₊⊹ "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 @wonuberry (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, pedophilia, 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.
warnings: badboy!wonwoo, dominant!wonwoo, established relationship, marking, oral (f rec), unprotected sex
wc: 2893
author's note: maybe this should be a warning but this is straight up fucking in your parents house and trying not to get caught
The dining room in your parents' house is bright under the chandelier, the table set with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and your mother's roast chicken steaming in the center. Your heart races as you sit beside Wonwoo, his hand brushing yours under the table in a fleeting, hidden touch that sends sparks up your arm. You've never brought home a guy before, and Wonwoo is certainly the last man your parents expect you to bring home.
He's transformed for the occasion: black slacks hugging his lean hips, a crisp white button-up shirt tucked neatly, every tattoo concealed beneath the fabric. His dark hair is slicked back just enough to stay out of his piercing eyes, giving him an air of refined elegance that contrasts sharply with the rebel you know—the one who revs his motorcycle too loud and smirks at rules like they're suggestions.
Your father studies your boyfriend, appraising him. “Wonwoo, it’s good to finally meet you.”
There's a hint of skepticism in his tone, but Wonwoo doesn't flinch.
“Yes, sir. I'm grateful for the chance to meet you both properly.” He turns to your mother, offering a charming smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “The house smells great—did you make all this yourself?”
She blushes slightly, waving off the compliment as she gestures for everyone to sit. “Oh, it's nothing special. Just a family recipe.”
As dinner begins, Wonwoo dives in effortlessly. He asks your father about his work, nodding thoughtfully at stories of engineering projects, and shares the story of how you met, focusing on the fact you met at college and omitting the motorcycle ride.
“You know, Wonwoo,” your mother says midway through the meal, passing him the mashed potatoes, “our daughter speaks highly of you. She's always been so responsible, our good girl. It's great to see her bringing home such a nice young man.”
Wonwoo's gaze flicks to you, a subtle heat in his eyes that only you catch, before he replies, “She's incredible. Smart, kind—I'm lucky to have her in my life.”
His foot nudges yours under the table, a secret press that makes your cheeks warm. The conversation flows easily after that; he compliments the wine your parents chose, laughs at your father's dry jokes, and listens intently as your mother recounts neighbourhood gossip. By dessert any tension in the air has eased into approval.
As plates clear, your father leans back in his chair. 'It's getting late, and the drive back might be rough with the weather picking up. Why don't you stay the night, Wonwoo? We have a guest room down the hall.'
Your mother nods enthusiastically.
Wonwoo inclines his head graciously. “That's very kind of you. I'd appreciate it. Thank you.”
You exchange a quick glance with him, smiling at how well the evening turned out.
The evening winds down with tea in the living room, polite small talk fading as your parents retire around ten. You bid Wonwoo goodnight in the hallway, your voices hushed and formal for their sake, though his fingers graze your wrist as he whispers, “Sweet dreams,” with a wink that belies the bad boy beneath.
---
In your old bedroom, the clock ticks past midnight. You're asleep, lost in dreams, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that skims your thighs and a pair of cotton underwear hugging your hips.
The door opens with a whisper-soft creak, not enough to disturb you. Wonwoo moves like a shadow, closing it behind him and turning the lock with practiced silence. He's shed his shirt somewhere in the guest room, left in loose sweatpants that do little to hide the bulge growing against the fabric.
His bare feet pad across the carpet, eyes adjusting to the dim light spilling through the curtains. He pauses at the bedside, gaze raking over your sleeping form—the way the t-shirt has ridden up, exposing the curve of your ass, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. The thought of claiming you here makes his cock twitch harder.
He slides onto the bed carefully, the mattress dipping under his weight as he spoons you from behind. His body molds to yours, chest pressing against your back, one arm slipping around your waist to pull you flush. The heat of him seeps through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, his skin feverish with restraint. You stir faintly in your sleep, a soft sigh escaping, but don't wake yet. Wonwoo's lips brush the nape of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo.
Then, without warning, his hand clamps over your mouth—firm, unyielding, fingers splaying wide to seal in any sound. At the same moment, his mouth latches onto the side of your neck, sucking hard, teeth grazing the skin as he draws a deep, bruising mark.
The sharp sting and sudden pressure jolt you awake. Your eyes fly open, heart slamming in your chest as panic flares—then recognition hits. Wonwoo's body is a solid wall behind you, his hips grinding forward to press his hard cock against your ass. It's thick and insistent, the length of it nestling between your cheeks, throbbing with need. You try to gasp, to turn, but his grip holds you pinned, his palm muffling the noise into a pathetic whimper. His tongue swirls over the fresh hickey, soothing the ache even as he bites down again, lighter this time, marking you deeper.
"Shh, baby," he murmurs against your ear, voice a rough rasp laced with amusement.
His free hand slides under your t-shirt, palm flat against your stomach, fingers dipping just below the waistband of your panties. "Didn't mean to startle you. But fuck, I couldn't stay away. Lying in that guest room, staring at the ceiling, all I could think about was you in here. Touching yourself in this little bed, biting your lip to keep quiet."
He rolls his hips, dragging his cock along the cleft of your ass, the friction making him groan low. "Got me so hard imagining it. You, all innocent, rubbing your clit to dirty thoughts.”
His words send a rush of heat straight to your core, your body responding despite the shock. You squirm against him, ass pushing back instinctively, feeling the rigid heat of him twitch in response.
You pull back just enough to breathe. “Wonwoo, wait. They're right down the hall. If they hear—"
He chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest as he guides you onto your back and captures your lips, swallowing your protest.
“You think I'm worried?” He nips at your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth before releasing. “I'll just have to keep you quiet.”
Your breath hitches, a mix of fear and thrill coiling low in your belly. You nod, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he sees the anxiety in your eyes, the way your gaze darts to the door.
“Trust me,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, trailing hot breaths down your neck. His hands roam now, one sliding under your shirt to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. You arch into him, legs parting as he shifts to kneel between them on the bed.
The kisses intensify, messy and urgent, his tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers pinch and roll your nipples, sending jolts straight to your core. You kiss him back hungrily, hands threading through his hair, tugging just enough to earn a low growl from him.
He presses his body against yours, the hardness of his cock grinding slowly against your thigh. The friction makes you gasp, and he silences it with another deep kiss, his weight pinning you down. Your mind races—images of your parents' bedroom door opening, footsteps in the hall—but Wonwoo's touch drowns it out, his hand slipping lower to cup you over your underwear, fingers pressing against the damp fabric.
“Already wet for me,” he murmurs, voice husky as he nips at your earlobe. “Good.”
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion; you try to clamp your thighs together, cheeks burning. But he pries them apart gently, settling between your legs, his broad shoulders forcing you open.
“Spread for me. Let me see that pretty pussy.”
You obey, heart pounding, as he leans down, his breath ghosting over your inner thighs. His hands grip your hips, thumbs digging in just enough to hold you still. Your anxiety spikes again—what if a moan escapes? What if the bed creaks too loud? You cover your own mouth with one hand, but Wonwoo shakes his head, prying it away.
“No. I'll handle that.” He shifts up briefly to kiss you once more, softer this time, reassuring, before trailing kisses down your chest. He pushes your top up, exposing your tits, and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the mattress.
A muffled cry builds in your throat, but he releases your nipple with a pop, moving lower, his lips brushing your stomach, then the sensitive skin just above your mound. Your pussy aches, slick and ready, and he inhales deeply, smirking up at you.
“Been craving this. Do you know how hard it was pretending to be the perfect boyfriend while I wanted to bend you over that dinner table?” His words send heat flooding through you, and you squirm, thighs trembling.
Finally, he dips his head, tongue flicking out to trace your outer lips, teasing you without mercy. You bite your lip hard, but a soft whine escapes anyway. Wonwoo's eyes snap up, locking on yours as he reaches up and presses his palm flat over your mouth, fingers splaying across your cheeks. The pressure is firm, muffling any sound, his skin warm and slightly calloused against your lips.
“Quiet now,” he commands, voice a low rumble. “Or I'll stop.”
You nod frantically under his hand, eyes pleading, and he rewards you by flattening his tongue against your clit. The sensation hits like lightning—wet, hot pressure that makes your hips buck. He holds you down with his free arm across your waist, his mouth working you relentlessly. His tongue circles your clit, then dips lower to push inside you, tasting your arousal with hungry laps.
“Fuck, you taste perfect,” he whispers against your skin, the words vibrating through your core. His hand stays sealed over your mouth, thumb stroking your cheek in contrast to the dominance. “So wet, dripping for me. My good little slut, creaming on my tongue while your parents’ sleep.”
The dirty praise seeps into your veins, making you clench around nothing, your body betraying how much you need him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, then soothes with broad licks that have you writhing below him.
Your hands fist the sheets, knuckles white, as waves of pleasure build. He hums in approval, the sound sending vibrations straight to your nerves. He pushes one finger into your pussy slowly, aiming to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. You moan into his palm, the sound trapped and desperate, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.
“That's it, baby,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your juices. “Squeezing me already. You love this, don't you?”
He adds a second finger, thrusting them in and out while his tongue returns to your clit, flicking rapidly. His hand over your mouth tightens slightly when you get too loud, a warning press.
He devours you methodically, tongue lapping at your folds, sucking your clit until it's swollen and throbbing. His fingers pump faster, scissoring inside you, stretching your walls as your arousal coats his hand. You can hear the wet sounds—slurps and squelches that seem deafening in the quiet room—and it mortifies you, cheeks flushing under his grip. What if they hear that? But Wonwoo doesn't care; he groans into your pussy, the vibration making you shudder.
“Come on, soak my face,” he whispers, voice muffled against you. “I want to feel my girl gush for me.”
The praise pushes you closer, your body coiling like a spring. He senses it, increasing the pace—tongue swirling, fingers crooking relentlessly against your g-spot. Your thighs quake around his head, trying to close, but he shoves them wider with his shoulders, burying his face deeper. The orgasm crashes over you, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, juices flooding his tongue. You scream into his hand, the sound absorbed by his skin, body convulsing in silent ecstasy.
Wonwoo doesn't stop, licking you through it, drawing out every tremor until you're oversensitive and twitching. Only then does he ease back, removing his hand from your mouth slowly, letting you gasp for air. His chin drips with your release, and he wipes it with the back of his hand, smirking down at your wrecked form.
“See? Kept you quiet just fine.” Wonwoo eases his fingers out of your pussy with a wet pop, the sound obscene in the hushed room, leaving you clenching around emptiness.
Your body still hums from the orgasm, thighs slick and trembling, but the anxiety hasn't fully faded—but he's not done. His eyes darken as he unties his sweatpants.
“Now, turn over. I need to fuck you.” The aftershocks of pleasure make you compliant, rolling onto your stomach as his cock springs free, thick and hard, and he rubs the head against your soaked entrance. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up,” he growls.
You whimper, face half-buried in the pillow, the soft cotton muffling the sound, but he tugs your head up just enough to expose your face. His free hand snakes around, fingers brushing your lips before clamping over your mouth from the side, palm sealing tight. “No noise, remember? Or do you want Mommy and Daddy to see what a slut their good girl really is?”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, shame and desire twisting together as you nod against his grip. His cock nudges your entrance, thick head parting your lips, and he pushes in slowly at first, inch by inch, stretching your walls with that familiar burn.
Unprotected, raw—you feel every ridge, every vein as he sinks deeper, bottoming out with a low groan that vibrates against your back. His hips flush against your ass, he stills for a moment, letting you adjust, his breath hot on your shoulder.
“Fuck,” he whispers, lips grazing your ear, his hand firm over your mouth to catch any gasp. “Like this cunt was made for me.”
He starts moving then, pulling out halfway before thrusting back in, the motion deliberate, controlled. You push back against him instinctively, meeting his thrusts, the slap of skin on skin growing louder despite your efforts to stay quiet. His hand muffles your moans, fingers digging into your cheek just enough to sting, a reminder of his control.
“That's it,” he growls softly, pace quickening.
He punctuates each thrust, his cock plunging deeper, the head brushing that sensitive spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your arms tremble, elbows buckling as pleasure builds again, coiling tight in your core. The fullness of him has arousal trickling down your thighs.
He notices, chuckling darkly against your neck. “So wet, you’re creaming all over my cock.”
You try to respond, but it comes out as a desperate whine into his palm, tongue pressing against his skin. He rewards you by reaching around and rubbing your clit. The dual sensation—his thick shaft filling you, the friction on your swollen nub—has your body seizing, walls fluttering around him.
His hand over your mouth tightens when a louder moan builds, and Wonwoo tilts your head back, exposing your throat. He bites down there lightly, teeth grazing, then sucks another mark that'll need covering tomorrow.
His roughness pushes you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you without warning. Your pussy spasms around his cock, sucking him in further as waves of ecstasy crash over you, thighs quaking. You cry out into his hand, the sound trapped and vibrating against his skin, body arching as you grind back, chasing every pulse. Wonwoo groans low, thrusts turning erratic, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, yes—take it all,” he hisses, burying himself deep one last time. His cock throbs inside you, hot spurts of cum flooding your walls, painting you from the inside as he grinds against your ass, prolonging it.
His hand slips from your mouth slowly, letting you suck in air, lips tingling. He pulls out with a slick sound, watching his cum start to drip from your pussy, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Look at that mess. My dirty girl, full of me. Better keep it in—don't want to stain your sheets.”
the new cheol fic????? IVE BEEN CRAVING YEARNING FOR MEAN CHEOL ARRANGED MARRIAGE SHE FELL FIRST BUT HE FELL HARDER FIC I THINK ABOUT THAT EVERY NIGHT AND YOUR SATISFYING MY CRAVINGS🤤 CANT WAIT TO READ ITTTT
HEHEHH we're on the same boat, anonnie. need more sunshine x grumpy pairing. will be posting the prologue tomorrow after i make some edits.
to think that your marriage has come to an end, you consider divorce as the only solution. that was until something seemed wrong with your husband. although you're not quite sure what it was, his sudden change forces you to put everything on hold. throughout the process, you find yourself falling in love all over again, remembering why you loved him in the first place.
pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader
genre: drama, comedy, angst, fluff, smut (mdni)
warnings: mature content, strong language, mental health themes, DID (dissociative identity disorder), split personality, marriage conflict, one-sided love, arranged marriage, avoidant attachment, emotional impermanence, anxious attachment, miscommunication between couples, mention of divorce (more detailed warnings in specific chapters).
add tags❤︎: established relationship, CEO! seungcheol, target audience: me, wife!reader, sun x moon dynamic, cheol is a little mean, she fell first he fell harder type of shii aye, grumpy x sunshine trope, second chance(?), attorney!jeonghan, secretary!mingyu, dr. jeon as moral and emotional support, therapist! joshua, i write tragedy, not sins. this is actually sad, but we are coping. third-person pov, kkuma cameo!
disclaimer: i am not a professional. therefore, i am aware that this story contains themes related to mental health, which will be written with care and respect. please expect upcoming chapters to include experiences inspired by real-life accounts. please read the warnings before proceeding and take care of yourself while reading. no self-harm will be mentioned, i can assure you of that. additionally, some mental health conditions and diagnoses may not be portrayed with complete accuracy, as experiences can vary greatly from person to person.
notes: phew, this is going to be a loooong ride. anyway, i feel like the banner and the genre tags are a little misleading bc there's nothing cute about this fic at all. but hey! i finally found the courage to post this, and i hope you guys will trust me with this one :D
i might get jumped for this, but wtv lol. i'm gonna post this later and yes, the reason why i started writing this was simply bc i read that blog article and was inspired to write this masterpiece. anw, tried smtg different, not a oneshot this time, maybe i will do a proper masterlist for this series.
say thank you cuz i did my proper research for this fic XD