love and shelter while you returned that love and made that shelter a place you both could call home.
You lost a lot over the years for your choices, family and friends, but you also gained just as many. You were free to be who you were and free from your mother’s control, her demands. You were struggling, but you were happy.
But that all came crashing down after Soonyoung’s recent visit, pulling out that flicker of fear you hid away by everything else. The fear that Skyfall would decide that the Shadow District and its real estate was worth their attention. Now, you had to face the reality.
The reality that your past is catching up to you, the reality that Wonwoo will learn of the who you used to be and ran from. Find out that you’ve lied to him for so long. It distracted you, it clouded your thoughts, made you keep looking over your shoulder as you walked to work and was late. The night didn’t get any better either.
Chan snapped his fingers to bring you out of your thoughts, bringing back to Cherries’ busy bar and the full tray of drinks waiting for one of your tables. He raised his brow to you, silently questioning where your head was that night, and all you could do was force a smile at him. It was meant to be your way of telling him you were fine, but your lips felt tight over your teeth. You could only hope that he bought it or didn’t care enough to believe it.
The only response you got from Chan was a shrug, moving away from you to tend to the other customers and servers waiting for their drinks. You picked up the full tray of drinks and carefully balanced them as you made your way through the crowded club. Easily maneuvering through the groups of people standing together, too focused on not bumping into anyone and get to the table with their order, so you weren’t paying attention to the faces of the people around you.
So when a hand reached out and caught you by the hip, it startled you and nearly caused you to drop the tray. Rebalancing yourself, you twisted your head where the hand that held onto you came from, a frown playing over your features. The owner was a smug business type at one of the booths, sleek expensive clothes, hair styled back that people like to see as ‘professional’, and the cybernetics weren’t for because he needed it. They purely for aesthetic and status purposes.
Especially with the type of metal that was used, the highest of qualities that was buffed to shine. It would have looked nice with the flashing lights hitting it, had it been on anyone else and they didn’t touch you like you were a toy to grab. With a jerk of your hips, you pulled yourself away from his touch as a sickening feeling crept up you from where his hand was. Like you just touched poison.
“I will be right back with you.” You yelled over the music, taking a step away from the table to your destination when they spoke your name. You froze on the spot.
It wasn’t because he called you by your first name, most of the patrons here knew it. It was the last name. Your old last name. Your mother’s last name.
“It’s you isn’t it?” He had stood from his seat, you felt him take a step toward you and reach for you again.
“No.” You responded, shooting him a dirty look and pushed forward through the crowd. Blood rushed through your ears, not liking that he still had that smug look on his face, a mixture of anger and panic coursing through you.
You don’t recognize him, it had been so long since you’d seen anyone from your past that they all became nothing but blur of faces and metals, so you couldn’t think of his name or what family he was from. Except he recognized you. You were cybernetic free and looked nearly the same as you did when you ran, just older, more mature, and signs of you learning to survive. He recognized you and called you out by your old name.
As you got closer to the table you were serving, you decided that you were going to circle back to the bar from the other side of the club and get one of the other girls to help him and his table. Maybe even avoid this side for the rest of the night.
It all happened quickly after that. You were so lost in your plans that you missed a girl taking a step back, and you collided right into her. The tray full of drinks flew through the air, splashing the people sitting at the table and everyone standing around them while you landed on the ground with a thud.
The girl who had tripped you was quick to help you up, apologizing to you as you apologized profusely to the people at the table. Your hands moved quickly to grab all the spilled glasses and rush to the bar to get towels from Chan; who was already had a stack of small of them on the bar to help clean up. His expression unreadable, with a new set of glasses already out so he could remake their drinks.
You cleaned up the mess the best you could and was able to get the new drinks to them, while Seungkwan, your manager, tried to placate one of the girls in the group. She was the only one who didn’t get hit with alcohol, but she made a fuss and complained to him about you. Not giving a single damn if she was being truthful or that you were still standing there.
“Go get some air,” Seungkwan spoke to you at one point, cutting off the girl to do so and she looked like she was ready to explode. “I will talk to you when I am done here.”
With a solemn nod, you turned to head to the back of the club. With a glance toward the bar, you saw Chan give you a sympathetic look but was quick to return back to his job, so he wasn’t joining you in getting yelled at. You couldn’t blame him for that, because you didn’t want to be in this position either.
The back of the club was a private alley, one that was fenced off by Cherries’ owner Seungcheol so that not only was there no issues with inventory deliveries, but so his staff had somewhere to hide away. It stopped them from being harassed when they would go smoke or be able to take a breather away from a busy night. It was the only club in the area that did this, and you were grateful that you worked there and not anywhere else.
The cool night air felt like a relief to your hot and sweat covered skin, instantly relaxing you as you breathed in the smell of rain and a permanent smell of oil. It grounded you, giving you the chance to center yourself and remind yourself that you were better than this.
The sound of the back door opening caused you to twist around as Seungkwan walked out with a cigarette in his hand. Leaning against the wall, he took his time lighting the wrapped tobacco and let the heavy door shut before speaking.
“You going to tell me what happened in there?” He asked, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air before his tongue pressed against his cheek, and the brief respite you had was taken away. “I had to comp two rounds of drinks just now, and not to mention, Chan has been saying you been acting strange all night.” He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowed. “Are you on something?”
“What? No, of course not.” You answered tensely, not liking that he accused you of that. “I just have a lot on my mind. I wasn’t paying attention as well as I should have.” Looking down at your hands, purposely leaving out your encounter with the nameless guy. No one here knew you by that name, and you couldn’t afford it getting out. “I’m sorry. I will do better.”
There was a beat of silence, and you cast your gaze nervously up toward Seungkwan, only to see his eyes were on his cigarette and not you, his expression hard to read. Which made your stomach churn uncomfortably since your manager was an expressive man, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He made sure that he said what was on his mind, even if it got him in trouble or hurt someone’s feelings.
“Listen…” He finally spoke as he blew out another cloud of smoke then licked his lips. “The first rule at Cherries is plain and simple, whatever shit you have going on in your life is left at the door. You’re here to work, not fucking worry about shit that has nothing to do with this place.”
“I know, Kwan. I am…”
“Sorry. Yeah, I know. You guys always are.” A scoff left him as he said this, taking a final drag of his cigarette then dropped it into a small rain puddle next to him. “You’re paying for all the drinks I had to comp tonight, Chan's tallying it all up now and will be taking it from your tips and earnings tonight.”
Hearing these words made you feel sick, that churning turned sour and felt like bile was already creeping up. After Soonyoung’s blackmail, you couldn’t have this happen since those credits you just lost was needed to recover that loss and for rent. You couldn’t afford to lose another credit, not when you weren’t sure what the payoff was for the job Jihoon had Wonwoo doing.
And you refused to touch that account your mother had for you.
“Understood.” You told him after a long moment of silence on your part, forced to accept this fate of yours. There was no point in arguing with Seungkwan without giving too much away, without giving yourself away. You were in a lose/lose situation here.
“I know that it seems unfair, but you got lucky here since we have fired others for less.” Seungkwan went to grab the door handle to go back inside, before stopping and looking at you with a resigned expression. “Guess is pays that Cheol has a soft spot for Wonwoo, or you wouldn’t just be paying for those drinks, you’d be looking for another job. Take a few minutes to get your head right and then get back in here. We need you tonight, or I would’ve sent your ass home.”
With that, he disappeared through the large metal door. His words echoed through your brain, the contempt he had when he mentioned your boyfriend’s name and his pull with the Cherries’ owner. And by proxy you as well.
You took that few minutes before returning to your job and managed to finish the night with no further mistakes, but you were not able to push your thoughts away. After what happened that night, that nameless guy who knew you by your old name, and Skyfall Industries finally deciding that the Shadow District was worthy for their development, you couldn’t ignore the crushing realization that the two worlds you knew were colliding.
It was early in the morning when you got home and was surprised to see Wonwoo already up and in the kitchen making coffee. With his hair sticking up in different directions, one eye barely open while the other stayed shut, his face still had the indents of his pillow, and sleep still heavy on him. He wasn't in anything more than a pair of dark grey boxers, giving you a perfect view of the rest of his body.
A lean muscular frame with naturally broad shoulders, long legs, and strong arms that was normally hidden away by dark heavy clothes due to the scars that littered on different places on his body. Old wounds from fights he got into over the years, from the accident that caused him to lose his left eye, and from other stupid shit he did. You were seeing one of the barest version of him, a version that only you see, and it was your favorite.
When he looked at you, it made your heart squeeze when a sleepy smile broke across his lips, and a hand reach out to you. One that you reached for without hesitation, your body moving without needing to think too much about it, just ready to be in his presence.
"Hey baby." His voice was rough, his fingers interlocking with yours to pull you into him, before his lips found the top of your head. Pressing them against your hair, before breathing you in. "You smell good."
"I smell gross." You giggle softly, tilting your head so that his lips could find yours. The soft press of his lips helped loosen some of the tension that was clinging to you, but not enough to help you forget. You still had to tell him about that you lose money instead of bringing any home.
"I don't think so." He shook his head, before pressed another kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, his brows then furrowed when he saw your face. "What's wrong? Did something happen at work?"
"Just had a shitty night. Spilled a tray of alcohol all over a table full of people, and Seungkwan was not happy because he had to comp two rounds of drinks." You answered with a small voice and attempted to turn away from him but one of his hands grasped your face to stop you. It hurt to see that smile gone, and concern shine through his eye. "I ended up having to pay for the drinks that we lost today and was told I am lucky that I wasn’t fired." You let out a shaky sigh, "We needed those credits."
You earned silence from your boyfriend, the frown deepened and his eye stayed on you. The sleep that was still clinging to him when you walked in gone, with only the physical signs left. The arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist had tightened, pressing you more against his near bare frame, while the hand on your face held you there. His expression was dark, and it made you slightly nervous.
"I'm sorry…" Your voice sounded small, and this earned a dark laugh from Wonwoo, his thumb brushing against your cheek affectionately. "I'll talk to Seungcheol when he's in next and see if I can get an extra shift to make up for what I lost today."
"Don't worry about it. Shit happens." Wonwoo shook his head, though his expression didn’t changed and his tone was sharper. You knew that he was pissed with you, it wasn't hard to read him when he was like this, but he was holding himself back.
A fight wasn’t something either of you needed, and it left a heavy tension between you both. You avoided his gaze that was searching your face, threatening to pull your secrets that now lingered under the surface than buried deep without the help of his eye. With one look, he would know everything you hid from him, and you would lose everything. You couldn’t have that.
“I love you.” You finally said after a long beat of silence, your fingers brushing against the back of the hand that held your face as you pressed yourself against him. Your eyes flicked up toward his, wanting to be sure that he saw the tip of your tongue run over your bottom lip before you leaned forward to kiss the curve of his collarbone.
“I love you too, but what’s going on? You haven’t—fuck.” A soft groan left him when your mouth moved to his neck, kissing the kiss as your free hand moved down between you. Your hand slid over the fabric of his underwear, cupping his hardened cock through the thin material.
You weren't proud of what you were doing, but it was the only way to distract him. You weren't ready for it all to come out. You weren't ready for him to walk away and hate you.
"Everything is fine, don’t worry." You lied, grateful that he didn't have his left eye in, or he would’ve seen right through you, and used it to your advantage, pulling from his hold to move your mouth over his chest. You earned a moan from him when your teeth grazed his skin, massaging the twitching bulge with your hand, and gave the thick member a gentle squeeze.
"Don't… ah… think I don't know what you're doing." Wonwoo managed to get out with effort, his right eye watching as you slipped down onto your knees. Not caring that you were still in the deep red dress that you had worn that night for work, because you were on a mission. You left a reminder of yourself on his hip, fingers hooking the band of his underwear to pull down. Freeing his cock from its confides.
You chose to not respond, your thighs pressed together at the sight of him, so easily ready for you. His fingers brushed against your hairline, and you looked up to him while your own wrapped around his length, catching the way his face contorted in pleasure when you tentatively stroked him. Mouth slightly opened, with breathy moans escaped while he tried to keep his one eye open to take in the way you looked for him.
Wonwoo went to speak you name in a stern voice, but it was lost when your mouth brushed the tip of his cock before planting an open mouth kiss on it. Pulling back, you gathered some spit in your mouth to dribble it onto his length, coating it with your hand so it easier to stroke what you couldn't fit into your mouth.
The hand that had been brushing your hairline now was going to grip at your hair when you finally took him between your lips, taking nearly half of him in one go and ignored the need to gag when it hit the back of your throat. Wonwoo's head dropped back, no longer concerned over anything exchanged between the two of you, already lost in you. Too lost in the wet heat of your mouth and your tongue pressed against his underneath.
Your hand moved in sync of your mouth, at a pace that he liked, and took him as far down your throat as you could go. It left your boyfriend a mess before you, his grip on your hair tightened but wouldn't take control. The sight of him from this angle made you clench around nothing, your already wet underwear stick to your cunt uncomfortably. To relief the feeling, you slipped a free hand between your thighs.
The feeling of your touch over the covered heat caused you do a quick inhale through your nose that was followed by a whimper. The sound made Wonwoo's head to snap forward, prying open his eye to take in the sight of you. Your mouth stretched over his cock, lips red, and eyes glossed over. Your red dress pushed up your hips and giving him view of one of your hands between your legs, touching yourself while you pleasured him.
The sight made him twitch in your mouth, and found himself quickly near the edge, but Wonwoo was a greedy man. He wanted his as well as yours and watching as you touched yourself as you worked to give him his own was not enough. He needed to feel it himself, he felt like a fiend needing their fix.
With a firm tug of your hair, Wonwoo pulled you off his cock, a groan left his lips when he saw a string of spit trail from your mouth to his cock.
"Get up." He commanded, releasing your hair to help you stand. His own hands rough as he moved you how he wanted you, and you let him. Loving the way he would handle you and took control.
The smell of coffee and sex filled the small apartment as you rested your arms onto the kitchen counter while Wonwoo took his place behind you. He pushed the dress up so that it was now at your waist, and your ruined underwear pulled down. The cook air of the apartment had sent shivers through you when it meat your wet head, leaving you to be the one whimpering.
"Wonwoo…" You weren't sure what you were going to say after this, his name felt right on your tongue in that moment. Especially when you felt the thick head of his cock tease your wet slit, catching your opening just right and you attempted to push your hips back. "Please."
"You know, I have to leave soon…" The words were slightly muffled, Wonwoo's mouth pressed against your shoulder. He continued to tease you, knowing that it would make you lose your mind. "I am supposed to meet Vernon out on the dock today." You found it funny that he said this while he took his time, wording it like it's your fault. It was, but you only intended to suck him off. "Good thing that fucking prick is always late."
You went to respond, only for your mouth to drop when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and filled you completely in one thrust. It made your eyes roll, the stretch was enough to numb your own mind of everything that was playing in it. This may have started to distract him, but the way he filled you and the way his body enveloped you, maybe you needed this yourself.
Wonwoo didn't stay still too long, pulling back until he was only half out, before snapping his hips forward. The force of the thrust jerked you into the counter, causing your grip to tighten on the counter’s edge to steady yourself. A soft cry left you as you attempted to meet his thrusts but his grip on your hips stopped you. It left you to take what he gave you.
His breath hot against your shoulder as he fucked you in the middle of your shared kitchen, each thrust felt rougher than the last. Filling the apartment with the sounds of skin slapping, the moans that left you both, and the slick sounds of his cock plunging into your cunt. Every time you squeezed around him a string of curses left him, loosening his grip on your hips enough to adjust and pulled you to an upright position.
Your back pressed against his chest, while his mouth was on your neck, running his tongue over the sweat that was starting to collect from your activities. His hands roamed your body as one of your own reached back to grab his hair, trying to find an anchor at the new angle of his thrusts. No longer was he the only mess in this, you were too.
"Wonwoo." You whimpered out his name, with tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling your release almost within reach. Slipping a hand between your legs, you started to desperately rubbing your clit to help him push you over.
Your release hit you harder than you expected, your knees nearly buckled and was more than grateful that you were being held up in that moment. Wonwoo's release quickly followed with a low groan in your ear, and kept you anchored against him. Your breathing labored as you came down from your highs.
Dropping your head back against his shoulder, your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your temple.
"Don't worry too much about the money right now," He murmured against your skin, pulling out of you after a few moments and turned you to face him. Skin flushed, sweat falling from his brow, breathing came out in slight pants, as he looked at you with one eye. "This job that Jihoon is having us do will bring in a decent amount of credits each and bring more parts to the district." He smiled softly. "It'll be enough to keep us comfortable for a while, and maybe even enough to get you, me, and Doodle out of the city. Start over somewhere new."
It was something he always said when Jihoon had him do a job, it was a promise that he kept trying to speak into fruition. It would bring you hope every time he would say it, but this time, it only brought back that uncomfortable twist in your stomach.
“I don’t see why we’re still trying to do this job.” Vernon muttered, blowing smoke from his cigarette, and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at the dock with Wonwoo. The two had been tasked to stake out the Factory and report back to Jihoon, “Look at the fucking place. Covered in guards that look more like cyborgs than human. What the fuck do they have that needs that much security?”
“Whatever was in those boxes.” Wonwoo answered, declining the pack of cigarettes the younger had offered him. He was tempted, but he didn’t want to pull his mask down as his eyes stayed trained on the building. His eye flickered every so often as he took photos of the large warehouse and the guards that patrolled it, while making sure to notes any patterns he caught. “Jihoon wants us to get photos and videos of everything.”
“Better be so that he can demand more credits if they really want us to do this.” Vernon scoffed as a set of cars pulled up to the Factory’s entrance. Sleek vehicles that screamed status and money. “Hazard pay or whatever the fuck it’s called.”
“That and he’s brought the Angel in to help. If these guards are more parts than human, then we’ll need his help and insight on this.”
“We’re definitely fucked if he had to bring that asshole in.” Vernon grumbled as he pulled his beanie further onto his head and Wonwoo let out a huff of a laugh. They watched one of the car doors open so a woman could get out.
She was older, dark red suit, hair perfectly styled, and a heavy aura of power that clung to her like a second skin. It was clear she was someone important as she was greeted by one of the guards, something that he made sure to note. Then she briefly looked in their direction, and Wonwoo felt a sudden familiarity to her.
The woman was then joined by two more men from the other car, all talking with the guard before making their way into the building. Not before Wonwoo’s eye was able to zoom in and get some photos of all of them. Included in them was a good shot of the woman’s face, and it was then he started to realize that she looked like you, but an older version. There was subtle differences, but it was like he was seeing you over twenty years in the future.
“That woman looks like Y/N.” Vernon pointed out, not looking in Wonwoo’s direction to see that he was having a moment himself. “But like older, richer, and probably a bigger bitch.” The older man shot him a look that Vernon caught. “What? I ain’t saying she’s a bitch all the time, but the girl bites.”
“Don’t I know it.” Wonwoo answered, the photo of the woman still on the screen of his eye. Analyzing her features and matching them to you with something unsettling in his stomach. He had known you weren’t a native to the Shadow District when he met you, but he remembered you telling him that you had no family and the closest to family you had was Soonyoung.
He didn’t have a reason to not believe you, it was just sex. It wasn’t important at the time, and the subject of your family had been a sore spot for you. Now looking at this woman, her likeness to you, it made him wonder if you had lied to him.
“How much longer do we have to be here?” Vernon’s bored tone tore Wonwoo from his thoughts, as well as his attention from the building to look in his direction to see he had lit another cigarette.
“I’m sorry, but do you have some other plans that you need to get to?” The words came out harsher than he intended, which earned a sneer from Vernon. “You haven’t shut the fuck up since we got here.”
“Well seeing as this shit keeps getting more complicated, not to mention the looming reality that Skyfall is kicking people out of their homes for whatever ‘redevelopment’ bullshit they have going on. I would say that my bitching and lack of wanting to be on a fucking suicide mission is reasonable.” Vernon waved his hand toward Wonwoo. “I honestly don’t see what this is supposed to accomplish having us fucking sit here? This place fucking stinks of fish and oil, and all that’s going on is you’re taking pictures with that fuck ass eye of yours.” The laugh that left him was bitter. “This surveillance we are doing isn’t going to do shit for us when those fucking things are guarding this shit.”
“Jihoon isn’t holding a gun to your head to do this, you know that right? You don’t have to be part of this.”
“Nah, I rather get the credits.” This answer made Wonwoo roll his eyes, before shaking his head. “I am going to take off though. This shit doesn’t need both of us.” Vernon then pushed off the set of boxes they’d been perched on since early that morning and gave him a nod. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but you annoy the shit out of me, so bye.”
“Yeah, go fuck yourself.” Despite the harsh words, the two did a weird handshake before Vernon was gone. Leaving Wonwoo to finish getting a few more shots and videos, and when he looked back to the building, he caught the woman had excited to go back to her car. As if she was able to feel his eyes on her, she looked in his direction and made eye contact with him.
Wonwoo had his face hidden pretty well, with a mask covering most of his face and his glasses covering the other half. His beanie and thick hood covered his hair, so she had no idea what he looked like, but it didn’t feel that way with the way she looked at him. Like she knew exactly who he was.
He didn’t look away either, taking several more photos of her with his eyes; ones of her head on. No longer caring what he was there for as the realization that she was someone to you, and from the similarities, family, hit him hard.
She then smirked at him before she slipped into the back of the car, letting the driver close the door behind her. Wonwoo didn’t move, catching images of the plates of as the vehicle left the docks.
Several blocks from the docks, you couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried. After sex with Wonwoo didn’t work, you tried to take a hot shower, drank some tea that you were saving, read, laid in silence, laid with a window open so you could hear the street below, but sleep still didn’t happen. You ended up giving up and found yourself on the sofa, wrapped up in your boyfriend’s clothes that smelled like him, and Doodle laid on your lap purring softly.
The comforting feeling of his Wonwoo’s clothes, his smell, and the soft purrs of your pet grounded you, but it didn’t settle anything. You weren’t sure if you wanted to scream and cry in despair and worry or throw and punch things in anger and rage. Nor were you sure where to direct it all.
At life. At your mother and Skyfall Industries. Or at yourself for making this worse by keeping this secret from Wonwoo as long as you did.
The knock at the door and Doodle rushing off the sofa in a panic startled you. The feline stopped once one the floor to look at the door, her eyes wide and pupils dilated in fear before disappearing when another knock came. Her reaction was unusual and didn’t sit right with you as you slipped off the sofa.
When you reached the door, you cautiously looked through the peephole to see who was there, and your mouth went dry. Standing there was a woman with an annoyed and mildly disgusted look on her face and looked like she would rather be anywhere else. The sight of her stirred emotions that you remembered feeling every day growing up.
“I would recommend opening up.” She sighed as she adjusted her expensive designer bag onto her other arm. “I know you are there, and this is no way to treat your mother after all these years.” You didn’t move, or say anything in response, that earned another sigh from her as she spoke your name. “I think it would be wise to open this door, or I will have my men pick up that boyfriend of yours for sniffing around the Factory.”
She knew that would get what she wanted when you ripped open the door with a snarl to your lips.
“You touch him, and I will kill you without a second though.” You seethed to your uncaring mother, who just laughed and shook her head. “What do you want?”
“I wasn’t going to be in the area and pass up a chance to see my daughter.” She pushed past you, her shoulder bumping against yours while she took in the sight of the small apartment. Her eyes moved from the old furniture to the run down cat tree in one corner of the living room, then to the small kitchen that had a few dishes in the sink before they landed on you. The look on her face the same judgmental one that you knew all too well. “I can see that you are putting your monthly allowance to good use.”
“We both know I don’t touch those credits. I don’t need them.”
“Oh, I am aware and sure you don’t.” She waved you off, stopping herself from setting her bag down at the sight of Doodle’s cat hair. “This place screams it.”
“You’re not welcomed here.” You crossed your arms as you said this to her, trying to not visibly flinch when her sharp gaze turned on you. A look that reduced you back to that child she never thought was good enough. “Not in the Shadow District, and sure as hell not in my apartment.”
“Skyfall Industries owns the entire city, foolish girl. And as a member of the board of directors, I am welcome wherever I so please. And that includes…” Your mother then gestured toward the apartment, gold cybernetic metal shining in the low light of your apartment. “…your apartment.”
“Get the fuck out.” You snapped right before her hand connected with your cheek and your head jerked to the side. The metal on her hand sliced your cheek deep, drawing blood and a bruise was quick to follow.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” The older woman hissed, her anger turning palatable when you didn’t move for a moment. Your eyes closed as you slowly breathed through your nose, trying to control the familiar shake that would come with this. That anger and fear toward this woman mixing inside you.
Fear tried to reduce you back to that girl that she once controlled near perfectly, and the anger reminded you of the person you had to become because of that control.
“Why are you even here?” You asked coldly. The question was simple as you turned to look at her again, your hand slow to pull the hair that was stuck to the blood on your face. “Thought no one wanted to touch the Shadow District. It didn’t fit your project model for a perfect city. Needing a place to house the lower classes that would bring you your precious cybernetics.”
“You are such a stupid child.” She didn’t seem to care that your expression was dark and cold, or that you refused to wipe away the blood from your cut cheek. A dark bruise quickly formed around it from the force of the slap. Your fists clenched, with your anger started to take over and you had to fight to contain it. “It was always in the plan, it was always going to be redeveloped, but considering that I’m a generous mother…”
“To who?” You asked, your words venom, but she ignored you.
“I managed to keep the project at bay so you could have your little rebellious phase, let you playhouse with this one eye criminal before you finally came home and this place is bulldozed to the ground.” It was then that she reached out and cupped the cheek that she didn’t strike, a soft smile playing over her lips. It was meant to be loving, and if you were still that little girl, you’d be tricked by it like always. “I held it off as long as I could but not only is this disgusting stain on the city getting the makeover it desperately needs. I finally can bring you back home.”
“Had it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to go back? That my real phase was trying to be that perfect model child for you all those years, willing to do anything to earn your love, or your approval.” Your words caused that fake smile to crack, her hand dropping when you recoiled from her touch. “I am home, mom. This is my home, and that one eyed criminal is my family and have been for years. We actually love each other.”
“He loves the lie that you fed him.” She responded, making you look at her in shock and confusion. “You think I don’t know? You don’t think that I don’t know that you been lying to him about who you are and where you came from? Buried me with your father.”
“Don’t you dare bring Dad into this.”
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, or act like this life is so much better when it’s built on a lie.” Your mother smile then turned dangerous, and that left you rooted to the spot. “I thought I taught you better than this and actually feel bad for the pathetic fool.”
You watched as she opened a purse and pulled out an envelope. You knew what was inside it, an eviction notice.
“It’s time to end this foolishness and come back home. Your position is still waiting for you at Skyfall, and I have a lovely gentleman who is willing to look passed the… things you did while out here.” Her voice was smug as you took the envelope from her and she gestured to the apartment then to your appearance. Wonwoo’s clothes, hair a mess, dark circles under your eyes, and the bruise she gave you. Your hand was still wrapped from when you cut it and trembled holding the envelope. “I mean, it’ll be the only place you will have to go in thirty days. Which is more than what the rest of these people are being given.”
“You’re not getting the Shadow District.” You told her with confidence. The laugh that left her would have left you terrified years ago, but now it only fueled the anger inside you. “We won’t let you.”
“Who is this we? You? Your boyfriend and that little gang he’s part of? That fiend that fed your head with all that nonsense?” Smoothing out her suit, your mother regarded you. “You don’t have a choice in this matter. It’s time to wake up and face reality, stupid girl. Your time for fun is up.”
“We aren’t going down without a fight.”
“Of course you will.” Her shoulder hit yours as she passed and made her way toward the apartment door. “It’s evitable. Just like your place at Skyfall with me.”
“I rather die than go back to any kind of life with you.” You yelled as your turned toward her and the door, only for your whole body to freeze. Because standing at the doorway was Wonwoo. His face was still covered so you could not see his expression, but by his posture, he had heard it all.
“Looks like I should be expecting you back sooner.” Her satisfactory tone in her voice made you feel sick and that anger building turned to deep rage.
You lunged toward her, a high pitch angry cry ripping through you, but Wonwoo was already there to pull you back. Holding you to him as you thrashed in his arms, wanting to wrap your hands around your mother’s throat.
With a final look of satisfaction, your mother clothes the door behind her. Leaving you to continue to struggle to free yourself from your boyfriend’s arms, the tears that had been burning behind your eyes finally broke through.
Your mother was sorely mistaken if she thought she could snap her fingers and you would fall in line easily. You weren’t the same person as you were all those years ago, and you weren’t going to leave Wonwoo or the life you had.
And you sure as hell won’t let them take the Shadow District.
quick rant from my study sesh. i have zero sympathy for people who find happiness in someone else's misery. bitches who take pleasure in other people's suffering have a very special place in hell.
i could never understand why people cheat. and some bitches willingly took away someone's happiness with such a lowly thinking (sometimes i can't support all women cuz they be stupid af)
Please try to share our story and speak about our suffering. 🥹💔
Over the past few days, I asked for your help to cover Eid expenses and to buy medication for my parents. Yesterday, we experienced a very nearby airstrike that caused significant damage, including damage to our tent.
We are living with fear every moment. Every minute feels uncertain, and the war has never truly ended. The situation continues to worsen, and I could lose my life at any moment.Please do not forget my family and loved ones. Any support you can provide, even to help us repair the damage, would mean so much to us. We urgently need your help.These are some photos showing the damage and the area that was bombed. Please support and help us in any way you can. We need everything.😭💔
My name is Ayaa from Gaza city, I am a children’s teacher, 24 years old, living with my parents and siblings. We all used to live a peacefu
You can watch a wider video of the area through this link.Click here
Please try to share our story and speak about our suffering. 🥹💔
SUMMARY: You can tolerate a lot. You don’t care when someone messes up your documents or when your situationship ghosts you after two dates or when your manager is drowning your work in red ink. It was annoying, but survivable. If someone steals your lunch, especially the one you woke up early to make for yourself, that's where you draw the line. No one is hot enough to be forgiven for food theft. Not even the annoyingly calm, morally upright, infuriatingly handsome attorney from the legal department. And you’re about to catch him.
add tags❦︎: attorney! wonwoo, reader is in pr team, strangers to lovers, food puns (intended), wonwoo is kinda of an asshole here, minghao side quest, booseoksoon mentioned ft. mingyu, jeonghan you piece of shit, crackfic, dom!wonwoo, implied inexperienced reader, happy ending aye.
a/n: i'd like to think that im creative. also pls don't play with your food guys, inspired by one of the indie VN games i played.
No one is hot enough to be forgiven for stealing food.
And you’re about to catch that rat in action.
There’s nothing more infuriating than someone eating your lunch, especially when you made it that morning. With your own groceries. Your own money and your own time.
Your blood, sweat, and tears.
Oh, you’re about to be devastatingly mad. You want to throw the trash bin across the pantry, curse at the manager, maybe even consider resigning on the spot.
But did you?
Obviously not. Moment of weakness, as we speak.
Two hours earlier.
…
Work-life balance? Don’t know her.
Your life had been mundane as usual, and honestly, you didn’t mind that. You just wished your corporate life would stop trying to actively ruin it. Ever since the new CEO took over the man who stepped in after his father—you weren’t sure what to think of him. What you did know was that the company had been overworking its employees nonstop.
You wouldn’t even complain if they at least upgraded the cafeteria menu.
The new caterer didn’t seem to care about repeating the same dishes over and over to the point that one of your coworkers ended up with a stomachache. Not to mention the coffee drip machine sucked. Like, genuinely sucked. Thousand-dime company, yet they never bothered to upgrade the damn coffee machine.
No one wanted to drink that brown liquid. You’d rather dehydrate than willingly swallow it.
Since then, most people have started going out for lunch. Some just kept working through it, to the point of developing gastritis or borderline malnutrition.
But not you.
You refused to starve yourself.
Your mother always said: never be stingy with money when it comes to food. Money comes and goes.
That’s what she said.
Nothing beats a home-cooked meal. You’d choose that over takeout any day, unless you were really busy.
Just in time, it was finally lunch.
You had been anticipating this. Your lunch. Your heavenly five-star meal that you poured your whole heart into this morning.
Heck, you didn’t even eat breakfast. Just that cheap black coffee from the café downstairs.
Today’s packed treasure? A hamburg steak with a molten cheese filling in the center, paired with soft, fluffy rice.
You didn’t forget the fiber either broccoli and roasted potatoes to balance the meal. You swore nothing beat homemade meat: freshly ground beef, breadcrumbs, and spices that actually made sense together.
You’d like to think you’re very good at pounding meat.
The mental image of that juicy steak, gravy cascading over the top and soaking into white rice, made your stomach growl loudly.
God, you couldn’t wait to devour the whole thing. It was your self-reward after hours of sitting in your office chair to the point your ass might permanently imprint into it.
Sure, you couldn’t eat it fresh off the stove but at least the microwave here was more competent than the company’s infrastructure.
With a small, happy hum, you walked to the pantry fridge.
Around this time, the shelves were usually emptier. Only one or two transparent containers remained, so spotting yours should’ve been easy, the pink lunchbox. Your trusted Tupperware.
Of course your food deserved the best of the best. Duh.
You picked it up.
And immediately, something felt… off.
There was a sauce stain around the lid. And now that you thought about it somehow felt lighter than it had that morning.
You frowned but didn’t overthink it.
Until you opened it.
Your steak was…
Gone.
Like, all gone.
Your thick, juicy steak. Your fluffy rice. Your vegetables drowned lovingly in gravy.
Vanished.
Your stomach growled again as you blinked down at the empty container.
You weren’t just hungry. You were starving.
A small, devastated wail almost slipped out of you.
How could someone steal another person’s lunch? That was straight-up cruel. There was absolutely no excuse to think someone needed it more than you.
If anything, you needed it the most.
Because you deserved it. After all the prep. The early alarm. The effort.
You inhaled slowly, trying to be rational.
It would be wildly unprofessional for someone from the PR team to crash out over stolen food. So fine. You’d handle this professionally.
You pulled out your phone and speed-dialed HR. It was important to keep essential contacts ready. That’s what Seungkwan always said.
The call connected.
“Hello, this is Hyunsuk from Human Resources,” a flat voice answered. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, Hyunsuk. I’d like to report a theft.”
“Okay,” he replied. “What was stolen?”
You didn’t hesitate. “My lunch.”
There was a brief pause.
“Was it during company hours or on company property?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot compensate for your loss.”
You frowned. “I don’t want compensation, Hyunsuk.”
You swore you could hear him sigh. “An employee’s lunch is considered personal property.”
“Yes, but isn’t it concerning that theft is happening on company grounds?”
“We have cases like this happen very often,” he said. “The company is not responsible for them.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“If you have anything else to report, please send an email,” he cut in. “My lunch break is starting.”
The line went dead.
Hyunsuk hung up.
You stared at your phone in disbelief. “…But my hamburg steak…”
Your eye twitched.
He just said it happens often.
Then do something about it?
“Whatever. Nobody even likes Hyunsuk.”
In fact, you weren’t sure he liked anyone at all.
With nothing else you could do, you begrudgingly poured yourself a lukewarm cup of coffee and returned to your desk with empty stomach, extra caffeine, and a growing vendetta.
The next day, you decided to let it go.
Okay, maybe you were being too forgiving. But hey, you were just hangry yesterday. Surely it was a one-time thing.
Still, the way Hyunsuk said these “theft incidents” happened often baffled you. As if they were normalizing it.
Like, what’s even the function of all those security cameras around the office?
If they can draw a hard line on “no inappropriate office activities,” then surely they can give justice to your stolen lunch too.
Crazy.
The last time people went into the pantry, they literally saw used condoms in the bin. Goodness gracious, as if the toilet didn’t exist. You’d rather not walk past and hear… unwanted noises either.
You did consider writing a company-wide email and CC’ing everyone. After all, who the hell knew who ate your lunch?
You refused to take this as egg-ceptance.
…Maybe not yet.
Despite yesterday’s tragedy, you still brought your lunch today.
After all, you made mapo tofu. And you were not backing down.
How did you make it again?
Oh, right.
Sichuan peppercorns.
While you weren’t a huge fan of overly spicy food, the spice of life played an important role in cooking. You could never forget the nose-numbing aroma of roasted Sichuan pepper. The thick red oil from the fermented bean paste. The firm, bouncy cubes of tofu holding heat so intense it transcended taste buds.
The Mapo Tofu.
You paired it with plain white rice but nothing could overpower the fragrance of chili oil and peppercorns.
It reminded you of that business trip, when Minghao introduced you to mala hotpot and a whole new universe of Chinese spices. You even brought souvenirs back, mostly seasonings to experiment with.
Bless him and his encyclopedic knowledge.
But today’s version?
Different.
Just in case, you doubled the heat. Twice the ground peppercorn. Extra chili flakes. A spice level too powerful for the mortal tongue.
Right before sealing the lid, you sprinkled a little more pepper.
If anyone dared to open your lunch, a red powdery explosion would await them.
Maybe you did this on purpose.
If they stole it again, you hoped their ass would explode in the toilet like that scene in White Chicks.
Serves them right.
…
Lunch break came.
You approached the fridge like a soldier returning to war.
You prayed the thief hadn’t struck again.
But the moment you picked up your Tupperware, the weight or lack of it—felt ominous.
You opened it and found it was already gone.
Again.
Empty.
But how? Why?
First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, who the hell devoured that hellishly spicy mapo tofu? Surely their stomach would declare war soon.
And third…
What. The. Fuck.
Who was this food-crazed glutton?
“…Wait,” you muttered to yourself. “If someone ate my super spicy Sichuan mapo tofu, their lips should be bright red right now!”
You didn’t hesitate.
Within the remaining minutes of your break, you scanned the entire floor like a detective on a mission.
Red lips. Red lips. Red lips.
But to no avail.
Your pepper-kissed burglar was nowhere to be found.
Much to your annoyance, there were simply too many employees in this company. Half of them wore bold red lipstick anyway. You couldn’t tell if it was spice-induced inflammation or just cosmetics.
You didn’t care.
You just wanted the rat-stealing-food burglar.
It was almost time to go home but unfortunately, a major project was in peak season. Several departments had to stay for overtime.
Including yours.
No one liked overtime.
Sure, you got paid. But was it worth it?
Maybe you should start your own business one day. Open a brunch café. Lower stress. Maybe finally use your bachelor’s degree properly.
You sighed.
Seokmin had given you a small box of macarons earlier after seeing the fury on your face but you hadn’t eaten them. You refused to fill your stomach with pity sweets. Too busy drowning in despair and caffeine as you typed aggressively at your keyboard.
The loud clacking and flipping of papers earned you a few glances.
You didn’t care.
Your food had been stolen. Twice.
Why should you care about their peace when they didn’t care about yours?
Fair is fair.
Eventually, you brushed it off and went downstairs to the convenience store before returning to the office. Instant noodles and sausages.
How classic.
You weren’t alone though.
There was a guy sitting a few seats away. Still in work clothes. His blazer hung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled just above his elbows. He was eating two cups of buldak ramen, the spicy kind.
It reminded you of your Sichuan mapo tofu.
You felt like you were mourning a loss.
And for some reason, you caught a faint scent of pepper clinging to his suit.
Maybe you were imagining it.
People had been avoiding you all day anyway, some even spraying air freshener after you walked past.
Still, you kept glancing at him.
Was it common for two people to coincidentally crave spicy food on the same day? Watching him slurp down two buldak ramens made your stomach twist.
Noticing your stare, he paused.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to you. “You got some staring problem?”
His voice was deep and calm but the tone carried an edge.
“What?”
“I said,” he continued, face still stoic, cheeks slightly puffed with noodles, “got some staring problem? I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude?”
You blinked.
“Excuse me?”
Now it was your turn to feel offended.
You almost apologized earlier. Good thing that you didn’t.
This guy is insufferable.
Judging by his face alone, of course he was. The only good thing about him was his face. And unfortunately, the bad thing was also his face. What a waste of something that pretty.
You couldn’t help but hope there was at least one imperfect thing about him. Maybe his personality was rotten. Maybe he snored. Maybe—
Whatever.
You just hoped his dick is ugly. Then again, no dick is ever pretty anyway.
“Rude…” you muttered under your breath before returning to your convenience-store “meal.”
After a while, you finished dinner and headed back into the company building, americano in hand.
And much to your surprise—
The guy was there too.
Walking in the same direction.
For a second, you almost thought he was a creep.
And then came the real disappointment.
He fucking worked here.
You nearly lost it on the spot.
Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? People in this company were either painfully dull, aggressively gray, or casually insufferable. If you were lucky, you’d meet someone with a decent moral compass.
Rare species.
Standing in the same elevator as him didn’t help. You had a talent for meeting the worst people at the worst possible times.
What’s new?
Still, you caught it again.
That scent. It was faint now but familiar.
The lingering peppery aroma. The same one from your stolen mapo tofu.
Okay. Maybe you were slightly unhinged, grieving over lost lunch.
But still.
You sniffed subtly and shifted a little closer.
The man frowned at you like you’d just malfunctioned.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he said flatly, “if you want to fuck me, you could just say so.”
You blinked.
Excuse me?
Oh, you would absolutely fuck him up alright but that was a different story.
He was insufferable. And irritating him suddenly felt therapeutic.
You scoffed and stepped back into your space.
“You have your entire life to be a jerk,” you shot back. “Why not take today off?”
Now it was his turn to look at you properly.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” he replied calmly, “but I’m guessing it’s difficult to pronounce.”
Oh, he was annoying.
“If I wanted to hear from an asshole,” you said sweetly, “I’d fart.”
There was a brief silence.
He stared at you.
You stared back.
He genuinely looked like he was calculating whether you were capable of doing it.
The elevator doors slid open.
You stepped out first.
“See you not later, Mr. Hodenkobold.”
He looked like he was about to fire back but the doors closed before he could.
For once, it felt nice to rage-bait someone else.
Especially after your lunch had been stolen.
So you decided.
For the next two days, you were going to catch the rat-stealing-lunch and end this once and for all.
For a brief, dangerous second, you did consider rat poison. But the thought of going to jail?
Absolutely not.
As tempting as it was, you couldn’t risk it. You had a baby to feed back at your studio apartment.
Your cat.
While you were suffering over your stolen gourmet lunches, your cat—Wonton, the name you lovingly gave her, was happily eating premium-grade cat food.
It was unfair. Really.
So you came up with a plan.
This time, you packed a cute bento-themed lunchbox: omelet nori rolls and rice balls.
Except—
They were made of wax.
Yes. Wax.
You followed a YouTube tutorial. Styrofoam base. Acrylic paint for texture. You even added gloss to make it look freshly glazed. Turns out, you had raw talent for this.
It looked absolutely gouda. An egg-cellent fake lunchbox.
You were certain the food stealer was souper hungry right now.
Okay. You really needed to stop hanging out with Seokmin and his endless food puns.
You even added a faint pepper scent to make it smell convincing. Surely no one was dumb enough to fall for fake food.
…Right?
But if they did? It would be hilarious.
…
When you returned at lunch break and opened the lid, you froze.
“….”
There was one—no, two chunks missing.
A bite taken out of the fake omelet.
You blinked.
What kind of unhinged human gluttony was this?
You couldn’t brie-lieve it.
They actually ate the wax.
The next day, you switched tactics.
You made curry fish head, rich curry paste blooming in oil, coconut milk thickening the broth just the way you liked it. You had to thank Minghao again for that Southeast Asia culinary expedition.
This time?
Untouched.
The container was slightly shifted, the lid smudged but the food remained intact.
You assumed the thief wasn’t a seafood fan.
Or maybe allergic.
That theory lasted exactly twenty-four hours.
The following day, you packed creamy rosé pasta with shrimp and clams. Garnished with basil. Sprinkled with oregano. And, of course, little octopus-shaped cocktail sausages.
For insurance, you taped a note to the lid:
you
do not touch.
i will find you. bon appetit, mf.
You stuck it firmly on top of your Tupperware.
Surely this would intimidate them.
Surely.
...
You returned during lunch break and immediately noticed the note had slipped to the floor.
You picked it up.
Your handwriting stared back at you.
And underneath—
you.
do not touch.
i will find you. bon appetit, mf.
"𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘"
You stared at it in disbelief at the bold, neat handwriting.
Slowly, you lifted the paper then tore it to shreds with your teeth, pure rage simmering in your veins.
The audacity must be on clearance sale.
When you opened the container, your jaw tightened.
Your pasta? Gone. The noodles devoured and the octopus-shaped sausages? Missing.
The shrimp and clams?
Only to be left behind.
Oh.
So they weren’t allergic.
They were picky.
You clenched your jaw, saliva dampening the dry paper as it scraped against your tongue. “Wow. Tasty, indeed,” you mocked under your breath.
This needs to end now.
You honestly need to lock the fuck in this time, to catch that rat-stealing-food burglar. You just hoped they stepped on dog shit today, that both their pillows smelled horrible, and that they’d have the worst fucking nightmare the moment they woke up.
“Hey,” Seokmin approached you with Soonyoung beside him. “Rice to meet you today.” He greeted cheerily, but the moment he noticed your moody face, he faltered. “Okay… berry sorry for that.”
Both of them leaned against the railings beside you. Soonyoung offered you a lollipop. You needed that so much instead of lighting up tobacco, which you’d quit back in your college days.
“Is it about the lunch stealing again?” he asked. “I carrot believe that person’s kept the stealing streak going this far.”
You gave him a look. It seemed like Seokmin had rubbed off on him with all those food puns.
He raised his hands in surrender. “In my defense, I’m feeling saucy today. It’s alright, we can grab dinner after this—my treat, of course.” Soonyoung tried to reassure you, knowing how furious you get when your food gets stolen.
“Yeah, let’s meat up for dinner!” Seokmin chimed in, making you roll your eyes.
Wait.
That’s it.
You have to meet that fucking rat-stealer face to face.
...
This time, you made your well-crafted most scrumptious, katsu sandwich. Cut in halves, three thick slices stacked neatly inside your Chiikawa-pattern container. Minghao had given it to you after his business trip to Japan, and you gladly accepted it since the cartoon was trending everywhere lately.
You liked the yellow rabbit character. It reminded you of yourself because he’s a big back.
Just like you.
Anyway.
You were not about to let your lunch get taken away this time.
And this time, you were going to protect it like it mattered more than your own life. For the sake of your health insurance, you tried not to pounce on that food burglar.
You were not about to let your money, sweat, and time go to waste again.
Now that you think about it, you probably should’ve shown up ten minutes earlier before catching the culprit.
Standing from your seat, you headed toward the office pantry and peeked inside.
You couldn’t believe your eyes.
Someone was hunching over the fridge, hand hovering over the transparent containers then toward your Chiikawa lunchbox.
“Hm, this is new…” he murmured. “…and tacky.”
Excuse me?
You weren’t about to back down when someone literally mocked your precious lunchbox pattern. So what? You liked when your mom packed your food in a Hello Kitty container with those little fruit picks shaped like cat ears.
You cleared your throat to catch his attention. He jumped slightly, straightening up.
“Isn’t it too early for lunch break?” you asked, slowly approaching him, arms crossed.
He blinked.
It was the same four-eyed dude who inhaled two fire spicy bowl ramens the other day. You almost scoffed.
“You again,” he echoed. “And who are you?”
He still stood there, relaxed like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.
“Me?” you repeated nonchalantly. “I’m not that important. Rather, why don’t we start with you, buddy.”
He looked like he didn’t want to continue this conversation. Probably hoping you’d leave.
Fine.
You indulged him for a moment and gave your name. When he finally replied, you learned his.
Jeon fucking Wonwoo.
You plastered a smile on your face. He turned away, ignoring you. The two of you just stood there for a few tense seconds.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked, sounding impatient.
“How’s that coffee?” you shot back, blatantly ignoring his question.
Wonwoo frowned, more like bristled at it, as if offended.
“Why would I drink that slimy brown liquid?” he said. “Don’t tell me… you drink that thing?”
“It’s not that bad,” you shrugged.
(It absolutely sucks.)
He chuckled, clearly mocking you. “You sound like you hate yourself.”
Oh, he’s so cocky.
Three days. Three days you’ve suffered because of this stealing bitch.
“Actually…” you stepped closer. “What did you do these past few days?”
He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Why? It’s a workweek. What else would I be doing?”
You weren’t buying it. “Do you always come to the pantry this often?”
“…I mean, I have to eat,” he replied like it was obvious. “Of course I come here.”
“Wow, me too!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “I have an idea—why don’t we eat together then?”
That made him falter.
He suddenly looked uneasy at your smile. Like you were plotting something.
“…No, thank you. I prefer eating alone. Now can you leave?”
“Why not?” You stepped closer, almost chest to chest even though he was much taller.
He stiffened but tried to maintain composure, clearing his throat before a grin slowly spread across his face.
“I see. If you wanted me so much, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself at me like that,” he chuckled lowly, eyes dragging down your figure. “All you had to do was ask.”
Your smile dropped instantly and stepped back.
You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face. That smug look made you want to chop off all his limbs.
“Oh, don’t lose that smile,” he tutted. “I’d rather think that mouth could do better. Maybe you’d be my cup of tea. Either way, it’s cheesed to meet you, Miss ____.”
Hell nah.
You were not backing down either.
Smiling sweetly, you replied, “You know what else my mouth could do, Mr. Jeon?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Hurt your feelings. I think dildo is a perfectly acceptable insult. I’d call you a dick—but you’re not real enough.”
That caught him off guard.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
For the first time, Jeon Wonwoo didn’t know what to say.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smiled. “Or maybe my words are true—your dick isn’t that real.”
His eyes darkened as he stepped forward.
“Watch it. Say that again and I’ll put that mouth to good use.”
And then—
A sudden loud gasp from behind.
Both of you turned toward the doorway to see Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung frozen in place, hands dramatically covering their mouths.
“You heard that, guys?!” Seungkwan gasped. “What the fudge—she was about to get dicked down!”
Seokmin clutched Soonyoung’s arm. “Look at them pudding up against each other! They’re both nuts!”
“That’s tea-rrific,” Soonyoung added, “but whisk I’m willing to take for a pear like this!”
“GET OUT OF HERE!” you and Wonwoo barked simultaneously.
In the end, you shared your katsu sandwich with him.
Somehow, it turned into a mutual rant session about Hyunsuk. No one likes him anyway. Glad you’re both on the same boat.
He ended up taking you to dine at a downtown French bistro. Claimed it was “compensation.” Not that you were entirely forgiving about it.
You learned he works in the legal department. Recently promoted. Employee of the Month. Overworked to death.
“So, do you not have a life then?” you asked, noticing he’d loosened two buttons of his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up.
He’s handsome.
Annoyingly attractive.
If only he’d shut up.
But again, no attractive person should be forgiven for food stealing. Especially your lunch.
“I did,” he said, sipping his wine. “Until they put me to work.”
You nodded slowly. Then circled back.
“You could’ve just ordered takeaway. Why my lunch?”
He grinned, leaning back. “Why? Your lunch, of course. Yours is the best I’ve tasted so far.”
The audacity.
Rich in audacity. Poor manners.
“So… what would you like to order?” the waiter asked.
“Right. Food.” Wonwoo skimmed the menu.
“What do you recommend?” you asked.
He hummed, closing the menu and looking directly at you. “Anything that tastes good.”
Your throat dried slightly. Maybe you’re imagining things.
“Oh? Like what?”
“Meat.”
Silence.
“…Okay. I’ll just get ratatouille.”
“But that’s all vegetables.”
“Shut up, meathead.”
The waiter coughed. “How cooked would you like your steak, sir?”
Wonwoo was still looking at you.
“Make it medium rare. And make it two,” you smiled. “I’d like a piece of meat too.”
The waiter jolted and left immediately.
“How long have you been stealing?” you circled back.
He sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to do that—well, that was until I met you.”
“M-me?”
“Your lunch.”
Oh.
“I don’t like takeaways. I used to live with my roommate, Mingyu. He cooked for both of us until I moved into my own apartment,” he said. “And I can’t cook for shit.”
“Can tell,” you replied smoothly. “Your personality is probably as shitty as your cooking.”
He glared.
You smiled.
“Watch that,” he warned. “I’m definitely putting that smart mouth to good use—”
“Shut up. Save it for later. I’m not riding that fake dick.”
“…”
Silence.
You took a sip of wine, scanning the dim lights of the restaurant. Fine dining. Expensive plates. His salary was probably double yours anyway.
“Here’s the deal,” you said. “Stop eating my lunch. That’s it.”
He considered. “Fine. I’ll pay for your groceries. How about that?”
“Nah.”
Wonwoo frowned, fingers lacing together. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I really don’t like the dripping coffee machine. And the cafeteria sucks. And I hate that the caterer keeps slipping her phone number onto my tray.”
“All I ate were ham and cream cheese bagels,” he continued. “Depressing, I know.”
You raised a brow, unimpressed. “Why not? For an attention whore like you, I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“She’s married. With five kids.”
“….”
Okay. Fair enough.
“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll bite.”
His eyes lit up.
He almost reached across the table, close to your hand then thought better of it and grabbed the napkins instead.
“Can I go to your place after this?” he asked suddenly.
You nearly choked on your wine. “Excuse me? Aren’t we going too fast?”
“To inspect your goods,” he deadpanned. “Your fridge.”
Yeah.
He’s definitely messing with you.
You did let him come back to your studio apartment, after all the groceries were paid for by him, of course. In return, you taught him how to make the katsu sandwich he’d been annoyingly edging about all night.
And yes, it turns out he really doesn’t like seafood. Wonwoo said it upsets his stomach, and once was enough for him to swear it off forever.
You set the groceries aside just as your cat greeted you, weaving around your ankles while you washed your hands, Wonwoo hovering awkwardly behind you.
Your place was cozy. Very you, he thought.
“Who’s this little companion?” he asked, crouching down to pet your white Persian cat. “Got a name?” He glanced up at you, finally noticing the frilly apron you were wearing.
“Wonton,” you said, peeling onions as you passed him another apron, this one reading Kiss the Cook.
He slipped it over his head without complaint. “That’s funny. Do you have a food phase or something?”
Now that you thought about it… yeah.
“Yeah. I got dumpling takeaway that night, and she was inside the box when she was still a kitten. So I named her Wonton.”
The rest of the time, you walked him through each step carefully.
“So,” he said casually, “how often do you pound the meat?”
Silence.
You looked up.
He looked back, utterly oblivious. “The fried chicken sandwich yesterday was delectable.”
“Not much,” you muttered, going back to chopping potatoes. “Other than salty food—do you like sweets?”
He hummed while dipping the meat into egg batter and breadcrumbs. “Not really to be exact. I had it during a business trip in Europe. I don’t remember what it’s called. Something like… quickie?”
Your knife froze mid-chop.
“…Quiche,” you corrected. “It’s called quiche, Wonwoo.”
His face lit up, nodding like he’d just learned a new word.
For a moment, you wondered if he was messing with you but the genuine reaction told you otherwise.
“Are you messing with me?”
He blinked. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t push it. It was pointless.
“Why can’t you cook?” you asked instead, lowering the coated meat into hot oil.
“Well, there’s this thing called ‘I just don’t,’” he said. “I once almost ate half-burnt scrambled eggs and decided never again.”
You scoffed. “It costs nothing to be kind with your words, you know.”
“Some days it costs me my fucking sanity, honey,” he shot back, eyes sharp.
Which would’ve been intimidating if he weren’t wearing that Kiss the Cook apron.
Your mom was right. There’s nothing romantic about cooking together. Move the fuck away.
“You know what?” you said. “Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go left, and you go fuck yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he grinned. “Just don’t ogle me when I pound my meat. I’d know myself for the whole course of the meal.”
He’s so hot. If only he shut up.
“Calling yourself a meal when you’ve had an STD?” you said, setting the fried cutlet aside. “Okay, food poisoning.”
He frowned. “I’d have you know I’m very healthy and clean. So you’re safe.”
“No one said I’d fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” you replied. “But after we finish this, I’ll have my way with you later.”
“…..”
“So,” he said, scanning your apartment. “You live like this while working at a million-dollar company?”
“I live alone,” you shrugged, cutting the sandwich in half and handing it to him. “No reason for a big place. I do need a spacious kitchen, though.”
He nodded, biting into it. “Fair. What about a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“Don’t have time for that.”
“It’s alright,” you added. “At least I get to rest on weekends. What about you? Hobbies?”
He hummed. “I dissociate. I play games. And lately, my bed is the only thing calling me.”
“Oh,” you said. “Then… hookups?”
He leaned closer, smirking. “Are you offering?”
“Hell no,” you said immediately. “I don’t have the energy.”
“For what?”
You gestured at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Half of your personality is just symptoms.”
“Your mom.”
“My mom passed away four years ago,” he said simply.
Well. That rhymed.
Silence stretched between you.
You swallowed. “…Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “It’s been a while. I still miss her.”
Another quiet beat.
“So…” you said carefully, “wanna catch up on Bridgerton?”
...
That night, you both sat on the couch with a noticeable gap between you, a cushion clutched to your chest like a shield.
The room was dim, lit only by the TV. Surprisingly, he was fully invested in Bridgerton. What was supposed to be one episode turned into a full marathon.
For some reason, it felt intimate.
Jeon Wonwoo, your coworker. The man who stole your lunch for a week. Also, the cause of your suffering.
Insufferable. Infuriating. Hot as fuck.
It would be a lie to say you’d never found him attractive. Well, except for that foul mouth. Not that you were any better.
The problem with this show was the sex scenes.
You’d completely forgotten how many there were.
Every time one came on, you felt the urge to skip it but Wonwoo didn’t move. He watched with the same unreadable expression, completely composed like poker-faced.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking inside his head.
Another scene started.
Just great.
You were very aware of how you shifted slightly, how your fingers tightened around the cushion, how your knees pressed together. The small breath you exhaled without meaning to.
The couch shifted.
He turned his head toward you.
He definitely noticed and yet, he said nothing. That somehow made it worse.
Because he remembered the way you talked to him.
The insults. The degradation. The way you never backed down.
Fuck.
Maybe that’s what did it.
Maybe Jeon Wonwoo was turned on by the way you spoke to him like you weren’t afraid.
“Do you want to make out and make noises?” he asked suddenly, looking at you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You blinked.
For a moment, your brain short-circuited.
Then you thought: when else are you going to get the chance to make out with a disgustingly attractive man like this?
Exactly.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you muttered, dropping the cushion before swinging a leg over his lap.
“Hell yeah,” he breathed.
His hands found your hips instantly.
The kiss wasn’t gentle.
It was messy. Almost clumsy at first, teeth knocking, breaths uneven but it quickly deepened. His mouth moved slowly against yours, deliberate now. One hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, holding you there.
You let out a soft sound against his mouth without meaning to.
Your body pressed closer.
He let out a low groan, restrained but it vibrated against your lips. You could feel his hardness pressed against yours, and it’s big.
When his tongue brushed yours, it wasn’t rushed. It was slow and intentional. Like he was testing how much you’d let him have.
You were already giving too much.
Time blurred.
When you finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe. A thin string of saliva caught in the dim light before breaking.
He looked up at you, and whatever was in his eyes now wasn’t smugness.
It was hunger.
Like he hadn’t had enough.
His head leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed yours as he murmured, “…I want you,” he breathed. “Please. I need to have you tonight.”
Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. The way his ragged breath fanned against your lips.
His hand wandered, softly caressing your back before sliding lower to grip your ass, making you jump slightly.
He grinned at your reaction. “Is that a yes?” he chuckled lowly, squeezing more firmly this time, drawing a gasp from you as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders.
“Cute,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips before looking up at you again. “…I need that pretty mouth of yours working now, since you’ve been such a smartass with me the whole time.”
Something about his piercing gaze made the heat pool low in your stomach. God, his commanding voice alone was enough to make you melt like chocolate left out too long under the sun.
You’re not a masochist, of course.
His thumb traced slowly over your lips before pressing gently, parting them as he slid the pad of his thumb just inside. His voice dropped.
“Get on your knees. Now.”
Did you listen? Hell yeah.
“Normally, I wouldn’t get on my knees for a man, but here I am,” you muttered as you moved between his thighs, while he spread his legs slightly, working at his belt and the sleek pants he’d worn earlier to dinner.
“I’m flattered to be the first man,” he chuckled. You could see the damp, slight pre-cum stain against his boxer. Then pulling the underwear down to reveal his shaft.
Giving a few pumps as he strokes his dick, groaning as his head goes over the couch. “Fuck, now go make use of that pretty mouth, baby.”
You breathe out, seeing that shafts make you hesitate a bit. Okay, that was a real dick; you take that back for insulting and calling his stupid dick fake.
Slowly wrapping your delicate hands around his shaft, you glance up to see his head thrown over the couch as you give a kiss on the tip of his cockhead.
His breath hitched as he watched you kneel between his legs, those soft eyes looking up at him with a mix of nervousness and determination. The sight alone made his cock throb harder in your gentle grip.
"Fuck..." he breathed out, his head tilting back against the couch cushion as he felt your lips brush against his sensitive tip.
His fingers instinctively tangled in your long wavy brown hair, not pulling but just... holding on. Grounding himself. The way your hands wrapped around his shaft made him stroke himself slower, more deliberately, letting you set the pace.
"You're so fucking pretty like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low as he watched your every move. "But you know what... I don't want your hands right now."
He gently guided your head down, his cock pressing against your lips as he guided you to take him in. Not all at once, he didn't want to make you gag or feel uncomfortable. Just... enough to feel you.
"Mmm... that's it," he groaned softly, his other hand moving to cup the back of your head possessively. "Use that pretty mouth of yours now. I want to hear from you."
His hips gave a subtle thrust, not demanding but encouraging. His eyes stayed locked on you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the wet sounds filling the room.
"Christ... you're incredible," he breathed, his thumb stroking along your jawline tenderly despite the rough situation.
You stiffen slightly, feeling his whole length around your mouth. Slowly making your jaw work as you bobbed your head, sucking him good.
He stopped you mid-blowjob, pulling you up by your waist with surprising strength. The way you were panting, lips swollen from worshipping his cock, made him nearly lose control entirely.
"Fuck... you look so good like this," he growled, his voice strained as he guided you toward the bed.
Setting you down gently on the mattress, he immediately followed, positioning himself between your thighs. His hands pushed your skirt up slowly, deliberately, savoring how exposed you were for him.
"Shit…" he breathed, his eyes darkening as he stared at your glistening core. "So fucking wet for me already."
Without hesitation, he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, his tongue immediately seeking out your clit. The taste of you made him groan against your sensitive flesh.
"Mmm... fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles. "Let me eat you properly before I take you."
His fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading you wider as he feasted on you with renewed focus, determined to make you come on his tongue first.
You gasped sharply, your palm flying to your mouth, feeling his mouth dive in like a starved man. He knows exactly what you need to push you over the edge. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close.
He laughs against your core, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair. It made him groan with satisfaction. The way your body trembled beneath his mouth, your gasps growing louder.
It was fucking intoxicating.
He continues to lap on your cunt, wanting you to come undone by his tongue. He could feel you’re coming close as he works closer and closer to the edge. His fingers thrust in and out of you, over and over again.
“Fuck— you’re so close already,” he murmured against your soaked folds, his tongue working faster now. “Let go baby, let me taste it.”
You could feel your orgasm coming closer as he kept pumping into you. When you finally came, his fingers still pumping inside you, he felt your walls clench around him rhythmically. The sight of you completely undone, head thrown back as pleasure washed over you— it made him nearly lose control too.
You swore you almost saw stars and later, he was going to make you see the entire fucking galaxy once he was inside you.
“God, you look so beautiful like this,” he breathed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you with a soft, wet sound. “So fucking beautiful when you let go.”
You gave him a weak tap, blinking as you tried to catch your breath. God, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Or maybe no one had ever made you feel this good.
It was embarrassing to let him see you like this. Kind of pathetic, honestly, to get so worked up just from being eaten out.
Wonwoo chuckled, settling himself between your thighs as he looked down at you, almost menacingly. “Take your time, sweet pea. I’m not done with you yet.”
Then, surprisingly, he said something reasonable. “Just to make sure—give me a safe word.”
You blinked, finally propping yourself up on your elbows against the mattress as you considered it.
“Strawberry,” you said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Make it shorter. Do you think you can say that before I pound you like dough?”
You huffed. “Cherry, then.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned in to kiss you again but stopped midway. “I don’t have condoms, though…”
And you weren’t on pills. You couldn’t blame him. No one had expected this to happen.
You checked the drawer beside your bed. It had probably been sitting there for two years, back when you never expected there’d be a man in your life again.
When you handed it to him, he bristled, letting out a laugh and flashing a cocky grin. “This isn’t my size, sugarplum. It’s alright—I’ll pull out immediately,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your temple then running his hands along your curves possessively.
He sheathed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, yet something raw, almost vulnerable flickered across his expression.
“I’m clean,” he murmured, his voice more serious now. “And I’ve never done this without protection before. So… yeah.” His gaze softened just slightly. “I’m trusting you, too.”
You let out a small whimper, feeling himself positioned at your entrance, his cock pressing against your wet heat. His thumbs framed your face, cradling it gently.
“Tell me you want this,” he said softly, eyes searching yours. “Tell me you want me inside you bare.” His hips gave a small thrust, just teasing waiting for your answer.
Almost cussing out at him for purposely made you feel this way, you breathe out almost pleadingly despite your bite. “...you asshole, stop playing—” you sharply inhaled when he thrusted his cock inside you.
He felt you gasp as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you open slowly.
Fucking hell.
The way you clenched around him immediately made him grit his teeth, might as well come inside you at this point.
“Fuck…” he breathed out, his hands moving to grip your hips. “So tight…fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He didn’t slam in, he took his time, letting you adjust to him. The way your walls squeezed him rhythmically was almost too much, but he forced himself to stay controlled.
And you—you never felt so fucking amazing right now. You think you might ascend to heaven. Eyes rolling over with your grip tightens on the sheets.
“Still with me, sweet pea?” he asked, voice strained as he hilted himself completely inside you.
You nodded slowly at him, murmured softly, “...yeah…you can move faster now.”
His fingers dug into your skin slightly, not quite bruising but definitely holding on tight. Breath hitched when you finally gave him permission, that single nod making his control slip dangerously. The way your walls were already clenching around him was driving him insane.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed out, hips already starting to move. He pulled back slowly, feeling every inch of you squeeze around him then thrust forward with more purpose. The wet sounds of your tangled bodies filled the room.
Your poor cat, Wonton, is already scurrying away somewhere.
He could feel your body trembling beneath him, and it made something possessive ignite in him. He wanted every gasp, every moan and every shudder of pleasure entirely for himself.
His thrusts became faster, more desperate as his breath came in harsh pants against your neck. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded softly, one hand moving to cup your chin, fracking you to look at him. "Tell me when you’re close.”
His cock throbbed inside you, pre-cum leaking out but he was determined to make this last. To make you feel as good as you made him feel earlier with that perfect, needy mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he admitted breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “But I’m not pulling out until I see you completely destroyed…”
...on my cock.” you heard him finished, his voice thick with need.
God, you can’t even talk properly with him. Did he just fucked you this good?
His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp. The change in rhythm was almost punishing— harder, faster and deeper. Each thrust he gave, sent pleasure spiraling through your waves, making your toes curl and your visions blur.
“Fuck…fuck— Wonwoo! You cried out, back arching off the bed slightly as he drove into you relentlessly.
One of his hands moved from your hip to your hair, fisting it rough;y and tilting your head back. His lips crashed against yours in a desperate, messy kiss that tasted like desperation and need.
“Say my name while I fuck you.” He demanded between kisses, his other hand moving to your throat, just barely pressing, not choking but claiming.
“Wonwoo!” you sobbed into the kiss, voice breaking.
It was all too much. His mouth on yours, hands on you and the way he was fucking you like he wanted to imprint himself on your very soul. Your orgasm built faster than you could handle, climbing higher and higher until you were breathless and dizzy.
“I’m—oh god— I’m—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your inner walls clamping down around him.
He felt you come, your body shaking and clenching around his cock, and it was his undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside then immediately pulled out as he promised. His remains spilled on your stomach, giving a few last pumps as he stays there.
“Fuck… fuck…” he breathed against your neck, his body collapsing onto yours as aftershocks rippled through both of you.
You stayed like that for a while, limbs tangled, your body slowly growing heavy with exhaustion.
But goddamn. That was the best sex you’d ever had.
(You’d only had, like, two back in school, but whatever.)
Just when you thought he was finished, he lifted his head and looked down at you before finally shrugging off the dress shirt that had been hanging open. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the lean muscle beneath.
God, you silently thanked the heavens for giving you an asshole that looked like him.
Grinning cockily, he hovered over you, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Oh, I’m not done yet, honeybun. That was just the appetizer. We still have the full course and dessert.”
Okay, maybe you should’ve bought the condoms and pills when you were grocery shopping with him.
“Now strip bare before I devour you for real.” He smacked your ass and squeezed, making you yelp.
The rest was history.
The next morning. Thank heavens it was Saturday. You would not have survived this if it were Monday and a workweek.
You fumbled beneath the comforter, still half-asleep. Then it hit you.
You’d been dicked down by the most insufferable, food-thieving man alive.
Slowly, you sat up, immediately feeling the soreness between your thighs.
Thanks a lot to that bastard for bottoming you out so good.
And you loved every single second of it.
Noticing the empty space beside you, your gaze drifted across the room—only to find him in nothing but his boxers, crouched beside Wonton, your cat. It looked like he’d already fed her.
Wow.
The sight of him watching your cat eat was almost… innocent.
Was that really the same person who pounded you like a beast last night?
Whatever.
You looked down and realized you were wearing his dress shirt. He probably cleaned you up before you passed out.
Pushing yourself out of bed, you shuffled toward the kitchen. You were starving, might as well whip something up.
He noticed you rummaging through the fridge and followed after you.
“Morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist as you worked at the counter. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Me,” you joked.
He immediately groped your chest, making you yelp as you slapped his hands away.
He didn’t look sorry at all. “You said it. I’m just taking what I want,” he grinned against your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.
“Let’s get married,” he suddenly said. “I need you for a lifetime.”
You hummed thoughtfully while whisking the pancake batter. “For what? The food or the sex?”
“Both,” he confirmed easily. “I already paid for the groceries. I’m basically your wallet at this point. Marry me and you get both—my dick and my money.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
His arms tightened around you as he added, “Then I can finally fuck you without using those damn condoms and pills.”
That made you turn to look at him, eyebrow raised as he flashed that stupidly annoying grin.
“Was that a threat?”
“A promise,” he corrected. “We’d make a great pear. And I wouldn’t mind putting a few little peanuts in you.”
He nuzzled your nape like an oversized cat.
You stared at him in disbelief.
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah,” he said smoothly. “I’m nuts for you, sweetie pie.”
Since that day, you kept seeing Wonwoo during lunch breaks at work.
With a price, of course. The lunch arrangement.
For some reason, you couldn’t help but notice the change in his personality. Well… he’d been a lot nicer lately.
And it scared the shit out of you.
You’d rather have him insufferable as always, wearing that stupid cocky grin.
Okay, maybe not. That was too annoying. You weren’t sure you could restrain your fist from connecting with his majestic face.
“Have you been sitting in all that sugar you bake with? Because you’ve got a sweet butt,” Wonwoo suddenly said.
A loud crash echoed through the kitchen as you dropped the baking tray in your hands, staring at him in horror.
Noticing your mortified expression, he took a step back. “Sorry. Too forward?”
He’d been crashing at your place again, insisting on driving you home as an excuse to spend more time together.
“Have you been laying in sugar, sweetheart?” he tried again. “Because you’re looking pretty sweet. Is that better?” he asked, almost apologetically.
You honestly didn’t know what to say, setting the meatloaf aside.
“I mean…” you started slowly, “…you always smack my ass whenever you get the chance, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it when I’m about to get into the passenger seat.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I think all of you are sweet, really.” Then he added, “I can tell your parents were bakers—they’d have to be to make a cutie pie like you.”
You blinked, finally turning to look at him. “…Well, my mom was a baker. And my brother owns a café, so yeah. Technically.”
“Wait, really?” he asked, momentarily dropping the act. “Why didn’t I know that?”
“You never asked,” you replied simply, waving him off. “By the way, what’s with all these cheesy pick-up lines? Where did you even learn them?”
Completely ignoring your question, he continued, “Are you bread? Because you’re the loaf of my life.”
Your lips twitched. “Okay, now you’re up to something. Did you lose a bet?”
“I think I’ve got cavities, because you’re too sweet.”
You chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter in your pink frilly apron. “If you’re trying to seduce me into baking cookies, you could’ve just asked.”
“I don’t know about cookies,” he shot back smoothly, “but you and I would bake a great couple.”
Your smile widened as you pushed off the counter and slowly walked toward him. “Oh? Is that what you think?”
He audibly gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you approach.
“Did you just come out of the oven?” he continued weakly. “Because you’re hot.”
You let out a soft giggle, stopping in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if I’m scared of you or attracted to you.”
His hands naturally found your waist. “Marry me, please. Let me be your husband. I’ll take care of you… and our little peanut. Soon.” He nuzzled into your neck.
Smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, Won,” you murmured, “if you want something sweet, there’s plenty of sugar right here.”
You tapped your lips playfully. He didn’t hesitate before pressing his mouth to yours.
A moment later, you both pulled back, laughing and giggling like idiots, foreheads resting against each other.
“By the way,” you asked softly, “where did you even learn those pick-up lines?”
He paused, thinking for a second.
“Jeonghan,” he said simply.
Ah.
Of course.
You never liked him. Same department as Wonwoo…just more obnoxious.
He definitely put him up to this on purpose.
One thing you actually learned from your mother's advice that surprisingly worked was that the fastest way into a man’s heart was through his stomach.
Turns out, he stopped stealing your food. He found something sweeter to keep instead.
FIN.
A/N: once again, thanks a lot for staying until the end, apples!! finally we've come to the end. if you're interested in more of my fics, feel free to check my page and my masterlist, if any of you guys are interested include in my taglist, feel free to sign in the form link.
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