what makes mingyu appealing is NOT his physical appearance. anybody can be hot. no, what makes mingyu appealing is his wet dog mannerisms and loser personality.
Pairing: bf!lee chan x f!reader (could be read as gender neutral as well, i just had a female reader in mind while i wrote)
Summary: you try to cancel a date with your new boyfriend after struggling with a bad acne breakout.
WC: 0.9k
CW: stupid tooth aching fluff. kisses. there is absolutely nothing wrong with acne and everyone is BEAUTIFUL despite it. chan is a great bf and really reiterates this to help reader’s insecurities. pet names (chan calls reader ‘pretty’, so no use of y/n).
A/N: i def got this idea bc i currently have a terrible acne breakout and am feeling INSECURE! so anyway uh here’s this silly drabble - dividers by @strangergraphics
It’s not often you have a bad acne breakout. And right now, as you get ready for a date with the man you’ve been seeing for a few weeks, you’re in full panic mode. Dotting all over your face are red, painful spots that just won’t go away.
For the past week, you’ve tried everything. Pimple patches, special face wash, different face masks, creams…you’re almost convinced you somehow made it worse. To top it all off, concealer and foundation doesn’t even seem to hide it, either. Truthfully, in the long run, those would probably just make it even worse anyway. If that’s even possible.
But you can’t show up to your date like this. You like Chan…like, a lot. If you show up like this, what if he thinks you don’t properly take care of your skin? Or he thinks it’s gross? You haven’t quite crossed the threshold of bare-faced dates, yet. And you definitely didn’t want to start tonight.
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you’re quick to dial his number. It rings twice before he’s answering.
“Hey, pretty!” He exclaims. “Everything okay?”
“No.” You groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I think I need to reschedule.”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you consider telling him the truth. But really, the truth feels quite ridiculous. For crying out loud, who cancels over acne? You quickly suck in a deep breath.
“Ah, I just don’t feel very good.” You lie. Which, in hindsight, it’s not a total lie. Thinking about this date while you look like this is making your stomach turn over itself. “I just…really want to stay in tonight.”
Chan hums. “What if I come over there?” He suggests. “I can bring comfort food and we can just chill? Watch some movies?”
Panic washes over you. “No, no,” You quickly stand. “I’d feel really bad making you do all that—“
“You shouldn’t.” He gently interjects. “I’m offering. You’re not making me do anything. Unless there’s another reason you don’t want me over?”
Pressing your eyes closed, you suppress the groan that bubbles inside of you. Now you just feel bad. He’s being so kind, and you can’t exactly push him off without him thinking he’s done something wrong. He hasn’t done anything wrong—he’s perfect. You really don’t want to mess this up, especially over some acne.
Besides, surely there’s a way to hide it from him. Right?
“No, I’d love to see you.” You finally sigh. “Thank you, Chan.”
“Anything for you.” He coos. “Give me an hour, ok? I’ll see you soon.”
When Chan knocks on the door, you feel your heart trip over itself. And probably fall down two flights of stairs, as well.
Your hand hesitates on the handle before you open the door. He looks cozy, wearing his sweats and hoodie that you’d gotten for him a few weeks prior. In his hands, he holds a few bags with snacks inside of them. Chan’s grinning, but it immediately falters when he sees what you’re wearing.
“A mask?” He frowns as he steps inside. He sets his plethora of grocery bags on the table as you close the door again. “Why is your hood pulled up?”
“I just,” you pause, “don’t want you to see my face.”
The corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. Pressing his lips together, he folds his arms across his chest. As he steps towards you, your breath catches in your throat. When he raises his hand towards your hood, you try to step to the side. He stops you, though.
“What’s going on?” He asks softly.
“Chan, I have acne.” You whine. “Bad. It’s everywhere. I look awful.”
A laugh bubbles out from him. “Is that why you wanted to cancel?”
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. “Yes,” you mutter. “We haven’t been seeing each other for very long. I just didn’t want you to think—“
“You’re still beautiful to me.” He interrupts. “Acne or no acne. It’s part of being human, pretty. Now, can I please see you?”
You roll your eyes. Tentatively, you pull your hood down, and peel the mask off your ears. Before you can try to turn away anymore, Chan cups your face in his hands. His thumbs brush across your cheeks as he grins.
“Beautiful.” He promises.
Then, he kisses your forehead. He presses another small kiss to your temple, your cheeks, and then you realize…
“Are you kissing my pimples?” You can’t help but laugh as you try to squirm out of his hold. He doesn’t let you budge, though, as he wraps his arms around your waist.
“Mhm.” He kisses your nose. “Just reminding you that every part of you is beautiful. Besides, kisses make everything better. Right?”
You scoff. “You’re so corny.”
“If you hated it that much, you would’ve stopped seeing me after date one.” He winks. “Now, should we start our movie night?”
Sighing dramatically, you grab hold of the strings on his hoodie. “You forgot a spot though.” You pout, then pucker your lips out.
“Ohhh,” he nods. “My god, how could I?”
You giggle as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. He pulls away just barely, his eyes flicking up to yours.
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.
feedbacks and comments are appreciated!! (for future purposes, so that i will improve my writings more.) pls do support me if you found this entertaining! ˙𐃷˙ here
Okay, I was so frustrated for the reader because why is wonwoo always stealing anything she cooks up lol 😭 but low-key if it's wonwoo doing that, I wouldn't really mind. He's just a cute little kitty. Also the food jokes in here were so creative. Love it!!
Synopsis 🩸 Your boss is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life, it's like he glows from within and brightens your day. But one evening after work you find him doing something that's about to change your life forever. That is, if he lets it.
Plot warnings 🩸everyone works in publishing, Vernon almost joins a cult (he's barely in it, but when he is, he's a menace), a brief reference to weed (Vernon), mentions of alcohol, Wonwoo being the annoying bestie is just canon in all my fics at this point, lots of references to blood (drinking it, blood play), threat (she's scared in the moment but gets over it pretty quickly), lots of literary references (Junhui, it turns out, has basically had everything to do with almost every famous literary work), I've tried to make his life historically accurate but he's almost 2000 years old so he's seen a lot, they're in love but he's refusing to accept that, heavy angst for a little while because Jun is an idiot, arguing/ bickering, Wonwoo is unhelpful (again, it's canon in every fic I write and he's in it), everything works out for them (without giving anything away), mentions of Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Joshua and Soonyoung being vampires too but we only meet Seungkwan, a car accident (mild injuries),
Smut warnings 🩸making out, fang play? (she's into the idea of him biting her), biting (with fangs), slight blood play (he tastes her), body worship, a lot of skinship? they just want to feel each other, oral f.recieving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, it's all very romantic but he does call her a pervert,
Word count 🩸 27.7k
a/n 🩸 this has been a labour of love and honestly could've been about 60k words, vampire Junhui is literally the perfect man (vampire) and I hope you like him!!
You can describe a lot of things in this world as beautiful. The view of the sun rising across the ocean, particularly old buildings which leave your mind reeling at how anyone could build something so grand hundreds of years ago, even the sight of a star filled night. But the one thing that you think might be the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing?
That’s simple.
Wen Junhui.
You’re not even exaggerating, there’s something about him that means the only word you can truly describe him as is beautiful.
Even now as you sit in a staff meeting and he’s trying to hammer home to you all that you need to find new writers who bring something fresh and not the same old same old, he seems to glow in his beauty. You’re certain it can’t just be you that realises it, every other editor and member of staff must be able to see it too. Although maybe they just manage to tune it out, you have always been attracted to the shiny things in life and the way he seems to almost shimmer as he floats through the room means you can’t take your eyes off him for a single second.
“You’re drooling again.”
“Shut up Wonwoo.” You whisper through gritted teeth, although make a conscious effort to divert your attention away from the beauty that stands before you.
“You know you should….”
But Wonwoo doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Junhui’s attention turns to you both and even Wonwoo, who is generally unaffected by even the most disastrous of circumstances, sits up straight like a child who's just been caught doing something they absolutely shouldn’t be doing.
“Was that something you wanted to share Wonwoo?”
God, even the way he talks is like something from the past, it holds that same reverence of people centuries ago who used to speak properly and with authority, rather than the abbreviations and slang that everyone uses today. You’d once written lol (by accident) in an email to him and you’re certain you saw him getting a dictionary off his bookshelf to see what this strange word you’d emailed him meant. It’s just every single facet of him demands respect, be it his beauty or the way he holds himself, he’s a monolith in a world of pebbles and you can’t help being drawn in by him.
“Oh! Er…” Wonwoo frantically looks around the room hoping something might jump out at him, because he really can’t tell his boss that he was about to say ‘You know you should just fuck him in his office’, “_____! She has a couple of manuscripts by new authors that she hasn’t shut up about for weeks!”
Fuck you Jeon Wonwoo.
But then Junhui turns his attention to you and you’re presented with a hopeful smile that in all seriousness, you would enter a battle for.
“Is that true?”
You’re certain his skin is actually shimmering, not in that fresh glow you get when you’ve been in the sun or the mirror like hue you get after a particularly amazing facial, but it just shimmers like he’s glowing from within. You’re not even sure skincare could achieve it, it’s surely…..
“_____?”
Shit. The whole publishing department is waiting on your answer and you’re sitting deciding whether it’s moisturiser or genetics that causes your boss to be fucking ethereal.
“Sorry!” You blush, picking at the skin near your thumb nail, “I do have a couple that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but I wasn’t sure they’d be what you were looking for.”
“To be honest,” damn his smile for making it so hard to concentrate on a word he’s saying, “I don’t know what I’m looking for. We need something fresh yet…timeless, I suppose. We need something to shake up the industry, like…..”
“Like 1984 but perhaps a little less true to life?”
You’ve done it. Your life has peaked. You have made Junhui laugh, you’ve seen the wide smile that forms on that stoic face and now you’ll never get over it. And it isn’t that he’s unpleasant, he smiles to you all and wishes you a good morning, but you’ve never seen him laugh. And now you have and you think you want to have the privilege of hearing it every day for eternity.
“That’s exactly it _____, yes. If you have time this week, drop by my office and we’ll check out those manuscripts.”
Breathe _____. He’s asked you to stop by his office for work. The way your heart just leaped, you’d think he’d just gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.
“O-okay,” you nod, fumbling with your notebook and pen, whilst you desperately try to play it cool.
“Very smooth.” Wonwoo murmurs as he watches Junhui start talking about publishing deadlines.
“Fuck. Off.” You poke him with your pen, enjoying the way he tries to pretend it didn’t affect him.
The rest of Thursday, after the meeting, had been derailed by Vernon. One of the writers you look after as his editor and a man so annoying that in a few years, it wouldn’t surprise you if you were doing jail time for murdering him.
He’d called you in a panic, saying his creative spark had fizzled out and he was going to join a new “collective” of artists in Nepal, where he’d smoke weed and take part in group activities that would allow his creative juices to flow freely again. So, when you’d arrived at his house by the beach and discovered exactly what these “activities” included, you informed Vernon what he was actually planning on joining was a cult.
You then had to spend forty minutes with a frantic Vernon looking over your shoulder, coming down from his last high with a whole cake on a plate because of his munchies, as you checked every email from this “collective” and rang his bank to make sure they hadn’t already taken any payments. When the leader of the cult called him, not that you realised they used phones, you always thought cult leaders would have some sort of edgy system of communication, Vernon threw the phone to you in a blind panic.
Two hours. Two whole hours of your day wasted by talking to a man named Supreme Leader John the Second (presumably Supreme Leader John the First was the first cult leader) who was adamant that now Vernon was in the collective, he couldn’t leave.
It was only when you listed just how high maintenance Vernon was (he will only eat fish on Wednesdays or every third Saturday of the month, he likes to use a mixture of mouth washes and has specific measurements for said mixing and he will only eat cookies with even numbers of chocolate chips in them because odd numbers “encourage the world’s evils”) that Super Leader John decided that Vernon probably wasn’t suited to their collective and they’d actually quite prefer it if he never contacted them again.
So, Thursday had been a write off. And for most of Friday, Junhui had been in meetings with various higher ups that didn’t concern editors like yourself. But now most of the office had gone home and you were left with two manuscripts that had landed on your desk months ago, and that you’d fallen in love with as soon as you read them. They’re by unknown authors and aren’t the usual sort of thing that this company is used to publishing. All you can do is hope that Junhui likes them, if not, you’ve got yourself all worked up over the simple act of visiting his office, for nothing.
His office sits at the end of the large open plan work area, you can’t see in it as there’s a small corridor that leads into the actual office itself, but once you’re in there it’s like a dream. You’ve only been in a couple of times but each time you’ve been awestruck by the floor to ceiling bookshelves, full of books that you can tell he’s read from how well thumbed they are, and that don’t even look out of place in such a modern building. He even had special protective films installed on the windows so the sunlight coming through the glass building wouldn't harm any of his tomes, he is literally the man of your bookish dreams.
You take a deep breath, the excitement of getting to spend one on one time with Junhui mixing with the nerves of spending one on one time with him, and knock on the door.
You don’t get an answer, maybe he’s out? Maybe he’s gone home already? It is Friday after all and a man like him must have a wealth of options of things to occupy his time with.
You risk one more knock and if you get no answer, you’ll leave the manuscripts on his desk with a little note saying that you hope he likes them.
The second knock brings no response and so you slowly enter his office, the manuscripts bearing the brunt of your nerves as the paper slightly crumples from how hard you’re gripping them.
What you find though, makes your blood run cold.
“OH!” Junhui looks at you in horror, quickly hiding the cut crystal glass he’d been drinking from and trying to wipe his mouth, “I didn’t hear you knock _____! Sorry!”
You don’t reply. You can’t reply. You just stare at the man in the fine cut three piece suit, who would look as beautiful as ever if not for the red smears around his lips, that he’s desperately trying to wipe away with a handkerchief, with wide eyes.
Your heart is pounding in your ears, you’ve never felt fear like it. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee, to get away from him and whatever he was just doing and yet you can’t.
It’s like you’re frozen to the spot, nothing but fear pumping through you but your legs are cemented to the spot halfway between his desk and your way out of this nightmare.
“W-was,” you swallow, trying to collect your thoughts, “was t-that…..in that glass…..was it?”
You don’t finish your sentence, the reality of what it was he was drinking makes you feel like you want to vomit and if what he was drinking is what you think it is, you need to get as far away from this freak as quick as you can.
You drop the manuscripts and run, ignoring Junhui shouting after you to come back and let him explain. Explain what exactly? Why he was sitting at his desk, quite happily sipping on a glass of fucking blood like it was a fine wine to be savoured? For the first couple of seconds, you wondered if it was tomato juice or a Bloody Mary but Bloody Marys don’t leave a stain on your skin like that. Because when Junhui tried to wipe away the residue on his mouth, it smeared and stained. It smeared and stained exactly like blood.
You know you’re going to have to answer the door. You’ve seen vampire movies, nobody just sees a vampire drinking blood and goes happily about their life afterwards. And from the way Junhui has been knocking at your apartment door for the past ten minutes, your life isn’t going on happily at all.
On your drive home, which you just hope you didn’t hit any old ladies or drive through any red lights whilst you weren’t paying any attention, you did toy with the idea that he’s just a weirdo. He’s just a weirdo that drinks blood and that might’ve been something you could deal with. But then you thought about it, really thought about it. The shimmer to his skin, the way he talks like he’s from another time, literally everything about him completely juxtaposes everything that the modern man is. And you know it’s far reaching and anyone would call you insane if you tried to tell them, but you just know it, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Wen Junhui is a vampire.
He’s been gently knocking on your door, desperately pleading with you to let him explain but you’re not an idiot. You know once you open that door, you’re dead. You’ve always had good veins, every nurse that’s ever taken a blood sample has commented how wonderful your veins are and so he won’t waste any time in feasting on you. You’re certain of it.
You did try to google what wards off a vampire, but the first one was sunlight and given he’s chosen to work in a glass building, even if his office does have protection for his books, sunlight doesn’t seem to be a problem. And what is more, you’re not religious so why the fuck would you just have a crucifix around the apartment?
Yes. You have garlic but it’s surely not enough to ward off a whole vampire, there’s probably some equation whereby each foot in height equals ten bulbs of garlic and you’ve only got two bulbs, it’s not going to be enough. And sadly for you, you’re clean out of wooden stakes. So do you just resign yourself to being a sacrificial lamb to the hot vampire who you work for? Perhaps you could fight him off? You did self defence classes for like three weeks and you once made Wonwoo’s nose bleed when you accidentally punched him fighting off a bee, you have some fighting skills.
“LET ME IN OR I WILL BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN.” Junhui gets tired of trying to be nice and shouts through the door instead.
Shit. He probably could too, why he hasn’t already is a mystery to you.
You gather your things, hoping they’ll at least ward him off for a few seconds and walk slowly to the door, your hands shaking and wondering how long it’ll take someone to find you. That’s if he even leaves any of you, maybe you’ll be so delicious that he’ll just eat every last bit of you. Do vampires even eat people? Or are they zombies? He’s surely not a zombie, not with that haircut.
“Stand back!” You’d have been proud of yourself for that if your voice hadn’t broken a little.
He doesn’t say anything but then what are you expecting him to even say? He’s going to kill you either way, all you’ve done by asking him to stand back is give him a little run up to the killing. Fucking idiot.
You open the door and hold your hands in the air, hoping your choice of repellents work at least a little.
But Junhui just stands there, eyes flitting between your hands and the traces of a smirk on his lips.
“What are you holding?”
“DON’T COME NEAR ME! I MEAN IT!!!!!” You waggle your hands at him frantically.
“_____,” he bites his lips to hide his smile, “the whole crucifix and garlic thing is bullshit.”
“SO, YOU ARE A VAMPIRE?!” You jump back, your arms still outstretched. Part of you was hoping he was going to say you’ve got an overactive imagination and he’s on some sort of detox that rich people do.
“Can…” he looks around the empty hallway, “can we talk about this inside?”
Your arms fall to your sides, you didn’t prepare for this, you thought he’d pounce but he’s treating this more like a business meeting.
What’s the point in saying no? He’s a vampire, he won’t take no for an answer anyway, you’re lying to yourself if you think you have a single thread of authority in anything going on here.
“Ok, but only if you stay right by the door. I want a good six foot buffer zone,” you wave your arms around yourself, showing him exactly where he can’t go, “do not come in this buffer area.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly and walks into your apartment.
Damn for a man who drinks blood, he really does smell fantastic, it’s like cedar with a mix of rosemary. It’s otherworldly, like nothing you’ve ever smelt before. But now isn’t the time to falter, you have an actual vampire in your apartment, it really shouldn’t matter that he smells nice.
“What do you want?”
“What did you think those were going to do?” he gestures to what you’re holding.
“Well. Garlic,” you gesture to him like it’s a given that garlic would help you ward him off, “and,” you glance down at the book you’re holding, “I’m not religious so don’t have a crucifix or bible or anything, this is the closest I had.”
“You think Mr Tumnus is going to help you fight off a vampire?” he smirks.
“The Chronicles of Narnia are based on the Bible,” you falter a little when you realise how fucking ridiculous that sounds, “it might’ve helped.”
He has just admitted that he is a vampire though, so you haven’t really got time to worry about your choice in defensive books.
“If you’re going to kill me, I won’t make it easy. I've got lots of salt.”
“You’re going to make sure you’re perfectly seasoned?” He raises an intrigued brow at you.
Fuck. So, the whole salt thing is a myth then.
“Salt doesn’t work either?”
He shakes his head, fighting off a smile.
“Oh, well then I give in,” you throw yourself on the sofa, “if it helps, my emergency contact is down as Wonwoo because he’s my oldest friend in the city, but don’t call him tonight. He has puzzle club with the old men in the neighbourhood and he hates being disturbed. You think you’re scary, you haven’t been on the receiving end of one of his lectures.”
Why can’t you just shut your damn mouth? Always have to drone on and on when you’re in a panic, like bamboozling whoever is scaring you would stop them from hurting you.
“I don’t want to kill you ______,”
“Oh please, don’t use the whole I don’t want to do this, I need to do this. I’ve read Dracula.”
“No,” he sits on your coffee table, chuckling at the ancient copy of ‘The Chronicles of Narnia’ that you thought would help and very much ignoring your six foot buffer zone, “I don’t need to kill you either. I just need to know you won’t tell anyone.”
“Like anyone would believe me if I told them my boss was a vampire.”
“You seem quite calm considering you’ve just found out your boss is a vampire.” He narrows his eyes at you.
You’re not calm. You’ve no idea what you are. All you know is that you’re having to come to terms with the fact that not only do vampires appear to exist. But the boss you’ve been crushing on for god knows how long, is one.
“There’s not much I can do. You’ll either kill me or I’ll have to keep it secret. I’m not being sectioned because you’re a vampire.” You say indignantly, desperately trying to get some kind of upper hand here.
“I don’t want to kill you _____. I’ve said that. But I need to know you’ll keep this secret. If not, I have to move on and you’ll all lose your jobs.”
Oh great. So now the job of every person who works for one of the biggest publishers in the country, relies on your ability to keep a secret. Something which famously, you’re terrible at. You’ve told your mom every secret you’ve ever been told and Wonwoo seems to have some sort of sixth sense for when you’re hiding something. He’ll sniff it out before you even enter the office.
“I won’t tell anyone,” you sigh, leaning back into the sofa, “I can’t be responsible for everyone losing their jobs. But…..can I have those manuscripts back?”
“Why?” he smirks.
Shit. He’s already them. Or one of them at least.
“I didn’t know…..I wouldn’t have…..oh god,” you groan, ignoring the little laugh that comes from Junhui.
“You wouldn’t have brought a manuscript about a vampire to your boss that happens to be a vampire?”
“How did you read it already? It’s been like an hour?”
“I can read pretty quickly.” He shrugs like it’s nothing.
You should probably ask him to leave but you’re nothing if not nosey and if you’re never going to talk about this with him again, you want to ask him what life as a vampire is really like.
“Go on.” He smiles.
Can he? Oh fuck you hope he can’t read minds. He’s being very calm for someone that will have been subjected to some pretty explicit daydreams you’ve managed to conjure up, if he can read minds.
“Can you?” you ask quietly, “read minds?”
“No,” he snorts, “you just look like you have questions and to be honest, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
“Thank god for that!” your eyes widen, “I mean not that I’ve been thinking of anything weird. You know, just worried about stranger danger I guess,” you trail off.
“Could I?” He gestures to the spot on the sofa next to you.
“Oh! Sure! Do you want a drink? Although….” What the hell do vampires drink? Thinking about it now, you’re not sure you ever have seen him drink, other than the blood he was drinking earlier.
“Any b negative?” you freeze on your way to the kitchen, “I was joking _____. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
“Mint tea?”
“Perfect.”
He stands up to take his jacket off and you desperately try not to think too much into the fact that you’re spending time in your apartment, with your hot boss who you’ve been pining after for ages. The fact he’s a vampire should make you want to run and bang on your neighbour’s door for help, but you feel oddly at ease with him. He doesn’t seem to mean any harm to you and the fact that if you told someone, he said his reaction would be to leave, rather than hurt you, shows he truly has no intentions of hurting you.
“Here you go,” you mumble as you hand him the steaming mug of tea and sit down on the sofa next to him.
“Thank you. You’ve quite the collection of books.” He smiles and nods over to your messy bookshelves which have far too many books than the old shelves should be holding.
“Hm,” you hum, swallowing your sip of tea, “I’m running out of space for them. I know everything is going digital and people say print is dying, but I don’t know. I just like having the physical copy, I like seeing what I’ve read and the characters I’ve known.”
You turn back to him, shocked to find a fond smile on his lips.
“What?”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself. That’s what I’m always trying to hammer home to the execs, people want the physical copies of books. I understand the ease of digital things, but I still think there’s hope for published books. It isn’t the write off they think it is.”
“Can I….Do you mind if I……”
“Ask me whatever you want ______.”
Even the way he says your name makes your body tingle and heart leap. You shouldn’t still be having this reaction to him now you know he’s basically a monster.
“How old are you?”
“1941 years old.”
“That would mean you were born in….” you try to work it out, “85? Like the year 85?”
“If you’re using the current way of counting, yes. Although I was born hundreds of years before that system came into practice, before that we just used the eras of the current rulers and things.”
“So,” You cross your legs and get comfy on the sofa facing him, not realising just how softly he’s looking at you, “where were you born? Like does that country still exist?”
“It’s still China.” He nods, “But it’s very different from when I was born there. If you’d have told four year old Junhui he’d be moving around the earth in a metal box he’d have never believed you. Or known what metal was.”
You can’t imagine what that must be like. To have seen history with your own eyes.
“Did you always live in China? Or did you just recently move?”
“Recently to you and recently to me are two very different things ______.”
“Right,” you nod, a little embarrassed.
“I’ve lived all over the world,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ve seen the fall of Rome, I saw people say ‘Oh Shakespeare? He’s just a phase, he’ll be forgotten in a few years’ and I’ve seen some of the worst things mankind has ever done. You tend to have to move around every few decades or so, people grow old and when you don’t,” he smiles, though you note it doesn’t seem quite as happy as he wants it to, “you need to move on, so you’re not caught out.”
“That must be lonely.”
You sip your tea and wait for an answer, but when you look at him, he’s just staring at you with an emotion you can’t quite make out.
“No-one, not that many people have ever found out about me, but no-one has ever said anything like that. Or even thought about how it must feel to live like I do. It’s not a bad thing!” He rushes to say when he sees you looking a little worried you’d said the wrong thing.
You just nod and go back to your tea.
“Do you like the Chronicles of Narnia?” He averts his eyes to your well-read copy on the coffee table.
“It was my favourite books growing up. I think I've read them all a hundred times.”
“You know,” he sips his tea like he’s saying something totally normal, “it was me that came up with the name for Aslan.”
“What?! You’re just making that up!”
“I’m not!” he laughs, putting his tea down and picking up your book, “I was studying at Oxford University, I met Clive,” you scoff at him casually calling the author of your favourite childhood book Clive, like he’s friends with him, “at a local pub by chance. I told him I was a literary scholar, and he told me about the book he was writing and how the main hero was a lion and what he represented. But he was struggling with a name, so I suggested Aslan. I’d recently been in Turkey and Aslan is Turkish for Lion. Anyway, Clive loved it and so, Aslan was born.”
You blink at him. For someone that always has so much to say, you’re utterly speechless.
“What was he going to be called before that?”
“Mr Lion.”
You throw your head back in laughter much to the joy of the vampire sat beside you.
“H-he,” you hiccup out another laugh, “he was going to call him Mr Lion?”
“Well he did have form for it. Those poor beavers never got names did they? Just Mr and Mrs Beaver.”
You freeze. He’s actually telling the truth. You thought with a response like Mr Lion, he was just joking to calm your nerves.
“You’re being serious?”
“Yes! I named Aslan!”
“That’s fucking wild.” You shake your head.
“I have a first edition, if you wanted to see it?”
“Really? I’d love that! I love old books, I’ve never dreamt of owning any, or even seeing any, but I love the history of them. How they’ve been passed down and where they’ve been to get where they are now.”
If you could read Junhui’s mind you’d know that for the first time in a very long time, possibly ever, he feels completely captivated by you. He’s had romances through his life and people he thought he loved, but he’d never told anyone else about his “condition”, and thankfully, he’d never been found out, except for a few close shaves.
Suddenly though, he’s in a situation where someone knows his secret and that someone just happens to be one of the most beautiful and endearing women he’s ever met in his long life on this earth. It’s selfish to indulge you, and he tells himself he’s only offering to show you because you seem so interested in it, but a part of him, quite a big part is selfishly doing this because he can’t help wanting to spend more time with you.
“I’ve collected quite a few interesting pieces over the years. I could pick you up tomorrow? That’s if you don’t mind coming to my place?”
“Oh.” You sit up, a little shocked. “I-I’d really like that. You don’t mind showing them to me?”
“_____, in this life I don’t get to show many people, or anyone, this part of my life. People would ask way too many questions about where I found these things. So it’d be nice to share them with someone, particularly someone who seems to hold the same reverence for these things as me.”
“Then, yes. I’d love to come to your place.”
“Perfect,” he finishes his tea and even heads to the kitchen to clean his mug, “I’ll pick you up at 10? Or is that too early?”
“No, that’s fine!” You say excitedly, showing him to your door.
“Great,” he pauses like he was going to hug you, but instead sends you a small smile and sort or taps your arm before he heads through your front door, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Bye.” You grin and wave him off.
As the door closes, your back hits it and you can’t help the huge grin on your face. You’re spending your Saturday with your hot boss, at his apartment no less. Fuck, finding out he’s an ancient vampire might’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
You’d slept pretty well for someone who’d just found out that her boss is a blood drinking vampire, but you put that down to the fact that in the excitement of the prospect of spending time with him, you’d somehow completely blocked out that he is, in fact, a vampire. And that just yesterday you walked into his office to find him casually drinking a glass full of blood.
But now you’re waiting for him to pick you up, having been ready to go for the past hour because your nerves were kicking your ass, and you can’t help but think how incredibly stupid you’ve been to get yourself into this situation. Sure, he didn’t seem like he meant you any harm. And surely if he was going to kill you, he’d have done it last night, it makes no sense to keep you alive and give you the opportunity to tell someone what you’d found out. But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t been frantically pacing your apartment since seven this morning and wondering whether this was all some kind of trap.
This could all be a ruse to lure you to his place and keep you there. Perhaps that what vampires do, they don’t kill people straight away, they do it slowly. He might be intending to just keep you locked away somewhere in his home and feast on your blood whenever the mood takes him. And yet. You still felt oddly safe being near him last night, he didn’t speak to you with any threat, he didn’t seem to want to threaten you at all. And, if it had been a date or something, you’d have been pretty pleased with how easily you both got on, the chat flowed freely and he’d even made you laugh. Which is better than the last three first dates you’ve been on.
You check your watch, it’s only been a minute since you’d last checked it but other than picking the skin near your thumb nail, a habit your mom said would get you into trouble one day, you haven’t got much else to do. Five minutes. Just another five minutes and he’ll be knocking on your door, and you’ll be going to an actual vampire’s house. That is, if he’s on time. But you’re certain vampires generally are on time, they just have that vibe around them that they’d probably be punctual. Not that you’ve met many vampires. Although you have now met one, which considerably more than most people.
A gentle knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts and you take a deep breath before you stand up. You’re excited, you can’t deny that, but it’s like the fear you feel before a first date has quadrupled because you have absolutely no idea what to expect from this. And it isn’t even that you can call it a date, he’s just asked you if you want to see his book collection because he never gets to share it with anyone. It’s more just your boss showing you something he knows you’ll like, rather than a first date with the potential for it to lead anywhere.
“Hi,” he says softly when you open the door.
“Hello”
You’re not sure why, but you were expecting him to be wearing a suit. He just always is in a suit. You certainly weren’t expecting the 1941 year old vampire to be sweats but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He looks warm. Like he’d give really great hugs and keep you safe. Shit you need to stop this, he is literally a vampire.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure,” you close your door and walk along the corridor with him towards the elevator.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” you ponder, “a lot better than you’d think I would after yesterday.”
“Panic only set in this morning?” he smiles. How the hell can he read you so well? It’s not like you’ve spent a huge amount of time with him and yet this is the second time that it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.
“Sort of,” you admit, “you don’t scare me, not really. I think my imagination is scaring me a lot more than you.”
“I swear to you, I don’t mean you any harm. And,” he presses the button to the elevator, “you can ask me whatever you want to, I don’t mind. I know it’s a lot to take in.”
You just smile softly and nod, both of you entering the elevator and heading down to his car. You have questions. You have a lot of questions, but you’re probably better off waiting until you’re in private. The last thing you need is for any nosey neighbours to hear you ask where he gets his blood from and if he actually feeds off real people.
When Junhui parks in the underground parking lot of a large, luxurious apartment complex, you can’t help but feel a little stupid. You heard vampire and just presumed an old, pretty scary, mansion in the woods. Not modern luxurious apartments in the most affluent part of the city. This goes to show that all your over thinking is pointless, you’ve no real idea of what to expect from all of this other than your boss has shown you nothing but kindness since you found out this secret and you’ve spent the whole morning making assumptions about how he lives.
Before you can even open the door, Junhui has rushed around from the driver’s side of the car and opened it for you.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
“My mother taught me manners and I’ve never forgotten them.”
“Your mother taught you to open a car door for people?” You challenge, hoping he sees you’re joking.
“Well,” he grins, ushering you towards a private elevator for the penthouse complex, “no, she taught me to always let ladies walk through doors first. But I’ve adapted with the times.”
“Is your mother still alive? Is she…..like you?”
He pauses as he presses the button to close the door to the elevator and you worry that you’ve been too forward. Of course he doesn’t want to tell you everything about his life, he was probably just saying you could ask anything to make you less panicked.
“She died a long long time ago now. She wasn’t like me, she never knew I became like this.”
“I’m sorry,” you play with your sleeves, “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.”
You try to avert your eyes, taking a particular interest in the ceiling off the elevator but he interrupts your feeble attempts to ignore the awkwardness.
“I said you could ask me anything you wanted. And I rarely get a chance to even acknowledge what I am, let alone speak about it. I have to lie and say my parents are back home, or they died, or whatever my current story is for the last few decades I’m in any one place.”
“That must be tough, living so many different lives.” You nod. You struggle with dealing with one life sometimes, let alone multiple.
“It is,” the elevator bongs and he ushers you into a large entryway, “but it’s amazing in parts. I’ve seen and done things that most people with even the wildest imagination couldn’t dream up.”
“Like naming legendary lions?” You smile at him, handing him your coat and him hanging it up with his.
“Exactly.” He says proudly.
It’s only when you wait for him to put a door code in that you realise just how big this place is, just the entry way is bigger than most apartments and it’s decorated beautifully. There are a couple of modern works of art on the walls and on either side of the door are large ornate vases that are about half your height. The only other thing is an old school coat stand and shoes rack, no doubt something he bought on his travels. If you asked him about them he’d probably say something ridiculous like they belonged to an old european monarch or something. So instead you just keep your mouth shut and will yourself not to fall for the seemingly perfect vampire who’s invited you over to look at his book collection.
“Shoes.” He looks down at your feet like your mother would if you forgot to take your shoes off in your grandma’s house.
“Oh!” You quickly launch your sneakers off your feet, “Sorry! Do you have those like foot cover things?”
“This is my home _____, not a museum. I just don't like shoes in the house. You don't need foot protectors and you don’t need a full hazmat suit either.” he smirks.
“I was just checking,” you grumble, taking an active interest in the vase near the door rather than his smug face.
He opens the door and gestures for you to go through first, his mom’s manners still at the forefront, and you slowly walk into the apartment. It’s huge, open plan and designed like something out of an architecture magazine. The walls are simple, white and clean and numerous works of art and prints line the walls. A glass staircase leads up to the second floor and you’re certain it continues up to another level after that. You’re not surprised it’s grand, he’s been alive thousands of years, he must have amassed a huge amount of wealth with that. But on the whole it just feels……..
“You don’t like it?” He must’ve noticed your slight disappointment.
“It’s just very……normal? I-I mean not normal,” you panic, “I just mean, it looks how I thought it would before I knew what you were. Not that I think you’re any different now, I’m not prejudiced ....”
“______. Although I think this little ramble is very cute,” fuck your cheeks must be bright pink at that, “I understand what you mean. You were expecting something out of a horror movie? Or some dark dungeon where the sunlight couldn’t get me?”
“I guess,” you shrug, “is that whole no sunlight thing not true then?”
“None of those old myths are true. Apart from the stake through the heart, that would kill anyone. It’s pointless anyway, I can move quicker than most people can think. It’d take a miracle to actually be in the position to run a stake through a vampire's heart.”
“How quick?” You narrow your eyes at him but before you can even finish your sentence he’s gone, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
You spin around trying to find him, just to hear a cough coming from above you. You look up to find Junhui leaning against a grand piano positioned in front of the large windows on the floor above you, looking very pleased with himself.
“H-how? What? I didn’t even see you move!!”
In the blink of an eye he’s back beside you and again, you’d hardly seen it. It was like when you walk into a room and a spider or mouse quickly darts into a safe place. You know you’ve seen something but you can’t be sure.
“So you can see why the whole stake through the heart is tricky.”
“Damn, there’s not much point in me taking my stake out of my bag then.” you sigh dramatically.
“I don’t think you’d ever kill me.” He says happily, moving over to the kitchen.
“Why?” You ask, following him and trying not to get distracted by the fact he seems to have every kitchen appliance of your dreams.
“You just said you weren’t prejudiced. Like insulting a vampire for their stereotypes was the same as insulting any human for the stereotypes they may have about where they’re from or what they do. Nobody that kind would kill anyone.”
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, “do you want a drink?”
“It depends what it is.”
Yes, you’re not prejudiced. But you’re entirely sure you could stomach seeing him drink blood without throwing up all over his kitchen.
“Take your pick.” He says as he throws open the door to a fridge the size of your whole bedroom. Ok, maybe not that big but it is the biggest fridge you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Why do you have all this if you can’t have it?” You ask as you try to decide what the hell you want to drink. Which isn’t easy when he seems to be stocking more options than your local convenience store.
“Who says I can’t have any of it?”
“I saw you drinking blood Junhui…” Your eyes widen, “I mean Mr……”
“Junhui is fine.” He smiles fondly at you. “And you also saw me drinking mint tea.”
“So you can eat and drink like a human? But you still need blood?” You settle on an orange juice and close the fridge door, trying not to look at how good he looks leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded.
“Exactly,” he nods, “I can eat and drink whatever I want, but I need a little blood each day.”
“Do you go to the toilet then?”
Fuck. You didn’t mean to actually ask that. How fucking embarrasing.
“Most people would be more interested in the blood,” he beams at you once he’s stopped laughing, “but yes, I go to the toilet.”
“Good,” you nod, taking a sip of your orange juice and wishing your brain would develop at least some kind of filter, “and the blood? You don’t……I mean it’s none of my business if you do……but do you? Feed off people?”
“No,” he says kindly, “There are only a handful of us left in the world. Luckily my friend Seungkwan works for one of the top hospitals in the country. We move together generally although we don't see each other much. He supplies us both with blood from the hospitals he works in. In the early days,” he sighs, gesturing for you to sit on one of the stools near him, “when I’d first been changed, I did feed on humans. I couldn’t help myself, I resented what I’d been turned into. I hated humans because I still longed to be one. But, after those first few years, I realised I couldn’t change what had happened to me. And a whole generation had passed, it wasn’t the fault of the humans any more than it was mine. And so I found new methods, now it’s simple to avoid feeding on humans.”
“How did you become like this?” Now you’ve started, you want to know as much as possible about him.
“When I was growing up, we didn’t really have legends of vampires. There were stories of the undead living off humans to survive but nothing of actual vampires. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was coming back from a night of drinking with my friends and before I knew what had happened, I was attacked. I think they meant to kill me, to feed off me completely, but something spooked them and they fled. I was unconscious for days because of the amount of blood they’d taken but there was enough of their DNA in me that I was fine. Better than fine, I felt unstoppable. But I hated what I’d become, I hated that they took my life from me.”
“How did you know you’d become a vampire though? If you’d never heard of them? You could’ve just gotten better?”
“Seungkwan found me. If I’m honest I think it was him who stopped me being killed but he’d never admit that. He’s always hated vampires who use their power to cause fear or hurt people. He’d been hunting down the last truly evil vampire, the one who turned me, for years. It took him another century until he did finally stop him. But Seungkwan explained everything. And then he disappeared. If he hadn’t…..If he’d have guided me in those first few years. It might’ve saved the people I hurt.”
“It’s not your fault you reacted like that. You can’t blame yourself for what you did because of something you never asked for. That’s not fair, Junhui.”
He stares at you with an unreadable look on his face and you worry you’ve been too forward, acted too friendly or something when he is still your boss and you do barely know each other. It just feels so unjust though, for him to have never asked to be a vampire and it’s not like he could help the fact he needed blood to survive. It’s like holding it against a baby that they need milk or an adult human for needing water. He needed blood to survive.
“Sorry. You don’t need me to tell you that.”
“Actually,” he smiles, “I did. Thank you.”
It feels like if you speak now, you’ll ruin the moment. But is it even a moment? You feel like it is, the way he’s staring into your soul feels like it is. But maybe this is just him, maybe he’s always been kind and reserved and you’re only just now getting to know him.
“So,” you break eye contact, hoping that might stop your heart hammering, “there’s only two of you?”
“No,” he shakes his head, his smile broadening, “there’s six vampires left in total. Me and Seungkwan tend to stick together. Joshua and Jeonghan keep to themselves mostly, they’re living somewhere in the south of France and spend their time lounging around their pool and sleeping with whoever they please, masking it all behind being wealthy art dealers. And then there’s Soonyoung and Pearl….”
“Pearl?” You squint at him, confused by the sudden name change.
“Hm,” he hums, smiling to himself, “Soonyoung’s wife. She recently decided that a truly organic way of life is the way forward and now they live in a yurt somewhere in South America. Her name changes every few decades, she’s happy I suppose, and that’s all that matters. They went through a lot together, she got changed into a vampire by the same bastard who created me. It took Soonyoung years to convince her to change him. They’d been childhood sweet hearts and were only a week off getting married when she changed. She agreed eventually, but she hated doing it.”
“It’s romantic,”
“It’s barbaric,” He says harshly, “to willingly change the person you love, to sentence them to eternity. I understand why she did it but I don’t condone it. It’s like giving someone hundreds of life sentences.”
“S-sorry.” You mumble, a little taken aback by how his attitude changed.
You’re sorry you upset him but honestly, it doesn’t seem that bad. He’s seen all the wonders of the world, he’s lived through history and he seems to have done it all with people he would consider his friends. You’re struggling to see what could be so bad, other than the whole drinking blood thing.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes, “it’s just it seems great and everything but you’ve no idea how lonely it is. Sure you make friends but they either die or you have to move away before they realise they’re aging and you aren’t.”
“Did you never meet anyone you loved?” The idea leaves a sour taste on your tongue but you’re not expecting a man who is nearly two thousand years old to never have been in love. You’re only thirty and you’ve got more ex’s than you’d care to admit to.
“I did,” he says somewhat shyly, “and it isn’t like I live like a nun, I sleep with people,” you try not to grimace at that admission, “but I always have to hold myself back, I can’t be myself around them and so it never lasts.”
“You’ve never told any of them?” Why you feel a little smug about that, you don’t know. It’s not like he’s willingly told you, you literally walked in on him drinking blood. He could hardly deny it.
“Nope,” he says standing up, “only you. Now, do you want to see all my cool stuff?” He says, raising his brows like he’s trying to entice you into something but all you’re trying to do is forget the ‘only you’ he tacked onto the end of his last answer, and tell yourself that it doesn’t make you special.
“I’d love to” you recover.
“Great, follow me.”
“This is all,” you stare at the portrait of Junhui, standing beside who he tells you is DaVinci, “I don’t even know what to say.”
You stare around the room in wonderment. The whole top floor of his penthouse is dedicated to everything he’s collected over the years. He had to put in about four sets of codes to open the door. Not that it looks peculiar from the outside, it looks like the top floor of any other fancy home would, perfectly painted walls, ornate furniture and large wooden doors. But it’s all just a facade, only one of the doors is real and behind the real one is treasures that you’d never thought you or anyone would ever see.
So far he’s shown you Ernest Hemingway’s lost suitcase which he swears he had nothing to do with actually stealing, he just happened to be at a bar in Paris when the man who had stolen it was boasting about it and how that man had then very sadly lost it. When Junhui had tracked down Earnest, as he called him because obviously he seems to know everyone personally, Earnest had said he didn’t want it back, it added an air of mystery to his name that would help his name and works be remembered far more than just the literature he’d had published. And so he forgot Junhui had ever told him he’d found it and Junhui now holds one of the most looked for mysteries in modern literature.
He has Shakespeare manuscripts, which apparently “Will” had given Junhui himself as thanks for helping him get home in time for his wife’s birthday. The way he spoke about him like he was just some friend that he’d lost touch with, chuckling to himself as he told you stories about how they’d meet up after performances and argue about which actor made the best Hamlet or whether the Globe was looking a bit shabby.
Looking through his bookcases was like looking through history, like seeing every character you’ve ever loved and known in their earliest form. No editing or altering that may have happened over the years. Your bookcases when you get home will look pretty shit when you walk in and you’re confronted with your battered copies of all his treasures.
“You’ve seen history. Like, you’ve seen words being created. Shakespeare invented almost 2000 words you know, or at least made them popular. And you were there, it’s just so……I don’t know…..big?” you look up at a bookshelf, eyes widening when you see what looks like an ancient, probably original written copy of Journey to The West.
You’ve spent the past hour, when you weren’t listening to Junhui telling you the stories of his life, wandering round the large room like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. And it is the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. But Junhui, he’s seen a lot of great things. But he thinks the greatest thing he’s ever seen in his whole long life is you in this room. The way you get excited when you spot something that you can’t believe you’re seeing, or the way your eyes widen every time he mentions someone in history that always sounded more like another book character than a real person.
He’d always thought you were beautiful, your whole aura lights up even the most boring of meetings and on the few occasions he’d spoken to you, he thought you were completely endearing. He did wonder whether there was something going on between you and Wonwoo. But then he saw Wonwoo put you in a headlock one day when you were arguing over who got the last piece of the brownie you’d bought, and that put the end to that idea. There was nothing romantic in that headlock. Or the way you bit his arm to get out of it. It didn’t matter anyway. Junhui made the decision long ago that he would never start a relationship with anyone, too many people get hurt. And he knew if he started something with you, it wouldn’t and couldn’t be a one time thing like so many of the flings he’s had over the past few centuries.
But then you caught him drinking blood and when he’d found you (having found your address by hacking the HR records he knows he shouldn’t have been looking in), the way you’d tried to fight him only warmed his heart. He saw your books, he felt how kind and warm you were with someone that you should’ve been scared of and he couldn’t help himself. He told himself this was just because he knew you’d appreciate everything he’d collected over the centuries, and that he was just excited to show someone everything, that wasn’t Seungkwan. Who had as much interest in this stuff as a bollard.
But he was playing with fire. And he knew it.
“He invented most of the words he’s credited for.”
He waits for you to realise what he’s said. And like clock work you freeze and whip around to face him.
“You didn’t invent words,” you scoff, “did you?” you ask slowly.
“Radiance.”
You stare at him. He invented a whole fucking word and he says it like it’s nothing? Sure, people have invented new terms before when new things are invented. But radiance is just an everyday word. Everyone knows it and everyone uses it.
“You invented the word radiance?”
“Mm-mm,” he nods, “Will wanted a word in All’s Well That Ends Well to describe the beauty of someone, and I thought about the fact it brings light when you’re around someone you love. Anyway, radius is Latin for beam. But you’re radius sounds almost insulting. So I suggested radiance and all’s well that ends well.” He shrugs, laughing at his own joke.
“Who were you thinking of when you invented it?” It’s none of your business, you don’t know why you’re asking, but you can’t help wanting to know and your mouth moves quicker than your head.
“No-one in particular. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who made me feel that way.”
“Didn’t?” You glance at his lips.
“Yeah. Didn’t.” He glances down at yours.
The air suddenly feels like you can’t breathe, there’s something drawing you to him even though you know you should be scared of him. But he must feel it too, he hasn’t moved away or broken the moment and yet neither of you move closer. It’s like you’re stuck in your place but wishing that he’d take the initiative and do what you want him to. You daren’t, you don’t know whether it would spark something fearsome in him. Although the idea of him biting you makes you weirdly excited but you try to push that thought to the back of your mind.
The sound of the buzzer for his elevator breaks you out of the moment, both of you jumping at the sound and crashing back down to reality.
“That’ll be the food,” he rushes off, “you take your time up here, I’ll get the food and plates. I’ll shout you when it’s all sorted.”
“Ok.” you say quietly, watching his back as he rushes off out of the room.
He felt it. You’re sure he did. But you don’t want to bring it up and ruin whatever this is and so you go back to pursuing his bookshelves. Every other find makes you more shocked than the last but you can’t shake what just happened and the moment you just shared. Because you are certain it was shared. It can’t have just been you that felt it.
About ten minutes later and you hear him bellowing from two floors below you. Clearly he’s not just got it in him to be quick but also damn loud too.
“That copy of To Kill A Mockingbird,” you start as you hop down the last two steps, feeling weirdly at home in this penthouse you’d never been in until today, “it’s not actually signed is it? Harper Lee barely signed any copies. If you were in Europe, how do you have a signed copy?”
He beams at you from the sofa as you wander over, your stomach growling at the sight of the noodles he’d ordered. He’s set it up on the coffee table so you can both sit on the floor to eat just like you would at home. It’s pretty easy to forget he’s a blood drinking vampire when he acts like any other person you know.
“I’ve lived in every country in the world at some point _____. And I met Harper when I was working at NASA. I went to Alabama to visit a friend, who happened to be friends with her and she was kind enough to sign a copy for me when I said I collected literature.”
You gawk at him, the drink he’d poured you half way to your mouth. But to be perfectly honest, you’re just pleased you haven’t dropped it all over yourself.
“N-nasa……..you met…..WHAT?!”
He tries not to laugh at you, if he’s honest he just wants to squeeze your cheeks because you’re so fucking cute, but he doesn’t.
“I was helping with the dimensions and initial plans for the rocket. Leonardo,” you huff at how he just references DaVinci like an old friend, “had a keen interest in aviation and he told me about some screw that could withstand high amounts of pressure, hundreds of years ago. I wrote to NASA, obviously not telling them where I'd learnt it, and they asked for my help for a month or so.”
“I thought I was cool because I went to school with a girl who has ten million followers on Instagram but shit,” you lean back against his sofa staring at the noodles.
“Hey, things change and what’s cool changes.” he shrugs, moving your noodles in front of you.
“Oh please, I bet you don’t even know what Instagram is and working on a rocket that went to the moon beats followers every day of the week.”
“I do know what it is, thank you very much,” he smiles as you both pick up your chopsticks, “and I will admit. The rocket is pretty cool.”
“And yet you didn’t know lol when I put it in that email?” You challenge playfully.
“Yeah, you did catch me off guard with that. How did you know?”
“Oh!” Shit. You can’t tell him that a large part of your day is spent watching him. And another large part is spent fantasising about what you’d do if you ever found yourself alone with him, “I just happened to look over as you checked the email on your phone, that’s all.”
You shove the noodles in your mouth as quickly as you can, trying to ignore how he seems to be watching you as you do, clearly not believing a word you said but he lets it go.
“Did you see the Austen?”
“Oh my god,” you wipe your mouth, hurriedly swallowing the food you were chewing, “yes! I can’t believe you have that! I never thought I’d see that, all three volumes of Pride and Prejudice. Well. First Impressions.” You pause, thinking about what you’ve just said, “if you’re about to tell me that it was you that made her change the name I think I will actually explode or something.”
“I’m not,” he laughs, taking a sip of his drink, “but I did meet her once.”
“What was she like?” You ask excitedly.
“She was headstrong,” he nods fondly, “but. She was sad, mostly. She seemed like she never really got what she wanted in life, like she was living through the women in her stories. But she was kind and clever, and told Seungkwan to stop being so moody when his horse had eaten his hat, so she’ll always be a hero in my eyes.”
“I’m pleased she was kind.” you sigh, “I always loved her books.I’m not sure I’d cope if I found out she was this awful human being that everyone hated,”
“Do you know who was a weirdo?”
“Who?” you ask, like he’s about to tell you some juicy gossip.
“Mary Shelley. Have you ever heard the story of…….”
“That she lost her virginity on her mother’s grave. Yeah, I've heard it but it can’t be……” Your words trail off when you see his face. “NO?!”
“Yep,” he nods, like he hates talking about it but loves it at the same time, “it’s true.”
“It wasn’t……you?”
“NO!!” He looks horrified, “It was Percy! Thank god they married each other. Pair of odd bods.” he shivers like the memory of them disgusts him.
“What the hell possessed them to do that?” You grimace.
“Fuck knows but they were pretty proud of it. He was married at the time too. Which in my opinion just makes it all so much worse. Those two caused chaos.”
“You don’t have Frankenstein then?” You chuckle, going back to your noodles.
“Oh I do, it’s a first edition, signed and everything. But it’s right up at the top where I don’t have to see it and be reminded of how much she scared me.”
“A vampire? Scared of a normal woman?”
“She was weird ok!” He laughs defensively.
You eat pretty quietly after that. Both of you quite content in each other’s company. The rest of the day is spent looking through more of his collection, him showing you coins and little treasures from every country and era he’s lived through, even describing exactly what it was like when they finally finished the great wall of China after centuries of work. But you don’t remember much after he awkwardly asked you if you wanted to watch a film, neither of you wanting to say goodbye just yet, because you fell asleep. Not a care in the world for the fact that you’d managed to well and truly fluster Junhui, when your head landed on his shoulder, for the first time in almost two thousand years.
The sound of pots and pans clanging around stir you awake from an absolutely bizarre dream in which you had to stop Wonwoo from fleeing with Jane Austen because she’d already said she’d marry you, even though gay marriage was hundreds of years off being made legal. It had ended pretty abruptly when presumably Junhui had moved a pan pretty heavily. But in your dream you’d pushed Wonwoo in front of a moving carriage because there was no well in hell he was taking your girlfriend.
You’ve no idea how and when you made it into this overly comfortable bed but you admit you’re in no rush to get out of it. Even in your clothes you’d arrived in yesterday, it’s still the most comfortable you think you’ve ever been in your whole life. But the smell of bacon draws you from your need to stay in the cocoon you’ve made for yourself and you begrudgingly get out of the bed.
Before you can even start to worry about the fact you’re imposing on his hospitality, not that you’d intentionally fallen asleep on him and presumably, if he was uncomfortable, he’d have woken you up and said it was time for you to go, you find a set of folded clothes, a note and even some toiletries.
Good morning! Or good night, depending on when you wake up. When you’re ready, I’ll cook us some breakfast. I’ve left some comfy clothes and some stuff to freshen up with (if you want to of course). Hope you slept well.
Junhui
Fuck, you really want to not read too much into the fact he’s lending you clothes and he doesn’t seem mad that you’d taken up one of his spare rooms, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel all giggly because he seems quite happy to have you here.
You shower and brush your teeth with what he's left you, not surprised that he’s left you only the best products on the market and quickly dry your hair once you’re in his sweat pants and t-shirt, noting that the t-shirt reads ‘I love books and I tolerate you’, and rush down the stairs. You get the impression you could spend years with Junhui and still not know everything about his life but damn you’ve enjoyed getting to know him. And even when he asked about your life, he seemed genuinely interested, like what you were telling him wasn’t the same old story he’s probably heard a thousand times before.
It takes you a second to get your bearings but you find the stairs pretty quickly and speed down them, slowing slightly at the bottom then he doesn’t think you’re over eager. You find him in the kitchen, where you presumed he was from the smell of bacon and clattering of pans, this time in shorts and hoody and once again looking like he’d give the best, most snuggly hugs. Not what most people would think of if they were spending time with a vampire but there’s just something about Junhui that seems to scream comfort to you.
“Good morning.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“Hey!” He smiles, spinning round with the pan, “I hope I didn’t wake you. All these years on the planet and I’ve still not mastered cooking really. Many have tried but I’ve still burnt the bacon.” he frowns into the pan.
“It’s fine. I like crispy bacon,” you grin at him, sitting on one of the stools when he tells you to sit down and it shouldn’t be long, “thank you for leaving these clothes out. And I’m sorry I fell asleep, I hope I’m not intruding. I will be out of your hair soon and I’ll wash these and bring them to work tomorrow.” You say happily, pouring yourself some apple juice he’d decanted into a jug.”
“Are you in a rush to get home?” He winces when rather dark bacon lands on the plate in front of you.
“Not really,” you shrug, “but I’m sure you have plans and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I do have plans,” he mumbles as he sits down next to you, “but I wondered if you wanted to come with me?”
“Sure.” you say, trying to eat the bacon without him noticing just how hard it is to chew.
“You don’t want to ask what we’re doing?” He jokes.
Shit. Now he thinks you’re over eager. But do you even care? You like him, he seems to like you, why shouldn’t you show him that you enjoy spending time with him?
“Sorry, sure, what were your plans?”
“There’s an exhibition of ancient Chinese literature at one of the galleries, I was hoping to check it out.”
“Compare your ancient Chinese literature with theirs?” You smirk knowingly.
“Exactly. And we could get dinner? If you’re not bored of me of course.”
“Junhui, I think if I found the hot vampire boss boring, then there’s no hope for me.”
You go back to buttering a slice of toast before you even realise what you’ve just said but when you do, your horror stricken eyes meet his wide smile.
“I-I didn’t mean…….wait no I’m not saying you’re not hot……oh god” you groan, hiding your head in your arm.
“Hey, I’ll take it. It’s not every day a sexy older woman calls you hot.”
You drop your toast. One because Junhui just called you sexy. But mainly because, what the hell does he mean ‘older woman'?!
“Older woman? You’re almost two thousand years old!”
“Yeah but when I was changed I was only 28. So technically you’re a cougar.”
“That would suggest this is something more than friends?”
He freezes, like he hadn’t thought this through but you just put that down to the fact that he’s not used to this. He said he’s only used to one night stands and things, maybe the beginnings of a relationship are odd to him after all this time.
“You done?” He stands up, taking his plate over to the dishwasher.
“I am,” you smile happily following him over and helping him clean up, “could we stop by my place so I can get changed?”
“You don’t want to go out in my t-shirt?” he smirks at you, “I’m insulted _____.”
You giggle, like joking and eating breakfast with Junhui is the most natural thing in the world. You could get used to this, and now you’ve made it clear that you like him, and he seems to like you too all you feel is excitement for what’s to come. The day passes in a blur of laughter and Junhui being very smug that some of the “ancient relics” were actually reprints that no-one has noticed, before you have dinner under the stars at an open top restaurant and he drops you home. Now having the courage to hug you, not just awkwardly pat your arm like he did two days prior. And you go to sleep full of happiness and excitement for this flourishing relationship.
For the past month you’ve spent every weekend with Junhui. Even at the office you message each other and on a couple of occasions he’s eaten lunch with you and Wonwoo. They both discovered they have a shared interest in comic books and you started to worry that Junhui would kick you to the curb and decide Wonwoo was the one for him.
Wonwoo nearly fell to his knees and proposed when he visited Junhui’s apartment one night after work and he saw he has every edition of his favourite series. Junhui hasn’t told him he’s a vampire and thankfully the comic books are in his TV room, so Wonwoo just thinks the top floor is more bedrooms and has no idea that Junhui is hoarding some of the world’s greatest treasures up there. You're certain Wonwoo genuinely wouldn't care if Junhui casually told him he was a vampire, he's the most laid back man you've ever met. It’d be a quick “cool, about those comic books" and he'd never mention it again.
But up until you Junhui had never told anyone. And he only told you because he had to. So you don't want to push it.
You did worry that you were spending too much time with him, that you were over staying your welcome whenever you went over to his place. But it was almost like he was actively finding reasons for you to stay and, most of the time, he was messaging you first and finding more and more reasons to talk to you. Not that you minded. You could spend every waking second of the day with him and never get bored.
But there was one thing that was playing on your mind. You didn’t know what this all was. It felt like the beginnings of a relationship, at times it felt like it was a relationship, he would always make sure you’d eaten and wish you good morning or good night, you felt like you were going on dates.
They definitely felt like dates. But then he’d never even held your hand or made any attempt to kiss you or anything. Though you’re certain he wants more, every time you find yourself saying goodbye to each other, he spends more time looking at your lips than he does looking you in the eye. It cannot just be friends. You can't have gotten it so wrong that he thinks this is just friendship.
It’s annoying you but you’re trying to be understanding. There’s presumably so many different things he has to think about to even be around humans the way he is. He must always feel a constant urge to bite, to taste blood and you don’t want to make that worse for him. And so at the moment you’re content to just see where this goes, you love spending time with him and he seems to love spending time with you, what more do you even need right now?
A message flashes up on your screen as you’re editing, the sight of Vernon’s name making your stomach drop.
Vernon: OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN
You: What are you talking about? I’ve told you Vernon, I’m not getting high with you
Vernon: Not that. The book retreat!! I can’t believe you agreed to it, honestly your bosses seemed dubious but Junhui just told me!! Thank you for saying yes, me and my creative juices need this. Fuck three months in Peru!!!! Get packing bestie!!!!!!
You stare at your screen. What the fuck is he talking about? He’s high. He must be. Because there’s no way the company would allow that long an extension for him or his juices. And three months? Away from home? And what the hell is in Peru that’s going to make him write anymore than his creative trip to Thailand or Alaska.
This whole thing seems like bullshit but the one thing that’s making it worse? “Junhui just told me”. Does he agree with this? He wants you gone for three months? But you were just sat daydreaming about the date he has planned for the weekend. He was going to take you to see some gardens that he’d found years ago that have the rarest flowers in Asia. And yet now you find out he’s shipping you off to Peru?
This isn’t right. Before you can even re-read the messages again to make sure what you’ve read is right, you’re carried through the office on a wave of anger and hurt, and within seconds you’re knocking on the door to Junhui’s office. You don’t even wait for him to say come in, what’s the point, it’s not like you can find him doing anything worse than the last time walked into his office.
You find him reading through a manuscript but he puts it down pretty quickly when he sees you.
“Hey! I didn’t hear you knock, sorry I was miles away in this……”
“I knocked.” You interrupt, not liking him insinuating that you hadn’t.
“I didn’t say you didn’t knock _____.” He frowns, he's never seen you pissed off. It doesn't suit and he doesn't know what he's done to cause it, but he hates it.
“You’re sending me away?”
Junhui stands up, not having realised Vernon would open his big mouth already.
“I’m not sending you. Vernon asked could you go with him, he said he needed you to keep him out of trouble.”
“So you’re sending me away?” You press again.
“_____ this is your job.” He sighs, walking around his desk and leaning against it in front of you.
“He’s been on hundreds of writer’s retreats and I’ve never had to go then! Why do I have to go now? I’d be gone for three months! You’d be ok with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be ok with that?”
You stare at him, the only thing you feel is your heart cracking and your finger frantically picking the skin near your thumb nail, because at the moment, it’s the only thing reminding you that this isn’t all a nightmare. And sadly is your reality.
“Because we’re…….we’re,” you want to say because we’re a couple but now you just feel fucking stupid for even letting yourself think that.
“We’re friends _____. Friends can go three months without seeing each other.”
“Friends? We call everything over the past month being friends?!”
“Nothing’s happened between us _____. I’ve never given any inclination that it was more.” He says it kindly, too kindly. Like he’s rehearsed this or something.
But all you feel is panic. You can’t have gotten this so wrong? You know what you felt and you know that he felt it too! You’ve seen him speak to multiple women in this office, he never talks to their fucking lips, he doesn’t even spend time with them more than he actually has to.
But then has all this just been because you know about him? That you’re the only person who’s ever found out he’s a vampire and he’s felt like he had to be kind to you to make sure you didn’t tell anyone? He’s just been tolerating you because he didn’t want you to blow his secret. It cannot be that. You can't fake how happy he was when you were together.
“That’s not true,” you say quietly, staring anywhere but at him, though maybe if you did you’d see the pain in his eyes, “I know what I feel Junhui. Has this all been a lie? You don’t even like spending time with me?” You look at him, his heart breaking when he sees tears welling in your eyes.
“I do like spending time with you _____. Like I would any other friend. STOP DOING THAT!” He makes you jump when his voice suddenly raises and there’s an anger in it you didn’t think you’d ever hear from him.
You glance down at where his eyes are fixed but all that’s there is your hand. You weren’t doing anything to warrant that outburst.
“So you want me to go? For three months?” You ignore his anger and demand an answer.
“I want you to do your job,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “he needs to get this novel finished and you’re going with him. End of discussion.”
“You can’t just do that! You’d throw this away, you’d…….”
But before you can finish your sentence you feel like all the air has been knocked out of you as your back hits the office wall, Junhui painfully close to you caging you in. You say Junhui, this isn’t your Junhui, it’s not the man that two weeks ago tried to make you cupcakes and failed spectacularly.
No, this Junhui could only be described as a monster. His face is so close to yours but you feel no warmth, his breath is like ice and when you focus on his face, your blood turns as cold as he is. His eyes are blood red, almost shimmering in their sockets, his skin pale and with fangs that send a wave of horror through your body.
His breath is ragged and even though you try to wiggle out of his hold, whimpering slightly at how the man you thought you were falling for has turned into something from your nightmares, he stops you, his body rigid against yours like a tonne weight, not a normal man.
“J-junhui, please,” you whimper, trying to push him off but he just stays staring at you like you’re his next victim, “you said you d-didn’t do this. This i-isn’t you Junhui.”
“You don’t know who I am,” he spits, no care in his voice, not like there used to be, “I told you to stop fucking doing that, why can’t you listen?!”
You glance down at your hand, every inch of your skin prickling and yet a numbness over takes you when you see what he's talking about.
Blood.
Your blood.
Where you’d been frantically picking at the skin near your thumb, a habit your mom always said you should stop and now it’s going to be the thing that drives Junhui to do something he hasn’t done in centuries. You get the sudden urge to run, to bolt out of this office and never look back and yet it’s like your feet are cemented to the spot. It’s not like you could move anyway, he’s got you trapped.
He’s got you trapped as blood trickles down your thumb and you get the impression that he’s not going to be able to hold back much longer.
“I’m sorry,” you cry softly, trying to wipe your thumb on your skirt, “I didn’t m-mean to. Please Junhui, this is me, it’s _____, you can’t do this. You haven't hurt anyone in years! You said you regretted ever hurting anyone!”
“But they,” he takes a deep breath, almost thriving off the scent of your fresh blood, causing you to whimper and try to cling to the wall, “didn’t walk in here demanding things and not doing as they were told.”
The way he’s speaking, the way he’s leering at you, it’s like being in the worst horror film you’ve seen. Only normally when Wonwoo makes you watch those, you can cover your eyes and pretend you’re not there. But you are here. And you can’t get away from the monster in front of you.
“I-I didn’t demand. I got it wrong, I was wrong. I’ll go to Peru. I’ll go wherever you want me to. Just please Junhui, let me go.” You plead, tears streaming and body shaking.
“You’ve ruined everything you know,” he hisses with his head in your neck, his lips just millimeters away from him getting everything he needs and you never taking another breath, “I was happy. Or as happy as I could be and then you,” his teeth graze your skin, “you come barging in here and fuck my life up. And now you try to tell me this isn’t me?” his teeth stop, the tips of fangs weighing on your skin, “This is why you shouldn’t be here. I can’t be in a relationship, I can’t give you what you think you want, this is me _____. This is my reality the second I let you in too far and you suddenly hurt yourself or fall and graze your knee. This,” his teeth scrape down your skin as you sob and try to lean away from him, “is the reality of your life if you don’t fucking leave me alone.”
You can’t even speak, your breathing is heavy, your body is quivering in fear. It would only take a second and he’d taste you, he’d kill you.
“Get out, get out of the office. Out of the fucking building. Just don’t come back in before you leave with Vernon.”
He turns away from you and your heart breaks. You caused this. He told you to stop and you didn’t.
“I-I’m sorry Junhui, please………”
“GET OUT!!!”
You flinch and rush off out of the office. Ignoring the confused stares from your co-workers and how Wonwoo is already making his way over to you. You just grab your coat and bag and sprint out of the building not even able to decide if you’re more hurt by him dismissing the past month or relieved that you’ve managed to get away from him before he did something that he’d regret and you wouldn’t have survived.
Junhui can’t concentrate. Even with heightened senses and rocket-like reflexes, he’s been reading the same manuscript for three days and not a single word is making any sense to him. He’s never felt like this, sure he’s probably felt like this but if he has, he doesn’t remember it. He’s had hundreds of people in his life die, it’s just the circle of life, people are born and people die. When his mother died, he was distraught but even that didn’t feel like this. She was old and it was her time and although it broke him, he could make sense of it.
But he can’t make sense of what he’s feeling at the moment.
It’s been three days since he told you to leave the office and not come back until you’d been away with Vernon. And for three days he’s felt pain like he’s never felt before. His chest aches and he hasn't eaten, even Seungkwan dropped by yesterday when Junhui hadn’t been to collect his usual supply of blood. Seungkwan was expecting a lot of things when he made it to Junhui’s apartment but his friend of almost two thousand years, crying and watching sad movies was definitely not one of them. He told him everything, poured his heart out and Seungkwan’s response? “You’re a fucking idiot.”
But that’s easy for him to say, he seems to be able to have relationships for a few years and then carry on like nothing ever happened. Junhui couldn’t do that. Not with you. In the month you’d be in his life fully, not just as an employee, he’d fallen in love with you. He knew he had because he’d never felt like this in his life. He just wanted to be around you all the time, the sound of your laugh made even his cold heart warm and when you talked about what you loved, it just made him hope that one day, you’d look like that when you spoke about him too.
A week ago he nearly kissed you. You’d been at his place, not even doing anything exciting, just sitting on his sofa, your feet tucked under his leg as you both sat reading. He’d noticed you had a habit of telling him the little excerpts of what you were reading that had made you laugh or meant something to you and, in his opinion, that was one of the most intimate things you could do. To want to share even the smallest of things that made you feel even the smallest emotion showed him just how much you cared about his opinion but also showing him that you want him to see what’s important to you, even if it’s the littlest of things.
The sun setting behind you as you giggled quoting the line of your book, you just looked so radiant that it took everything in him to not throw caution to the wind and finally kiss you, just like he’d wanted to do when you were trying to fight him off with The Chronicles of Narnia.
But that night served as a warning. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let himself be tempted no matter how much he felt like he needed you. How would he go on for eternity when you’d gone? He wasn’t scared of stopping loving you when you grew old, he knew he’d love you no matter how old you got, you’d still be you. But what would happen to Junhui? Once he’d given you everything and he had to go on forever knowing his one true love would never be with him again.
So when Vernon was moaning about writing retreats he saw an opportunity to get you away from him for a while. The idea hurt him, it is hurting him, but it would hurt more in the long run and it would give you a chance to meet someone else, to live your life without having to deal with everything that comes with him being a vampire. You deserved to live and to be happy and he knew at some point, he’d end up hurting you.
Though he’s not sure any of that would even matter anymore, you’d surely never want to see him again even after you’ve come back in a few months time. The fear in your eyes when you saw the worst side of him will stay with him forever more, the tears and way you flinched away from him broke him. He’s not even sure why his reaction was so visceral. He can be around blood, over the centuries he’s perfected his self restraint meaning that he can be around even the worst injuries. But that one small tear on your skin triggered something in him that he hasn’t experienced in over a thousand years. Seungkwan said it was probably how the mixture of needing to send you away, the reality of sending you away and how the confusion he was feeling at loving someone, truly loving someone, was playing with his emotions. That one drop of blood was the straw that broke the camel’s back and the end result was him terrifying the last person on earth he’d want to hurt.
You’d tried to call him. Though he’s no idea why. He’s no idea why you even said sorry to him before you ran out of his office. It was him who should’ve been apologising, not you.
A knock on his office door shakes him from his thoughts and for a few hopeful seconds he thinks it’s you, that you’ve resorted to barging into his office again just like last time because he’s ignoring your calls. But who is he kidding? You won’t want to be in the same room as him again. Not now.
“Come in!” He didn’t think anyone was left in the office, let alone needing to speak to him.
“What the fuck have you done to her?!”
“Wonwoo? What? Done to who?” Junhui stands up and marches round his desk as Wonwoo storms into his office.
“Oh come on, you know who. Last time I saw her she was running out of here, crying and fucking terrified! And now she won’t answer her phone, she won’t open her door. That isn’t _____!! What the fuck did you do?! I swear if you’ve hurt so much as a hair on her head, I’ll fucking kill you!!”
“I wouldn’t hurt her!”
Wonwoo scoffs, so close to Junhui that he can feel his breath against his skin, fists clenched like he’s ready to fight.
“Oh so it’s just a coincidence that she runs out of your office and now she won’t talk to anyone? You’ve done something. I know you have. I really thought you were better than this, all those fucking months she’s been hoping something would happen and you’ve broken her!!”
So you’d liked him longer than he even knew? Fuck that just makes him feel even worse. You liked him and even when you found out the worst secret you could, it still didn’t change your opinion on him. All it does is confirm you’re everything he thought you were and more, to not let even something like what’s wrong with him affect your opinion of him, just shows what a remarkable woman you are. He just hopes Wonwoo isn’t right. He hopes he hasn’t broken you.
He racks his brain for how to get out of this but all he can think to do is tell the truth. It would mean telling someone else and someone else knowing his secret, another chance that his life as he knows it would come crashing down. But Wonwoo isn’t going to let this go and the last thing he needs is someone saying he in some way is a man who would harm a woman, or anyone for that matter.
“Sit down.”
“Fuck off. What did you do to my friend?!”
“Wonwoo!! Sit. Down.”
Wonwoo must sense some sort of danger in Junhui’s eyes because he actually does as he’s told and sits down. For once in his life.
“I don’t know how to start.” Junhui sighs, hoping the ceiling might have some answers.
“I don’t care where you start, just get to the part where you hurt _____ and then I can try and fix it.”
“When she came to show me the manuscripts that you’d mentioned in the meeting…..”
“That was ages ago,” Wonwoo interrupts angrily, “I want to know what’s happened now!”
“You will! Just listen to me! Please!”
Wonwoo just glares, his arms folded and waiting to hear what any of this could have to do with what’s wrong with you.
“When she came in, I didn’t hear her knocking. When she found me I was,” he sighs, knowing with every admission of what he is, he risks a little more of his safety, “I was drinking blood.”
Wonwoo just stares at him and Junhui wonders if he actually said it out loud. It sounded like he said it outloud. But Junhui imagined a lot of reactions. Wonwoo just having a blank face was not one of them and it’s unsettling him to be honest.
“Did you…..”
“I heard you,” Wonwoo booms with nothing but disdain, “what does that have to do with what happened three days ago?”
“You’re not going to ask why I was drinking it?”
“To be honest, I don’t give a flying fuck. I want to know what it has to do with _____.”
“I’m a vampire.” He says bluntly.
“Well I would hope so if you’re drinking blood. At least it means you’re not a weirdo.”
Junhui just stares at him. How can one man be so indifferent to finding out that not only do vampires exist, his boss and new found friend is one? Junhui could only dream of being that easy going. You’d told him that Wonwoo was a chill guy. But there’s being a chill guy and then whatever the fuck Wonwoo is.
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? I don’t care what you are, man, I just want to know what’s happened to my best friend!”
“I said she needed to go with Vernon for three months to Peru.”
“As what? Punishment for her finding out? You only started hanging out after she found out, why has something happened now?”
“Fuck, it’s better starting from the beginning,” Junhui sighs, throwing himself on the sofa next to Wonwoo, “she ran off when she saw me and when I got to her place, she tried to fight me off with garlic and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.” Junhui smiles fondly at the memory.
“That woman,” Wonwoo shakes his head with a look of either disdain or disbelief, possibly a mixture of both Junhui thinks, “she has no fight or flight skills. She did self defence for like two weeks and decided she’d just negotiate out of a dangerous situation and that fighting wasn’t for her.”
Junhui can’t help but smile to himself, even through the pain. He can imagine you in the classes, deciding there and then that it wasn’t for you, even remembering how you’d tried to negotiate a safety buffer between the two of you when he’d first entered your apartment. Fuck he’s way too down bad for you. This is all too much.
“Even after she found out, after the initial shock, she still managed to empathise with what it must be like, to be two thousand years old and everything that comes with it.”
“Huh,” Wonwoo huffs, glaring out the corner of his eye.
“What” Junhui frowns.
“Two thousand, it’s just not that impressive,” he shrugs, “I thought you’d be older.”
Junhui blinks at him. If he’s honest he’s pretty fucking pissed that out of the two people he’s told, one had messed with his heart more than anyone ever has and the other has basically just said that he’s disappointing!
“But that doesn’t explain what happened the other day, unless…….Did you try to bite her?!”
“No! I mean, fuck!” he wipes his face his hands, “I love her. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone but I can’t be with her, I can’t ruin her life and I can’t live for an eternity without her, when she’s gone. So I acted like we were just friends, even when she was trying to tell me it was more and that she couldn’t be away for three months. I thought hurting her now was better than hurting her more later on. But she kept picking her fucking thumb even when I told her to stop and she made it bleed and I lost control. For the first time in centuries I wanted to bite someone. I didn’t. But I wanted to. And she saw me how I never wanted her to, I was seconds away from biting her Wonwoo.”
“But you didn’t?” He needs to check and Junhui gets that.
“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, “but I scared her, she was fucking trembling and pleading and still all I wanted to do was bite her.”
“If you love her, could you not just turn her into what you are?”
“You think it’s that easy?” Junhui looks at Wonwoo incredulously, “I’d be taking away her life Wonwoo, I’d be sentencing her to a life never ending.”
“But,” Wonwoo frowns, “surely if you have a life of eternity together then it’s not so bad. Plus you could turn me too, I’m a hoot!”
For the first time in days, Junhui laughs a little. Not a lot. But a little is better than nothing. It passes too quickly though, the reality of what turning someone into a vampire actually means, stopping any small amount of joy he might feel even for the briefest moment.
“It’s like murder Wonwoo. I haven’t fed off people since I was four hundred or so years old. I wouldn’t even know if I could stop once I’d started. I couldn’t cope with that, if I couldn’t help myself and I ended up losing her.”
“So your solution was to send her away for three months? What was that even going to achieve Junhui?”
“She might’ve met someone,” Junhui shrugs, not even believing what he’s saying.
“You’ve met _____,” Wonwoo looks at him dubiously, “she isn’t the kind of person to just fall out of love with someone. She loves with her whole heart and she’s been wanting you for a lot longer than you know. If her finding out this,” he gestures his hands at Junhui, “didn’t scare her off, why would being away from you for three months do anything?”
“It was the only thing I could think of. I can’t do it Wonwoo. To her or me.”
“Fucking idiot.” He scoffs and shakes his head.
Junhui just wishes people would see what he’s trying to say, why the fuck does everyone think its so easy?! To just take the life out of someone?!
“You know it’s not tha……….” But Wonwoo’s phone ringing cuts him off.
“Hello?”
Wonwoo’s face changes from indifference to horror and Junhui is immediately filled with a feeling of dread. Because if Wonwoo shows so much indifference when being confronted with an actual vampire, nothing good could’ve gotten that reaction from him.
“Come on,” he rushes when he hangs up his phone and runs to the office door.
“Why?”
“It’s _____. Just hurry the fuck up, we need to get to the hospital now.”
To say your head is throbbing would be an understatement, it feels like someone’s using your head as a bass drum and you’re not even sure you can open your eyes. But the sound of someone repeatedly saying your name makes you panic, had you drunkenly called Wonwoo? Perhaps keeping your eyes closed would be the better option, you don’t need one of his lectures about how he wasn’t put on this earth to be your nurse maid. Something he refuses to listen to when he has a cold and you insist on giving him the same speech.
You don’t even remember coming back from the store, you remember going to the store. You’d just finished packing for three long months in the depths of hell with Vernon and decided what the fuck, you don’t have anything to do for the two days until you have to leave. You were going to get drunk, watch Twilight and berate Bella for even going near a vampire, but then at least her vampire admitted his feelings. Perhaps if you find a nice werewolf, he might be more inclined to not try and gaslight you into thinking that you’re just friends.
All you want to do is stew in your hangover and yet some prick just will not stop saying your name……..
“______ can you hear me?! Fuck, where the hell is that doctor?!”
Doctor? For a hangover. That seems somewhat extreme, even for a drinking lightweight like you.
“Wh…..” you try to speak but even trying makes your head hurt, “Jun……” What are you thinking of? Of course it’s not Junhui, that’s just your fantasies talking.
“Oh that’s very nice,”
You know that voice. You’d sadly know Wonwoo’s voice anywhere but you just can’t seem to come round enough to give him a piece of your mind.
“_____? Can you hear me?”
That is a voice you don’t recognise. What the hell has Wonwoo done? He’s surely not invited a group of people round to deal with your drunken ass?
“_____ try to open your eyes for me.” Well that seems to be easier said than done, because it feels like your eyelids are being weighed down by bricks. “Take it slow and open them,”
You don’t know who this demanding ass is but can he not see you’re trying to open your eyes?! Fucking bossy. God knows where Wonwoo has found him but he can damn well leave your apartment as soon as you can hurl yourself out of bed.
You manage to open them, the lights far brighter than you remember your bedroom lights being. And in fact you don’t remember your ceiling looking like the one you’re blinking into focus at all.
A massive head looms over you and you flinch, the last face you had so close was that of a monster that up until a few days ago you’d have sworn you loved. Though you’re still fairly certain you do. Hence the need to drink and shout at Bella Swan to get as far away from Edward as possible.
“Can you hear me?”
Why is this man treating you like you’re an idiot?
“Obviously.” You rasp and hear Wonwoo snort. But when you try to move your head and glare at him, it feels like you’ve been surgically attached to whatever you’re lying on.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’m not twelve,” you croak out, your voice sounding much weaker than you remember.
To his credit, the man looming over you chuckles, but holds his hand up again.
“I’m a doctor. You’ve been unconscious for two days, could you help me out and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
Unconscious?! And for two days?! Fuck you need to find Vernon, you need to catch your flight. Or maybe you have caught your flight, perhaps Vernon had finally persuaded you to get high with him and now you’ve embarrassingly over done it and this nice Peruvian doctor is trying to help you. But then why would Wonwoo be here? If they’ve made him come and get you all the way from Peru, you’ll never here the fucking end of it.
“Three.”
“Good. I’m just going to shine a light in your eye, if you could follow my finger for me?”
You do as he says, hoping the quicker he’s done, the quicker you can find out what the hell happened.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“I went to the convenience store down the street and now I’m here. Wherever here is.” You say slowly, barely even hearing yourself from how hoarse your voice is.
“Ok,” he nods, looking you over, “we’ve done scans and we don’t think there’s any lasting damage. We were a little worried about your hearing but clearly, that’s fine. We need to keep you in for a couple more days and then you’ll need constant supervision for a week or so after that. But if you have no problems whilst you’re still here, I’ll be happy to discharge you in two days..”
“What happened though?” You try to sit up, but note once again that you can’t.
“Oh,” the doctor leans towards you, “you have a neck brace on, as I say you don’t have any lasting damage and no broken bones so if you can promise to make no sudden movements, I can take that off.”
“Take it off please.” You can’t stand feeling like you’re trapped.
“No problem,” he gently undoes it, “do you want the bed up a little?”
“Please,”
He presses the button on your bed and you slowly rise. But it’s as you’re edging further up, the room coming into view, you feel like someone's knocked all the air out of your lungs and you’d actually rather be lowered back down again. The last person you need to see is him. Dealing with Wonwoo will be bad enough.
“Do I have to sit up?” you try to ignore the two men sitting looking panicked, “I think actually I’d be better fully reclined,” you try to reach for the button but your arm feels like lead and you just wince, “don’t you think I’d be better lying down? Perhaps some sedatives to knock me out again? My head feels like it’s been hit by a bus.”
“It was a car.” Wonwoo says as he marches over to you, looking more pissed than you’ve ever seen him, “Don’t you ever fucking worry me like that again!”
He launches himself around you, your whole body aching from the impact of it and all you can do is pat his back gently, never having had a hug from Wonwoo. Apart from when his childhood cat died but he’d insisted that wasn’t a hug, it was just he needed a little help standing up.
“This is weird.” you mumble, still awkwardly patting his back.
“I don’t care. I thought you were dead, you moron.”
“Charming.” It's only then though that you realise what he said, “wait, I was hit by a car? I wasn’t drunk?”
“Why would you be drunk?” He pulls back, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“I was going to the convenience store. I was going to watch a film and get drunk,”
“Very classy.” He smirks, perching on the side of your bed. “You must’ve been on your way there though, you didn’t have anything with you as far as the paramedics were aware. The guy was speeding, the cops have arrested him but you don’t have to worry about that now. We came straight here when the emergency room called.”
“We?”
“Er,” Wonwoo stands up and shows you that the other man sitting in the corner of the room wasn’t a figment of your imagination. “Yeah, I was in Junhui’s office when I got the call. We both came straight here.”
“Why are you here?” You try to say it like his presence doesn’t bother you, like the last time you’d seen him hadn’t broken your heart.
“I wanted to check if you were ok.”
Hearing his voice makes you feel like it’s repairing a little of your broken body, just by how much comfort it brings you. But he said you were wrong, that this was all one sided and so you will yourself to stay strong.
“Well I am. You can go now.”
“_____.” Wonwoo says softly, “he’s not even been home since we got here two days ago. Even when I went to change and shower at home, he stayed with you.”
“I don’t care Wonwoo. You wouldn’t get it.”
“I know he’s a vampire.” He says bluntly.
You stare at him, your head now not only throbbing, but spinning.
“H-how? I mean,” you panic remembering the doctor who definitely shouldn’t be hearing this, “h-he doesn’t mean vampire. He’s not well, he’s a bit odd really, he just makes things up for……..”
“You don’t have to cover for him or Junhui. I’m Seungkwan.” He offers you his hand to shake.
And you do shake his hand, not that you can speak, your expression is more like a fish than anything else. Your mouth opening and closing with no clue of what to say now you’re confronted with yet another vampire.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Good.” You say stupidly, your brain really not firing on all cylinders, and thankfully Seungkwan just chuckles and takes a seat next to Junhui.
“How do you know he's a vampire?” You rush to ask.
“I went to ask……”
“Demand.” Junhui interrupts, smirking a little at the glare Wonwoo sends him.
“I went to ask what the hell had happened to you. He was the last one who’d seen you and you looked so upset when you left the office that day. And you’re so fucking stubborn, there’s no way you didn’t hear me banging on your door.” He scolds you.
“I wanted some alone time,” you sniff, “am I not allowed that?”
“You don’t have to cover for me. They both know what happened, how I lost control.” Junhui interrupts.
“I don’t care about you losing control. And I don’t want you here. I have enough friends, I don’t need another one.” The recollection of him telling you that this whole thing had been nothing more than friendship still leaves a sting in your heart and him being here just makes you feel fucking stupid all over again.
“_____ please,”
“I don’t understand why you’re here. Friends can go three months without seeing each other,” you try to mimic his voice even though yours is still croaky, “why even bother coming to the hospital?”
“Because I thought I’d lost you!” He stands up, voice pleading and tears threatening to fall.
“Have I shown you my espresso machine in my office Wonwoo?” Seungkwan gets up from his seat quickly.
“Er,” Wonwoo looks between you and Junhui, “no! But I’d love to see it! I love coffee!”
“Don’t you dare!” You try to shout after him as they both rush to the door, “Wonwoo come back here! You can’t just leave me like this!”
But it’s no use. They’ve gone. So much for caring about you, if they know how he lost control then it’s pretty shitty behaviour to leave your bruised body in his care. Though you’re not scared of him, not really. He couldn’t help his reaction to the blood and even though, yes you were terrified when you got home, that subsided pretty quickly. The only thing you really felt was embarrassed that he clearly didn’t feel the same as you. That you’d thought it safe that you were both on the same page and instead he just fobbed you off with that friends bullshit.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“Not physically maybe.” You try to avoid looking at him. “I’m alive. You can ease whatever guilty conscience you might’ve had and go home.”
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
You just hum and nod, not looking at him and sniffling as tears start to cascade slowly down your cheeks.
“I’m not normally like that around blood, I can normally control myself.”
“So this is somehow my blood’s fault?!”
“What? No! I was just trying to say that doesn’t normally happen, I’m not a……threat….like that, I guess.”
“I never thought you were. And I still don’t. So you can go. Tell Vernon I’ll get the first flight I can.”
“I’ve already sent someone else with him, not that he really needs anyone,”
“Right,” you scoff, “now I’ll be no trouble from my death bed, he conveniently doesn’t need anyone to babysit him.” You try to fold your arms but everything aches, which just makes you want to cry even more.
“I hate seeing you cry.” He says it before he can even stop himself, you can tell that much from the way he slightly panics that he’s said it. He’s always so certain in what he says, something you suppose comes from years of simply being alive and knowledge that comes with that.
“I’m trying not to.” You sniffle, trying to remain stoic but failing miserably.
This feels like the worst break up you’ve ever been through and yet it’s completely one sided according to him, just a friendship that technically doesn’t have to end. But you couldn’t keep spending time with him, every second you’ve already spent with him has taken a little of your heart as the clock ticked by. It would just hurt too much. You know it would.
“Please just go Junhui. I feel humiliated enough as it is and now I’ve literally been hit by a car, I don’t think I could get any more pathetic.” You pick at a stray piece of cotton on the blanket covering you, hoping he’ll just go quietly.
“I can’t,” he looks almost sheepish and you narrow your eyes at him, “you’re staying at my place for the week you need to be supervised.”
“WHAT?!” You try to sit up but your woozy head stops you and before you know it Junhui has you in his arms and he’s making sure you settle back on the bed. “You can’t,” you try to get your breath because somehow moving even the smallest amount has winded you, “you can’t just decide that.”
“I didn’t. Not on my own anyway. I mean, I suggested it and Seungkwan and Wonwoo agreed.”
“Oh well you should’ve said that sooner! You’ll let me know who I need to vote for in the next election and how you’d like me to have my hair cut won’t you! Chauvinistic shit heads.” You huff.
He scowls at you but you don’t care. How dare they just make decisions for you!
“Wonwoo says that Mingyu?” he checks the name of Wonwoo’s roommate with you, you begrudgingly nodding, “has taken up DJing so you couldn’t go there, him blasting music is hardly going to help a head injury. All your other friends, he said you’d hate staying with. And I’m told,” he smirks a little, “that you’d throw a fit if we told you that you had to go and stay with your parents.”
“No, I'm not having them fussing over me. Once they had me, they’d never let me leave. I love them but they would hyperventilate at the idea of having their baby back home, as they’d say. No.” You shake your head adamantly, ignoring the way it hurts, “I can’t go there.”
“Then sadly, the only option is my place.”
“Sadly? Fuck,” you huff sadly, “just let me go home. I’ll call Wonwoo if there’s any problems.”
“No,” he rushes to correct you, “I didn’t mean sadly for me. I meant for you. It was my idea for you to come to my place, even before Wonwoo gave us other options.”
“But you’ll be at work anyway. I may as well just go home. And I don’t want to be around you.”
You ignore the way his face drops at that.
“I swear I don’t usually lose control like that _____!”
“I don’t care if you show your fangs or threaten to bite me, I don’t give a fuck about that. I like you Junhui,” there’s no sense of beating about the bush, not in the circumstances, “and I think you know I do. And I get that you don’t see me as more than a friend but I don’t think I can be around you knowing that this whole thing has been so one sided. I was certain, so certain you felt the same and I feel like an idiot.” Your voice gets quieter as you trail off, your stomach in knots of embarrassment.
Junhui just wants to shake you and tell you that you’re like no woman he’s ever met, that he thinks, no he knows, you’re the love of his life. It’s breaking him that you think he doesn’t feel the same as you, but it’s the safest option for both of you. He knows it is.
“We don’t really have an option. You need someone to watch you, I’ve already told the office I won’t be in and I’ll stay out of your way if you want. I’ll give you a bell or something to ring in emergencies but other than that, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Or I could just go home.” You press again.
“Seungkwan won’t discharge you if he thinks you’ll be on your own. So unless you want to stay in the hospital, where I’ll be staying anyway if you’re here,” he says sternly, “then you’re staying at my place.”
“Fucking ridiculous.” You turn away and miss Junhui’s little smile when he realises you’ve given up the fight and he’ll be able to make sure you’re safe and cared for. Much to your disgust.
You knew you could be stubborn. In fact you were certain there were few people in this world more stubborn than you. But it turns out there is someone much more stubborn than you. Junhui. Because no matter how much you ignored him and no matter how much you pleaded with Wonwoo and even Seungkwan, who you didn’t even know, to come and stay at your place, then you wouldn’t need to go to Junhui’s, he still refused to leave your bedside. Even when he had to use the bathroom, he used the one supplied in your private room (the perks of knowing one of the top doctors in the hospital is a vampire) and whenever it came to food, he’d already ordered something to be delivered to the hospital.
Wonwoo would turn up around the time the food had been delivered and you all ate together like one big, slightly dysfunctional family. Junhui would try to talk to you, you’d insist on talking passively aggressively through Wonwoo who would then try and ignore you, and Seungkwan would simply sit and enjoy the drama of it all.
But now you’re two days into your stay at Junhui’s penthouse and your resolve is crumbling along with your heart. Because he truly is the most caring man you’ve ever met. Each morning before you wake up he creeps into your room and leaves your pain medication and a glass of water by your bed, makes sure you’ve got clean perfectly folded clothes to put on, takes your worn clothes and puts them in the laundry and he even brushed and dried your hair when it was too much for you to do. Even though you’d declared to him that you didn’t want his help and you’d happily got to bed with wet hair, he refused to leave the room until he knew it was done and you had no risk of catching a cold by going to bed with your hair wet.
He told you he’d stay out of your way and it seems he meant it. Because after he’s made sure you have everything you need and you’re safe, he heads to his home office and you don’t see him again until it’s time for your next meal or round of medication.
Which you guess is what you wanted. You told him you wanted nothing to do with him. But he’s so close and you find yourself pining for his attention, that you know he’d willingly give you if you hadn’t repeatedly told him you didn’t want him near you. It’s like there’s an invisible string between you, that you know isn’t broken, it’s holding on by a thread but it's not broken, and that’s what's making it so hard for you now.
By your third day at his apartment, you decide to swallow your pride and head to find him. You’re allowed to get out of bed, you’re not ill, but you just can’t do anything strenuous. Although, maybe putting your bruised ego to the side for the sake of being near the man you love would be classed as doing something somewhat strenuous.
You wander down the stairs, smiling at the slightly messy kitchen where he’d been trying to make you eggs this morning and move towards his office rehearsing what you’re going to say. Perhaps you could say you need something to read? But that won’t work, he’d left a pile of books by your bed along with his iPad in case there was anything you wanted to watch on it. He’d literally thought of everything you might need during your stay, proving once again that he’s nothing like the monster you saw the last time that you were in his actual office at work.
You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise you’ve been standing in his office doorway for a good thirty seconds until his worried voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Is everything ok?” He panics, you never having actively sought him out in the three days you’ve been here.
“Er, yeah. I’m….” he looks you over like he’s worried you’re in pain or something, “I’m lonely?”
“Oh,” he stands up straight, looking round for his phone, “do you want me to call Wonwoo? Or someone else?”
Fuck you feel horrible. You’ve made it so clear you don’t want him near you that now he doesn’t even think you would possibly mean that you want to spend time with him.
“No,” you shake your head, your voice quiet, “I could’ve just rung him myself. I wondered…..well I wondered if you wanted to watch a movie or something? Of course if you’re busy it’s fine.”
“I’d er,” he scratches his neck, “I’d like that. But before that……something came in yesterday that I had been meaning to show you. I had it shipped from my storage unit in Europe before we…..well before everything happened. I didn’t show you yesterday because I didn’t want to overstep but now you’re here, I’d really like to show you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s upstairs. I could show you now?” He asks softly, like he doesn’t want to make a mistake and scare you off.
You just nod and follow him quietly up the stairs. In the time you’ve spent together you’d never really had a quiet moment, from the second he entered your world it was like you both wanted to tell each other everything about your lives, no matter how big or small it was. And now there’s a void and you still don’t truly understand what caused it. One second it was the fine and the next he was sending you away.
He punches the codes in and you feel a warm feeling washes over, like being back in this room full of treasures somehow feels like home. It isn’t even the artefacts and tomes that make you feel that way, it’s being surrounded by Junhui’s life, everything that he treasures, just makes you feel closer to him than you could ever dream to be.
He leads you over to the large table in the centre of the room, papers scattered over it but a large metal box and book stand catch your eye.
“Please,” he gestures to the chair next to the one he’s just sat in, “sit down.”
“What is it?” You stare at the metal box as you sit next to him, not noticing how Junhui moves his chair just a little closer to yours.
“I’ve had these for about nine hundred years, it took me centuries to track them down but I finally did. I don’t look at them often because I don’t want to risk anything happening to them. But I wanted you to see them, she,” he smiles at the box, “she reminds me of you a little.”
“Who?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“You’ll see.” he smiles softly.
He opens the large metal box and you peer inside. You were expecting something large or impressive from the size of the box, maybe even a small bust of whoever it is that reminds him of you. But it’s just papers. Well. Parchments, ancient ones, but parchments none the less.
“Parcements?” You ask, confused how “she” can be on parchment paper.
“Have you ever heard of Sappho?” He smiles at the parchments as he gently takes them out of the box and places them on the book stand.
You rack your brain but short of a few short mentions at university, you really couldn’t say you’d heard of her.
“Vaguely,” you shake your head, marvelling at how old the pieces look in front of you, “but not really.”
He just nods, sending you another gentle smile and looks at the parchments you’re already lost in.
“She was a poet in Ancient Greece, hardly any of her writing survives, there’s probably about a hundred museums that would shoot me to get hold of these,” he chuckles, “but I always found her to be the most fascinating of all the ancient writers or poets.”
“Why?” You frown, wondering how she can be so much better than any of the ancient greats everyone in the world has heard of.
“Well, she’s a woman for one. Which in those times was unheard of for great poets or writers. But,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat, watching you and not looking at one of his most priced possessions. “She didn’t rely on myths or legends for her work. She lived in the real world, she wrote about love and feelings and what it was like to be passionately in love. By all accounts she was one of the strongest, most determined women of her time too.”
You stare at the parchment, you can’t read it, the writing is completely foreign to you but that doesn’t matter. The writing in front of you was by a woman in Ancient Greece. This parchment predates the whole modern era. Junhui had shown you a lot of things that would be considered old by anyone’s standards but this? Well this is on a completely different level to anything you could’ve ever dreamed of seeing with your own eyes.
“But?” You turn to him, dragging your eyes away from Sappho’s writing, “Why does she remind you of me?”
He doesn’t look at you, he now takes your place in staring at the parchment.
“She broke the mold. She lived a life of love and without prejudice. You know,” he smiles sadly, “she was married to a man who she loved with her whole heart and yet still explored the idea of being attracted to women in her poems. I’m not saying you are obviously, not that it’d matter if you were” he corrects himself, “but she didn’t hold prejudice against those who were attracted to the same sex. She didn’t hold prejudice against anyone from what I’m told, she was accepting and understanding. For a woman to be so forward thinking and to be heard was so underheard of,” he shakes his head completely lost in his own thoughts, “I guess you sort of reminded me of that. You found out about me, most people would have called me a freak or monster, and you were so accepting, so ready to give me a chance and see past what I am. Even in the hospital, although I’d already asked for these to be shipped, I don’t even think you realised you did it but even after I treated you so terribly, you still tried to cover for me when Wonwoo just blurted out that I’m a vampire.”
“Thank……” But you don’t get a chance to finish, it seems Junhui is so lost in thoughts that his subconscious is free flowing and nowhere near stopping.
“And if anything,” he smiles sadly as Sappho’s lost poems, “you remind me even more of her now. These poems, they’re about love. About how you feel when you’re in love, how your heart races, how you feel like you’re almost falling ill with something when you’re around the person you love so violently that your heart hurts. She celebrated love.” He nods to himself, “And she was brave enough to celebrate love. In all forms. No matter who it was. And that’s what you did, that day in my office when I tried to send you away. You were brave enough, just like Sappho, to stand there and tell me I was wrong and that you knew it was something way stronger than friendship.” A stray tear falls down his cheek as you desperately try to keep your composure, “You’re just like her. You’re strong and you’re a trailblazer who I’ve no doubt could run that company if they’d just let you. But you’re caring, you’re so willing to love, and love fully that you stood there in a room full of coldness and told a vampire that he was wrong to dismiss what was happening as friendship.”
Your heart is in your throat, feeling just how he’s just told you Sappho felt about love.
“A-are,” you swallow, trying to blink away tears, “are you saying I was right? That it wasn’t one sided?”
“I’ve lived almost two thousand years on this earth _____,” his eyes slowly find yours, “and I never felt this pull to someone. The need to be around someone all the time. I’ve loved people,” he nods, choosing to be honest, “but I’ve never felt like this. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was saving you by sending you away. But all I was doing was being fucking selfish.”
“What do you mean?” You frown, wanting to hold his hand but choosing to stay still, you don’t want to unsettle him further.
“I told myself it was for you. Because I’m a danger to you. But me denying my feelings was the only thing that put you in danger. Seungkwan thinks that’s what caused me to turn on you,” he clarifies, “the mixture of feelings I’d never had before and then that one drop of blood tipped it over the edge.”
“But how does that make you selfish?”
“If we did this. If we had a relationship. You’d grow old, it’s just the way the world is,” he shrugs, “and I don’t doubt I’d love you till your dying breath. I’d want you till your dying breath no matter how old you got. But what do I do then? When you’ve gone? I’d have to live for the rest of eternity knowing that I’d never see you again. Even if afterlives exist, I never die, I’d never see you there. I couldn’t cope with that _____. I couldn’t live knowing that I’d known the love of my life but only had her for a fraction of it.”
Your tears fall freely, his admission both fixing and breaking your heart all over again. He loves you, just as much as you love him. Or probably more. You’ve only lived thirty years and never left like this, he’s lived for thousands and says the same thing. Something you can’t quite get your head around but makes you feel more loved than you ever have. You know what you want to say, you want to say that he’s being ridiculous and he could simply change you. Which you know is reckless and ill thought out but you want nothing more than to spend an eternity with him.
“Does it not hurt more to throw it away when you know you have at least a chance to be with someone you love, even for a short time? If you walked away from this now, you’d always have what ifs, for the rest of time. If you gave us a chance, you’d have memories of the happy times at least? Surely that’s better?”
He stares at you, eyes shining from tears.
“I can’t throw it away now.” He tries to take a deep breath in a bid to stop his tears, “Even if you told me to fuck off, I don’t think I could. When Wonwoo got that phone call. I couldn’t cope, I couldn't leave you. I couldn’t lose you without you knowing that I love you with my whole heart. And when you came round all I could think about was how I didn’t want to waste a single second of your life on trying to push you away and ignore what you were brave enough to say was happening here all along.”
“So you’re saying?” You ask quietly. He’s been pretty clear but this is still the same man who told you that he’d never shown you any inclination it was more than friendship, he can’t blame you for checking.
“I’m saying,” he sniffles, wiping his cheek, “if you want to. I want to be with you. I want to know what it feels like to be in love. To freely love just like Sappho did. How you tried to before I stopped you.”
Your breath hitches with tears. Thank fuck you went to his office.
“I’d like that,” You smile through your tears, “I’d like that a lot.”
He reaches forward, his fingers gently moving your hair behind your ear and eyes searching yours.
“Thank you,” he whispers as his lips meet yours for the first time.
They’re cold, not like any other kiss that you’ve ever experienced but yet there’s a heat that comes with it, like kissing the person you love more than anyone is making you feel warmer than you ever have. It’s slow and heavy, like he’s showing you he’s got all the time in the world to love you. Your hands move to hold his cheeks and deepen the kiss but Junhui seems to be one stop ahead of you, he pulls you chair even closer and more or less pulls you onto him so you’re straddling his legs, your lips never stopping as you get your first proper taste of him. His tongue is warm unlike his lips and you can’t help but hold each other closer as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You already know that you could never get bored of this feeling and thankfully Junhui has no intention of letting you go now he’s got you.
He does break the kiss though, smiling as he leans his forehand against yours, his hands holding your waist.
“I didn’t mean to do it like this. But once again you led the way when you came into my office. I’ve been sitting at that desk for days trying to figure out how to tell you.”
“I think Ancient Greek poetry was a pretty impressive way to declare you love me to be honest.” You tease, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Being a vampire has some perks,” he smiles at you, his fingers drawing patterns on your waist. “I meant what I said though. You’re like no-one I’ve ever met and I can’t promise we won’t have our struggles but knowing we’ll face them together means the world to me. And I need you to know that what happened that day in my office hasn’t happened in centuries and I hope it’ll never happen again. I’m fine around blood normally I swear.”
“I figured,” you shrug, “my period started yesterday and I’m still alive.”
The way you feel his laughter as well as see it sends a thrill through you. You’d always said Junhui was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen but now you need to correct that. Because Junhui laughing whilst he holds you close to him is definitely the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. In this room full of treasures, he’s definitely the most precious you’ve had the honour to see.
The rest of your time spent recuperating at Junhui’s place passed by in a wave of him fussing over you trying to do too much every time you tried to put him out of his cooking misery, and gentle touches and promises of how you’d never let anything like this happen again. When he felt like it was all getting too much, or he felt like he was going to lose his cool, he’d tell you and you could find a way to work through it.
He also made it quite clear that he knew your period was starting the day before it actually started, apparently he can smell the change in your hormones or something and when it started, he could smell the blood. Something which made you panic that the smell was bad or in some way problematic for him. But he quickly put an end to that spiral though by asking did you think you were the only woman on her period he’d ever been around, which you suppose makes sense, he must sense every woman in the office’s period you suppose.
As the days passed, you just fell even more for your vampire boyfriend. He’d shyly asked you if you wanted to stay in his room with him, rather than his spare room. Neither of you were ready for anything more to happen than kissing or just simply holding each other, but he just wanted you close and you felt exactly the same way. On the first night in his room, he said he wanted to read you something. You presumed it was going to be some kind of romantic poem or excerpt from another lost ancient writer. But instead he confidently stood in front of the bed and began dramatically reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to you, strange voices for all of the characters and everything.
It was only after he’d finished reading the first three chapters that he threw himself onto the bed with you and said that he just wanted to hear your laugh. That almost week of not hearing it, he said, had been the worst time of his life and he just wanted to hear it properly, before you both spent your first night holding each other. Something that made you want to giggle and kick your feet, but you remained composed. Sort of.
The whole time staying at his apartment felt like a dream and you’d think being back in your own apartment would feel like crashing back down to earth. And yet, it doesn’t. Because even as he helped you get settled back at your place, constantly saying that if you didn’t feel ready then he’d happily let you stay at his as long as you wanted, you knew that you’d never feel as low as you did when you ran out of the office. You had your whole future to look forward to and there was no sense in rushing things. You knew you loved each other and that was more than enough.
Two years later.
“It’s just a taste really, I don’t think you’d even really register any difference as long as you’ve had your blood for the day.” Seungkwan says casually as he fills up all your glasses.
“Just a taste?” Junhui scoffs at you, Seungkwan and Wonwoo as you all nod knowingly, “Why are you two nodding? Neither of you are vampires!”
“Because I’ve listened to Seungkwan and he knows these things.” You say, like Seungkwan is the wisest person you’ve ever met. “And Wonwoo has also listened. He’s great at listening, why do you think his ears are so big?”
“Hey fuck you!”
“You won’t be saying that to me when I’m a vampire.” You say matter of factly.
“And you won’t be becoming one if you use your advantage like that.”
You gawk at your boyfriend, disgusted that he’d say that to you, particularly in front of Wonwoo who’s looking more smug than you’ve ever seen him.
“I mean it _____,” Junhui says, taking a sip of his drink, “I’m already going against everything I believe in, if you’re going to use it over people, I won’t do it.”
“He’s not people, he’s Wonwoo,” you say, like it’s obvious. “And you know I’m not like that. We’ve been through this.”
“I know,” he sighs, scratching his eyebrow, “I’m just……..I still don’t know if I should do it. Maybe we should get Joshua to come over and do it. He’s the oldest. He’s turned people before. We could call him and he’ll be on a flight before we know it.”
“NO!” You interrupt, making Seungkwan jump and drop his food off his chopsticks, “I don’t want someone else to bite me. I want you to do it.”
“Oh this is disgusting, do I have to be here for this?” Wonwoo asks Seungkwan.
“Yes. You need to hear this as much as _____. You’re the one who’s insistent you want to become one too.”
“Childish.” You mumble to Wonwoo.
“Why should you get to see everything in the future and not me?”
“Because I fell in love with a vampire,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“I think you’ll find he loves me just as much. I’m like your brother, aren’t I Junhui?” He looks at your boyfriend hopefully, Junhui looking slightly panicked.
“I wouldn’t object to having you around.” He concedes much to your disgust. The last thing Wonwoo needs is his ego boosting.
“Oh well why don’t you spend eternity with him then,” you throw your napkin on the table dramatically, all of them knowing you’re joking. You’re too excited to be truly angry.
“Because,” he leans towards you, “I fell in love with you and you’ve somehow become so important that I can’t imagine any future without you. So sadly, you’re going to be stuck with me. Forever.”
“Dis-gusting.” Wonwoo says flatly as Junhui peppers tiny kisses on your lips and you giggle into them.
“So it’s just a taste,” Seungkwan carries on once he’s given your sickly pda enough time to come to an end, “you need to take enough blood that her blood sort of panics, in simple terms, her body needs to panic and take on your dna to keep itself alive. It’s a fine line and it’ll be quick, a bite and you only need a couple of mouth fulls for it to be done. Anymore and…….”
“Anymore,” Junhui interrupts, “and I kill the love of my life.”
The table falls quiet at that.
About a month ago when you turned 32, you brought up the subject of Junhui changing you, you wanted him to do it and you wanted him to do it whilst you still looked like you. It may be vain but you don’t want to be an old lady and he finally decides to do it.
It wasn’t a shock to him and to be honest, he’d been thinking about the same thing. Your two years together had shown you two things, that you loved each other like you didn’t think was possible and that Junhui was going to struggle to go on once you’d left this world. You’d gotten the impression he was thinking about it when he spent hours talking to Pearl and Soonyoung on the phone. They’re the only other vampires alive that had been through this and you couldn’t see any other reason that he’d be talking to them so much more than normal.
You hadn’t gone into it blindly. You knew you’d have to distance yourself from your parents a little as you got older but Junhui said with skincare and things the way they are now, you could probably get away with not cutting them out completely. They wouldn’t really be able to tell you weren’t aging all that much. And you’d have to move around every few decades but that didn’t matter, as long as you were together. You couldn’t see any logical reason for him to not turn you.
Junhui had resisted doing it himself, even when he’d gotten his head around the fact that in taking your mortal life, he was giving you both an eternal life together. He’d stopped seeing it as murder, like he’d spent a lot of his life doing, because he knew that you’d still be you. You’d still have the same personality, the same looks, even the same preferences in food and literature, you’d just have reflexes like the speed of light and everything else that came with being a vampire.
Seungkwan and Junhui had been meticulous in their research and planning for the days after he’d turned you. They found enough evidence to suggest that if they doubled the amount of blood that they both have daily, your thirst should be satiated enough that you won’t have the urge to bite anybody. They’d both taken two weeks off work and they were going to monitor you, gradually allowing you near more and more people the more your body adjusted to the change, until you were able to function normally in society just like them.
It didn’t stop Junhui’s worries though but you loved that he was up front about them. He didn’t want to hide any part of himself from you and that included the uncomfortable truth, that the main thing he was scared of was killing you. It wasn’t that he didn’t drink enough blood daily, it was more that he hasn’t had that thrill of fresh blood from the source in centuries. And, if their research is anything to go by, the blood of someone you love tastes even sweeter than that of any other human being. He knew he could resist, he’d realised in your time together that you’re one of the clumsiest people he’s ever met, he’s cleaned up cuts and grazes and never had an issue. But drinking it? When you’re willingly giving it? He was scared. And you all knew it.
“You’ve got this Junhui. I know you have. As you do it, just think of the fact that you never have to say goodbye, that if you don’t stop when you need to, you lose everything. That should be all you need to not lose yourself.” Seungkwan says kindly.
“And let's not forget _____’s self defence classes, she’ll fight you off.” Wonwoo jokes, knowing exactly how to bring everyone back from worrying.
“Hey. I have a mean right hook.” You say, flexing your nonexistent muscles.
“It’ll be fine Junhui. And I’ll come by first thing in the morning with the blood.”
“When do I get turned?”
“When I can be bothered.” Seungkwan dismisses Wonwoo and goes back to finishing his dinner.
You and Junhui smile at each other as your friends bicker, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never have to worry about losing each other ever again.
“I thought,” you mumble against Junhui’s lips as he keeps kissing you, “that you were turning me.”
“I am,” he says against your skin as his lips move down your neck, “but I just wanted to show human _____ how much I love her, one last time.”
His soft lips travel down your body, kissing every bit of skin they come into contact with, like he wants to make sure he’s touched every miniscule part of you before he finally grants your wish. Every tiny peck makes your body feel like it’s on fire and all you can do is lie back on your shared bed, both of you naked, and relish the way he’s worshipping your body.
“How are you so perfect?” He whispers as he takes your nipple gently into his mouth, humming around it as he sucks gently.
You’d had sex. You’ve had a lot of sex in your two years together. But this feels different, this feels like you’re giving yourselves to each other, to be naked and bare to each other as he takes your mortal life away and renews it with his unkillable DNA feels like a new birth. It’s possibly the most intimate you’ve ever felt, you’re just two people about to do something that will change your lives for eternity. In all the years you’ll spend with each other after this, no matter how the world changes and whatever life throws at you, this will always stay the same. How it all started, both of you feeling each other in your purest most honest forms, will always feel like this. You’ll always have each other, you’ll always be able to have each other like this.
His lips leave your nipple, his tongue licking a soft line between the valley of your breasts until he finds your untouched nipple, his lips wrapping around it softly and savouring the feeling of it in his mouth just as much as he had done your other one. Your hands run through his hair, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh at the feeling over him sucking your pebbled nipple. No-one has ever made you feel like this, so beautiful, so wanted. He’s seen hundreds of bodies in his life and yet every time he sees, or feels or tastes yours, it’s like he’s in awe of you, like he can’t get over how stunning you are and that you love him as much as he loves you.
“I love you,” he hums as his lips move lower and lower, trailing down your stomach, even stopping at your belly button and giving that a little kiss because he knows the ticklish feeling would make you giggle.
“I love you too,” you giggle as his lips travel painfully close to your pussy.
You can’t even be annoyed when he bypasses it entirely, you know once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to stop. The man has spent hours with his head between your thighs and you both know that he doesn’t stop until you physically can’t take anymore. So he can’t get sidetracked by your perfect pussy because he’s not finished showing the rest of your body the same amount of love as he’s already shown your upper half. His kisses turn wet as he kisses your thighs, your body twitching a little when his hair brushes past your pussy when he kisses the inside of your thighs.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles as his lips move down your legs, kissing every where he comes into contact with, “how I got so lucky to find someone as fucking exquisite as you after all this time.”
He dodges your feet after he places a gentle kiss on one and you laugh, almost ruining his little monologue. Not that he minds, your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world and one that he can’t wait to hear forever more. But clearly your feet are out of bounds if he doesn’t want you rolling around laughing and so he makes his way back up your legs, savouring the way your soft skin feels against his lips, his tongue occasionally popping out too because any part of you tastes divine to him and he can’t resist.
Junhui glances up at you as he reaches your pussy once again but instead of moving back up your body, he dots featherlight kisses all over you, over your folds, over the inside of your thighs, everywhere he can to show you just how much he loves you. His left hand takes yours in his whilst his other hand gently opens you up for him, his eyes shining in love as he kisses your clit, the feeling making you moan a little as his lips kiss their way down to your leaking entrance.
“So pretty,” he kitten licks your hole, tasting you straight from the source, “I can’t believe I get to spend eternity with you. All mine, to taste, to savour, to worship.” He licks a long stripe back up to your clit, your hand squeezing his from how good it feels.
His lips suck gently on your clit, your hips bucking a little from the pleasure it sends shooting through your body.
“Do you think every part of you tastes good darling?” He must feel the way you twitch at that because you feel his smirk disrupt his sucking on your clit he’d gone back to doing.
You’d told him just how much the idea of him biting you excited you, you’ve no idea why, you think it’s because it’s something nobody has ever done. It’s something so forbidden that for him to do it, to bite you and to taste your blood, it makes this whole thing even more erotic. You’d spoken about tonight, you’d told him that you wanted to feel him bite you just once before he actually bites you properly. You know you’re risking a lot and you’re amazed he agreed, if Seungkwan found out, he’d be furious. “Just one bite and just a taste.” But you want to know how good the pain feels and see the effect your blood has on him before you’re too lost in changing into a vampire that you don’t see anything at all.
“You’re such a dirty girl ______. It’s pretty perverse to want to see the effect you have on me like that. But,” he licks your pussy again, humming at the taste of your fresh wave of arousal, “I’d give you anything darling, I’d give you the whole fucking world if I could.”
He licks one more time before his tongue carries on up along your stomach and wraps around one of your nipples again.
“Fuck!” He makes you jump when suddenly drops your nipple and shouts, “I love you so fucking much.” He says through gritted teeth, your heart pounding and pussy clenching when, for the first time in two years, he looks up at you and you see those red eyes and pearlescent fangs that you saw once before in his office.
“You think you can just tell me that you want me to taste you, all of you, and I wouldn’t say yes?” his teeth scratch along your skin softly, just above where your heart is pounding.
You try your best not to squirm but you can’t help it, you’re not doing it out of fear, you’re doing it because of the threat of him sinking his teeth into you at any given moment. The thrill of that expectant pain only makes you drip more than you ever have for him.
His fingers trail down your stomach as his teeth pause in their scratching, weighing just a little heavier on your skin and making your body pause in anticipation. But he doesn’t do anything with his teeth. His fingers however plunge into your aching hole, making you arch in pleasure at the sudden stretch of his two fingers and your skin, that his teeth were already resting on, ripple the skin, perilously close to breaking it but somehow not.
“Look how wet you are just at the thought of me tasting your blood, I never knew you were such a pervert darling,” he mutters against your skin, his fingers dragging against your gummy walls and hitting your g spot tantalisingly.
You can’t respond to him, you’re too lost in pleasure and the idea that you’re totally in his care. Your whole body is his to do with as he pleases and if one thing goes wrong, you’re done for. You trust him, you trust him with your life or what you’ll have left of it after this, but it’s the temptation that he’ll have and danger that comes with it. It’s warped, but the idea that he is going to be so drunk on you when he tastes you, that you’ll be giving him so much pleasure in ways no other woman ever has during sex, is sending you a little crazy.
His fingers hammer in and out of you, the sounds of your sopping pussy and moans that your body doesn’t seem to want to fully release as you wait for him to taste you, filling the room. You’re close, you’re so close and he knows it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows every twitch and every tiny response you have to him and so he knows from the little pattern of clenches your pussy is making around his long fingers, that it won’t be long until you come undone around them.
It’s because he knows you so well, knows what you want from him, that just as your high is about to it, he sinks his fangs into you just enough that it punctures your skin.
“Fuck,” you cry, your pussy trembling around his fingers just as much as the rest of your body is as the pain of him biting you and drawing blood mixes with the pleasure coursing through your body from the greatest orgasm of your life. You feel like you’re floating, your whole body filled with electricity as you writhe and cry beneath him, gripping his body and riding his fingers to see you through your orgasm.
When you open your eyes and blink Junhui into focus, the sight makes your blood run cold. Yet you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy clench painfully in overstimulation.
He stares at you, eyes glistening red and fangs dripping in your blood. The bite has already healed, the dull pain of it and your blood in his mouth being the only reminder that he’d bitten you, as he takes his fingers from inside you and licks your essence off them, the taste of your blood and your cum mixing together and creating something that Junhui has never experienced in all his years of living. It’s like the ultimate delicacy and it stirs something almost animalistic in him. You’re his. You are totally and utterly his and that taste just solidifies it. It’s like it's imprinted something in him that you won’t ever be able to take away, not that he’d ever want you to.
The blood drips from his fangs onto your breasts and you both look down at it, knowing exactly what he’s going to do even as more blood drips down onto the purity of your skin. His tongue darts out and he licks every last drop that’s fallen, his tongue getting more and more frantic the more he tastes. And you’ve never felt more desired, more totally beholding to someone than you have in your entire life. He hums into the taste and if you couldn’t feel his fangs drag against your nipple as he was licking your blood from your breasts, you’d think he was back to your usual caring Junhui.
But when he’s cleaned everything off you, your skin a little pink from how he’s spread the remains of blood over you when he licked it off, and he looks into your eyes. Reality hits you. He looks at your untarnished neck, his red eyes shining a little brighter at the prospect of what’s about to happen and you know that this is it. Your mortal life is going to end and you’ll have the privilege that every other person doesn’t get, you’ll get to spend eternity with the man you love. Both of you seeing the wonders the world has to offer now and the wonders that are yet to come.
You know your Junhui is still there, he isn’t so lost in the taste of you or his desires that he’s totally left you, because he nods just a little, silently asking you if you’re ready for this.
“I love you Junhui. I want forever with you.”
His breath hitches, he takes in your naked body and moves to hover over you, his body resting against yours, skin to skin as he holds your hands above your head.
He places one last gentle kiss to your mortal lips, whispering a gentle “I love you too.” against them before he moves his lips down along your jaw and onto your neck.
His lips stop and it’s like your world stops with it. You take one last deep breath in and as you breathe out, you feel his fangs sink into your neck much harder than they had during that first bite. It hurts. It’s the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced but Junhui’s hands squeeze yours letting you know he’s still yours, he hasn’t become the monster that could kill you as he gently sucks on your neck. It isn’t like when someone sucks a love bite onto your neck, with each tiny suck it sinks his fangs even further into your skin and makes you sob just that little harder from the added pain.
But the pain is the last thing on your mind. You feel his DNA running through your veins, overtaking the DNA that makes you human and changing you into something colder, something more primal. You feel cold, colder than you ever have and yet you feel more alive than ever. Like as more of his DNA courses through you, the stronger your body feels like it’s getting, like you could take on a whole stampede of rhinos and come out the victor.
He yanks himself away from you, his body shaking and convulsing like everything in him is telling him to carry on, to get his fill of you until you’re dead. But he can’t do that. He won’t. You’re his _____ and he knows if he doesn’t stop now, he never will. He kneels back, still holding one of your hands but drawing away enough to allow the bite enough time to heal and the temptation to keep biting to heal along with it. He strokes your waist with his free hand and waits for you to come round, hoping he hasn’t drawn too much blood from you, as you gasp for breath and shake a little on the bed, your body trying to fight his DNA off yet cling to it to keep you alive.
“Come on _____,” he whispers, looking at you with wide eyes that are now completely devoid of any red, your Junhui well and truly back. But he just wants to make sure that you’re back and to be honest, he’s starting to panic. “Please darling, come on. We’ve got this, we can do this,”
His hand keeps stroking your waist and if he was a little less panicked he’d feel that you’re squeezing his hand, trying to show him that you’re still there and your body is just trying to catch up with what’s happened.
“My love?” He lunges forward when your eyes blink open, the wound on your neck healing completely as you do. “_____ are you with me?”
He startles a little when you open your eyes and red ones stare back at him.
“What?” You mumble, not liking the look of slight horror on his face.
“Nothing,” he shakes off the shock, “I just forgot your eyes would be red until you have your first blood, that’s all. Are you ok? You feel ok?”
“I feel fantastic,” you smile, “like I could fight someone and actually win.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’ll wear off in an hour or so. Come on, let's get you washed and changed then you can sleep it off before Seungkwan comes with the blood.”
“Hold on,” you pull his hand as you sit up, both of you face to face, “thank you for doing this. I know it took a lot and I know you hated it. Just….thank you. And I love you.”
“I love you too.” he says, kissing your lips and noting it doesn’t feel much different from kissing your human lips. “Come on,” he stands up and scoops you into his arms, smiling at how you laugh at his antics and realising this has really changed nothing other than you get to spend your whole life together.
“There was one more thing I needed to tell you about all this.”
“What,” you frown as he places you on the bathroom counter and sets the bath running, “if you’re about to tell me some awful thing about being a vampire that you kept to yourself, I’ll kill you Junhui.”
“Yeah, I’d like to see you try newbie.” You quirks his brow at you. “And it’s not that. You know how Wonwoo wanted turning too?”
“Yeah?” You say slowly, not really liking where this is going.
“Well. When Seungkwan brings the blood in the morning. He’s also bringing Wonwoo. Because you’ll both be needing that blood……..” he waits for you to realise what this means.
“I HAVE TO SPEND TWO WEEKS LOCKED IN THIS APARTMENT WITH FUCKING WONWOO?!”
He dodges the toilet roll you aim at his head, though only just now your reflexes match his, but can’t help but laugh as you berate him. All he can think as he adds bubbles to your bath is how lucky he is that you walked into his office and caught him drinking blood. If you hadn’t, he’d never be here now. Being shouted at by the love of his life and looking forward to an eternity of this chaos that he’s grown to love so much.
Something about jun being a handsome vampire who is so whipped for the reader like he's genuinely so gentleman here. Really he's so cute, and the reader is definitely cuter. Wdym she was holding a fictional book and a racket to ward off a 6ft vampire like lol girl you're so funny 😭🙏🏼 if I thought that scene was hilarious, I definitely didn't expect my man Vernon to almost join a whole cult??? 😭 Please this was such a fun read. Something something mentioned hoshi x pearl 👀 (yea guys that's me. Im the pearl in question hihi 😋)
I absolutely love and adore your fics, I can't get enough of hot vampire jun. Gimme a hundred of those frfr 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
Pairing ✨ Wonwoo x Female OC (ft. Jeonghan + Mingyu)
Synopsis ✨ When you had a baby with your on and off again situationship/ best friend, you couldn't cope. He and his friends took care of the baby whilst you got the help you needed. Now she's four, you're all living together and somehow all four of you are trying to navigate being normal 30 year olds and raising your daughter.
🩵 Very much a take on Three Men And A Little Lady (six year old me's favourite film) 🩵
Genre ✨ found family, fluff, angst, smut
Plot warnings ✨found family but also all their families are supportive, Wonwoo is a surgeon, Mingyu is a vlogger, Jeonghan is rich? (stay at home dad), OC is an artist, their daughter is called Areum (referred to as Areum and Ari), Wonwoo isn't the biological dad, descriptions of struggling to cope, postnatal depression (this is only really explicitly talked about at the start), very brief reference to abortion, she leaves the baby with the guys, Jeonghan being an absolute supportive king, IDIOTS in love, Jeonghan and Mingyu are unhelpful to the max when it comes to oc and Wonwoo's relationship, bi Jeonghan, Jeonghan struggling to come to terms with being bi, drinking, misunderstandings, Seokmin slander (he's a terrible date), spiralling, Wonwoo hating every child that isn't theirs, they're all the best girl dads there's ever been, mentions of cheating and homewrecking (there isn't any, OC is just a grade A idiot), sort of cliff hanger ending but it's obvious what'll happen and I'm going to do a little follow up to this when I get round to it
Smut warnings ✨ oral m.receiving/ dildo receiving(?), use of sex toys (aforementioned dildo), dom Wonwoo, deep throating, choking, body worship, Wonwoo is big, slight finger sucking (it has been pointed out I almost always include this so I'm just doubling down on the finger sucking), slight body insecurity (it's more nerves really), mating press, fluffy yet filthy sex?, unprotected sex-ish (she is on birth control), possessive Wonwoo, slight possessive OC, marking (back scratches), creampie, A LOT of saying I love you, slight cum play
Word count ✨ 19.5k
a/n ✨ I have deleted this no less than three times, written about ten other stories when I decided it was rubbish and then fell in love with the idea again and finally got my shit together and rewrote it. So this has been sitting in my drafts since I finished it, waiting for the loml's birthday (why does it feel like Wonwoo has been away for 300 years? I swear they're making my man do double the amount of time). And it took a lot of self restraint to not give one of them a comically large mustache so it was more like the original film. I won't be uploading anything for a few weeks because life is about to be hectic, so I hope you enjoy this little piece of chaos for Wonwoo's birthday!
Four Years Ago:
“What do you think you're going to do with those?"
“Defend us?" Mingyu says it like it should be obvious, holding his hair straighteners aloft ready to fight off anyone and everyone.
“Oh you'll really show whoever it is you mean business in that fluffy robe."
“Fuck you Wonwoo, at least…."
“Shut up! Let's just…take a deep breath,” Jeonghan dramatically breathes in and out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two? People hardly ring the buzzer if they're about to rob or murder you."
“You don’t know that Wonwoo," Jeonghan holds up a finger to shut him up.
“Yeah, it might just be a really polite murderer," Mingyu adds.
“Pair of fucking idiots."
"You shouldn't let him talk to you like that, it's your penthouse Jeonghan,"
“I pay rent! Try it sometime Mingyu!" Wonwoo hollers as he struts to the front door.
"He's really fucking mean when he's tired.”
"He is right dude, it's been months since you paid me rent.”
"You're a gazillionaire.”
"It's the gesture, y'know?”
"Whatever,” Mingyu rolls his eyes as they come to stand at the front door either side of Wonwoo.
"Well. Open it then,”
"Oh noooooow you're not so brave!”
"I just think it's your penthouse, you should open the door."
“Mingyu," Jeonghan turns to his friend, “open the door."
“Why me?!"
“You've got the straighteners."
“And you're built like a house." Wonwoo chimes in.
“And what’ll happen when you give me a complex huh? Who'll be the butt of your jokes then?”
"Still you.”
"Just open the door Mingyu!” Jeonghan barks, clearly having had enough of his two best friends come roommates.
"Alright! There's no need to shout!”
He wraps his hand around the doorknob, taking a deep breath as his two friends shift awkwardly on their feet, dreading whatever is behind the door. Because nothing good ever comes of unannounced guests at three in the morning.
Mingyu flings the door open and they all frown, there's nobody there? Had they spent so long arguing that whoever it was walked off in boredom? Or it was just some kids messing about? But this is the penthouse of one of the most exclusive buildings in the city, you can't get up here without a code.
A babbling shocks them though.
“Is that?"
“What the hell?"
“Is that a……”
A baby's giggle makes them all jump back.
"How did it ring the buzzer?” Mingyu whispers to Wonwoo.
"There's a note idiot.” Jeonghan reaches down but pauses when he sees his name written on the envelope.
“It knows your name?" Mingyu asks in wonder.
"Did you go to school?”
"Hey fuck you Wo…" he stops himself when he realises he's sworn in front of the baby.
“Are you gonna, y’know, open it?" Wonwoo presses.
“O-oh, yeah sure,"
His fingers shake as he opens the envelope, a weird feeling of doom hanging over him.
Jeonghan,
I don't even know what to write. I guess I should start with I'm sorry? I know we were nothing serious, I know I just stopped picking up your calls but I just didn't know what to do.
I've tried Jeonghan, I really have but I can't do it. I can't be what she needs, I can't be what I need right now.
I feel like I'm sinking and I can't take her down with me, she deserves someone, anyone other than me.
Her name's Areum, she's two months old and she's yours. And don't worry, you have my full permission to do a DNA test. I wouldn't trust me either. I've put her favourite blanket and teddy bear in her bag, there's some formula too and some clean clothes.
Just know that I tried. Please please know that I really did try my best for her.
And tell her mommy loves her, I'm just doing what's best for her. My best was just never going to be good enough for her or anyone.
I hope you'll both forgive me,
______
“_____!" Jeonghan throws the note at Wonwoo and sprints to the elevator.
He needs to find you, he needs to get to you. He knew it was weird you stopped picking up the phone but you're a free spirit, always have been ever since you both met at university.
He should've kept calling, he should've hammered your fucking door down.
You've had a baby, you've had his baby and you've done it all on your fucking own. Sure, it wasn't planned, you two just fooled around whenever you were drunk and single at the same time. It was reckless and stupid but you both got what you needed and so you didn't see a problem with it. But he'd never desert you, he'd never not step up to be what you and the baby needed. You're his friend and he loves you, he should've shown you that. Maybe then you wouldn't be in this state.
He slams the button again and again until eventually the doors open and he rushes in. A part of him hoped you'd still be in here but it's just silence, so silent he feels like he can hear his heart beat.
The doors open in the foyer and he was rushes out onto the street, his head in his hands as he looks up and down over and over again hoping to spot you disappearing into the distance.
But it's no use.
You've already disappeared.
You've disappeared and he's got no way of finding out if you're ok.
What the fuck is he thinking he knows you're not ok but that only makes everything so much worse. He's not bothered you didn't tell him about the baby, he's not bothered you've had the baby at the moment, his concern is you and whatever state of mind you're in.
But he knows he can't do anything about it at three in the morning. As soon as the hour is a bit more reasonable, he'll call your parents, he'll call your old school friends, fuck he’ll call the police if he has to. But he will make sure you're ok. He owes you that much.
At some point his feet bring him back to his apartment, the door slams behind him and he finds his two best friends watching a baby he didn't know existed ten minutes, as it bounces in its carrier.
“Did you find her?"
“She's gone,"
“We'll find her Jeonghan, I promise." Mingyu squeezes his shoulder.
“I don't know what to do," Jeonghan whispers, staring down at a baby that has his eyes.
“We take care of her." Wonwoo mumbles.
“_____ or the baby?"
“Both."
“Yoon Areum if you don’t get down here right now I’ll send Mingyu up there!” Jeonghan booms up the stairs.
“What’s Mingyu gonna do, paint their nails together?”
“He’s got a new thing where he pretends to cry because he realised she’ll do as she’s told then,” You tell Wonwoo as you sip your coffee.
“That’s manipulation.”
“And you reading her the dictionary is child cruelty.” Jeonghan fires back as he pours pancake batter in the pan on the stove.
“Excuse me? I think you’ll find that our daughter has the reading age of a high schooler.”
“She also has the reading tastes of an old lady,”
“Jeonghan’s right, I found her reading Agatha Christie the other day.”
“One of the greatest female writers of all time,” Wonwoo says proudly.
“It’s about murder Wonwoo.” You deadpan.
“Murder happens. It’s better she knows.”
“She’s four!” Jeonghan spins round.
“This is just another thing that they’re going to use against us,” you groan and rest your head on the kitchen island.
Wonwoo and Jeonghan share a look. You’d been panicking, they all knew it. For the past almost four years you’ve all been living together at Jeonghan’s penthouse. You’d been friends for years but when you found out you were pregnant you just spiralled. Like massively spiralled. You shut everyone off, ashamed that you’d fucked up so much. Sure you weren’t a complete mess but you were in no way ready for a baby. You’d made an appointment, you were going to go to the clinic and the whole thing would be over.
But when it came to it. You just couldn’t. You ran away from the clinic and away from everyone in your life. Even at the hospital, when you were giving birth, they pleaded with you to let them contact your parents or the father but you just wouldn’t. You were adamant this was your fuck up and you’d deal with it.
And then she arrived, the most beautiful baby you’d ever seen in your life. You took her back to your apartment and then things just went from bad to worse. You couldn’t get out of bed, you couldn’t eat, you just couldn’t function and you knew you were letting her down. You weren’t even looking after yourself well enough that she had enough milk, she had to go onto formula and that was just another thing that showed you how shit a mother you were. No matter how many times the medical visitor said it was totally normal for some mothers not to be able to feed as well as others and not to blame yourself, you still did. You were letting her down.
You brought her into this world and now you were letting her down. It was when she’d been crying for hours and you were sobbing on the floor that you knew you had to do something. It wasn’t loving her right to try and struggle through, it was loving her more to not be around her. You’d just ruin her life. You already were ruining her life.
Your parents would help. You knew they would. They’re well off, you’d never wanted anything in life, hell they’d even let you live at home for years until your paintings finally started selling and you could sustain yourself. But if anything that made it worse. You came from a good family. You’d made yourself a more than comfortable life, you had enough money to do whatever you wanted which is pretty rare for a 26 year old.
So if money and family and surroundings weren’t the reason you were struggling so much to give your baby what she needed. The only problem, the only common denominator in how shit life was for you and Areum. Was you.
Jeonghan was a good man, you’d been friends for years and he had a good family. Better than good. One of the richest families in Korea though they were somehow a close knit loving family in spite of the money and power they had. They’d look after her. And that’s what she needed, people that loved her like you but weren’t fucking terrible at everything.
It broke you to leave her. It broke you to see Jeonghan running after you. If he’d have just run down the stairwell instead of taking the elevator, he’d have found you.
You wanted to walk away but you couldn’t.
Not until you knew she was safe in his hands.
The next day he sat outside your apartment until you finally answered, telling you that he had all the time in the world because Wonwoo and Mingyu were knee deep in diapers. Eventually you answered and he didn’t shout or scream. He just sat and listened and held you when you cried. By the end of that week you’d seen a doctor, your mom, Jeonghan’s mom and Jeonghan with you, as the doctor told you that none of it was your fault and you weren’t a bad mother. A bad mother would never wait to make sure her daughter was safe. A bad mother wouldn’t have realised how bad the situation was for you or the baby. They diagnosed you with post natal depression and you spent a couple of weeks with your parents.
The guys would bring Areum by every couple of days and between her smiling face and the chaos of the three men who had come to dote on her, you gradually got better.
After a few weeks Jeonghan suggested you move in with them. He had more than enough room for you to have your own space and they’d even decided to turn the home gym into Areum’s bedroom for when she was old enough to sleep on her own. They’d bought everything they needed for a baby and more besides. And when you said you weren’t sure, all three of them descended on you saying it was what they all wanted. They wanted to be there and surely the more help, the better.
You agreed and the rest is history.
It wasn’t always easy but it worked. She had three men who would do anything for her, who you see in her ever flourishing personality and you’d managed to become the mother she deserved. It didn’t stop you doubting yourself or worrying about what people thought but with three of the best cheerleaders in the world on your side, life was good. A bit mad. But good.
“He’s on the phone to Hyeji anyway, they’re probably going you hang up , no you hang up. There’s more chance of Ari throwing up than doing what she’s told.”
“I like her! She’s been good for him!”
“I’m not saying she hasn’t, I just wish they didn’t live in two different countries, I’m sick of hearing them having phone sex.”
You and Jeonghan grimace at that.
Mingyu and his girlfriend met online. They’re vloggers. Or bloggers. Or….something to do with going to cafes and eating too much food on the internet. He makes decent money off it, even enough to pay Jeonghan all the rent he owed him over the years, but you’ve no idea how he makes money off just wandering around the city when it’s raining and then drinking an overpriced latte. But he’s happy and that’s all that matters.
“When are you going to introduce us to your new girlfriend?” You turn on your stool to smirk at Jeonghan.
“I don’t have one.”
“Oh please, you’re always smiling at your phone.”
“Do you not think it’s weird to try and pimp out your baby daddy?”
“Not at all, I’m just trying to get you to leave the house.”
“It’s not my fault I’ve somehow become a maid for you three and our daughter. Talking of her, AREUM YOU HAVE TILL THREE OR I’M COMING UP THERE,” He marches off with his hands on his hips.
“It’ll all be fine you know,”
“I know it will you,” you sigh as you turn back to Wonwoo, “it’s just I know people will think it’s weird and I don’t really care about them, I just don’t want them to take it out on Ari.”
“Ari can handle herself.” Wonwoo nods, smiling.
“I know but this is the first time she’s going to be around normal families,”
“Hey, there is nothing normal. And she’s one of the most well adjusted, intelligent, beautiful little girls I’ve ever met. And I’m a doctor so I should know.”
“You’re a heart surgeon,” you narrow your eyes at him, “how many kids have heart attacks?”
“It happens,” he shrugs, “but I see them in the hospital, roaming around the place like feral animals. She’s way better than other kids.”
“I’m not sure you can say that,”
“Well I did,” he takes a slice of toast as a flustered Jeonghan stomps back into the kitchen.
“She wants Wonwoo to do her hair, apparently the way I do plaits is wrong.”
“I am good with my hands,” Wonwoo beams, throwing his toast down as he rushes off to do your daughter's hair.
He’s no idea what he’s just said or the road your mind is currently travelling down but Jeonghan smiles knowingly at you watching Wonwoo disappear up the stairs and goes back to making pancakes.
“Why don’t you just tell him?”
“Tell who what?”
“Tell Wonwoo how you feel.”
“He’s already asked me how I’m feeling today, it’s a big day, you’ve all asked me.”
“Don’t get smart with me _____, I know you better than anyone.”
It’s true. He does. You’d realised pretty early on, probably before you even had Areum, that you and Jeonghan worked really well together. But it’s very much just as friends. It was just letting off steam whenever you had sex, like a weird situationship where you were best friends until you were both horny and then you were both just means to an end.
It worked. There was no jealousy or arguing about other people because you knew you didn’t love each other like that. You did love each other but like he’s a family member. You loved that you both brought Areum into the world. And that’s lucky. Because couples break up all the time and ruin their kid’s lives. But you two are best friends raising your child with your two other friends and if anything, you feel more secure than you would in a relationship and raising a child.
“What do you want me to say?” You whine quietly.
“Tell Wonwoo….”
“Tell Wonwoo what?” The man himself jumps down the bottom step of the stairs whilst a very excited Areum runs at you.
“Mommy! Can you please tell him that I wasn’t late. I’m right on time, we only start at 9am.”
“I thought it was 8:30?”
“That’s what mommy told you but it’s because you’re always late.”
“Are you serious?!” Jeonghan spins round, almost knocking the pancakes off the counter.
“You are always late.” You dismiss him.
“You,” he points at his daughter with the spatula, “come here and eat these pancakes. I demand it.”
“Is there syrup?” Ari asks, her hands on her hips, the complete double of her father.
“Obviously. I’m not a monster.”
“Ok then,” she giggles and Jeonghan scoops her up into his arms as they flip the last pancake.
“What did you need to tell me?” Wonwoo asks softly as he sits back down.
“O-oh!” Fuck you need to think of something convincing, “I er, I have an appointment at the hospital and it’s around lunch time.”
“Ok?” His eyebrows knit together, “It’s nothing serious is it? Anything I can do?”
“No! No, it’s just a dermatologist appointment. Not that I have a rash or something! It’s just a follow up about some dry skin.” Fuck, shut the hell up ______.
“Thanks for letting me know? I guess?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab lunch? What with me being there and you being there and us living together, y’know as friends.”
He sits in silence until you finish whatever bullshit is coming out of your mouth.
“Sorry _____, I have plans for lunch.”
Of course he fucking does. You weren’t even going to tell him you were going to the hospital, you’d be happily eating your breakfast if it wasn’t for fucking Jeonghan.
“No problem!” You smile fakely and grab the jam.
“We could…..”
But you don’t hear Wonwoo’s gentle voice because Jeonghan launches a pancake so high into the air that it sticks to his ten foot ceilings and chaos ensues.
The rest of the morning passes in a whirlwind of a messy kitchen, photos with all of you and Areum before her first day at school and then Jeonghan and Wonwoo trying to calm you and Mingyu down as you both bawl in the back of the car about how your baby is all grown up.
Why do they insist on putting the pharmacy in hospitals so far away from literally everything? You swear you've been round this hospital five times and it's not like you've not been following the signs, you have.
You thought you'd finally found it. There seemed to be a gaggle of people huddled around and you presumed they were waiting for meds but instead you stumbled on the cafeteria.
It is lunch time. And you have walked thirty four miles in search of the pharmacy so you don't suppose it'd hurt to get something to eat. You haven't got too long until you'll need to pick Ari up from school. You and Mingyu had said you'd go mainly because you've both been checking your phones every ten minutes in case she'd fallen to the ground in a fit of tears declaring she needed her mommy. But she hadn't, it was you that felt like you needed your mom.
You settle on just grabbing a drink from the fridges. The place is packed and you won't be the person that takes the spot in the queue for food from an overworked doctor because you're bored and in a mood about pharmacies.
Grabbing a soda and closing the door, you're ready to head to pay when you hear a name you know better than most. You don't know the voice speaking it, but you definitely know the name.
You search through the tables, hoping to spot him. You know he said he was busy but surely he wouldn't object to you saying hello, you do raise a child together after all.
Just how many tables are in this fucking cafeteria?! You can't spot him for shit, maybe you were wrong, maybe it wasn't his name. But then you spot him and you feel like throwing your bottle of soda at the man at the table in front of you.
He's smiling, the same smile you love so much, at a woman. Yes, not the most damning of situations to find him in, but he's still laughing. And if anything they're sitting pretty close to each other. Too close in your opinion, they should be at least two metres away from each other to make it decent. It's just those two at the table and they're chatting and laughing and probably falling in love and forgetting you or Ari exist completely.
You’re not sure why you're so pissed off but why hadn't he just said he had a date. They've all been on dates since you've lived there. You have one firm rule. They don't bring anyone into Areum’s life until they know they're serious about them. She doesn't need hundreds of people in her life and it confuses her.
It was a good rule. It worked. Not that you've ever used it, you haven't been on a single date since you had her. But it worked in general for you all as a family but right now? You'd quite like it if the rule was that none of them go out of the house except for work and even then they can't speak to anyone else that isn't you.
Well.
You're not so bothered about the rule for Mingyu and Jeonghan but for Wonwoo? No. He needs to be chained to his desk or something so this woman can't get near him.
You need to get out of here, you can't risk him seeing you, fuck knows what you'd end up saying. It'd either be sobbing that you loved him or you'd aim the soda you've just put back in the fridge at his little girlfriend's head.
You rush back to the car, you'll get your cream the doctor prescribed another time, and slam the door behind you.
Why did you think he'd ever think of you as anything more than Areum’s mom?
Thank fuck you didn't listen to Jeonghan. If you'd have told Wonwoo exactly how you feel and he turned round and said “Cool. Here's my girlfriend." You'd never be able to step foot out of your bedroom again. Ari would need to tell her friends that her mom was like a modern day Mrs Haversham and you'd just get little updates from Jeonghan through the door.
You've no idea what takes over you. But you do something you swore you'd never do. You'd always claimed it was like wading through the depths of hell.
But you do it anyway.
You take out your phone. And you download tinder.
"Does every breakfast need to be so dramatic?” Wonwoo groans, looking at you. But frowns a little when he realises you're not really paying attention to him. He likes your little chats whilst all the chaos unfolds around you both.
"Ari, come here let me do your hair.”
"Woowoo does my hair."
“Just," you sigh, scratching your brow, “come here. He's eating his breakfast,"
“I don't mind……”
"It's fine,” you don’t look at him and just turn Ari around when she comes over so you can do her hair.
"I was thinking we could have burgers for dinner. I got some steak and I want to try the new mincer thing I bought.”
"Yeeees!!!” Mingyu and Ari shout together.
"I can't, I've got plans.”
The three men stop eating their breakfasts and stare at you, the cereal from Mingyu’s spoon falling from his spoon.
"With who?”
"A friend.” You finish plaiting Areum’s hair and pat her bum to send her back to her chair.
"I thought we were your friends.”
“Yeah! What she said!" Jeonghan points at Ari, frowning at you.
“I do have a life, Jeonghan."
“Is it a new friend?" Mingyu asks bluntly.
“I met them on that thing." You mumble, not really wanting to have this conversation in front of Ari.
“What thing?" Wonwoo demands next to you, his face like thunder.
“The thing where people meet new friends."
They all share blank stares as Areum happily eats her cereal, her little legs swinging.
"What?”
"I met someone on tinder.” You say loudly and the silence that follows is palpable.
"What's a tinder?”
"It's, er, well,” shit you didn't want to just blurt that out, this is the first time you're using the dating rule and it's already going wrong, "it's….."
“It's something you use to start a fire."
“Why would mommy be starting fires?"
“I won't be," you glare at Mingyu, why the hell would he mention fires to a four year old?!
“You're going to start a fire with your new friend?"
“I'm just going to dinner with my new friend honey, there's no fire."
“Is she nice?"
“Yeah," Wonwoo glares, Mingyu and Jeonghan lowering themselves slightly in their seats, “is she nice?"
"Seems to be,” you shrug, not being drawn into admitting it's very much a man that you're going to dinner with.
"I think it's nice you have a friend mommy. I made some friends at school and I really like them. I think your friends will make you happy like my friends make me happy.”
"Hopefully,”
"Can I come?”
"Not this time honey, it's a fancy restaurant anyway, you won't like the food,” you tickle her tummy and make her giggle.
"Does that mean you'll get to dress like a princess?”
"I don't know, I haven't decided what to wear yet.”
"I think,” she puts her spoon down and kneels up on her chair so she can lean over to you, her little hands on your cheeks, "you always look like a princess. And," she puts her head close to yours so she can whisper to you, “don't forget that I'm your best friend mommy."
"I won't honey,” you take her little hands and place a kiss on each palm, "c’mon let's get you to school, if we hurry we can leave these three with all this mess.”
"Good plan mommy,” she whispers back and runs off to get her stuff.
"Soooooo,” Jeonghan says once Areum is out of earshot, "you're going on a date?”
"Is that not allowed?”
"I-it is!” Mingyu rushes to add in but throws a tentative glance at Wonwoo, "I just didn't know you were looking for that right now.”
"I haven't been on a date since I had Ari. In fact it was probably like two years before that. And you three all see people, no matter how much you hide it. Or think you do.”
They all frown at each other, Jeonghan rolling his eyes a little because he presumes you're talking about him and whoever you think he's seeing.
"Just, be careful.”
"Do you say that to Wonwoo or Mingyu?!”
"_____,” he groans, "I'm just looking out for you!”
"Well thanks,” you scrape your chair back and stand up to take your daughter to school, "but I'm 30 years old. I can't just watch everyone live their lives. What happens when you all get married and move out? I'll just be on my own!”
"Who said anything about getting married?!” Jeonghan shouts after you but you ignore him.
You're going on this date. Whether they like it or not.
You're an idiot. If you were to look up the word idiot in the dictionary there'd just be a huge fucking picture of you holding a big sign that reads "here's the world’s biggest idiot.”
Why did you think a date would be a good idea? Especially with someone who you've spent a grand total of forty hours talking to. But then when you subtract sleeping, panicking over what to reply and washing weird stains out of Ari's clothes, you'd probably spent closer to about two hours speaking to your date.
And you wish you hadn't.
Seokmin seemed nice enough when you matched with him. He was hot. He had a good job. He was the right age. But he spent the whole night laughing at everything you said.
You're hilarious, or you and Areum think you are anyway, but you literally said "do you want some bread?” And he more or less started rolling around on the floor laughing. You've no idea if it was a nervous habit or whether he was just on really hard drugs that made him think the simplest word was the funniest thing he's ever heard.
Whatever it was, when he dropped you home (around the corner because you didn't want this cackling creep to know where you lived), you vowed to delete tinder off your phone.
On your short walk home, you've prepared yourself for life.
You'll live your life painting, something you already do, but now you're a spinster you'll do it much more dramatically. You'll no longer paint landscapes, which is what you specialise in now. You'll become one of those artists that throws paint at things and then says it shows the bleak end that human civilization is heading for.
And you'll buy a cat. Or a dog. Or maybe a farm.
Jeonghan would probably take Areum, you've proved you can't look after her on your own. Fuck. You need to stop that, you can't start spiralling down that hole again because of this one set back.
Areum can come with you to the farm. You can be that weird mother and daughter that live on the edge of a forest and scare people as they go for hikes. She’d like that.
One thing is for sure, you're done dating. It isn't for you. You'll just have to wait until they've all got married, take the pitying looks from everyone as they see you gradually turn to peak eccentricity and then leave for your farm by the forest.
You take a deep breath before you open the apartment door and then enter the code. Everyone will be in bed, it's pretty late. But it's just knowing that at some point you're going to have to tell them that it was all pointless, that you'd embarrassingly chosen the weirdest man you could to go on a date with.
The apartment is dark other than a lamp they've left on for you and you head straight for the kitchen. You need a glass of wine and you didn't dare drink on your date for fear the laughing idiot made a move you weren't ready for.
The fridge light makes you squint and you grab the wine, wondering whether weird old ladies prefer red or white. It's probably rosé.
The wine glugs as you pour it. And then glugs a bit more as you fill it perilously close to the top.
“Bad night?"
“Fuck!" You spill wine on the kitchen counter, “shit."
“I’ve got it," Wonwoo rushes from his stool and grabs a cloth.
“I didn't know you were there," you shake the wine off your hand and put the bottle back in the fridge.
"Needed a glass of water,”
You just hum and take your glass of wine.
"Night then.”
"Wait,” you stop on your way to your bedroom, "do you not want to talk about it?”
"There's nothing to talk about. It was a date.” You still don't turn to look at him.
"Have I done something to upset you?”
"No.”
"Then why won't you turn around?”
"I'm going to bed.”
"Was he cruel or something?”
"Nope, it was fine."
You hear him sigh but you can't face him. It's fucking embarrassing knowing they're all moving on in life and you're stuck where you are.
“Goodnight," you mumble quietly and rush off to your room.
Wonwoo watches you go. He doesn't understand what's going on or why you've suddenly decided to download tinder. But hopefully, eventually, one of them can figure it out.
It turns out you were wrong. That photo of you in the dictionary with your big sign declaring yourself the world’s biggest idiot is now wrong. You now need a sign that reads “the universe’s biggest idiot” because as you lie on your daughter’s bed, your head pounding and your whole body cringing in horror, you can’t think of a single thing you’ve done that’s made you feel as horrible or as guilty as you do now.
Last night:
“Do you think I need to ring your mom again?
“No,” Jeonghan sighs.
“My mom?”
“_____ seriously she’s only gone for two nights and she’s with all of her grandparents, if anything she won’t even remember we exist.”
“You don’t think she loves us?”
“Why are you always such a whiney drunk?”
“I used to be a horny drunk but look where that got us.”
“I don’t think we’ve done too badly,” Jeonghan smiles as he leans against the kitchen counter with you.
“True,” you knock your beer back and squint into the distance, “do you know any of these people? I swear I only know Wonwoo in that whole crowd.”
“Nope. But Mingyu’s happy and he’s stopped crying because he’s turning thirty so I’ll happily take the loud music and an apartment full of strangers.”
You hum and take another sip of your drink.
“Why didn’t you bring someone?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirks at you.
“I haven’t got anyone to bring.” You turn away from him, your eyes drifting to Wonwoo who's trying to leave the little makeshift dance floor before Mingyu makes him dance with him again.
“Me neither.”
“Why do you keep doing that? I know you’re seeing someone, why can’t you just tell me?”
“I’m…..Fuck…..” He looks at the ceiling with worried eyes.
“Do I know her or something?”
“It’s…..It’s not a she.”
If you weren’t four beers in, your brain might not need quite so long to catch up with what he’s just said. But you’ve always been a light weight which means Jeonghan has to wait awkwardly whilst you realise what he’s just said.
“A he?” You turn to him fully, putting your beer down.
“Hm-mm,” He looks down.
“Is he nice to you?”
“What?” He frowns.
“Is he kind?”
“Yes?”
“Good.” You nod, “That’s all that matters.”
“That’s it?”
“Jeonghan, I just want you to be happy. If you’ve realised that happiness is with a man, then that’s great.”
“You’re the first one I’ve told. I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks.” He says like he’s had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I knew you were up to something,” You narrow your eyes at him and poke his chest, “I love you Jeonghan.”
He pulls you in for a hug mumbling an “I love you too” with a roll of his eyes. It’s clear he’s been worrying about telling you, or even anyone, about who he was seeing but why, you don’t know.
“Thank you _____,”
“What for?” You ask into his shoulder.
“Everything. I’ve got the most beautiful little girl and an amazing life. Just. Thank you. For trusting me all those years ago.”
“And I’m the whiney drunk?” You pull back to look at him.
“I guess we both lost our drunk horniness.” He chuckles as you both lean back against the counter with your drinks.
You wait what you hope is an acceptable amount of time before you ask what you really want to know.
“Is he hot?”
“So fucking hot.” He high fives you.
“SHOTS. COME ON YOU TWO!”
“Do we have to?”
“He isn’t going to leave us alone if we don’t.” Jeonghan grumbles and drags you over to the party.
----------------
You’ve had far too much to drink. Everyone has had far too much to drink. Some idiot decided that playing spin the bottle was a great idea and when you, Jeonghan and Wonwoo said absolutely not, you’re not seventeen years old, you got forced into the circle anyway.
The bottle missed you every time thankfully but when it was your turn to spin the bottle of dread, it landed on the one person you didn’t want. Because of course it did.
The bottle landed on Wonwoo and even through your drunken haze you could see he wasn’t impressed. Handily. Right at the second you’d tried to make your way over to him, he got a phone call from the hospital he couldn’t miss.
Because what’s more embarrassing than playing spin the bottle at thirty years old? Playing spin the bottle at thirty years old and the recipient of your impending kiss literally running away from you.
The game finishes and you’re more than a little drunk and you’re more than a little pissed off.
You’re going to find that gorgeous ass hole of man and you’re going to defend your own honour.
You march around the apartment until you finally find him, trying to sort the trash out.
“Wonw-woo,” you stammer, swaying towards him.
“Hey! I wondered where you’d got to!” He smiles.
You want to punch him. How dare he smile at you like he smiled at that woman.
“I’m not the one who ran off!”
“What do you mmmpf,”
He doesn’t have a chance to answer you. You throw yourself at him, your lips smacking into his more like you’re attacking him than kissing him. If you were sober you’d see his wide eyes and arms flailing around so he doesn’t fall. But you don’t because you’re more interested in kissing him with so much force that his lips will be too sore to show that smile you love so much to anyone else other than you. Your hands hold his cheeks as you lose yourself for what feels like an hour but is probably more like a few seconds and then finally release him.
“What the…….”
“I’m gonna be sick,” You manage to get out before you run off to the bathroom.
So that’s how you find yourself here. The day after Mingyu’s thirtieth birthday party, on your daughter’s bed and avoiding the world outside of these four walls. You’ve no idea why you’d decided to spend the day in her room. You woke up, had a shower and then the flashbacks started and you felt yourself folding in on yourself. You weren’t just embarrassed, you were fucking mortified.
It’s probably because her room is literally like being in the clouds. You’d spent weeks painting clouds on the walls and ceiling when she was ready for her own room.
It was relaxing to some extent and it felt like she was near to you, cuddling by your side and telling you about her day. Instead of it just being you in your cave of embarrassment.
The door creaks open and all you can think is that you hope it’s not Wonwoo.
It’s obvious why he didn’t want to kiss anyone. It’s obvious why he pretended he had a phone call. Maybe not obvious to everyone who doesn’t know he’s seeing someone but you did. And in your stupid drunken state you kissed him anyway and you feel fucking terrible. You know he would never be the kind to cheat, he must be feeling fucking awful. He probably hates you and he’d have every reason to.
Such a stupid, selfish thing to do to a man who has only ever shown you and Areum kindness and warmth.
“Hey,” Jeonghan’s head pokes through the door with Mingyu’s head just above it, “can we come in?”
“Sure.” You keep staring at the ceiling with your head on your daughter’s pillow. “Do you have to do that!”
“What?! How else do you want me to lie down?” Mingyu glares down at you as he clambers over you so he’s between you and the wall.
Is nothing sacred? Now you’ve got Mingyu on one side and Jeonghan on the other, all three of you staring at the ceiling on Areum’s single bed.
“This bed isn’t built for three. You're barely on it."
“Well if you’d mope in your own room, we’d have more space wouldn’t we.” Jeonghan scolds you.
“What’s going on?" Mingyu asks softly.
“Nothing."
“_____, please. You've been weird for days. Please just talk to us." Jeonghan reaches for your hand, Mingyu taking your other.
“I'm," you sigh, “I'm scared."
“Of what?"
“Life?"
“Should I call the doctor or something?" Jeonghan rushes to sit up but you make him lie back down.
“It's not that." You think about how to phrase it. “You're all moving on."
“I've been dating for a month or so!"
“And Hyeji is already on a plane home! I actually think we work better in other countries."
“I don't mean like that. I just mean, you're all dating, you're open to dating. And I'm scared of the future. Last time I was on my own with Ari I couldn't be what she needed.”
"You're a great mom!” Mingyu interrupts.
"I am now,”
"You were then.” Jeonghan says bluntly, squeezing your hand.
"I'm just……I'm scared to be on my own when you've all moved on. I'm not saying you won't be there for her,"
“We'll be there for you too. And you can date! You can do whatever you want to!"
“I don't want to. Well I do……what I want isn’t important. I can't have what I want."
They both stay silent. They know what you want. They know who you want.
"I feel like life's moving on and leaving me behind and I don't want to be the reason you all hold yourselves back. I don't want to be the person I was when I left Areum at your door but I don't want you to not be able to move on because I left her at your door."
“Fuck that's a lot of feelings all at once _____." Mingyu mumbles.
“Do you want to know something?"
“Go on," you and Mingyu turn your heads to Jeonghan, him still looking at the ceiling.
“I worried you'd all move on without me. I was having all these feelings about who I was attracted to……"
“He's told me about his hot piece of ass," Mingyu whispers in your ear.
“And I didn't think I'd ever come to terms with being bi."
You squeeze his hand, knowing that's the first time he's probably said that out loud.
“But before that I'd already decided, you all wouldn't get rid of me."
“What do you mean?"
“My parents are building a new luxury complex. And the top floor has three apartments, even bigger than this one. We'll have one each." He says matter of factly.
“And you've just decided that?"
“I mean you can all do what you want but it's there."
“You planned it out? For us?"
“I like our little family. I think it's good for Areum."
“I couldn't face having to tell her that she couldn't see any of you anymore, she has three dads. She proudly tells people she has her daddy, her Wooowoo daddy and Gyugyu daddy. I couldn't bear her not seeing any of you, that's what I've been worrying about. That and how I’d cope."
“Wait, we're not moving yet are we?"
"They're still trying to get planning permits. It'll be a couple of years yet.”
"A couple of years of more of this sounds good.” Mingyu snuggles his head onto your shoulder and you do the same to Jeonghan.
A gentle silence falls, some of the worries eased about what would happen as you all kept growing. And knowing you'd be able to meet people or date or marry or just do whatever you wanted but still near each other, helps more than Jeonghan probably realises.
“Did something happen at the party?" Jeonghan asks softly.
“I think I upset Wonwoo. I think I made him do something that'll hurt someone."
“Who?"
“When I was at the hospital I saw him with the woman he's seeing. I don't know why he didn't just tell us he was seeing someone."
“He is? I don't think he….”
“Yeah. And I've done something that’ll hurt both of them."
"He'll understand, whatever it is.”
"I doubt it.”
"Go see him,” Jeonghan replies.
"He's not here is he?”
"Go see him at work. If it's making you feel this bad, go and say you're sorry. At least then when he gets home from work and Ari comes back from being with her grandparents, there'll be no awkwardness."
“When did you become so good with these things, Kim Mingyu?”
"I finally fucked my girlfriend in real life. It changes a man.”
"Oh my god is that what that noise was?! I thought there was a cat being strangled somewhere!”
You laugh but smack Jeonghan on the chest for being mean, though even Mingyu snorts. He was pretty fucking loud, taking full advantage of there being no Areum around.
"Jeonghan?”
"Yeah?”
"These apartments, do I……”
"Yes you have to pay rent Mingyu.”
The three of you giggle and keep staring at the painted clouds on the ceiling but you know what you've got to do. Just two more minutes of peaceful bliss and you'll do it. You'll man up and take responsibility for your actions.
If only it was as hard to find cardiology as it was to find the pharmacy. Once Mingyu and Jeonghan had told you it'd all be fine for the four thousandth time, you got in the car and seemed to arrive at the hospital way quicker than you thought was possible.
Will he be even more pissed at you because you're disturbing him at work? Will he have already told his girlfriend what happened? Fuck if she's also working today she'll probably have security throw you out of the hospital.
“Can I help you?"
“Oh!" You spin round to find a woman in scrubs sitting at a desk in the centre of the department.
“You look a little lost." She says kindly.
“I'm looking for Won…I-I mean Dr Jeon?"
“Are you a patient? I think he's in surgery at the moment. I could…..”
"_____?”
"Wonwoo?” You look up to find him walking out of some double doors that lead to the operating theatres, pulling his scrub cap off and looking confused.
Fuck. She's with him. She doesn't look pissed, so maybe he hasn't told her yet. Maybe you should? It might sound better coming from another woman? You could explain everything you're feeling and she might not be as pissed. But that's fucking selfish, to expect her to just understand that you've kissed her boyfriend.
“Is Ari ok? What's wrong?" He rushes over to you, all of his colleagues trying to not look interested in who this woman is that clearly knows the hot heart surgeon.
"She's fine. I just needed to talk to you,”
He gestures for you to move a little further away from where his colleagues have congregated.
"Why? What's wrong?"
What's wrong?! He can't be serious.
“Do you think she'd talk to me?"
“Who?"
“Your girlfriend," you mutter under your breath, looking over at the woman who doesn't seem bothered that you're talking to him.
So she must not know then.
"_____ what are you talking about?” He's looking more and more concerned, he must've been stressed all day about it.
"I know she'll have every right to hate me and I know you probably hate me. Fuck I shouldn't have done it, I'll tell her it was all me. I was just upset, I swear I never meant to cause any trouble,”
"What? Wait. Er Dr Kim,” he gets the attention of another doctor by the desk, "I just need to sort something out, could you do the post op checks and then we'll run through what you'll need to do tomorrow when I'm off.”
"No problem boss!”
"Come with me.” He mumbles, making you follow him down a corridor.
Surely he's not not going to tell her what happened. That's not Wonwoo.
He opens a door and gestures for you to walk into what appears to be an on call room and your stomach drops. This is where he tells you he hates you and he wants you to leave the apartment, he'll probably say you're a bad influence on Ari and you shouldn't be around her either.
"Right.” He closes the door. "What are you talking about?”
"I've been worrying all day and I swear I didn't mean to cause you any problems! I was just sad you obviously didn't want to kiss me during spin the bottle but my drunk brain didn't comprehend that of course you didn't want to kiss me. You've got a girlfriend that you're clearly more than happy with. And I suppose I should apologise for telling Mingyu and Jeonghan about her, you were obviously trying to keep it private but I saw you when I came for my appointment, I wasn't spying on you," you rush to say, “I just stopped for a drink when I was looking for the pharmacy and saw you. I left straight away, I promise."
“Why didn't you come over if you saw me while you were here?"
“You said you had plans, I didn't want to interrupt your date."
He blinks at you.
“Is this why you've been weird with me? Because of what you saw."
Curse him for being so clever. Though it doesn't take a doctor to figure out why you crashed out so much.
“Fuck I may as well just be honest." You sigh, “I saw you and it was like everything flashed before me, you all moving on now you're all seeing someone and me just stuck where I am now. Or worse back where I was before I moved in with you all. I got back in the car and downloaded that fucking app and ended up on a date with an absolute weirdo. I actually blame Jeonghan more than anything, he was going on about telling you and what would that have even achieved!"
“I thought you did tell me? You said you had an appointment and asked me for lunch,"
“R-right," you still need to cover up what Jeonghan actually meant, “exactly you said you were busy. You had a date."
“So why just be weird with me? You've been fine with Mingyu and Jeonghan."
You stare at him. How the hell do you get around that?
“Fuuuuckk," you groan with your head in your hands as you take a deep breath. “I like you. I've liked you since about six months after I moved in. I've sat in my bed and cried every time you've been on a date over the years. And last night I took it too far, I saw you clearly fake a call to get out of kissing me during that stupid fucking game and I saw red. I just wanted…. I don't even know what I wanted." You pause, “I wanted you. But you're not mine and now I owe you and her a massive apology. My head's been all over the place and that's no excuse and I've probably ruined your relationship and…."
“_____,"
“....you probably hate me and….”
"_____,”
".....you probably don't even want me near you, I'll move……”
"_____!!!”
You jump when he shouts at you.
“Take a deep breath. Please."
Why is he being nice to you? He should be telling you to fuck off. But you follow his breathing when he takes a deep breath and you feel a little less anxious.
“Thank you," you breathe again, “but you shouldn't be being nice, you should….."
“Will you please shut the fuck up!"
You slam your mouth shut, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"That woman,”
"I'll apologise to her! I promise!”
"_____.” He grabs your cheeks, "Please. Stop talking. Just shut. Up. And listen to me.”
You nod dumbly, his hands still on your cheeks.
"I don't have a girlfriend. And I haven't been on a date in fucking ages, in fact I think I've had five since you've been fully in our lives and they've all been shit.”
"Then who….."
“Shut up," he whispers, smirking at you like he knows it's physically hurting you to shut your damn mouth, “the woman you saw me with is a student who's been with us for two weeks to learn about a new technique we're trying out. What you saw was an interview for her research paper."
He must see the relief in your eyes because his smirk turns into a small smile.
“I wouldn't go on a date with anyone because I like someone else."
Well fuck. You're certain he must've been able to hear your heart break. Whoever works in the well hidden pharmacy probably heard it.
“Do you want me to tell you about her?"
No. You don't want to hear about her. Why would you want to hear about her?!
And besides. He's told you not to speak and so now he can deal with the consequences of those words.
"You can speak.” He rolls his eyes.
Oh fuck.
"I don't really want to hear it,”
"No?” He steps even closer to you, his hands still holding your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your skin a little.
You shake your head.
"I'll tell you anyway. She's a similar height to you." He smiles softly, “she actually has the same hair colour as you. And really similar eyes. She's funny and kind and so fucking hot."
You hate her.
“And she makes me excited to get out of bed each morning."
Fucking bitch.
“She’s the most talented artist I've ever met."
She's probably a sculptor. They're all hot. Fucking assholes.
"She’s actually really good friends with Mingyu. And she knows Jeonghan better than anyone. And she has the most beautiful daughter, who loves to read murder mysteries and does makeovers on me every Friday night. I'm still actually getting the glitter off me from the last one.”
Well if he wanted all that he could've just….wait. You frown at him.
“Are you saying?"
“I literally couldn't make it more obvious _____," he smiles at you, his thumbs still brushing your cheeks.
"So you're not in love with that woman?!”
"No, I'm in love with someone else.”
"Me?” You point at yourself.
"Yes _____, you.” He chuckles. "Surely Jeonghan and Mingyu told you that me dating someone would be bullshit? They've been telling me to tell you for months. If not years."
“They probably tried," you admit, you did think Mingyu wanted to say something when you were telling them.
"Why didn't you just tell me? Instead of downloading fucking tinder and making me want to strangle whoever you'd been on a date with.”
"Is that why you were in the kitchen?”
"I'd been there two hours.”
"That's a pretty big glass of water.”
"Hm,” he hums, pulling you against him, his arms around your waist, "almost as big as your glass of wine. I would’ve made a bigger deal out of you ignoring me but a massive part of me was just pleased it had clearly gone badly."
“Well thanks!" You scoff.
"You still should've told me.”
"I didn't want to ruin things when you said you didn't feel the same, I couldn't bear it if it affected your relationship with Ari or it ruined our little family. And,” you think about it, "you could've told me y’know!”
"I just have.”
"After several breakdowns on my part.”
"Well I didn't know why you were being weird!”
"At least Jeonghan isn't wasting his time with the apartment complex now I know you don't hate me. Wait.”
"What?” He mumbles, watching you thinking about something.
"He said there were three apartments.”
"Who did?”
"Jeonghan.”
"Can you rewind a bit. What apartments and what complex?”
"Jeonghan’s parents are building a new apartment complex. He said earlier when we were in bed,”
"When you were what?!”
"I was spiralling in Ari’s room and then they joined me and we just sort of lay there and figured life out.”
"I've always wondered what you three do when I'm at actual work.”
"Hey we work! Well. I do. Well I paint. And Mingyu does whatever he does. And I don't really know…..what would we class Jeonghan as? Our house husband?”
"I don't know,” he laughs, putting a stray piece of hair behind your ear and making you shiver a little. "Tell me about how you figured life out in the space of a day please.”
"Oh yeah. Well his parents are building a whole new luxury apartment complex and he's reserved the whole top floor for us. Obviously we'd pay rent,"
“I bet Mingyu was thrilled with that,"
“Oh he's probably still pouting," you dismiss, “but he said there's three apartments. And I didn't think anything of it when he said it but he knew? Not that I'm saying we’re going to live together…”
"We do live together,”
"Oh yeah,” you grin, "but yeah, so he said three. That man is so sneaky.”
“Wait so we're moving?"
“Oh they're not built yet, it'll be a couple of years.”
“I could do a couple more years of this," He holds you closer.
“That's what we said." You smile and finally wrap your arms around him too.
You gaze at him and it feels very like he's about to finally kiss you, his eyes keep flitting down to your lips but that reminds you of something.
“Hold on. If you like me,"
“Love you." He corrects.
“Love me,” you roll your eyes, "I love you too by the way. But if you love me, why did you run away and pretend to have a phone call during spin the bottle?”
"Because, and call me old fashioned, but I'd have quite liked the woman I've been in love with for years to be sober when we had our first kiss. And I didn't want it to be in front of a room full of drunk strangers.”
"Oh.” Your cheeks heat, "I ruined that then.”
"Not really. You just very aggressively kissed my chin last night.”
"Well you could've told me that! I've been worrying about being a homewrecker all day!”
"How could I tell you when I didn't know what you've been thinking!”
You narrow your eyes at him.
"Very clever Dr Jeon.”
"Don't do that.” He mutters.
"What?”
"Call me Dr Jeon."
“Don't people call you that all the time?"
“They do," he holds you a little closer again, “but it sounds different when you say it. Makes me feel like I've got all the power."
“Is that right?" You quirk your brow at him.
“Mm,"
His lips are so close you can feel his breath, fuck it's actually happening.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Fuck,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks it, "I've got to go, the shifts ending and I need to do hand over. I'll be like twenty minutes? I'm off work tomorrow so I need to do handover to the night team and my team who’re in tomorrow.”
"It's fine,” you smile, but he's still holding you.
"Did you drive here?”
"Yeah,”
"I didn't. I got a cab. I know I only had two drinks but I didn't want to take the risk and it was so early when I left for work. Wait for me? And we’ll go home together?”
"Sounds good.”
"I really want to kiss you,” he glances at your lips again, "but if I start I won't want to stop.”
"Then go, the sooner you're done, the sooner we can go. It works quite well actually, I need to find the pharmacy.”
“Still?"
“Well I was trying to not cry when I left the other day."
"It's near the entrance.”
"What?! I walked around this damn hospital hundreds of times the other day!”
“They’re probably closed now," he checks his watch.
“How can a hospital pharmacy close? Do people not need things all the time?"
“They do," he strokes your cheek again, “but it's separate for inpatients. What is it you need?"
“Oh," you search your pockets, these are the same jeans from the other day you threw on, “a-ha! This," you hand it to him.
“Er," he checks the prescription, “I'll get one of the nurses to get it. He owes me a favour for covering for him doing something completely unsanitary in here last week."
You grimace at the dingy bed in the corner. The horrors that bed must've seen.
“I'll wait in the car then.” You kiss his cheek and try not to smile at how it flusters him.
"Ok.”
But he doesn't move, he just gazes at you, his fingers drawing patterns on your back.
“Go," you shew him off you, “go be an important doctor and I'll be waiting in the car."
“Promise?" He opens the door and you follow him out.
“I promise." You kiss his other cheek but this time he's ready for you and he kisses you back on your cheek straight away.
“Bye then," he whispers, kissing the other.
“Bye." You grin and turn to head out, turning left off the corridor.
“_____? Other way!"
He smiles as you reappear sheepishly.
“I'll be in the car,” you point and head in the right direction.
"I'll be as quick as I can!” He shouts after you and heads back to work.
You more or less skip to the car, a smile plastered on your face and your stomach full of butterflies.
You intend to do two things when you get home. One, kiss Wonwoo until your lips are chapped. And two, kill Mingyu and Jeonghan for clearly knowing a lot more than they were letting on.
"Where are you two going?”
"Hello!” Jeonghan replies looking like him and Mingyu have been caught doing something they absolutely shouldn’t be doing.
"Fancy seeing you here!"
“Mingyu. We live here. Where are you going?" You refuse to move out of the way of the elevator, Wonwoo looking pretty sheepish too at the side of you.
"We've decided we can't go on without seeing our daughter. So we're going to see her.”
"You're driving two hundred miles to the coast to see Areum when she'll be home tomorrow afternoon?”
"Y-yes.” They look at each other.
"You told me I was being ridiculous last night when I said we needed to keep checking on her.”
"Oh y’know, things change.” Jeonghan shrugs.
"Jeonghan.” You step closer to him, narrowing your eyes, "You're willingly travelling all that way, to arrive really late at night when Areum will already be asleep to spend a few hours with her and your parents and my parents,”
"Wonwoo’s are there too! Mine couldn't go because they……" Mingyu's words trail off when you all glare at him.
"What's the point?”
He glances at Wonwoo who's still looking more than a little awkward.
"Oh I can't lie to her Wonwoo, she knows all my tells,” he gives up. "He rang, told us to fuck off for the night.” He points at Wonwoo. "We're going to stay at my parents’ while they're not there.”
"When did you do that?” You frown at Wonwoo.
"As I was walking to your car. I just thought we needed some space before Ari comes back,”
"Space.” Mingyu snickers.
"Yes Mingyu space. It's been a bit of a mad day." Wonwoo's stern look stops Mingyu's smugness.
“We'll be going then," Jeonghan barges past you, dragging Mingyu along with him.
“Don't have too much fun." Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Idiot." You say under your breath, you and Wonwoo looking at them in the elevator.
The doors start to close.
“_____!" Jeonghan says quickly before the door closes, “don't forget to use protection!" You hear them both fall about laughing as they disappear completely.
Silence. Clearly Wonwoo was hoping they'd already be gone before you got home.
“I'm sorry," he groans, scratching his neck, “I just thought we needed to talk or just spend some time together? Without having to be quiet or having those two just listening to everything we say."
“Wonwoo," you sigh, “I'm not annoyed or anything. It's just we've only just confessed and I don't want all our parents asking questions, because I know those two won't be able to keep their mouths shut, and confusing Ari."
“I've already told them all. Check the group chat. I'm sorry I couldn't keep it in, I've just waited so long and I thought it's one less thing for you to worry about."
Your eyebrows knit together as you pull your phone out.
Wonwoo: Just so we're all on the same page. Me and _____ are in a relationship. I'll be taking no questions and please don't tell Areum yet. Enjoy your break, see you when you're back.
Well. Putting that in the group chat you have with all your parents and Mingyu and Jeonghan is certainly one way to tell them all.
“Very efficient." You chuckle. “Wait. Your mom says it's about time? Mine says it's only taken us four years? Even Jeonghan's mom is saying she knew. My dad owes Mingyu's dad money, they had a bet?! They all knew?!"
“It appears the only two that didn't know, is us." He smiles.
"Typical.” You scoff.
"You're not annoyed with me for telling them to fuck off?”
"A whole night without the troublesome twosome? I'm ecstatic.”
“Did you eat yet?"
“No. But that's why you sent them away? To eat?" You smirk, stepping closer to him.
“Don't start something you can't finish _____."
“Who says I can't finish it?"
“You weren’t lying,” you smile as Wonwoo grabs your t-shirt and pulls your lips back to his.
The second you uttered those fated words near the elevator, his lips were on yours and you’d barely detached yourselves from each other to breathe let alone check where you were going. Your bedroom is on the third floor of the penthouse and you’re certain both of you will have shins covered in bruises from how many times you bumped into shit on your way up here. Yes, you could've just stopped kissing. But that’s not an option. Not now you know how fucking good he is at it.
“Wait what? You think I’m lying about loving you?”
“No,” you giggle, kissing his lips one more time, “I meant you weren’t lying about not being able to stop once you’ve started.”
He just rolls his eyes and drags you back to his perfect lips, backing you towards your bed but he bangs into your bedside table as he does it.
“For fucks sake!” he switches your lamp on, ready to give you a stern talking to for laughing at him but he spots something that causes him to do a double take.
“No!!” You launch forward but it’s too late, he’s already grabbed it.
“What’s this?” He murmurs, inspecting what’s in his hand.
“What does it look like?” You mumble, trying to grab it, “give it to me Wonwoo.”
“Do you always just leave your dildos about the place?”
“I don’t have dildos, I have a dildo.”
“So if I open this draw I won’t find like ten more sex toys?” he raises his brow at you.
“No,” you fold your arms, “I mean sure there’s a clit sucker thing but what do you want me to do?! It’s not illegal! It’s not……”
He fists your t-shirt and pulls you flush against him.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” He smirks as he grips your chin and moves your head to the side, “just thinking of all the things we could do. May as well make you well and truly mine whilst I can, once everyone is back it’ll be sneaking around and trying to be quiet. Something you’re famously not good at.” He hisses in your ear.
“Are you saying I talk too much?”
“Oh baby you never shut the fuck up.” He smiles wickedly. “I do have some ideas of how to make you shut up though. Would you be interested in hearing them?”
You clench your thighs together. You always got the feeling that he was like this in the bedroom. You’d never heard him, he’d never brought anyone home at all. But he’s just too sweet and caring in everyday life to not be a fucking freak in the bedroom.
“I might be.” You try to say like you’re not ready to let him do whatever the fuck he wants.
“Is this all ok?”
He makes sure you look at him properly, his kind eyes showing you he doesn’t want to do anything you’re not ready for or comfortable with.
“Yeah,” You smile, kissing him again, “I’ve thought about this for so long. Do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?”
You pause.
“No anal. At least not now.” You think about it for a minute, “Or slapping. And I haven’t got any condoms but I am on birth control so if you’re clean, I’m fine with going raw.”
“Really? I thought you…….”
“You thought I’d be scared of getting pregnant? I got pregnant because we were both fucking idiots. I’m not going to do that again. Not yet anyway.”
His face softens when he realises that you’re implying you want everything you can with him. Just not right now.
“I really do love you y’know.” He smiles, kissing your forehead. “But,” he stands back from you. “Kneel down.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter? Kneel down.”
“Should I?” You look down at your clothes.
“Keep them on, until I’ve moulded your throat to the shape of my dick at least.”
“Fuck.” You fall to your knees in wonder, Wonwoo trying not to smile at how quickly you’ve submitted to him.
He places the dildo down on the bed side table, the glint of something wicked in his eyes and slowly undresses in front of you.
Your eyes follow every moment, every inch of skin being uncovered that you've craved to touch for so long. He's big, he always has been but recently he seems to have grown even bigger, even stronger. You've always got the impression that if you were wrapped in his arms, nothing bad in the world or in your head could get you.
His boxers are the last to go and the second they're off his dick slaps against his abdomen.
Well it turns out all of him is big then. Fuck he's going to ruin you and you're going to enjoy every last second of it.
He crouches down, tucking his finger under your chin and makes you look at him.
“For someone who talks so much you've really hurt me these past few days _____. Ignoring me, making me feel like I've done something wrong," he sighs. “I think… I think I need some reassurance. That'll you treat me well, that you'll use your pretty little mouth properly in the future. Do you want to show me, baby? Show me just how well your mouth works?"
You frown in confusion before he reaches just a little behind where you're kneeling and brings the dildo back into view.
“Show me."
Jesus.
He's still crouching down to you, completely naked and dick rock hard whilst you're kneeling on the floor fully clothed and clearly nothing more than a source of entertainment to him.
He brings the silicone tip closer to you and every part of you melts for the man in front of you. Fully ready to give him whatever he wants.
Making sure you look him in the eye, yours burning into his, you let a little spit drip from your mouth. Just enough to wet the tip as it slowly falls from your mouth. His eyes falter a little like he didn't think you'd match his freak quite as much.
But that's where he's wrong.
You've spent night after night thinking of the most obscene fantasies your brain could conjure.
You let your tongue trace around where the hole would be, flicking it a little showing him exactly how good you'll be for him.
Your lips wrap around the tip, imagining it's his and your eyes finally leave his to look at his dick. Your eyebrows knit together, a look of concentration on your face as you focus on how he's already dribbling a little precum. You start to bob your head as he holds it for you, his eyes transfixed by the way you're sucking the dildo but clearly imagining it's him.
You hum around it, desperate to show him just how much you want him, weirdly even wanting to make him proud of the way you're performing for him.
“You're doing so well," he murmurs, his free hand coming to hold your cheek as you keep bobbing on the dildo.
He kneels on the floor in front of you but sitting up on his knees so he's taller than you, giving you an even better view of him and making you moan around the dildo.
“Awww baby, are you desperate?"
You nod as best you can, hoping this means he'll let you near him.
“Yeah?" His smile turns wicked, “prove it for me."
And he shoves the dildo further into your mouth making you gag on it. Fuck this is more than you could’ve imagined and he's not even touched you. You're not even undressed and you feel like he's wrecked you.
Wonwoo starts fucking the dildo in and out of your mouth, a smirk on his face as he watches you gag around it, the tears and drool only making the sight even prettier for him. And yet his thumb strokes your cheek like it did when he was telling you he loved you earlier, nothing but gentleness in the loving touch.
"Good girl _____, you're doing so well. You look so pretty like this, so needy for me,"
You move your head even quicker, desperately sucking the dildo, him meeting your movements and making your gag occasionally.
“I'm so sorry _____. If I'd have known you were up here, fucking yourself with this," he shoves it down your throat and your eyes roll back as you choke, "I'd have done something sooner, ruined you so much sooner."
His gentle voice mixed with him fucking your throat with the dildo has you in a space you've never been in before but fuck you love it.
It's when he spots you wiggling a little bit, desperately trying to relieve some of the tension between your legs, that he realises just how much he needs to feel you. You've put on a pretty little show for him but he’s dreamt about your lips wrapped around him for so long and you're clearly so ready for him.
His hand that was on your cheek moves to your hair. He isn't overly harsh with it, he doesn't want to hurt you, but he gets your hair in a half assed ponytail as he stands up. Wonwoo yanks you off the dildo, your lips swollen and chin wet and he was going to check in with you but you lunge forward and he doesn't stop you. He's not even sure if he could.
You don't even ease him into it, just adjust your mouth because he's bigger than your dildo and go to town. Your tongue runs flat along the bottom of him whilst you bob your head frantically, your hands on his thighs steadying you because of how desperately you're fucking your face onto his dick.
“Fucking hell," he throws his head back, “I told you to show me on your fucking dildo," he groans, his hips twitching when you swirl your tongue around his tip and go back to your bobbing, “you didn't show me shit. Fuck why are you so good at that?"
Oh he's not seen anything yet, of course you weren't going to really go to town on a fucking dildo.
You bob a little more, your cheeks hollowed and lips tight around him. Just a couple more bobs and then you fully take him in your mouth. Well your throat. And then swallow around him.
The whine Wonwoo lets out above you should've been recorded. Then you could listen to it on nights when he's at work and you need him. Because just that one whine could get you off again and again.
"Right. No. Get off,” he tries to move you back but you send a glare his way and flick his tip defiantly.
"_____,” he warns, "Get. Off.”
You roll your eyes and take his dick out of your mouth.
"What?!”
He pauses for a second, something clicking in his mind and he finally realises this is actually happening. You're actually kneeling in front of him, you drool on your t-shirt and cheeks damp from your tears.
“I'm not about to cum in your mouth for our first time having sex."
“Then cum wherever you want," you say like it's obvious, “but why have you stopped me? Come back here,” you try to crawl forward.
"No.” He crouches down in front of you again, a weirdly proud smile on his lips. "Get on the bed.”
You clamber up, not really caring how needy you look. You are needy for him. Just the same way he is for you.
“Wait," you huff as you flop down on your bed, leaning on your elbows as he watches you fondly, “should I take these off?" You gesture to your clothes.
“I'll do it," he shrugs, crawling up the bed to you, looking like an overly hot predator.
"Oh I could get used to this.” You lie back.
"Good.” He hovers over you, his thumb wiping your lip, "I'm gonna treat you so well _____. We've spent so long avoiding what was clearly so obvious, if you said you wanted the moon I'd try to find a way to get it for you.”
You smile up at him, the man who you're fairly certain is the love of your life and realise you've never been happier.
His lips linger on yours one last time before they move slowly down your neck, feather light kisses heating every patch of skin they touch.
One of his hands rests by your head, the other stroking your waist as his lips travel over your cloth covered breasts, mumbling into your t-shirt the occasional “so pretty" and “I'm so lucky."
His hand that was on your waist moves to shimmy under your t-shirt and he must feel you tense up.
You hadn't even been worrying about it. It simply never occurred to you. It didn't need to occur to you.
"What's wrong?” He asks straight away, a flash of worry on his handsome features, his hand paused.
"I haven't been,” you swallow, a whole new bunch of worries now fogging your brain, "I haven't been naked in front of anyone since I had Areum. I didn't even realise I was worried about it until you moved your hand.”
"No one?”
"Do you think I've been sneaking men up here?”
"No,” he smiles, "I just wasn't sure….."
"The last time was when I got pregnant with Areum."
“I swear it doesn't bother me," he rushes to say, “I know you and Jeonghan were nothing serious. I just wasn't sure." He shrugs, stroking your hair now he's moved his hand.
"I'm used to my body. And I don't hate my body. It just hit me that it looks different from the last time someone else saw me naked.”
"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met,” he smiles when you fluster a little, "but if you want to wait and stop, we can do.”
"I don't want to stop.” You say much too quickly and make him laugh.
"Then tell me how you want this to go baby.”
"I've told you, whatever you want.” You move his hair off his forehead, "I just got in my own head for a second. I'm good now.”
"You're sure?”
"So sure." You peck his lips.
He looks at you for a couple more seconds, just to double check and then goes back to his little kisses all over your breasts through your t-shirt. His hand moves slowly back under it so his finger tips can wander over your stomach and along your waist.
Wonwoo glances up at you one last time and then lifts your t-shirt. You sit up so he can take it off easier and before you can even lay back down properly he kisses you again so you don't have any chance to feel self conscious. His tongue is messy as it explores your mouth and your fingers bury in his hair to hold him closer to you, losing yourself in the taste of him.
His hand slips under your back, his tongue still dancing with yours, and unclasps your bra. Huh, turns out he is really good with his hands. Your bra is thrown on the floor with your t-shirt and his lips go travelling again.
You watch as his eyes take you in every time his lips travel lower down your body. Teasing kisses are dotted over your tits and on your nipples, making you squirm when you think he's going to take one into his mouth. But he doesn't, he just shows you with his lips how much he loves you.
He kisses down your stomach and stops when his lips meet your jeans.
“You're perfect _____." His eyes run all over your body, marvelling at you beneath him. “I'm so lucky."
He kneels between your legs and you prop yourself on your elbows.
“Can I?" He plays with the button on your jeans.
You don't answer with words, just lift your ass up so he can take them off.
“Fuck." He stares down when he's thrown your jeans on the floor and spots just how wrecked your panties are.
“What?"
“You're fucking dripping."
His fingers trace over your pantie clad pussy making you shiver. The touch is hardly there and yet drives you crazy.
“So wet," he says in wonder, “and it's all mine isn't it ____? It's all for me?" He pulls the drenched cloth away from your aching pussy with his finger and lets them snap back, the sting making you startle.
“Answer me _____," he presses two fingers onto your soaked mound and if you didn't have your underwear on, they'd be between your folds, exactly where you want them.
“All yours," you nod desperately, “it's just for you."
“Yeah?" He says darkly, “do you get this wet when you're up here using this?" He holds up the dildo.
Where the fuck had he hidden that?!
"I bet you're fucking dripping aren't you?” He presses the tip to you, "fucking yourself with this night after night. What do you think of, baby?”
The pressure of the tip is exactly on your clit, it would just take the tiniest movement and you'd get some sweet relief.
“Who," he presses a tiny bit harder, it doesn't hurt but fuck does it make you twitch from the added friction, “do you think of?"
“You." You whisper. “Always you. Only you."
“What a waste of fucking time." He turns the dildo so it presses harder onto your clit and you throw your head back in pleasure. “I could've been wrecking this pretty pussy every night."
“Wonwoo, please just do something!"
You're all for foreplay. You're all for teasing. But you've not had sex in five fucking years, surely he could show you some reprieve.
"What's the rush? We've got all night.” He muses as he runs the dildo along your soaked underwear.
"Wonwoo.” You give him a stern look, "I haven't had sex in fucking years. If you don't do something soon I might actually burst into tears. Just fuck me!” You whine.
"I have always dreamt of you crying my name.”
You look at him in horror. What a fucking tease.
"Give me my dildo.” You demand and hold your hand out.
"No.” He looks at your hand in disgust.
Right then. You're not above making him do something.
"What are you doing?” He mumbles as you flail around, him not moving from between your legs making it difficult as you wrestle your panties off.
"Look,” you lie back, two fingers running through your drenched folds, trying to not moan at the feeling, and hold them up to him, "do something. Or I'll finish myself off.”
He hasn't heard a single word you've just said to him. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw your pussy and he nearly fainted when you ran your fucking fingers through it. You're moaning at him because you've not had sex in five years. He hasn't had sex since you moved in here. You cannot just tempt him like that.
"Hey!” But he ignores you, grabs your hand and shoves your fingers in this mouth, licking and sucking your essence, his eyes closing in delight at the taste.
Something takes over him and before you know it your knees are bent and near your chest and he's holding your ankles, the perfect view of your pussy.
You expected a lot of things, maybe sloppy romance or tentative touches for your first time. You did not expect him to go with fucking mating press after him making you choke on your own dildo. Not that you're complaining. You once had a dream where you were literally sitting upside down in his lap whilst he ate you out. Luckily, dream you is clearly an acrobat.
"Is this what you wanted?” He glares at you.
"Yes,” you whisper, eyes on his dick.
"So selfish,” he mutters, "hold your legs.”
You do as he says straight away, your hands holding the backs of your thighs, your pussy dripping in front of him.
"Didn't even get a chance to play with it a little bit,”
"I'm not one of your computer games.” You glare between your legs.
"Shut up,” he flicks your clit, "now,” he lines himself up with you, "ready? You're sure about this?”
"So sure. Just do something Wonwoo.” You whine.
He holds one of your ankles, just his tip against your hole makes your breath hitch. He spares you one last glance and then his tip pushes in, stretching you open deliciously and making you both moan at the feeling.
He’s gentle, his hips rocking, gradually feeding you more and more of his dick and your walls feeling fuller than you probably ever have. The stretch burns just right and finally having him like this feels like you're exactly where you should be. It was always meant to be him, that's the reason it feels so fucking good already and he's not even fucking you yet.
"Shit.” He hisses when he's fully bottomed out, "you feel incredible baby. So perfect, fuck it's like you were made just for me.”
You don't answer, you're just basking in how fucking full you feel.
"Can I move?"
“Please," you manage to croak out.
Wonwoo puts his weight on you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his back instead of holding your legs and rests his hands either side of your head.
"I love you.”
"I love you t…..shit!"
He doesn’t even let you fucking finish saying it before he pulls out just to the tip and slams back into you, deeper than you're certain anyone has ever gotten and makes you throw your head back on the pillow in pleasure.
The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping and your drooling cunt being pounded by the man of your dreams. Your finger nails dimple his back with little crescent moons, not that he’ll need anything to remind him of tonight. This is everything he's been waiting for, it'll be etched onto his brain how fucking good it felt to finally feel you and be close to, until his dying breath.
You feel like you can't breathe. His weight is on top of you, you're more or less folded in half and he’s fucking you so hard it's a wonder you've not smacked your head on the headboard. But you wouldn't have it any other way because if anything, the lack of breath only adds to how insane you feel right now.
His dick is bullying its way into your warm willing walls, he's so deep you're certain he's crashing into your cervix and all you can do is hold onto him and enjoy the ride.
“You feel so good," he groans when he hits a squishy spot inside you that drives you both wild.
“You too," you whisper, trying to hold him even closer to you.
“You're a fucking goddess baby. And you're mine, all fucking mine,” He moans when you clench around his perfect dick.
"Y-you’re,” you try to get out but you're already so close to cumming, "m-mine too,”
“Yeah? Gonna cum around my dick baby? Let me feel how good I'm making you feel?"
“Hm-mm,"
He moves one of his hands from beside your head, his dick still slamming but when two fingers drift down to your clit and rubs tight little circles on your bundle of nerves, you completely lose it.
“Fuckfuckfuck," you cry, your hole clenching repeatedly around him.
Your whole pussy is quivering, his dick dragging against your walls deliciously and his magic fingers drawing perfect little patterns on your clit. What was it he said? I'm good with my hands? He really wasn't lying, his fingers somehow know exactly how to tease your clit just right.
Just one more thrust and you cry out, your whole body vibrating beneath him and hole contracting around his dick again and again. You're not sure you've ever cum so hard in your life. The weight of Wonwoo on top of you and the way he looks like he's completely lost in the feeling of you cumming for him only drives you on even more. You can’t move but you don't need to, Wonwoo doesn't stop fucking you, making sure you ride your orgasm out for as long as possible, revelling in the way you feel around him.
“Wonwoo," you shakily breath out, “cum. Please cum inside me, fill me up, I," you sigh, still shaking from the end of your orgasm, “wanna feel you cum in me."
He lets out a deep, guttural growl, your words being the tipping point for him as his body stills on top of you for a second before he keeps fucking into you. Fucking his cum into you.
"Fuck I love you _____,” his hips keep sloppily fucking into you and he moans when you clench a little, "I love you so fucking much.”
"I love you too,” you say softly, your hands gliding up his back to hold him close to you so you can whisper in his ear, "so, so much Wonwoo.”
His hips gradually slow, your fingers deciding to draw patterns along his sweaty, marked back, hoping to soothe his heavy breathing and hold him as close to you as possible.
Wonwoo raises his head to look at you, his cheeks flushed and pupils blown out, but he looks at you with so much fondness and so much love you feel like doing a little happy cry.
“Are you ok?" He asks quietly, helping you move your legs and smiling as your waggle your feet now they're free.
“I am," you hold his cheeks, “I love you."
The kiss on his lips is sweet and filled with promise.
“I love you too. Can I," he moves back, taking his softening dick out of you.
His eyes widen as he sits back, watching his cum drip out of you.
“Fuck," he whispers in awe as his fingers move to pick up a little bit of it and stuff it back in.
“Don't giggle," you chastise him when he chuckles a little at your thighs twitching, “I'm sensitive."
“I fucked you that well?" He asks, keeping his eyes on your cum filled hole as he moves to lie next to you.
“I don't think I've ever felt like that…..don't look so smug!" You tap his chest when he looks more than pleased with himself.
“What?!" He pulls you into his chest, your leg hooking over his hip, “not everyday you hear that from the woman you love."
“That makes me feel all tingly," you murmur into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you.
“What does? That I luuurve you," he squeezes you and then squeezes you again just to hear the laugh he loves so much.
"Yes.” You giggle.
He holds you, kissing your head occasionally, both of you basking in the afterglow of what's just gone down.
“_____?"
“Hmm?"
“Just so you know. I'm all in. I want whatever you want, I just want to be with you."
“Me too."
You think for a minute, wondering how to bring up the last thing that's been worrying you. You only thought about it on the drive home but now all your horniness has been satiated, you need to ask him.
“This doesn't change anything does it? I mean with Ari and the guys? Like you're all still…..I don't know how to put it. Equal? Like you don't think you trump Mingyu because…..”
"Never.” He cuts you off, "what we have works. She's our daughter, she always will be. I don't feel any different in terms of our family _____. The only thing that changes is my relationship with you. They're my best friends, we all love her the same and you're my girlfriend.”
"I just wanted to check,” you kiss his chest and he holds you a little closer.
"I'm a bit worried about whether she'll think differently of me.” He murmurs.
“Ari?" You prop yourself on your elbow.
“Hm," he nods, “what if when we finally tell her, she decides she doesn't want me near you? She doesn't want her mommy to have a boyfriend or for that boyfriend to be me."
“Are you joking?"
“No! Like what if she hates me for holding your hand or something. That little girl dotes on you, she's never seen you with a man. What if she decides to wage war on me!"
"You're talking about the same little girl that pretended to operate on her dolls with you when she was three because she said she wants to be a doctor like her daddy woowoo…”
"But…"
“The same little girl who doesn't let anyone do her hair other than you. I did it the other day when I was upset with you and she spent the entire drive home after school telling me how she felt like her hair was falling out all day because you hadn't done it."
“That's not the…."
“The same little girl," you sit up and cross your legs, him following and holding your hands, “who has spent her whole life being treated like a princess by three of the best men this world has to offer. She could never hate any of you. And we don't need to tell her quickly, we can take our time. Figure out how we work before we do anything else."
“So you don't think she'll stop reading with me on Sundays?"
“I think the only time she'll do that is when you both finally run out of books. She loves you Wonwoo," you stroke his cheek, “so do the guys. But none of them love you as much as me.” You smile proudly, kissing him softly.
"It's gonna feel like we're teenagers sneaking around,” he pulls you to sit between his legs with his back against the headboard.
"Yeah and there's spies on both floors. Areum's up here and the guys are near you downstairs.”
"Guess we'll have to get really good at shower sex,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his fingers tracing hearts on your skin.
"Or maybe,” you look back at him, "car sex.”
"Absolutely not. Mingyu told me a horror story about a handbrake and rectal bleeding once. That's not happening.”
"He disgusts me sometimes.”
"Can I stay in here tonight?” He whispers in your ear before kissing just beneath it.
"Oh now I've got you, I'm not letting you go.”
“OH LOOK JEONGHAN WE ARE HOME,"
“YES, IT IS NICE TO BE HOME."
They have to be the most ridiculous pair of people you've ever met in your life.
“WE ARE WALKING INTO THE APARTMENT NOW."
“IF THERE WAS SOMETHING WE SHOULDN'T BE SEEING I HOPE IT IS FINISHED NOW."
“What the fuck are you two doing?" Wonwoo asks as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, glancing at you on the sofa.
"Oh.” They both come to a stop. "We thought you'd be doing something disgusting.”
"No, we've decided to just be friends.”
"WHAT?!”
You fall back on the sofa laughing, Wonwoo watching you happily.
"I hope she's joking.” Mingyu points at you.
"She definitely wasn't calling me her friend half an hour ago.”
"Wonwoo!” You scold, sitting up again.
"Oh my ears!” Jeonghan walks to the kitchen, covering his ears.
“When’s Areum back?" Mingyu throws himself on the sofa next to you before Wonwoo can sit down, sending him a middle finger.
“In about twenty minutes. Hey Jeonghan," you holler back to the kitchen, “did you have anything planned for dinner? Because your mom promised Ari pizza if she got dressed when they told her to."
“Bribing kids," Mingyu shakes his head in disgust.
“Yeah because pretending to cry to get them to do what you want is so much better. Move.” Wonwoo stands in front of you and Mingyu.
You glance at Mingyu and then turn back to Wonwoo, pretending to not know what's annoying him.
"Me?” Mingyu points to himself, pretending to be a little shocked.
"Obviously.”
"Why? Do you want to sit with your girlfriend?”
"I'll sit on you.”
"Is that a promise?” He smirks at Wonwoo.
You stand up, shove Wonwoo down onto the sofa and then throw yourself on his lap. Sure he groans at the shock but you'll be damned if Mingyu upsets your boyfriend.
"Oh for god's sake. There's two other sofas!”
"Then go sit on one,” you flick Mingyu’s forehead as Wonwoo's arms wrap around you.
"Wait, hold on!” Jeonghan rushes over to you all and sits on Mingyu.
"Dude there's other places to sit.”
"We need a family meeting.”
"The head of the family isn't here.” You point out.
This must look ridiculous, you and Jeonghan sitting on Wonwoo and Mingyu's laps facing each other.
"She's right.” Mingyu picks a rogue thread off Jeonghan's top.
"I think we need to get this sorted before she's home.”
Your stomach drops a bit and Wonwoo takes his arms from around you, settling on a gentle hand on the small of your back.
"Jeonghan…" you try to start but he holds a hand up to stop you.
“When you trusted us with Areum, we all took care of her. You two," he glances at Mingyu and Wonwoo, “didn't hesitate to help me. To help _____. I know we've asked you a few times over the years whether you still wanted to be in this and you've always shot us down saying it was what you wanted. But I just want you to know, that it meant a lot. It means a lot. You care for Areum like she's your own, she's surrounded by love and not just because of me and _____ but because of you two, even your parents treat her like a family member."
You all stare at him, the fact he's sitting on Mingyu’s lap not even looking entertaining anymore.
“Our stupidity brought Areum into this world." He smiles a little at you. “But I'm so pleased we were stupid back then. She is the most precious thing to me and I thank the universe everyday that you trusted me enough that day when you needed help. You're the best mom in the world _____,”
You sniffle, Wonwoo rubbing the small of your back.
"And I know you. It probably won't be better than anyone soon,” he smiles down at Wonwoo, "but I know you and know you'll be worrying somewhere in there,” he taps the side of your head with his finger and makes you laugh, "that I'll see you differently or I'll be annoyed or angry or something but I want you both to know, I have been waiting for you both to realise you loved each other. And I still feel the same as I did before yesterday. I love that you're part of Ari’s life Wonwoo, I love that there's little quirks in her personality that come from you. That come from all four of us. She's a little mini version of all of us and I love that. It may not be normal to everyone but it's normal to us. So. You didn't need my blessing or anything. But just know that I love you both and I know me and Mingyu will joke around about it but don't feel the need to not be yourselves. Because I can't wait to see what you become."
“Jeonghan," you sniffle and pull him into a hug, Wonwoo and Mingyu trying to steady you both what with you both still being on their laps.
“I would threaten you and tell you not to hurt her," he wipes a tear from his cheek when he pulls back, “but I know you won't."
“I won’t," Wonwoo says softly, his arms finally wrapping around you again.
“We er," you wipe your eyes, “we said last night that we'd wait a while to tell Areum. Figure how we’re us before we do it."
“Right. Enough emotions," Jeonghan slaps his legs and stands up, “the boss’ll be back soon. Mingyu you said you needed to edit something. If you do it now then we can all eat the pizza together."
“Oh right yeah," he rushes to stand up. “I'm pleased for you," he ruffles Wonwoo’s hair and kisses the side of your head before he jogs up the stairs.
“I've got really great sister husbands." Wonwoo beams at you as you laugh at him.
“Would it not be brother husbands?" You ponder, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Whatever it is, they're really great."
“So great." You smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Happy?"
“More than I've ever been."
"MOOOOMMMMMY I’M HOOOME!”
"Shit!” Wonwoo basically throws you off him before Areum and three sets of grandparents appear in the living room.
“I've been reading a new book."
“Don't eat with your mouth full of food," Mingyu says and Ari very dramatically stops talking to finish what she's eating, all four of you waiting to hear what she's going to say.
If this is another Agatha Christie then you're going to really need a stern word with Wonwoo. You're all for them reading together. She won't even need to learn to read at school because Wonwoo’s been reading her full novels since she was a baby. She just sort of knew how to read and started reading full on tomes. But she's going to be reading Great Expectations before she's even in double digits, you're going to run out of books at this rate.
“Finished.” She shows Mingyu her mouth and he recoils in disgust.
"What's your book honey?”
"Cinderalla,”
"An age appropriate book?” You mumble, smiling sarcastically at Wonwoo’s glare he sends your way.
"Did you like it?”
"It’s a bit boring. I don't know why she needed a prince, she could've just locked her step mommy away and stolen all the jewellery.”
The three of you turn to Wonwoo.
"What?” He says defensively, taking a bite of his pizza. "That's not an Agatha Christie.”
"It is,” Areum corrects him happily. “And Gyugyu said you shouldn't talk with your mouth full of food."
He stops chewing for a second in shock, the three of you trying not to laugh at him being told off by a four year old.
"What about Cinderalla Ari?” Wonwoo ignores all your very pointed looks.
"Well the prince,” she wriggles in her seat to get comfy and tell you all about her book, "is really nice to Cinderella even though she looks a bit boring at the start he does all of these nice things for her like finds her shoe and then she's really happy and he keeps being nice to her and then they live happily ever after.”
“Did you enjoy it then?" Hoping this new found interest in fairy tales might draw her away from Poirot.
“Not really. But I was thinking."
Oh god.
“What about honeybun?" Jeonghan asks, giving her another slice of pizza.
“Well Woowoo does really nice things for mommy and he's always finding things she's lost and even when she looks like a scarecrow when she's just woken up and he's grumpy because he's woken up late he still smiles when he sees mommy and you and Gyugyu don't do that and so I think Woowoo probably makes mommy as happy as the prince because he does nice things for her and makes her happy and I think" she takes a deep breath from her rambling, “that they will live happily ever after."
All four of you gawk at her, not that she cares, she's too busy taking the pepperoni off Mingyu's pizza and adding it to hers.
“Ari," Jeonghan says softly, deciding to ask this himself because he can see you and Wonwoo are a bit shocked, “would you be ok with that though? If they lived happily ever after like the prince and Cinderella?"
“Mmmmmmmm," she taps her chin, thinking and leaving a greasy finger mark from the pizza, “I think so. Mommy smiles a lot when Woowoo is here." She whispers to Jeonghan like she's telling him her darkest secrets. "And I like it best when mommy smiles because she's my best friend.”
Fuck a duck.
"Why are you crying mommy? Did Gyugyu do something?” She frowns very seriously at Mingyu, her little arms folded.
"No honey,” you wipe your eyes, "and I'm not sad. I'm just very proud of you.”
"Because I read Cinderella?”
"Well yes, but more because you're you.”
"Who else would I be?” Her brows knit together as she picks her pizza up.
"No-one honey,” you chuckle, the other three joining in with you as you watch her tuck into her pizza with much too much pepperoni, not caring that she's just taken a massive weight of all your minds.
"Turns out it was just you two that didn't know.” Mingyu mutters, but soon stops looking so smug when you kick him in the leg.
"God I wish they wouldn't just roam around,” Wonwoo dodges a six year old dressed as a sheep.
"I don't see why they need to do this at all. Why not just put on a normal talent show?” Jeonghan glares at some glitter that's landed on his new jacket.
"Because it's Christmas.” You say through gritted teeth, pulling Wonwoo out of the line of fire of a three foot candy cane who was running past, “and so everyone needed to dress for the festive season."
“What’s festive about a sheep?" Wonwoo demands.
“I don't fucking know." You grumble.
“_____!"
No. No no no. You cannot deal with the mothers of the parent teacher association.
“Hi!" You turn around to them, your biggest and yet fakest smile plastered on your face.
“I see you've all come," the three women nod at the men flanking you.
“We wouldn't miss it," Mingyu beams proudly.
“We just wanted to ask, we're putting on a dance for valentine's day."
“Isn't that months away?" Wonwoo asks.
“Which one are you?" One of them asks condescendingly.
“Jeon Wonwoo, senior cardiothoracic surgeon at Asan Medical Centre," he holds his hand out and you try not to smile.
“O-oh," they all look a little taken aback as they shake his hand. Clearly they weren't banking on that. You swear they think you're in a quadruple or whatever it would be. It really isn't that hard to grasp that four people can bring up a child and it doesn't mean they're in a cult or a weird joint marriage.
“Mommy," Areum rushes up to you, “I've forgotten my tinsel crown."
“I've got a spare!" Mingyu pulls some tinsel out from his pocket.
“Thank you Gyugyu!" And she runs off again.
“We just wanted to know if you remembered the bake stall for after the talent show,"
You hate how they look at you. They think because your home set up isn't normal that it must mean you're all idiots that don't know what day of the week it is, let alone able to function like a regular family.
“I've made brownies, cupcakes and a pretty impressive bunt cake, if I do say so myself," Jeonghan cockily high fives Mingyu.
“Oh. I see."
Fuck do you feel smug.
"And we needed a donation for the……..”
"I made a sizeable donation on behalf of all of us two days ago. The principal actually called me herself saying how grateful she was.” You say in a sickly sweet voice.
"Really?” They all falter, looking between each other.
"Moooommmmy,” Areum comes rushing over again, "sorry I just need to speak to my mommy.” She says to wicked witches of the pta, "Mommy. Could you please remind Woowoo that he said we were going to the bookstore on the way home, I'm not talking to him because he ate my last chocolate Santa."
“I'll tell him." You nod very seriously.
“Bye!" She waves at the pta mothers and runs off again.
“I wish mine would read willingly," one of the kinder of the mothers mumbles, much to disgust of her friends.
“You were saying something about valentine's day?"
“What?"
“Isn't that why you came over? I presume you had a reason and it wasn't just because you like to belittle my girlfriend."
Ooooooh, now he's done it. All three of them bristle at Wonwoo’s comment but you can tell they're still trying to keep that fake polite exterior. You're going to give him such good head when you get home.
“Not at all, well all love seeing you all!"
Just as they finish that lie, a loud crash rings around the room and a teacher starts shouting at two boys.
“Oh," Mingyu frowns, “isn't that two of yours?" He points at two of the pta women.
“It's not Areum is it?" Jeonghan asks knowing full well it isn't.
“No, she's sitting with her friend over there, helping her plait her hair.” Wonwoo points out.
Satisfaction. In it's purest form, seeing your perfectly behaved, if not overly opinionated daughter, showing just how well she's been brought up by her "not normal” family. And then their son’s acting like little shits and being given detention at six years old. Perfection.
"Valentine's day?” You ask again.
"Oh right,” they drag their eyes away from the chaos, a look a evil on their faces again, “We wondered if we should have a daddy/ daughter dance or if it would upset Areum.”
"Why would it upset Areum?” You demand before the other three can ask anything.
"Well,” the leader smirks, "we wouldn't want to cause trouble.”
These fucking people. What gives them the right?
"Areum has three dads who love her. Who are here, unlike your children’s fathers. You might not get our family but you are no better than us because your children have just a mother and a father. Families come in all shapes and sizes and she’s loved and cared for and that's all that matters. If you don't like that, then I feel sorry for you. But do not go out of your way to insult the three men that have helped make that girl what she is today."
They stare at you before scuttling off back under whatever hole they wriggled out of.
"That,” Wonwoo pulls you to him, "was fucking hot.” He whispers in your ear.
"I feel like a princess when a knight defends her honour,” Mingyu smiles.
"Hey _____,” someone grabs your arm, "I couldn't have put it better myself, they did the same to me and my wife. Well done.” One of the mother’s from Ari’s class says proudly before she needs to rush off to find their daughter.
“Seats please!" Someone shouts and cuts off any proud gloating you were about the embark on.
“We should've bought a hip flask," Jeonghan complains, leading the way.
“Is that a goat? What does a goat have to do with Christmas?" Wonwoo complains, glaring at the other children as you drag him to his seat, Mingyu following behind you both.
"Maybe it's the goat of Christmas past.” You and Wonwoo stop and turn to Mingyu, a look of disgust on your faces.
"What?! That was a good one!”
"Come on, I don't want to miss Ari,” you sigh.
You take your seats, Mingyu next to an old lady who flusters when he says hello to her, Jeonghan next to him and you inbetween Jeonghan and Wonwoo. All of you waiting for the torture that's to come.
Children come and go, singing (or trying to), dancing (and falling), one even did a performance of her impersonating her fish. Five minutes of her just opening and closing her mouth dressed like what seemed to be a trout before someone finally put her, and Wonwoo, out of their misery.
But finally it's Areum's turn. She's performing Jingle Bells with her friend, dressed entirely in tinsel for reasons only known to them, and they even have little sets of bells to accompany their singing.
The old lady on the piano starts and they start singing. No nerves, no tantrums, just a happy little girl singing the song her and friend had learnt two weeks ago in your kitchen when Jeonghan said he'd help them.
For all of Wonwoo’s complaining about the calibre of performances and declaring that most of the children should be in a zoo, you watch him watching Areum and her friend with nothing but pride in his eyes. They're horrendously out of tune and the bells are definitely not in time with the piano or the singing. But to Wonwoo? He'd probably declare it a Grammy worthy performance.
Their song ends and people politely clap them like they do for every perfomance but this round of applause is a little different. Because this time three men stand and give a standing ovation to the two little girls on the stage, hooting and hollering making sure that both girls know how well they've performed.
It's as you join them, sour faced parents around you who glare out of the corner of their eyes, and cheer your little girl, that you realise just how lucky you both are that you realised how bad things were that day when baby Areum wouldn't stop crying.
Things got better. Things got a whole lot better. And it isn't just down to Mingyu, Wonwoo and Jeonghan. It's down to the fact that you knew you had people to help you. That even when you felt alone in the world, you still deep down knew that you weren't.
As the cheering ends and you sit back down, Wonwoo turns to you, his hand taking yours.
I didn't expect this to be so funny at times too lol, such a cute story. They're all so cool here, and the narration is also really good. I LOVE your writing. 🫡💖
🐈⬛ wonwoo x f!reader
🐈⬛ 1k
🐈⬛ fluff!!
🐈⬛ cat hybrid wonu!! and gamer wonu. and pets and cuddles. and pet names for wonu (kitty/kitten). established relationship. just cute fluffy kitty wonu. :]
🐈⬛ happy birthday, wonu!! heheheee thanks to @bubbliegubs for beta'ing for me :] also, disclaimer; i didn't edit the ears onto the photos lol i just found them on pinterest like that. cutie kitten gamer <3
Wonwoo has a habit of staying up late to play his games. Sometimes you need to show him what he's missing out on.
🐈⬛
“Wonu?” you called, blinking the sleep from your eyes. The glow of his computer screen filled the dark room, uncanny and wrong for how late it was. “Wonu, are you still playing?”
His silhouette nudged one headphone off his furry ear. “I just need to beat this boss. I’ll be done soon. Go back to sleep.”
But you sat up, pushing the blankets down around your waist. “You said you’d be done soon, like, hours ago. It’s…” You squinted at the LED clock next to the bed and nearly gagged. “Wonwoo! It’s almost four!”
That got him to look away from the computer, albeit only for a moment as the very distant sounds of digital warfare echoed from his headphones. “I’ll be done soon,” he said again, fingers flying over the keyboard. “For real this time. Oh, wait, no – !”
He groaned as the ‘restart’ screen flashed at him. Then two clicks later, it was gone, and he was tapping away again, racing his little character across the map. You frowned.
“Wonwoo.”
“Soon, I swear, just go back to bed,” he said, eyes glued to the screen.
You narrowed your eyes.
Shoving the covers away, you swung your legs off the edge of the bed, walking over to Wonwoo’s desk. He didn’t look up. His tail brushed the floor, fluffier than normal, twitching once as you approached. He was hunched forward more than usual, betraying his frustration and exhaustion, however much he might try to deny it.
“Wonu,” you said softly, gently cupping his shoulders, and he jumped, clearly not having noticed you approaching. Cute. But his eyes still stayed on the dang screen. You slid your hands along the line of his shoulders and gently massaged the base of his neck, then curled your fingers up towards the backs of his ears, fingertips scratching gently at his scalp.
“Stop,” he grunted, tail flicking against your bare feet. He still tapped away at his keyboard, although a little slower than before, you thought. “I’m almost there.”
“The game can wait for the morning, Wonu.”
“No –”
You slipped one hand along his jaw to cup his chin from behind, thumb gently rubbing at his cheek, and he faltered. His hands stopped moving. Then an explosion nearly took out his character, and he scrambled to move, shaking his head in your palm.
“Stop,” he said again, but this time it was more pleading. Almost petulant. “Just let me win.”
“Come to bed with me and win in the morning,” you coaxed, slipping around to the side of his chair and nudging just barely between it and the desk. Wonwoo’s eyes, pupils round and wide, flicked to you for just a moment before locking back on his game. “Nonu, baby.” Gently you reached up and eased his headphones down around his neck. He started to protest, but you scratched behind his ears, and they stood up immediately.
“Come cuddle with me?” you asked, pouting just a little as you squished his cheeks, and he blinked. One eye opened before the other, but both eyelids drooped over his suddenly sleepy irises.
“Mmmkay,” he mumbled, nuzzling into your palms, and you smiled, bending to drop a little kiss on his head.
“Alright. Let’s get you ready for bed, and then we can cuddle, okay?”
His ears twitched at that, and you giggled.
“That sound good? Yeah?” you said as he nodded slowly. You patted his cheek and stepped aside, gesturing to his computer. “Alright, power down, okay? I’ll grab your pjs.”
“Okay,” he murmured, and you kissed the top of his head one more time.
It didn’t take very long to get Wonwoo ready for bed – he was sleepy, the late night catching up to him, and let you do his skincare routine for him with only a little whine of protest. The way he pressed into your hands as you rubbed the moisturizer in had your heart almost screaming in adoration.
By the time you finally crawled into bed, Wonwoo was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He yawned wide as you pulled the covers up, tongue poking out over his bottom teeth, and you cooed, ruffling the hair between his ears. He blinked, staring at you as if through a haze.
“Sleepy time,” you told him with a tap on the nose. “C’mere, you big kitten.”
You opened your arms, and he nuzzled right in, curling up against your chest with his knees pressing into your stomach and his face tucked into the crook of your neck. You hugged him even closer. A little uncomfortable, maybe, but he’d spread out overnight anyway, splaying his limbs across you like he always did.
“Night,” he mumbled against your skin, voice low and drowsy. You smiled against his hair.
“Night, kitty,” you echoed with a gentle stroke of his hair. “Sleep well.”
“Mmn.”
You closed your eyes, but after a quiet moment, Wonwoo started to squirm. Glancing down, you frowned, finding his droopy eyes on yours.
He craned his neck up and captured your lips in a kiss.
Oh. You smiled against him, kissing back gently. The taste of minty toothpaste still lingered, usually unpleasant but more than okay right now. Wonwoo was as soft and warm as ever, the picture of perfection with his tail curling against your thigh and his hands pawing gently at your shirt.
He broke away only to yawn again, and you giggled.
“Alright, kitty. Bedtime for real now.”
“Bedtime,” he agreed as he nuzzled back into your neck. You rested your chin on the top of his head, smiling to yourself as you closed your eyes and petted absently at the back of his head.
Wonwoo’s soft breathing settled beside you, slowly evening out. He really was cute like this, all cuddled up against you, nudging against your ribs and –
He moved suddenly, rolling onto his back, and you loosened your grip to let him flop against the mattress. His hands splayed up against the pillows, and his legs stretched beneath the covers, pulling them down and presenting the sweetest little peek of his tummy under the hem of his shirt.
Oh.
A smile crept over your face as you reached out and rubbed gently at his stomach.
Wonwoo purred.
You turned to bury your smile in the pillow, and petted his soft belly until you were both fast asleep.
Seungcheol believed that having a soulmate meant you were the love of his life. So, when Choi Seungcheol realized you weren’t his soulmate, what was the purpose of soulmates then?
PAIRING : choi seungcheol x gn!reader
WORD COUNT : 4.1k words
GENRE : romance, angst, soulmate!au
EXTRA TAGS : acquaintances to lovers, university!au, opposite attract, happy ending, mentions of yoon jeonghan
WARNINGS : kissing, cursing, food mentions, probably inaccuracy on office jobs, relationship doubts
NOTES : i am geeking because this song made me want to write this hehe thank you lee hi ily. also let me know if i missed anything! and please let me know what you guys think, commenting and reblogging is much appreciated!
MASTERLIST | AVAILABLE ON AO3
★・now playing : only by lee hi
For most of his life, Choi Seungcheol believed that your one true love comes to you when you least expect them, by the tug of an invisible red string that takes you to them, or even by a timer above your head that indicates the day that you would meet. The fantastical idea that someone has a destined “other half” makes Seungcheol think about his parents, both of whom love and care for one another.
“We met when your father was still living in the city.” His mother had told him fondly, “He had helped me out, and was even the first to ask me out on a date.”
“And when we both learned each other’s name, guess what happened?” His father chimed, setting down dinner plates. His smile was unfaltering as he held his lover by the waist, “The names disappeared. It finally happened.”
He thought of his parents as perfect twin flames, never angry with each other, holding their hearts close and giving it their all for their other half. It was a love that could never be burdened or disrupted by life’s problems—a love that he believed his soulmate could give.
Yet, when Seungcheol first met you, he believed that it was meant to be. Even if there wasn’t an indication that you two were soulmates, you did check the boxes.
You and Seungcheol met at an unexpected moment in your life. Both heartbroken by your last partner, it seems the sadness from both of you caused you to accidentally take one another’s laptops because Seungcheol had already gotten to class way later than usual.
“Fuck.” Seungcheol cursed when he opened a wallpaper that he wasn’t familiar with; it was brightly lit, had an annoying color that he deemed unnecessary. Staring at the locked laptop, his eyes glance at something next to the keyboard.
The schedule for the stranger’s class was pasted and written very neatly; you would confuse it with a printed sticker that had a common font like Arial.
Seungcheol thought that this could be of use for his already bad day—the stranger had the next class after his. Unfortunately for him, he was the first one to present. Dread was all there was for him; he hoped that the teacher was alright with email.
Seungcheol remembered that right after, he saw you running to class a little later than the usual time. You looked evidently panicked as you caged the laptop, his laptop. Gently grabbing you by the shoulder, Seungcheol stops you from running away and immediately grabs his laptop from you as he hands you the unused gadget, noting the bewildered look on your face when you ask him if he is the owner of the laptop.
“We’ll see about it, get to class already,” Seungcheol said before quietly saying his goodbyes, even adding your name as a bonus.
He has heard of you from a passing conversation with one of his friends, Yoon Jeonghan. You weren’t from his circle, and from what Jeonghan has told him, you guys might not even have anything in common. Seungcheol didn’t mind it, though; he still couldn’t help but smile slowly at the encounter. He quickly flipped open his laptop, the script that he had planned for his presentation before quickly putting it in the trash as he opened a new document.
To Future Seungcheol,
If fate doesn’t let us, should I look for them again, because they almost made me fail that class?
Yes or No
The next morning, Seungcheol quietly waited at the place you two had bumped into, the library, which was oddly bustling with people even when it was only around 8. Midterms weren’t closing in, and there wasn’t really anything interesting going on at the library.
Until you came along, of course.
Walking quietly around the library, he finally noticed you as you carried around a couple of boxes of fresh books. Seungcheol gets himself off the uncomfortable couch as he makes his way to you, though he feels himself being left behind as you walk pretty quickly, pushing the book cart with ease and seemingly not noticing him at all.
“Uh, excuse me.” He said in a hushed tone.
No response.
Tapping on your shoulder, it takes you a while to remove one of your earphones, and you turn to him awkwardly. A small cough and a look away, you quietly say hello.
“You don’t look so panicked anymore. Did it go well?” Seungcheol remembers you nodding as you push the book cart, letting him take the time to eventually walk the same pace as you.
“Yeah, I still can’t thank you enough. That was the one class I had yet to study for.” You quietly say as you take one book from the shelf, “But, hey, it seems like fate brought me to success.”
Oh, fate indeed made him wake up a little earlier.
Seungcheol looked at you, a grin spread across his face, “You almost made me fail that presentation. I needed to finish that class.” Seungcheol decided to pick up the book you were holding.
You notice how he had casually placed the book on the highest part of the shelf, where the forgotten books had been lined up.
You smiled at his action—it wasn’t even at the right shelf.
You quietly mention to him to get it grab the book he had stolen as he awkwardly looks at you and quickly apologizes before giving the book back to you, seeing that you had placed it in its rightful location.
“But, what should I have done then? I would have been late for my class, and you still would have failed,” you tell him, pushing the book cart as Seungcheol followed you along. You knew he had nothing going for him, as no one really goes to this library but to hang out with their friends.
“But I didn’t,” Seungcheol said proudly.
“And you didn’t, so what are you going to be getting after this?”
“Buy me lunch?”
Yet, after Seungcheol took you out to his favorite lunch spot on campus, considering it as a “payback” for the mishap that had occurred, he still paid for your meal.
And then the other day, Seungcheol decided to take you out, right after you finished class, luckily finishing just an hour after him.
Meeting each other once again, you two had decided to talk more about each other over coffee. Long talks of favorite things and number exchanges, the rest was history; from hugs with gifts of homemade lunches to kisses under a tree that left flushed ears. You both had learned what you liked, even if some things weren’t a match.
One of the things you two had in common was surprisingly that you both liked cherry-flavored ice cream.
You two understood each other, even if you weren’t going the same paths in life, because even if you two had nothing in common and even had moments of arguments and anger, Seungcheol trusted that you two would get back up again.
Knowing that it would work out with you two because Seungcheol had gotten to know you, and your little quirks that he found endearing. Even in the quiet of Tuesday, where you two sat together, simply talking about your days, felt easy for him; love felt easy because, knowing that you may never know who your other half is, because they are right in front of you, gave him hope.
And so, when Seungcheol turned twenty-five, he quickly blew out the candles that lit brightly—those were his wishes.
But he felt something warm, not like the kisses of love that you gave him under the covers. Hiding beneath the long sleeves of his sweater, there was a thin, ink-like substance being pressed on skin; something was being written on his right wrist; he was worried.
Seungcheol has heard the stories of the written names of their soulmates from many of his friends. They quickly disappear as soon as you meet them, but if you have yet to meet your soulmate, the mark will appear somewhere in your body at twenty-five.
He was not familiar with, however, the dread that came with slowly pulling his sleeve from his right wrist, and there revealed a beautifully trailed name, as if it were a tattoo that had been there for a very long time. It was the name of a stranger that he had yet to open his heart to.
It wasn’t your name—you had yet to see it.
“I think…I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Seungcheol muttered quietly.
The ceiling fan buzzed above him, as he looked at you—you were already looking at him with worry. Those worried eyes stared down, with a hint of uncertainty, as you tried to smile. “Alright.” You said.
Seungcheol wanted to say, “I still love you.” It was as if he was trying to confirm to himself that it was true, your love was certain.
The bathroom felt hollow as he entered quietly, with white tiles that felt like they were taunting him. The tattoo on his wrist stared at him blankly; it wasn’t waiting to be let go at any moment.
He began to wash his hands, but water couldn’t clean away the dirt, so he decided to use soap; counting in the back of his mind, he closed his eyes, and he would see nothing on his wrist at all. But the universe told him otherwise. As he opened his eyes, he stared down at the name. It still wasn’t enough to clean the stain that was the stranger's name.
Seungcheol thought of cleaning it with bleach at this point, or even make an appointment to remove the stain, just anything to wipe that name that he couldn’t help but not forget.
Quiet knocks on the door told him everything.
“Shit,” he mumbled to himself as he quickly dried his hands and pulled his sleeve down.
You didn’t open the door as your voice could be heard through it, “What’s wrong?” You ask, “Did something happen?”
There were some times where Seungcheol despised having to lean his problems onto you, always telling you that he was fine and he didn’t need you to worry about his usual issues, yet you always came moving back into his arms as he softly cried.
You didn’t mind his moments of weakness; you told him that yourself, when you two got together. The memory is still burning in the back of his mind.
Seungcheol unlocks the door and looks at you; his heart sank. He remembers that you were wearing his favorite color, even if that certain shade of red didn’t suit your skin-tone. The jewelry, the one that he had gifted you on your birthday, remembering how you had mentioned it to them one day. And he made it his mission to save enough and gift it to you on your birthday. How you still wore it even if it wasn’t in fashion anymore, it looked beautiful on you.
His mind muttered to itself that the idea of there being someone out there whom he was about to meet, a certain kind of fate that he had wished when he was young. But knowing now that it was someone who wasn’t with him since Jeonghan had officially introduced you to him, not knowing that you two had already spent every early morning together in the library.
You, who immediately knew what the problem was and embraced him as soon as you saw the look in his eyes. Guilt. The embrace held onto him tightly even as you had let go, lingering for just a bit. Seungcheol looked at you, a kiss of apologies for ruining his own birthday was given as you two the laid together in bed.
It hurt him that you knew the law of soulmates.
Partners who had learned that they weren’t soulmates usually never ended well, and it was what Seungcheol feared every moment of rest you spent in his bed, the darkness and silence surrounding him with only the running noise in his head telling him that everything was going to work out, no matter what.
Something within him changed that day. The reality that there was someone who could love him the same way his parents did—someone he was destined to be with, and as he held you close to his chest, looking at you and whispering loving words that only you could listen to on the quiet nights. Seungcheol finally solidified the idea that soulmates should never exist, and if the fact that they did, he really wishes that he could never see them.
Today couldn’t have gotten any worse.
It was one fateful afternoon that Choi Seungcheol finally met his soulmate.
Well, he didn't know that it was his soulmate; Seunghceol was mostly worried about the mess he had accidentally made after bumping into a stranger. Coffee and sandwiches dropped on the ground, and other files of papers were drenched and ruined. Seungcheol grimaced at the sight and looked at the person who had bumped into him, noticing the fresh stain on their shirt.
One bad day, he told himself.
Today wasn’t just in his favor; it was as if fate had taunted him once more. He had woken up past his alarm, a habit that he is trying to break, one that led to him being fired at his job. He remembers how easy it was to just be awakened at the right moment because your work started earlier than his. But he had told you to stop doing it for him; it was a way to discipline himself.
Seungcheol wasn’t feeling his best either, and with this kind of situation happening when his boss was at his meanest, being late meant a lot more punishment on his end than the one who told him to buy the food.
Still, as he looked at the person, the one with the mess on their button-up, and drenched sheets of paperwork. A mess that he made if he weren’t so stressed.
Damn it, he felt awful.
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He had told them as he lifted them off the ground. Picking up the mess, He and the stranger quietly clean up themselves and the mess. The thought of his job, one that led to late nights and apology dinners that he made for you, Seunghceol’s mind wanders as he and the stranger pick the drenched paper at the same time.
Sparks.
Quickly, the stranger picks up the drenched paper, promptly apologizing. “Best be on your way,” they told him.
Seungcheol looks at them as they begin to walk back into the cafe. There was a sense of serenity around the stranger, as Seungcheol felt impacted enough to follow them back to the cafe, the inside having a strong smell of coffee. “You must be late for where you're going? You’re not gonna go?”
The stranger looked at him as they took a seat away from the bustling crowd. “Job interview.” They said, “I passed another round, but I don’t even know if I’ll pass it.”
Seungcheol felt bad as he sat across from where they were sitting. They looked at each other quietly. At first, he didn’t know what to say; the silence was loud enough for people to notice their unkempt appearance, wondering when they would clean up.
“I’ll buy you coffee.”
The stranger rejected the offer immediately, yet Seungcheol insisted that he would buy them coffee, and he asked for their name. As the stranger responded, the name felt familiar to him.
A few minutes pass as he lets their name linger on his mind for a bit. A hot cup of mocha was placed on the table, and Seungcheol quietly left the building.
The bus ride home was silent as Seungcheol was the last one to clock out for the night. Sitting quietly, Seungcheol feels a touch of something—a gentle touch that trails the tattoo on his wrist, as someone held him dearly. His thumb unknowingly grazes his wrist, a reply to the mystical hold.
Seungcheol stares at his wrist, exhaustion had long disappeared as he tries to inspect the tattoo, where it is supposedly placed on his wrist. But what a nightmare it was that now his wrist was inkless.
The name was gone.
In those next few days, Seungcheol dreaded seeing them again. The night that he realized that the name had disappeared on his wrist, he hadn’t talked to a stranger except for them.
The thought that he had just created another form of romantic cliche, when he bumped into the stranger, pisses him off. Because the universe had decided to taunt him once more—the stranger had now become a co-worker.
Having to train the newbie. Seungcheol stared at his soulmate. They seemed to understand his instructions and the rules around the office as if they started to recognize the little quirks he had when speaking or even his mannerisms.
The thought that he understood this quickly was supposed to make his heart beat fast. And when they accidentally held hands, there was always a spark.
Having someone who knew what you were thinking made love easy, right?
The soulmate asked if his favorite pastry was melon bread when they saw him carrying a box for the crew.
Seungcheol looked at them, confused, “What makes you say that?”
“You seem like the type to like melon bread!” His soulmate said with a grin as if they didn’t need another answer from him.
You took a while to recognize that he liked melon bread; his soulmate didn’t have to be told that it was his favorite.
As he took a bite of the melon bread that was left for him, he thought about you.
Seungcheol thought about your current relationship; there had been recent arguments. Short, yet a burst of uncontrollable feelings of anger because of his work. It was as if it were the perfect moment for Seungcheol to decide. He knows that you are sulking in your shared bedroom; you didn’t give him the usual good morning kiss, as you only slept past his alarm. Seungcheol thought about how lucky you were that you didn’t have work on the weekends.
He then thought about his soulmate, who was having fun talking with his coworkers and not sulking.
From what he has known about the law of soulmates, it made it so that there would be no discord between the other half. Soulmates were able to be understood in some way, and it really could be anything from your thoughts to your actions.
They can even somehow recognize how the other half feels. Seungcheol thought about the time they looked at each other at the cafe, and he bought a cup of mocha for them, something that he never buys for anyone.
The law of soulmates made loving someone easy; he could feel his heart beat quickly. To love someone without flaws, why does it not feel good?
You find your bed empty, humming as you let your arm drag against the still-warm space, you assume that Seungcheol still has yet to leave home.
Home-cooked meals always made your morning as you could smell the whiff of your favorites being made. You think of it as a sort of special treat. Whatever it could be, it makes you immediately get up and leave your comfort space.
You find Seungcheol sitting down on the couch as he takes a quiet sip of coffee. It wasn’t usual for him to look at the blank screen of the television so calmly and without care of even waking you up as you look away from him, you notice the display of food that is set on the table.
“Are you okay, Cheol?”
“What?” Seungcheol chokes on the bitter cup and sets it down, a look of surprise that you already had woken up, you notice him force a smile, “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Okay.” You sigh, extending your arms out to the lonely man. “Come on, you don’t have to look so sad so early in the morning.”
You wanted to ask him if there was really something wrong. The way he walks over to you and gives in to your loving embrace, you could smell the notes of berries and florals from yesterday’s shower. Reaching over, you touch the ends of his blond hair; it feels soft and delicate as you brush along his scalp.
The meal you two had felt silent, excluding the light scraping of utensils as it scoops out the food; it truly was unusual for Seungcheol to be this quiet at the table. Usually, he would talk about his day, even when it was at its most dull; he knew how much you liked listening to him talk about the little things that happened or even words that he wanted to tell others but forgot.
In all of the quiet, a simple question was asked.
“What do you think of soulmates?”
Soulmates. They are your other half, someone who understands you more than anyone else. A soulmate who could understand how your soul feels or even works, as if they were a missing piece from you.
You know the stories. On the occasion of friends introducing you to their soulmates, you notice the way they look more whole when they are with their other half, as if it were their fate that made them complete.
Your families have met their soulmates, and it wasn’t each other, but even still, they stayed together without communicating with their other half. Sometimes you wonder if they are missing out by cutting off their other half.
You, however, have already met your soulmate, it was none other than your best friend, Yoon Jeonghan. You remember the mark that suddenly sparked on your wrist when you met him in high school before fully disappearing when he told you his name. Jeonghan knew you were his soulmate, the way you two would hold each other’s hands like a magnet. Even with the way your hearts beat fast, you decided that it was better to stay friends, you knew that your hearts seemed to look for something else.
Meeting your soulmate did make you complete, but it didn’t make you think of your other half as the love of your life. If not for Jeonghan, how could Seungcheol have known you?
“Soulmates are amazing.” You said, taking another bite of your food. “I think it was because of fate that we met.”
“But we aren’t soulmates,” Seungcheol said. If you two weren’t soulmates, then what was the point of soulmates?
Seungcheol looked at the way you still smiled even at the fact, as if you didn’t mind that you two weren’t the missing piece of the puzzle. He could still hear the quiet breaths that you let out after his birthday party. The cold night of August, as you gave him an embrace even in your sleep.
Why couldn’t we be soulmates?
“The universe doesn’t decide that.” You said. As you get up from your seat, you attempt to pull him off the couch, which he thankfully complies with, “Cheol, the day you meet your soulmate is a day to celebrate. It means you found someone who understands.”
The way you see it still, you even if you meet you meet you compliment. It was simply another way to love a person, your ride-or-die, your emergency contact, your best friend. The one you hold your trust and love.
“But I don’t feel love for them the way I do for you.” Seungcheol said, “I still love you.”
“I know.” You said as you gave him a light kiss on his cheek, placing a hand on his cheek, “And I still love you too. Fate doesn’t force us to fall in love with our soulmate; we decide on who we love.”
Seungcheol leans against your touch, the warmth, the spark, the you. He takes your other hand and places it on the other side of his cheek, then moves it away to delicately kiss your fingertips, your palm. He smiles when he does so.
“If soulmates were real, I’d choose you.” Seungcheol lets himself lean a little closer to you, noticing that he could still smell his favorite scent from you.
“Well, they are real,” you correct him, before getting a light smack on the shoulder from Seungcheol.
“Oh come on! You didn’t even let me finish.”
“Because I already know what you’re going to say.” You let yourself lean and melt when you feel your lips on yours. Slow and meaningful, you feel the way he carefully places his hand behind your neck as he pulls you closer to him.
If a red string pulls him away from you, he would thread a new one. Seungcheol takes himself away from the kiss and looks at you, feeling the sparks that he had wished for when he met his soulmate, yet this one made him feel more certain.
Only you and only yours, he chooses you over anything else.
NOTES : at first you were supposed to be his soulmate, but then i thought it would have been more interesting if you weren't his soulmate ha...
TAGLIST (open) send an ask or fill out the form to be part of the taglist
SUMMARY: Your seven years of marriage have become strained. However, there have been so many unusual things happening with your husband. You thought he was acting weird, but his actions say otherwise. You think he is sick, maybe a little messed up in the head. It's all up to you to find out.
PAIRING: choi seungcehol x f!reader
GENRE: drama, angst, comedy
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, implied anxiety and panic attacks, miscommunication between couples, mention of divorce, no smut for this chapter, migraine subtly mentioned, constant overthinking.
WC: 8,814
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, 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, kkuma cameo!
main masterlist - series masterlist - taglist
a/n: ayeee, thee day has finally come! i like to suffer myself just a little bit. enjoy reading (or not).
Prologue
When life gives you lemons…
You want to squeeze them right in front of your husband's eyes, but of course, you can't do that. So instead, you squeeze them into his water bottle tumbler, knowing that he hates lemon.
But today, you don't have any lemons in stock. You were given a box of tangerines instead, probably from one of the relatives, you guessed. Not that you know half of them. Perhaps it was given by the other side of your husband's family. Being married to the son of the family that owns and operates Diamonds Group—the conglomerate company—was not for the weak. You nearly had to pay half the price for being his wife.
It's not that he had been treating you badly, or that his family treated you like an outsider. If anything, half of these years living with him felt like living with a roommate. Maybe even business partners who shared the same space and lived under the same roof.
It was all dull and gloomy.
Just like that, you had wasted seven years of marriage with a man who acted as cold as stone toward you.
"I want a divorce."
You said it out of nowhere as Jeonghan hummed, skimming through his documents while leaning back in his chair at the office.
"I'm serious this time," you said with a sigh, crossing your arms as you stood in front of his desk. "I know I've been saying the same thing for the past few years, and thank you for being my unpaid therapist—but I'm really filing for divorce this time."
Jeonghan stopped skimming through the documents, his fingers hovering over the paper as he looked at you through the rim of his glasses.
"Okay..." he slowly exhaled, placing the papers down as he clasped his hands together on his desk. "So, how do you want to get divorced? By agreement or... trial? Unless Seungcheol disagrees, or you want to file a lawsuit. You'll have to go through mediation if you want that."
He stood up now, palms resting on the desk as he looked at you.
"But I doubt he'd disagree. Just go by agreement—talk with him and—"
"I wanna file a lawsuit."
Jeonghan immediately laughed at that, shoving his hands into his slacks pockets like it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.
"Don't joke around. If you wanna win against him, you're going to lose—"
"And I want you to be my representative lawyer."
Almost instantly, his laughter died down. His lips sealed shut as he stared at you.
There was a brief moment of silence.
And judging by the look on your face, you weren't joking either.
"Are you kidding me?" Jeonghan looked as though he'd just been personally insulted. "That's like ASKING for the death penalty! Are you trying to put my career at risk?"
He was pacing around like a madman while you simply watched him tear his hair out, fiddling with your hands.
"That's why I reached out to you. You're one of the best attorneys in this building."
He stopped in his tracks, looking at you sharply like he was about to scold a child, making you flinch under his intense gaze.
"_____, I'm the legal director. One of his closest partners. Do you want me to get fired?" he groaned, pacing again. "Remember Attorney Kim who sought a divorce from his wife? Yeah, that divorce didn't end well. His career basically went downhill afterward. Even his own firm isn't doing well now, from what I heard."
"You mean Mrs. Choi Mina, the CEO of the department store?" your brows lifted in curiosity. You knew her; she was one of Seungcheol's relatives—the one you saw at the memorial ceremony.
Jeonghan snapped his fingers. "Yes. Exactly. He should've seen that coming. He had everything and still chose to leave in the end."
You nearly scoffed at that. “What would you know about marriage? Maybe the relationship was bad, probably why he's leaving.”
He ignored you and continued. “My whole point is, why would you go to such trouble for this? Oh my god, thinking about it makes me want to—”
“It was a loveless marriage,” you stated. “I want to sue him because of that, and also for making me waste a whole seven years of my life on this.”
The man stopped in his tracks, his crash-out temporarily postponed as he looked at you. For a moment, he just stared.
“You know that's not a proper reason to sue him.”
“Then what about suing him for breaking a promise?” you said casually with a shrug. “You know, is that reasonable enough? Marriage vows and contracts were made.”
“I mean...” He sighed, rubbing his temple. “It does count as breaching a promise between spouses. Listen, why not just talk to him, discuss whatever it is, make a mutual agreement—and you're free.”
“...It's not that easy.”
“Just try. Be on the same wavelength as him,” he punctuated with a knock on his desk. “And if you're lucky, he'll agree to a mutual agreement, you'll be on the same page, and that's the end of it.”
You made a face, letting out a disbelieving scoff.
“Same page? We're not even sleeping in the same bedroom, Jeonghan! And that's the problem.”
Now it was your turn to pace around like a madwoman.
“Oh my god, it seems like you don't understand me. I wanted to sue him because of that. I spent years trying to be a good wife to him, and I even quit my job as a news anchor because of him!”
You finally let out an exasperated breath as Jeonghan just stared at you. It looked like he was staring because he thought you were being weird now.
But you were far from finished.
“I didn't just quit, I also dedicated my whole life trying to please him, but he never ever looked my way!” you said, flailing your arms. “Then when I told him I wanted to create my own beauty brand, he did support it—but only by giving me the capital and never supporting me verbally. I guess his way of showing his so-called love is throwing money at me.”
You scoffed at that.
“And not just that, he never eats dinner. When I tried to cook his favourite dish, he came back the next day. Does that man even eat?” You felt ridiculous for even caring in the first place.
Jeonghan just let you ramble as you continued.
“What kind of workaholic insanity is that? In fact, I never see him at home. It's like he's sleeping in his office.”
After a while, he spoke slowly. “So...you want to sue him for emotional damage and neglect?”
You thought for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Maybe that's what I'm thinking.”
Then suddenly, your eyes widened as you snapped your fingers. “Oh! We can use a third party interference claim. I want to charge him with that too.”
The man rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “You need actual evidence for that. Accusing someone without proof is not it.”
“Then find one.”
The way you said it so simply nearly drove Jeonghan insane.
“I'm not doing that. And who's we?”
“You're a former Supreme Prosecutor. You can fabricate anything, right?”
“Oh my god, are you trying to get me fired by my boss???”
He looked genuinely bewildered now.
Your afternoon was wasted on trauma-dumping in Jeonghan's office. You were supposed to be at your father's house, but this whole burdening issue needed to come to an end.
The moment you were about to head downstairs, you ran into Seungcheol—your husband, as stated on paper.
The elevator opened, revealing him with his secretary, Mingyu, beside him. His secretary stepped out, allowing Seungcheol to enter the elevator alone with you.
“Are you not going to come in?”
That deep voice almost made the hair on your arms stand up. Even the staff around him probably felt the same.
His secretary only smiled and gestured politely. “It's alright, sir. You go ahead first. I'll take the next one.”
With that, the elevator doors closed as Seungcheol pressed the button. The silence was torturous. Dreadful enough to leave you suffocating in the same space as him.
God, even his cologne invaded your nostrils, almost making you gag at how overwhelming it was. Not just you either—the entire building knew it.
You once heard one of the front desk staff exaggerate that they always knew when he arrived because his signature scent lingered like a nightmare. You could practically imagine employees scrambling into panic the moment they realized their boss was on the way.
“Why are you here all of a sudden?”
His voice made you jump like a deer caught in headlights. You hadn't done anything wrong, so why did you feel like you had committed a crime?
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you answered softly.
“I was meeting with Jeonghan.”
“Is it about the staff member who broke one of your prototypes and tried to leak the plans to a third party?”
He didn't even look at you.
Great.
“You can ask Chan to handle that lawsuit.”
You wanted to hit him. Your fist even lifted slightly, tempted to smack the back of his head. Of course, he didn't notice your childish behaviour.
“No. It's not about that.”
You cleared your throat, trying to follow Jeonghan's advice.
“S-so... will you be back home today?”
You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering.
Why were you nervous? You're the one who wanted a divorce after all.
He glanced down at his wristwatch, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.
“No. I'll probably be late. As usual, don't wait for me.”
The way he said it so casually, like it was a line he'd repeated over and over again, never failed to make your heart sink.
And somehow, it still did.
Even though you were supposed to be numb to it by now.
“It's important,” you insisted.
“I don't know how important it is. If you want to discuss it, we can do it another time.”
He still wasn't looking at you.
“But it is urgent,” you pressed. “When am I finally supposed to see you?”
“You could've told Mingyu about it, and I could fit you into my schedule.”
The words sounded so formal. So business-like.
You hated it.
You wanted an immediate answer, not to ask for an appointment with your own husband.
“I want a divorce.”
There.
You finally said it.
Seungcheol faltered ever so slightly.
Then, almost deliberately, he turned to look at you.
The elevator doors opened. You stepped out, turning back to face him.
“Let's discuss it more at home.”
That word—home—felt both foreign and familiar.
You couldn't even call that place a home anymore if there was no warmth left in it.
Then the elevator doors closed again.
For the first time, Seungcheol didn't know how to feel. So consumed by work, he had failed to notice that something like this would come much sooner than he expected.
Seungcheol doesn't know how many hours of his life he had dedicated to work in a single day. The work that he swore himself to the day he turned eighteen.
And that same work had also caused his marriage to fail.
Another day had passed yet again. For some reason, the world around him had slowly faded. The sounds in the background had become so distant that he didn't hear the voice calling out to him.
“Director Choi?”
The voice echoed, catching his attention as he blinked. Momentarily, he stared at the boardroom table as everyone waited for his response.
“Right,” he exhaled, straightening in his seat. “Could you repeat that?”
One of the staff members continued, repeating the report regarding last year's balance sheet. Seungcheol's body was physically there, he was anything but focused on what was happening around him.
Just as he blinked, his eyes widened.
The boardroom was gone.
His gaze adjusted to the ceiling of his penthouse instead, then to the papers spread out in front of him.
The divorce agreement.
His eyes landed on you. You looked back at him, still listing out the details of the property division.
“Did you even hear what I'm saying?”
He didn't press any further. Instead, he slid the paper toward himself and signed it without hesitation. “I am. Just list out what you need, and I'll compensate for it.”
He finished signing before sliding the papers back to you with ease. There wasn't a hint of a smile or any emotion behind his expression.
Like he had already adapted to whatever this was. You took a moment to stare at him, disliking how easy all of this seemed for him. Taking the papers from him with deliberate movements.
His eyes darted up to you as he finally stood. You watched the broadness of his shoulders as he walked away.
Just as he stopped in his tracks, he turned back. “You can take the villa in Jeju Island. It was a wedding gift after all.”
You almost bristled at that and immediately stood up. “I don't need that. I have my own property too.”
Your husband actually looked at you this time, hands buried in his slacks pockets.
“I told you to just take it. Don't be so stubborn about it. I don't have a reason to go there anyway. You can use it for your tangerine picking or whatever, since you've been replacing lemons in my bottle.”
Then he walked upstairs, leaving you frustrated.
Even in the middle of the divorce process, he still treated you like the immature one.
When Seungcheol finally entered his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes for a moment.
A sudden buzzing sensation spread through his head. His brows furrowed, exhaling slowly before glancing at the calendar beside him.
A reminder.
Your anniversary this weekend. The reminder itself felt like it was mocking him. You two were about to separate anyway. Why was he still dwelling on things like this?
The last time he celebrated it, it had been another expensive dinner with gifts and flowers. The same routine every year, until the sixth anniversary.
As the years passed, your smile only seemed to grow more distant whenever he gave them to you. Perhaps you were tired of the same meaningless gifts. Still, he thought it was better than doing nothing. Forgetting would've been worse.
The point was, he had a feeling something was wrong. His body felt exhausted more than usual. At first, he assumed it was because he had been working too much.
But this wasn't a normal headache.
Sometimes he would zone out, and when he opened his eyes again, he would be somewhere else entirely.
He could swear he had been sitting in one place, yet somehow he would find himself in a completely different location.
It was probably stress. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Even Mingyu had pointed out how distracted he had become during meetings and conversations. His secretary advised him to take a break, but Seungcheol insisted on finishing his deadlines instead. He was fully aware that he pushed himself harder than anyone else.
“What are you doing standing there?”
The voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Blinking, he turned toward you, momentarily dumbfounded.
You stared back at him with equal confusion. “You've been standing there for more than five minutes. Hello?”
You waved a hand in front of his face.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced down at the coffee mug in his hand and took a sip.
“Then why are you standing so close to me?”
Letting out a huff, you grabbed a tangerine from the fruit basket behind him while maintaining eye contact.
“Oh, you know. Picking up my tangerine instead of squeezing lemons into someone's drink.”
He simply let you be, watching as you headed upstairs, probably to your room.
His eyes drifted toward the clock hanging on the wall.
Four o'clock in the afternoon.
His expression faltered. Then he checked the date. Today was your anniversary.
That couldn't be right.
As far as he remembered, he had only been discussing the property division with you this morning.
He checked again. Then again. Opening his laptop to verify the date.
Today was the seventeenth of May.
And if his memory served him correctly, that divorce discussion had happened on Friday.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him. He exhaled quietly, not realizing sweat had begun forming on his forehead.
Maybe Mingyu was right. Maybe he was simply exhausted from overworking himself. He convinced himself it was just an occasional migraine, yet the pattern kept repeating.
His concentration would disappear and hours would vanish. Sometimes entire chunks of time felt blurred. He thought it might finally be time to get a proper medical checkup.
Your sleep was suddenly disturbed by scratching noises coming from your bedroom door. Reluctantly, you woke up, half-asleep as you dragged your feet across the floor. Opening the door, you were greeted by Kkuma, the fluffy furball barking up at you before she immediately turned around and walked away, as if telling you to follow her.
“Kkuma... it's not even breakfast time. Why are you bothering me in the middle of the night?” you groaned sleepily, following behind her with lazy steps.
It was raining heavily outside.
The dim lights illuminated the dark penthouse as you turned on the kitchen light.
Just as you were about to enter, you shrieked—a human figure stood there with his back facing you. The lightning flashed outside, accompanied by an ominous soundtrack playing in your head.
It's just Seungcheol.
After calming yourself down, you cautiously peeked beside your husband, waving a hand in front of his face, trying to test the waters first.
Was he sleepwalking?
Your thoughts were interrupted by Kkuma's relentless barking beside you.
You looked down at the creature and sighed. “Stop that.”
You frowned at the dog before looking back at him. Only then did you notice that his eyes had been closed the entire time.
Your gaze lingered on the scattered tangerines across the counter. A little skeptical about why the kitchen was such a mess.
Brushing the thought aside, you gently shook him.
“Seungcheol?”
After a while, his eyes slowly opened.
You were taken aback by how quickly he adjusted. Without saying a word, he simply turned around and walked upstairs as if nothing had happened.
The only sounds left behind were the heavy rain pouring outside and Kkuma's soft barking and whimpering as she pawed at your legs.
You didn't ask him about that night the next day. Instead, you carefully observed him while he got ready for work. When he noticed your suspicious gaze from behind the rim of your mug, he called you out while buttoning his cuffs.
“What are you staring at for? Did you put something in my briefcase again?”
Blinking, you lowered your mug.
“No...”
There was a brief pause. He didn't even look like he remembered sleepwalking.
“...That got me thinking. Did something unusual happen last night?”
Seungcheol looked at you as though you were the one acting strange. “I'm not sure what you're implying. What else do you think happened besides a relentless shareholder meeting calling for me?”
You take that back. He's infuriating as usual, always trying to stir up problems when all you wanted was a proper answer.
“Never mind. I hope you accidentally step on a tangerine and slip.”
Seungcheol paused midway through turning around, looking back at you with a raised brow.
“Say that again.”
You immediately turned away, picking up Kkuma as you walked back toward the kitchen.
“Oh dear, it's time for your treat, isn't it, baby?” You cooed at her dramatically, sending one last petty glare in his direction.
—
“I'm glad that you sought help from us, however...” he sighed, clasping his hands together on his desk as he looked at you. “...I don't think you've come to the right person or department for this issue.”
“You're a doctor too, soooo—”
At this point, it was almost ridiculous how often you saw Dr. Jeon compared to your own husband.
Wonwoo had been one of your friends back in university. It was funny how your friendship with him had lasted longer than your marriage.
“I told you last time.” He looked one step away from crashing out.
You could vividly remember Jeonghan reacting the same way the other day.
“If you want a counselling session, go to Joshua. And for the record? This is my only lunch break. Did you have to come at the worst possible time?”
You stared at his lonely meal consisting of a cream cheese bagel and a box of apple juice.
“But... it's only a cream cheese bagel and ham.”
“It's depressing, I know.”
“Anyway, as I was saying—how do I acquire medical records for emotional damage?”
You brushed his complaint away with a dismissive wave.
After a long pause, an exaggerated sigh escaped Wonwoo as he stared at you, brows furrowed.
“I'm an OB-GYN, not a psychiatrist, _____. That alone proves you never cared about my field of expertise, and honestly, it's very insulting.”
“...So, how?”
The audacity of you to ask again. Wonwoo let out a loooong exhale before tossing the empty juice box into the nearby bin.
“I assume you need it for a reason?”
He spun slightly in his chair and began typing on his computer. “What is it? To prove an absence from work? For HR or—”
“It's for a divorce settlement.”
You finally cut him off, and your friend abruptly froze.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard as his eyes darted toward you skeptically.
“Divorce? You're getting... a divorce?”
He repeated it as if he needed to hear it twice.
You nodded. The confirmation alone was enough to make him fall silent.
Leaning back in his chair, he seemed unsure how to respond.
“Sorry to hear that. But just so we're clear, if you're planning to use that in court, it might take a while for a psychiatrist to provide a formal assessment. Unless you're in critical condition.”
“I am in critical condition, though.”
His eyes narrowed, then he sighed again.
“My point is, if you're planning to use that against your husband, I don't think it'll work. After being diagnosed by a psychiatrist and attending therapy sessions, you still need to go through the proper process to prove you've received legitimate medical attention.”
His tone had become much more serious now. And he wasn't even finished.
“My real question is, why do you want to sue Choi Seungcheol? He can give you money—probably double my salary. I bet this advice came from a lawyer.”
Your eyes immediately brightened.
“Oh? How did you know that?”
“Obviously. It's not uncommon for doctors to know things like this.”
He continued typing without taking his eyes off the monitor.
“Whoever is handling your divorce case must be completely out of his mind if he's agreed to represent you.”
“It's Jeonghan.”
That finally made him stop.
Looking at you, he blinked.
“You're joking.”
Judging by your face, you clearly weren't.
A dry chuckle escaped him as he dragged a hand down his face.
“I am not getting involved in this. If your soon-to-be ex-husband finds out, he'll have my head too.”
“You don't even work for him.”
You made a face at the way he was talking.
“Easy for you to say.”
The keyboard clicks were the only sound filling the room.
“He's part of a conglomerate family. You're from a wealthy family. And me? I'm just some ordinary guy. One wrong step and I'll be seeing the chairman of this hospital, who's probably connected to the Chois anyway.”
You rolled your eyes at his dramatic narrative.
“Come on. My family isn't that wealthy. We're comfortable.”
Wonwoo actually looked at you this time.
After all these years of being your friend, he knew one thing for certain: Being friends with you was like walking on thin ice. He wasn't sure whether you were genuinely being modest or simply humble-bragging.
“Oh, really? Then give me fifty dollars.”
Frowning at him, you leaned forward. “This is serious, Wonwoo. Me and Seungcheol are getting a divorce, and it's been seven years—not seven months.”
You let out a breath.
“Anyone would be upset knowing they spent years of their life loving someone who never really cared about them... only to end up with nothing.”
Not that you never thought it would become this messy.
People always said that just because you started a relationship in your twenties didn't mean it would remain the same in your thirties. Nevertheless, your situation with Seungcheol was different.
It all started with an arranged marriage between both families. You even broke up with your ex-boyfriend because of it. At some point, as the early stages of your marriage began, you figured that eventually, you would come to love him.
He wasn't exactly a bad husband.
In life, to find a good man, there are at least three criteria that should be met in order to have a happy marriage.
One: generosity.
Cheapness runs in one's blood, and children tend to inherit what they see from their parents. They grow up watching how their parents earn money by waking up early in the morning and coming home late at night. They also learn from how their parents spend that money.
If a man complains about a twenty-cent charge on his credit card despite earning four hundred thousand a month, or if another man only has fifty dollars to his name yet willingly spends his last forty on your meal, the difference isn't about how much money they have.
It's generosity that changes everything. And Seungcheol was never stingy with you.
He gave you practically everything.
When you told him you wanted to open your own beauty clinic after resigning from your job, he didn't make a grand speech about supporting you. He didn't loudly encourage you or shower you with praise.
He simply gave you the capital and trusted you to do whatever you wanted with it.
Sometimes it felt absurd, as though he believed money could solve everything. Yet he never used it to control you either, even when it would've been easier for him to spoil you rotten and keep you dependent on him. Nevertheless, generosity was still one of the most important qualities a man could have.
Two: how they handle stress and challenges.
If a man struggles with anger management, he'll explode the moment his car breaks down, a tire goes flat, or something simply doesn't go his way. That anger eventually reaches the people around him. Whereas some men face life's challenges calmly and immediately focus on finding a solution.
A real man wouldn't vent his frustrations onto you or make you feel responsible for his distress. He would continue treating you with the same patience and gentleness.
And despite Seungcheol's reputation as a cold and distant man, he rarely expressed irritation. Let alone anger.
Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a little.
But he was nowhere near an angry person. You annoyed him all the time, yet he never responded with the kind of annoyance a man would show toward someone desperately trying to get his attention.
It was more like he simply accepted that you were... childish.
Not playful. Just childish.
You doubted he even saw you as a woman trying to win his affection. More like a cat scratching places it wasn't supposed to.
Three: a man who knows how to take care of you.
At first, you thought this was simply your standard. A woman should never have to teach a man how to be patient, or how to care for her.
Seungcheol wasn't expressive with words, but he was observant.He could immediately tell when something was wrong with you. Like that time you got sick while he was buried in work.
He ended up adopting a ragdoll kitten—Soya. That was her name. All because he heard ragdolls were affectionate and would make good companions for both you and Kkuma.
And honestly?
It took less than a second for you to forgive him for things like that. It's not like he never did anything right. Even when his presence wasn't there, he always—always—made sure you were taken care of. Whether it came from love or obligation, you simply assumed he was fulfilling his responsibilities as a spouse.
Ugh.
It was almost frustrating. Because you couldn't even pinpoint what was actually missing.
Aside from the fact that your love never seemed to reach him. Sure, he wasn't the type to openly express himself.
A lot of men were like that. Yet you didn't want to generalize him just because he happened to fall into that category.
“Have you considered marriage counselling?”
You blinked before shaking your head.
“Why would we do that? Even if we did, he barely makes time for anything, and I don't think it would've worked anyway.”
Wonwoo let out a small sigh, his eyes still fixed on the monitor as he typed away.
“That's not even a question. I'm suggesting that you should attend one.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because it sounds like you still want to save your marriage.”
This time, he looked up at you. Really looked at you.
For a moment, you hesitated. Not because his words struck particularly deep. But because they forced you to question whether you had made the right decision. Besides, you no longer wanted to dwell on a one-sided love.
You were tired of doing this to yourself.
Before you could respond, your phone rang inside your handbag. You quickly rummaged through it and answered the call.
“Oh, yes, Secretary Kim.”
You pressed the phone to your ear. Then your expression changed.
“Seungcheol fainted? Uh—I'll be right there.”
Wonwoo looked up at your sudden reaction, confusion written all over his face.
“I need to go first. We'll talk again, Wonwoo.”
You hurriedly grabbed your things and rushed out of the room.
Wonwoo watched you leave. He didn't know everything about your marriage.
And it wasn't his place to assume.
However, your reaction certainly didn't look like someone eager to end a seven-year relationship. Whatever was happening between you and your husband, he could tell it wasn't as simple as a marriage that had merely run its course.
—
Every pattern in your life repeats until you learn the lesson. The moment you choose differently, the loop ends and growth begins.
Bad habits die hard. In the middle of a divorce settlement, most people wouldn't care much about how their spouse was doing.
But you? The moment Mingyu told you that your husband had fainted, you came running without a second thought.
What could possibly go wrong this time?
From what you knew, Seungcheol had always been healthy—or at least physically healthy from what you'd seen over the years. You were well aware that he was a workaholic, even before reaching the peak of his career.
You stared at his figure lying on the office sofa. Mingyu stood nearby alongside Jeonghan, looking one step away from passing out, judging by how hard he was biting his nails.
When the doctor finally finished examining him, he stood up and turned toward the three of you. His gaze landed on you, presumably assuming you were family.
“He's alright. His pulse is perfectly normal.”
The relief in Mingyu's sigh was almost immediate.
“It appears to be exhaustion caused by prolonged stress. May I ask if he's been taking any medication recently? Perhaps for migraines?”
You hesitated. Then the memory of him sleepwalking flashed through your mind.
Instead of answering, you looked toward Mingyu as if searching for confirmation that something similar had happened before. The man blinked before letting out an audible, “Ah.”
“I saw some medication on his desk, so I assumed he'd been taking it.” He glanced toward Seungcheol before continuing. “Mr. Choi mentioned that he's been experiencing headaches more frequently than usual.”
The doctor nodded, and the discussion continued for a few more minutes. Eventually, after the doctor left, your gaze returned to Seungcheol's unconscious figure. You crouched beside him, studying his sleeping features.
“How did this happen?”
You looked up at Jeonghan and Mingyu.
Jeonghan let out a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “He nearly collapsed in the doorway when the meeting started. Good thing I caught him before he completely hit the floor.”
“Had to cancel the meeting too,” Mingyu added. “If the shareholders had been here today, it would've caused a huge commotion.”
You listened quietly, nodding as your attention drifted back to your husband. For a moment, you deliberately pressed your ear against his chest.
Mingyu immediately made a noise while Jeonghan jabbed an elbow into his stomach.
“His heart is beating normally, alright.” You pulled away and stood up.
“Of course he is. The doctor literally just said that.”Jeonghan interjected. “I mean—the rich are very strict about their blood pressure. Seungcheol's always careful with his sodium intake—”
You and Mingyu stared at him.
He let out an awkward chuckle in between. “What I'm saying is,” Jeonghan corrected himself with a gesture, “he's a healthy man. He's just drowning in stress. It's obvious things haven't exactly been organized lately.”
Mingyu nodded in agreement.
“Mr. Yoon's right. Director Choi has been rather quiet lately. Maybe crankier than usual? I'm not entirely sure, but he's been working until midnight almost every day. Even the employees don't stay overtime that long.”
You let out a quiet sigh. It was hard not to think about everything currently weighing on him. The company, the workload—and now the divorce. The thought alone gnawed at you.
What if this had been the final straw? What if your divorce was part of the reason?
Turning toward Jeonghan, you spoke carefully. “...Do you think it was because of that?”
“Because of what?”
Jeonghan looked genuinely confused.
“You know. The divorce.”
“A divorce?!”
Mingyu nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes darted between you and Jeonghan.
“Ma'am, what do you mean by that? And hyung—why am I only hearing about this now?”
Jeonghan shushed him immediately and turned back to you.
“I'm not sure it's because of that. Don't worry that pretty little head of yours. I highly doubt he'd break down over something like this.”
You frowned. The glare you sent him was enough.
He immediately sighed and held up both hands. “Right. Sorry. That was insensitive.”
A pause.
“But that doesn't change the fact that I don't think he fainted because of the divorce. I think he was already at his breaking point.”
“So no one's going to tell me what's actually happening right now?”
Both of you ignored Mingyu again.
“Has anything odd happened lately?” you asked. “Other than the headaches.”
Jeonghan shook his head. “Not really. But what I can tell you is that he needs a break this time.”
Mingyu's eyes widened. “A break? Then I'll need to clear his schedule and move the planning meetings—”
Jeonghan immediately cut him off.
“What's done is done. Starting today, he's taking at least a week off. Tell him that.”
Just as you were about to continue questioning them, Jeonghan grabbed your shoulder and pulled you slightly aside.
“By the way,” he lowered his voice, “I found these in his desk drawer.”
You blinked and looked down at the small container resting in his palm.
Sleeping pills.
“Hey now—are you guys keeping secrets from me?” Mingyu complained while trying to peek. “I'm hurt.”
You quickly took the bottle before he could get a better look.
“Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Yoon.”
You gave him a small nod which Jeonghan mirrored it.
The brief exchange said enough. After all, he'd been working with Seungcheol long enough to notice when something wasn't right.
Something has definitely been going on lately.
Seungcheol did take a day off from work today. You told him the divorce settlement could wait until he fully recovered. You made sure he went through a proper medical checkup. Your personal doctor even came to the house.
Turns out, he was perfectly fine.
No issues with his blood pressure. His liver and gut health were normal, though the doctor did advise him to refrain from consuming alcohol for the time being.
For someone who claimed to want a divorce as soon as possible, you seemed awfully eager to take care of him.
Your movements halted in the middle of chopping carrots as you let out a sigh.
What did you actually want at this point? Was it guilt? Or were you still unsure whether divorce was truly the answer to your happiness?
One thing was certain—you were putting him first again.
You knew you had no obligation to do any of this. With everything hanging in the air and a divorce looming over both of your heads, you could've simply hired a private chef, or a housekeeper.
Yet you insisted on taking care of him personally.
It was definitely muscle memory. A habit that you thought you had already broken. Somehow, you found yourself back in the same position again.
Maybe you needed to stop trying to figure everything out on your own. Sometimes the answer arrived when you least expected it. Unfortunately, patience was never one of your strengths.
Seungcheol has always been an enigma to you.
But even the most mysterious person eventually cracks when someone keeps poking at the wrong places.
Which you did, constantly and apparently, annoying him was therapeutic for you.
Frowning, you stepped back from the steaming pot and turned off the stove.
It was almost eleven in the morning. Your husband still hadn't woken up. You had made sure he didn't take another sleeping pill.
While sorting through the unopened mail earlier, you noticed an envelope addressed specifically to him.
A medical document.
You hadn't meant to snoop. But once you saw it was from Diamond Medical Centre, curiosity got the better of you. According to the records, he'd been registered as a patient there nearly four years ago.
Panic disorder.
Anxiety attacks.
Insomnia.
The words stayed with you long after reading them.
His name was written right there. It also noted that he'd stopped attending his sessions shortly after. You ended up calling Jeonghan and asking him to look into it further.
Slowly pushing the bedroom door open, you peeked inside.
Seungcheol was still asleep.
You stepped in carefully, making sure not to wake him. It had been a while since you'd entered his room. Not since the two of you decided to sleep separately.
Looking at him now, you'd never seen him sleep this peacefully before. Almost as though he'd been desperately craving rest.
Was that why he took sleeping pills? You already knew he was sleep deprived. You'd always assumed it was because of work.
Now you wondered if sleeping itself had become difficult for him.
When did it start? Four years ago? Or even before your marriage?
You'd wait for Jeonghan to find out.
Carefully, you crouched beside the bed and stared at his sleeping face. It felt unfair that you would soon leave and never get to see this face every day again. Then again—what a waste of a pretty face.
If people thought you stayed in the marriage because your husband looked like he belonged on a magazine cover—
Well.
They wouldn't be entirely wrong. Unfortunately, a pretty face alone wasn't enough to keep a woman married.
Though Seungcheol was rich.
Anyway.
One thing you absolutely couldn't stand was snoring. And too bad, your husband was one of those people.
Oddly enough, he wasn't doing it today. You wondered if he was even breathing.
So, just like the other day, you leaned closer. This time placing your ear against his chest to check his heartbeat.
Before you realized it, his eyes fluttered open—directly staring at you. Unfortunately, your body reacted faster than your brain. You pressed your lips against his, remaining there for a second longer than necessary.
Seungcheol stayed completely still.
Judging by his reaction, he didn't seem affected by it in the slightest. Nor did he appear particularly horrified.
You slowly pulled away, trying to gather whatever dignity remained.
"What do you think you're doing?" His deep voice echoed through the room with those soulless eyes fixed directly on you.
You blinked, still way too close. "Uh...sleeping kiss?"
One of his eyebrows rose immediately.
"You looked like you weren't breathing in your sleep, so I thought a true love's kiss might wake you up."
Wow.
Nice save. But at what cost?
At this point, you might as well have read him a bedtime story.
Now fully awake, Seungcheol pushed himself up slightly and stared at you as if trying to determine whether he was still dreaming.
"I cooked earlier," you blurted out. "You should eat. It's almost lunchtime."
Immediately, you stood up and escaped the room before your embarrassment could kill you on the spot.
Honestly, you were digging your own grave. Who kissed their spouse in the middle of a divorce?
Suddenly, your phone buzzed. By the time you reached your room, you'd already accepted the call.
"Oh, hey. Did you find anything?"
"Yeah. Had to ask Wonwoo about it." Jeonghan chuckled softly. "He complained the whole time and accused me of interrogating him."
You waited quietly.
"Anyway, from what I found, Seungcheol was receiving treatment back then. But he eventually stopped showing up and kept skipping appointments."
You remained silent, letting him continue.
"I knew about the insomnia and panic attacks. I just didn't realize he'd been clinically diagnosed."
"You knew that?"
"I'm sorry, _____.” His voice softened. "I didn't know the full details. Aside from that, I think I know what might've caused it. For now, that's all I have. The doctor who treated him moved overseas years ago."
"It's okay," you assured him quietly. "You've already helped a lot. Let me know if you find anything else."
After the call ended, you sat at the edge of your bed.
Thinking.
Seungcheol rarely talked about his family. Not because they had bad blood.
At least not from what you'd seen.
After his father's death, however, everyone seemed to drift apart. You always respected the boundaries he never verbally established, yet the invisible line was always there. No matter how much you reached out, he never seemed ready—or willing to let anyone in. Not even his wife.
He was difficult. Very complicated. Infuriating.
And yet here you were, worrying about problems that technically had nothing to do with you anymore.
When you should've been packing your belongings and preparing for the divorce.
Was this really how someone behaved when they desperately wanted to end a seven-year marriage? You didn't understand yourself either.
There was only one person left you could ask. So you reached for the business card resting on your bedside table. Staring at the familiar name printed on it.
Then you dialed the number. Later, the line connected after a few rings.
"Hello?" A familiar voice answered.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
That night has come, and yet you can’t seem to sleep properly, always rolling around your bed, restless.
For the first time, you never feel so bothered by it. The thought of leaving him once and for all, you wondered if he will get sick even more after divorce.
You wouldn’t think you'll be able to live with that while he was in the dark, keeping himself from the world.
Yeah. You definitely feel that remorse of guilt, even though Jeonghan keeps assuring you that Seungcheol is not that type of person who would dwell like a damsel in distress. You could’ve described it properly but you had no sense of wisdom to correct it now.
How could you possibly leave him like that? He was once a person you could never live without, he’s all you have now.
Or maybe you still care for him deep inside.
Sitting up, you sigh as you reach out your phone. The time is currently 3:04 A.M. which you were supposed to be sleeping by now.
When you think about not sleeping, you think of him. Did he manage to sleep today? How long had he been depending on that pill?
This is awful.
You seriously need to get a grip. Getting off from the bed, you went towards his bedroom, peeking slightly to see if he was sleeping.
Your heart rate rose instantly, opened the door clearly this time just to see the empty bed there. It doesn’t look like he was taking a shower either, you were frantically walking down the stairs, searching for his presence around, the balcony, living area and kitchen.
Does that mean he went back to his office to work again even at this time? There’s no way he would do that. He always works at home too with his devices in his study room.
You tried to call him this time. Not less than three seconds, you heard the phone buzzing on the glass table beside you.
Slowly, you turned around, eyes landed on the phone.
A brief quiet silence filled the air. The paranoia started to kick in, you tried to be calm about it but with zero response and his whereabouts in this penthouse seems to be dreading you out.
Where could he possibly be right now?
You choose another way to find him this time, as you stepped out the building, the cold air hit you but your thoughts were filled with his wellbeing.
You didn’t say any of his cars were being used, it’s not like he’s the type to go outside to just merely get some fresh air.
You tried to think where else he would go late at this hour, your car slowed as you examined the whole surrounding. As you stopped by a nearby park, you saw a figure sitting up at the bench alone.
From the looks of it, the back of the head seemed to be like him alright. You shut the door, hurriedly went over the lightpole, where the light illuminated the only dark space there.
“Cheol!” you called him out, that nickname you haven’t used in a while.
His head turned at you, almost dumfounded as he stood up slowly.
You let out a heaving breath, it was cold and hot was bothering you. Glancing at his form, he was still in comfortable clothes which were probably thinner even if it was just a cardigan. You realized he was walking here barefoot, feet red and covered with blisters.
You frowned, face was already dead, worried as hold his arms then down his hands, trying to warm him up and feeling how cold his hands had been.
“Where have you been?” your voice trembled a little, “I searched for you all over—” You stopped yourself just enough when you noticed his face has been looking at you the entire time, like he doesn’t appear to be aware of what's really happening.
You slowly breathe, one hand holding his other cheek, “I’m sorry, just tell me where did you go? If you’re having a hard time, just let me know, okay?” your voice softens, “don’t go wandering around without your phone…”
He didn’t reply immediately, his eyes that were always sharp and stoic are now more soft and gentle this time. His hand covered yours, the first time after a while you were this close to him.
“I was waiting for you.” He simply said, looking at you.
Your heart momentarily stutters at that, searching if he was deceiving you.
“We were supposed to meet at the park today,” he continued, “You told me today that we were supposed to go to the aquarium.”
There’s a quiet silence filled the cold night.
“...Cheol, that was six years ago.” you muttered softly, looking at him with sad eyes.
And yet, he doesn’t look like he was playing around. He genuinely meant every word of it. The more he keeps looking at you like that, it hurts your heart because why did he look at you like he was still there, as if there's a spark of hope of him wanting you back.
On your way back home, the car ride was quiet. You didn’t press any further after that. Carefully tending to his injured feet, you cleaned and bandaged them properly. Given how quiet he was being, you didn’t question him as you looked up before organizing the first aid kit again.
He had been staring at you the whole time.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked gently, setting the aid kit aside before standing up.
“Are you mad at me?”
That was what he asked instead.
Your movements halted for a moment as you slowly turned back to him, only to be met with those familiar soft eyes.
His gaze was almost docile.
Was this really the same stoic Seungcheol that everyone used to be intimidated by?
You placed the kit aside and sat back down beside him. “No... I’m not mad at you. What makes you think that?”
Seungcheol just looked at you. Really looked at you.
“It’s just... you looked like you were crying because of me. Did I do something that upset you?”
Your breath hitched at that, trying to swallow down the lump burning in your throat. Exhaling slowly, you reached for his hand, testing the waters first before actually holding it.
“No... I was just...” you hesitated, uncertain of what to say in this situation because he genuinely looked just as confused as you were. “...let’s get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day.”
When you were about to stand up, he didn’t let go of your hand.
You glanced down at him. “I’ll be in my room if you need me,” you assured him softly.
“Why?” He frowned slightly. “I thought we were sleeping in the same room.”
He looked genuinely hurt by that. And by the looks of it, almost like a puppy that had been left out in the rain.
Now it was your turn to be confused. The entire situation felt like it was playing tricks on you.
Because why?
Why did he look at you like he still cared about you? Like he needed you the moment your hand slipped from his. Like the thought of you leaving was something he couldn’t understand.
“I hope you had a wonderful weekend, Seungcheol,” the voice echoed through the quiet, almost peaceful room. “Could you share with me how you've been feeling these days?”
“I did. And I’ve been feeling happier because I get to spend my whole day with my wife. She always smiles a lot when she’s with me.”
“That’s good to hear.” The man offered a small smile. “Now, can you tell me if anything unusual has happened?”
Seungcheol hummed, nodding slightly. “I had a dream. A really bad dream, doctor.”
The man leaned forward, listening intently.
“Is that so? Could you describe what kind of dream you were having?”
“There was a man. He looked like me, and in that dream...” he continued, almost as if he were retelling a story, “...he was different from me. Always alone, and as if people were afraid of him. I don’t like that person who looks like me in that dream.”
“Why is that, Seungcheol?”
“Because...” he hesitated. “Whenever I see him in my dream, my wife always cries because of me.”
A brief silence settled between them before Seungcheol continued.
“But doctor, my name is not Seungcheol,” he stated. “My wife always calls me Cheol. I don’t know why you keep referring to me by that name.”
“This might be confusing for you, but Seungcheol and Cheol are the same person.”
“What?”
Joshua let out a slow breath.
“In psychiatry, what you're experiencing is called Dissociative Identity Disorder,” he explained. “It’s commonly known as multiple personality disorder. The symptoms you're experiencing right now fit the criteria.”
Seungcheol simply stared at him. But the one sitting in front of him now was Cheol.
Not Seungcheol.
“You see, Seungcheol and Cheol are the same person,” Joshua continued. “And the person sitting in front of me is still Seungcheol, even when you tell me that you're ‘Cheol’ today.”
“But... that’s impossible. That’s not me...” he insisted.
Joshua opened his tablet and showed him a profile. Choi Seungcheol, part of the Diamonds Group—CEO of a financial institution.
Seungcheol looked unconvinced as he slowly examined the information displayed on the screen. It felt like he was looking at a complete stranger.
“Remember this,” Joshua continued gently. “Seungcheol and Cheol are one person.”
He paused in between.
“And we're here to find out what caused this trigger in the first place.”
TBC.
a/n: ayeee, how are we feeling for this prologue? let me know how it goes, feedback, comment, reblogs are appreciated.
OH MY. THE READER'S POV AND HER EMOTIONS ARE DESCRIBED SO WELL. I ALSO REALLY LIKE THE NARRATION PATTERN. HONESTLY CAN NOT WAIT TO SEE HOW THIS PROCEEDS. ICONIC FIC SERIES IN THE MAKING ☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼
🖤 vernon x f!reader
🖤 2.6k
🖤 mafia au
🖤 guns. blood. torture and interrogation and murder. mentions of various torture tools/methods. guard/attack dog vernon. gunplay. devotion bordering obsession (theyre both insane abt each other). slight misogyny directed towards reader. not smutty but they kiss bc ofc they do. it's not super super dark but proceed with caution. lmk if i forgot anything please!!
🖤 i... have no excuse. the thought entered my brain and clawed its way out and this is nothing like what i've written here before, but... wow, was it fun. and unhinged. and possibly toxic. BUT ANYWAY!! two drabbles in like 12 hours, i'm on a roll wow. thank you @bubbliegubs (and @gent1es3xy) for enabling me lol
Vernon does anything you ask of him. It makes interrogations... fun.
🖤
Your heels click against the concrete floor – back and forth, back and forth. The man in front of you, bound hand and foot to a chair, is far too confident at the moment for your taste. (The man behind you, silent and stoic and ready, is perfect.)
“I’m not telling you anything,” the scum snaps for the hundredth time. It’s almost enough to make your eye twitch, the way he looks like he might spit at you. If he did, you know he wouldn’t last the night. Maybe he knows it, too, with the way his eyes dart around the room. What was his name? Dojun? Something like that.
He doesn’t really matter, anyway. There are dozens of runners like him that know the name you need. He, like so many others, is expendable.
But it’s so much more fun this way.
“Let me tell you something,” you begin, letting your fingers drag across the careful assortment of weapons on the table. Your nails skitter over them – Scalpels. Knives. Tongs. Ooh, those are always fun. But tonight, as Dojun’s eyes track you back and forth, you know exactly what kind of fun you want. “You know who I am?”
Dojun raises his eyebrows. Scoffs. “Of course I know. But those are just rumors.”
“Mm, rumors. Yes. I’m sure nothing about how I built this empire from my father’s ashes could possibly be true. Because I’m a woman, maybe?”
You toss your hair over your shoulder. Dojun’s eyes follow you. So do someone else’s.
“You’re too pretty for this kind of work,” Dojun says, too cocky for someone tied to a chair. You have half a mind to backhand him. But on the other hand, you just got your nails done, and you’d hate to break one on someone like him. “There’s gotta be someone doing your dirty work, doll.”
“Oh, there is.” He’s given you an opening. The perfect one, maybe. You grin. “He’s perfect, actually. He does anything I ask of him. Shuts up when I tell him to. Speaks when I ask. You could take notes.”
A familiar shadow falls over your shoulder, and your smile widens.
Vernon. Silent and stoic and ready as ever.
You lift your hand, eyes still on Dojun, and let your fingertips trail down Vernon’s cheek. His head bows obediently. His lips ghost against the bare skin of your shoulder.
“You know,” you say, tilting your head to frown at Dojun, “we weren’t supposed to be here tonight. I had reservations at our favorite place.” You click your tongue, flick your finger, and Vernon’s hands move to your hips, just… holding. Dojun’s eyes drop, and you can’t blame him – Vernon’s firm grip and pale skin contrast beautifully, delectably, with the dark glitter of your fitted dress. It always does. Always will. “And my poor Nonie isn’t very happy about that, is he? Are you, darling?”
Vernon’s voice slides through the cold room, vibrating against your skin as he speaks into your shoulder. His chest burns against your back.
“No, my love.”
You hum. “And what are you hoping for?”
“I’m hoping you kill him quickly.”
Dojun’s eyes flicker with uncertainty, just for a moment. You smile and tilt your head, and, having received permission, Vernon leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck. “Thank you,” he even whispers against your skin. You tug on his tie, just once, as you step away, and he lets you go, his feet rooted to the floor.
“Now,” you say, heels clicking as you approach Dojun once more, “I hope you see that I could make him do anything to you. He wouldn’t flinch. I might not want to bloody my fresh set of nails,” you tell him with a flick of the nails, the pretty sparkly set that Vernon lost his mind over just two days ago, “but he has no such qualms. I might not be strong enough to rip your stomach out with my bare hands, but he certainly is. And he quite enjoys it, I might add.”
Dojun scoffs immediately – but it’s too immediate. Too quick. “No one’s crazy enough to do that.” He shifts in the chair, though the restraints make it hard. Good. “You’re just bluffing.”
A laugh of indignation rises, and you turn sharply on your heel to keep from slapping him. He’s really not worth breaking a nail on.
Instead, you hold your hand out, palm up.
Within moments, Vernon’s gun is in your hand, freed from its holster with the smooth fingers and steady hands that have guided you through so much. You smile and face him fully.
“Turn around,” you say, light, like it’s not even a command.
Still, he turns around, his back to you and his hands slipped easily in his pockets. There’s not even tension in the strong line of his shoulders. He’s entirely, utterly, relaxed.
You press the cold tip of the barrel against the soft spot at the base of his skull. His muscles jump for a moment, just a little, but he’s well-trained, and the calm returns rapidly.
“Knees.” This one’s an order. He drops, swift and silent, his knees hitting the ground with the softest little thud. You know he’s been practicing, not wanting to risk hurting himself. It’s endearing, really. You pull the gun away, just for a moment: “Head.” His head snaps back, jaw sharp, eyes meeting yours, and you have to smile, just a bit, at the way his pretty eyes glitter and shine. Just for you. Always just for you.
Then you walk around to his front. His eyes stay fixed on you, his hands still in his pockets, his head craned back even though it cannot be comfortable. His thighs will start to shake, eventually, with how far back he’s leaning. Not yet, though. He’s strong.
You hold out the gun, handle towards him, but he doesn’t move.
“Spin the chamber,” you tell him, and just like that, the gun is in his hands. He spins it, quick and precise, then locks it in place and returns it to you. His eyes only flick down once, but they return to yours as quickly as they’d left. You take the gun with one hand, and with your other you cradle his chin. His eyelashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes open and on you.
You tilt his head even further back and press the tip of the gun to the hollow of his throat.
Then his Adam’s apple. He goes completely still – doesn’t swallow. Doesn’t even breathe.
Then the underside of his chin. The muzzle fits neatly into the crook of his bone, dark against his pale skin.
You cock the gun. One move, now, one twitch of your finger on the trigger, and he’s gone.
Vernon knows. But his eyes stay fixed on you. I don’t mind, he told you once, as long as I can see you. Then if anything were to happen, though I trust that it won’t, your face will be the last thing I see. You’d kissed him for that. Again and again and again. And now his eyes stay on you, beautiful and brown and trusting, despite the active weapon against his skin.
He’s gorgeous.
“There’s no bullets in there,” Dojun declares.
Ugh. You’d almost forgotten he was there.
“You’re just pretending –”
You turn your head just enough to glare at him, and he shuts up.
“Would you like to tell me the name of your supplier now? Or do you need more proof that he would do anything I asked of him, including bringing me your spine to hang on my wall?”
Vernon’s fingers twitch where his hands are folded in front of him. He’s so eager. It’s adorable. You glance at him with a smile that eases the apology from his face.
“Not yet,” you tell him softly. “Soon, darling.”
“Soon?” Dojun blurts, but you ignore him. Let him stew in his own thoughts for a moment. Vernon, with his patient eyes and his trembling thighs, matters far more.
You tilt the gun, letting it dig into his chin a little more, and he rises with the pressure, nearly contorting his body to follow the slow rise of your hand. He could just stand up. But he doesn’t. He lets you guide him.
“The thing about someone like my Nonie,” you tell Dojun, although you don’t look at him, “is that he’s very hard to control. It might not look like it, I know, but trust me. I’m the only thing holding him back.”
You snap the hammer back into place, spin your grip on the gun, and level the barrel at yourself. Vernon’s eyes flash for a moment, worried, but then the trust settles back in.
“If anything happens to me,” you say as Vernon takes the handle, “he has full permission to do as he likes with you.” You let your fingertips trail down the barrel, guiding the tip to rest just above the line of your dress, in the hollow of your throat. It’s warm now, pressed against Vernon’s skin for so long. Your eyes drift to Dojun. He’s watching, silent, and you can almost see his heart beating in his throat. “And he likes to get messy with his toys.”
You reach up, eyes still on your prey, and cock the gun.
Once again, your life is in Vernon’s hands. There’s nowhere else you’d rather have it be.
Vernon doesn’t move. You lace your hands together behind your back. “But nothing is going to happen to me,” you say easily, “because Nonie is going to point that gun at himself, instead.”
You haven’t even finished by the time he’s fitted the muzzle back under his chin, finger still on the trigger.
“Good,” you tell him, brushing the backs of your fingers across his cheek. His throat bobs, and his eyes fill with an adorable longing, but you know he’s alright. He’d let you know if he wasn’t. “Stay.”
Dojun flinches as you turn to him. Oh. That’s good.
“So?” You smile.
He clears his throat. It doesn’t stop his voice from squeaking when he says, “I still think there’s nothing in there.”
You let your smile drop.
“Nonie, shoot him.”
BANG!
Vernon’s arm is extended past your shoulder, finger tight on the trigger, and Dojun’s screaming as blood trickles from a neat hole in his shoulder. You pat Vernon’s cheek, then step forward again, careful to avoid the growing puddle of blood. You’d hate for your dress to get dirty.
“Sorry,” you hum, tuning out the mindless blabber of screams. “What was that you were saying about the bullets?”
He just screams.
You sigh. “Never been shot before? How disappointing. I was hoping you’d have a higher pain tolerance. But maybe we should work on that. Put a matching bullet in your other shoulder, perhaps?”
“NO!” Dojun screams – the first comprehensible word since the bullet went in him.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh. Then tell me who your supplier is.”
“THE BULGAE!” Is Dojun crying? Oh, he really is disappointing.
But there’s your answer.
You straighten up. He’s begging for his life now, or something; you’ve stopped listening.
Vernon holds out the gun, handle offered to you, and you take it. But then you pause and glance up at him. His eyes are alive, his face sharp and perfect as ever, but a single lock of silvery hair has fallen into his face.
You brush it aside with the tip of the gun. He doesn’t flinch. He just looks down at you, gaze dark with adoration.
“There,” you say decidedly. “Perfect.” Dojun’s still screaming. He might be fully sobbing now. You really couldn’t care less.
You hook the gun beneath Vernon’s chin again. Slowly you draw him in. His breath catches, but you know it’s not from the burning steel against his skin. Not when his eyes are roving over your face, desperate as a dying man in the desert.
But he doesn’t move past where you’ve led him to. Because he’s a gentleman. (And a good boy.)
Oh, he’s everything.
“Go ahead,” you whisper, and Vernon doesn’t need to be told twice. You’ve given him permission, now, for whatever he wants, and he’s going to take it.
He cradles your face in his hands like you’re gold and jewels, and he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he can’t breathe. He’s been waiting so patiently, and you know what? So have you.
You let go of the gun, and before it can even fall he’s dropped a hand from your cheek to catch it. He knows you so well. He kisses you so hard that you almost don’t hear the screams.
Your hands curl into the lapels of his suit. His mouth burns against yours, soft and wet and perfect. His other hand slides from your cheek to your shoulder, down your back to your waist, and then his arm locks around your waist and he dips you.
Vaguely you notice the gun, reaching out over your head. Vaguely you hear it fire, again and again and again, and you feel Vernon’s body rock with the kickback as he empties the chamber into Dojun’s body. You don’t really care anymore. You barely cared in the first place. All that matters now is the way Vernon’s tongue dances with yours.
By the time you come up for air, the room is silent but for Vernon’s ragged breaths and your own quiet pants. His eyes are wild, sparkling, fixed on yours, riding the high of kissing you and killing a man at the same time. That’s his favorite way to do it, anyway.
There’s a little spot of blood on his cheek, dark red against pale skin, and you reach up and swipe it away with your thumb. You let your nails rest against his cheek, lifting your thumb just enough for him to see the red smear.
“Messy,” you chide. He drops his eyes to your hand, but only for a moment. Then his fiery gaze meets yours again.
“I’m sorry, my love.” His voice rolls over you, low and soft and worshipping and truly apologetic. “Here. Let me.”
He leans forward and presses his lips to the pad of your thumb. Gently, ever so gently, he kisses the blood away, his gaze locked on yours, and you just… watch. He’s so incredibly perfect. He only needs one arm to keep holding you up, even halfway to horizontal in this wonderfully low dip. The other hand, holding the gun, stays far away from you; he’d rather let his arm get sore than risk burning you.
When the blood is gone, he starts to pull back, but you catch his tie before he can move too far. He doesn’t even need you to guide him in again, and this time when he kisses you, it tastes of iron and steel and fire.
Eventually he guides you back to your feet, drawing you back towards the door and away from the bloody mess spilling over the concrete. He tosses the gun in the corner. His hand stays firm on your waist, even as he opens the door and ushers you through. He doesn’t like letting you go, and you don’t mind. You’ll be in his arms again soon, anyway, so why waste time?
“Clean up,” you order with a flick of your hand, and someone slips away. “The Bulgae have been supplying him and the others,” you tell someone else, and he nods and disappears.
The rest of the hallway empties quickly. Everyone knows not to get in your way.
Especially not when you’ve got Vernon at your side.
Pairing ✨ Professor Seungcheol x Female Student OC
Synopsis ✨ The day has finally arrived. Your masters is over, Seungcheol is moving to a different university to become head of faculty and so now you're left with only one thing you need to do. Prove to a certain someone that the hot professor has always been entirely and undoubtedly yours.
Genre ✨ established relationship, smut, fluff
Plot warnings ✨ can be read as a stand alone but it is the third story for these two (others are linked below), non-serious threats of violence (a given with this OC because people still will not leave her hot professor alone), Seungcheol spirals massively thinking she doesn't love him anymore, jealously, possessive OC (and Seungcheol tbh), professor x student dynamic (she's a masters student), age gap (he's 35- she's 25), very smut heavy
Smut warnings ✨ a very pouty Seungcheol for like a minute, he's big (fact.), sex in a stationary cupboard (it's a big one), a lot of bickering before/ during and after sex, a lot of purposely pissing each other off, both of them are battling to be in charge and yet neither of them are- they're just horny, semi public sex/ public sex (it's just one person but they're both well aware they can be heard) so I suppose exhibitionism?, unprotected sex, p in v sex, he ties her wrists with his tie for part of it, hair pulling (f.receiving), slight marking, slight nipple play and hint at lactation kink (it isn't overtly mentioned and it's the briefest hint), a new found breeding kink for both of them?, references to past and future anal sex (m.receiving), creampie, very over exaggerated dirty talk and moaning (they're doing it on purpose), some fluffy aftercare but then back to the bickering
Word count ✨ 7k
a/n ✨ I felt like these two needed a proper ending and I just really love their dynamic so much.
I've been on a roll recently and I've really gotten back into writing going to & from work on the train (god bless privacy screens and big commutes) so I'm just riding this wave whilst I'm loving writing again, hence why I've been uploading quite close together (sorry).
I've very nearly finished a Joshua fic and another Cheol one, so if you'd like to be tagged the link to the form is on my main page 🩷
Vanilla → Who's Vanilla Now Professor?
“You’re up to something.” Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you as he places his coffee back on the table.
“No I’m not.”
He assesses you, you know he doesn’t believe you and he’s not wrong. You are up to something. You’ve been up to something since you’d overheard two of your classmates having a whispered conversation two days ago.
“Can’t we just enjoy this last day?”
“Oh I fully intend to enjoy it,” You smirk into your coffee mug as Seungcheol eyes you warily.
“You scare me sometimes, you know?”
“In a good way?”
“I’m not sure,” he ponders whilst he takes a bite of toast, your smile only making him even more suspicious.
Your masters is over and thankfully you've found a job a little easier than you’d expected. In a few weeks you’d begin working at the local paper as a junior journalist and be done with university forever. Well, that is apart from Seungcheol moaning about deadlines and students who never hand in assignments on time. Although he will now be doing that at a new university. A head of faculty position came up at a university just outside of town and he was lucky enough to get the job, though you'd told him a million times it's them that's lucky to have him. It’s a little more of a commute but it’s only ten minutes away from your work so you can grab lunch a couple of times a week.
Both of you were excited for this new chapter in your lives but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss the dynamic you have. You don’t travel to and from university together but you’d gotten used to seeing him around campus every day and having his lessons three times a week. Yes, you live together and have for ages, but it’ll be odd to not know he’s around. That if you're having a really bad day you can go to his office and vent about what's annoying you.
One thing you won’t miss though is a certain someone who has always made you want to commit the most grotesque crimes known to mankind.
Jihoo.
Although ironically, Jihoo is the reason that Seungcheol has spent the whole morning, whilst you ate breakfast, looking more and more concerned about what you might be planning. Not that he has any idea it has anything to do with her, why would he? You never told him what you overheard. But you’ll be damned if you don’t teach that spiteful little teacher's pet a lesson she’ll never forget.
Two days ago:
“You are the only one in class he seems to be drawn to."
"Of course I am, have you seen the others in that class? All of them would struggle to win best in show at a dog show let alone manage to bag someone like him. Seriously he's lucky I'm there to relieve his eyes from the creatures taking up the seats.”
You don't condone calling other women bitches. But you'll make an exception for Jihoo. Wouldn't win best in show?! And creatures?! You knew she was a dick but you didn't think she was that cruel.
“He's into you, I can feel it."
You've no idea who this other woman is but she'll feel something soon. Mainly, your palm on her cheek. And not in a hot way.
“I know," you can hear Jihoo’s smirk even through the bathroom cubicle, “I'm going to wait until the last day. It's a stupid rule if you ask me, no relationships between students and professors, but I think that's the only reason he's not made a move yet, he's worried about us getting found out."
She can't be serious? Maybe she's talking about some other professor that's unlucky enough to have her in their classes. She cannot be talking about your Seu……
"This time next year, I'll probably be Mrs Professor Choi.” Her and her little lap dog both squeal and you're so shocked you almost fall off the toilet.
You'll kill her. And her friend. You don't care if it means Seungcheol having to visit you in prison, at least he still won't be hers. For two years you've sat and watched her bat her eyelashes and ogle your man and you just won't stand for it anymore.
“So are you going to talk to him after class?"
“It's a morning class though," she sighs and you can imagine her checking herself out in the mirror, “and he'll still technically have classes I suppose. I'm going to go back after last class. Then we can be honest with each other, then he won't technically be staff here anymore.”
Oh you'll be honest with her. She doesn't stand a chance. And you're going to show her that in the only way you know how.
Seungcheol may be the professor. But it's you that's going to teach her a lesson.
Seungcheol is sitting behind his desk when you enter the class. It's your first and last of the day. The last day of being a student entirely and, although you've got a plan for later today, you can't help the slight bounce in your step from excitement of all this finally being done.
Amazingly, because it's normally Jihoo, you're the first in the class. Though you know there's some of your classmates not far behind you so you can't do anything untoward. Seungcheol rushes from his chair regardless and peaks through the door to check if there's anyone coming whilst he grabs your hand.
“Last class then." He smiles softly.
"Hm-mm,” you grin.
"I'm so proud of you _____. I'm so proud to be your boyfriend." He kisses your forehead, his hands stroking your cheeks.
"Thank you," you reply with your hands on his arms as he continues to hold your cheeks, “I'm proud of you too y’know. Head of faculty at 35 is pretty good going Professor Choi.”
"You can show me how proud you are later.” He smirks though jumps back when he hears the door opening.
You rush off to your seat but send him a wink, or try to at least, causing Seungcheol to hold back a laugh at your feeble attempt.
You thought he'd forgotten that you seemed to be up to something this morning. But from the way his eyes dart to yours the second Jihoo walks in the room, he's clearly expecting something.
She does as she always does though. Waltzes in and makes a point of walking up to Seungcheol.
“Morning professor. I got you this." And she hands him a bag with something in it.
“I've told you Jihoo, you don't need to bring me food if we have a morning class. I've eaten already, twice actually."
You smirk into your hand and pretend to not be listening to their little interaction. You know what he means by that. He's eaten you this morning just before he ate his actual breakfast.
“I know I don't need to, I like doing it. I got you the almond croissant because I know they're your favourite." She says much too loudly like she's trying to gloat about it to the rest of the class. All she gets though is surreptitious eyerolls.
“Thank you Jihoo." He says, though there's no true feelings behind it. And hates almonds. So more fool her.
She swishes over to her desk, her false smile only being met with blank stairs of indifference and sits down, taking out everything she'll need and waiting patiently with her pen for Seungcheol to start the class.
"Ok everyone, I know……." You try not to groan when someone's hand flies into the air, “Yes. Jihoo." He tries to smile though you know he's already had enough of her.
“As the student representative for the class,"
When the fuck did that happen? You wonder whether it's just you that missed that happening but everyone else is exchanging confused looks too. So clearly she's just gone full dictator and decided it herself.
"I would just like to say that it has been an honour to be taught by such a wonderful teacher." Ass licker you think to yourself as you try not to look at her.
Seungcheol obviously is expecting you to glare at her, he thought that today would be the day that you finally put her in her place. He thought that's why you were being so odd. But you're not even looking over with your usual glare. You're just indifferent and if anything, that worries him more.
“Thank you and……”
"AND,” does she have no manners?! "As a thank you. We, well mainly me," she chuckles with her hand on her chest, “have bought you this."
Well it would only be her. You didn't know about it. And everyone looking horrified shows nobody knew about it.
“Er," he looks around the class, “thank you? It's been a pleasure teaching you, teaching all of you I mean." He adds in when Jihoo’s face lights up, presuming he only means her.
He glances at you again, hoping to enjoy your glaring, but just like before, you're just sitting quite happily at your desk waiting for the lesson to start.
This is very odd, Seungcheol thinks to himself. Do you not care that Jihoo is quite clearly flirting with him anymore? He loves how territorial you are over him, how protective you are of your relationship. And yet now you don't seem to care at all.
You've been together for years, before you even decided to do your masters. You were young when you met, he knew that. But 9 years isn't that big an age gap, although twenty one and thirty did feel a bit too big a stretch at the beginning.
It never felt weird though. You were made for each other, you just worked well together, right from the beginning. He knows you're the love of his life and he knows you feel the same. At least he thought he did but now you're happily letting this wannabe home wrecker flirt with him and you're not even sending her the normal daggers.
This is weird. And it's beginning to freak him out.
Maybe now you're coming to the end of this chapter of your life, you're coming to the end of Seungcheol too?
Well. He won't stand for it. He'll lock you in the wardrobe if he needs to until you see sense. You're not dropping him now. He knows he won't be able to function properly without you his life. And he won't let you just throw it away now you've moved on to a new stage in life.
He doesn't focus on the lesson after that, he just goes through the motions.
You're both lost in your own little worlds. Seungcheol in a world where he is dying alone, nobody around his deathbed aside from nurses who don't know him. And then you, completely lost in what you know is coming and with not a care in the world for the spiral your boyfriend is currently spinning down.
If you've timed everything correctly, and you're certain you have, this should all work like clock work. You know from overhearing the coven meeting Jihoo talking to her friend, that she intends to go to his classroom after final classes have finished. You know from Seungcheol that he doesn't have anything during his last two classes today. But he does have a little get together with the faculty before their final lessons of the day. They had leaving drinks a couple of days ago so you know once he's done with their little get together today, he has nothing else planned.
He was expecting you to go home. That's what you'd normally do if you had no classes. And that's what you did do, you had lunch with a couple of friends from your other classes and then headed home. But that was literally just to shower and to change because you've headed straight back to campus to set your little plan into action.
So now you’re waiting just past his classroom, hoping he won't see you from your watch post and hoping Jihoo doesn't arrive at the wrong time.
You hear him before you see him, promising to meet up with one of the older professors that you know he hates. But his fake promise of a drink in a few weeks helps you, because you can hear him getting closer without having to expose yourself to him just yet.
His door opens and closes and you take a moment to lean against the wall and take a deep breath. You're not nervous, you’re more excited to get your own back on that annoying idiot after two years of wanting to throw things at her in class.
You open his door slowly, hoping he won't hear you. It won't really matter if he does but you'd just rather have the element of surprise when you're a bit closer to him.
Perhaps sky high heels weren't the best idea you've ever had if you also wanted to walk in stealth mode but you somehow manage and your favourite professor doesn't realise you're there until it's too late.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!" He tries to look around on his spinny chair to see who the hell has decided to move him whilst he's trying to pack his bag. “_____?!"
“Yes professor?" You ask, like dragging a professor around on his wheely chair is totally normal.
“What the hell are you doing?!"
“Putting you in your stationary cupboard." You respond as though it should be obvious.
In the two years you've been in his classes, you'd never utilised this stationary cupboard. Which is a travesty when you consider it could probably hold about six people and it has no windows. It's the perfect spot. Yet when you've fooled around it's been in the classroom. Or that time under his desk.
"Why?!” He demands as you open the door to it and drag him in, "you could've just asked me to get up, you didn't need to drag me. Is this how you're going to break up with me? Just leave me here to rot?!”
You stop in shock, the door closing behind you, him sort of gliding into the middle of the cupboard on his own and you're both plunged into the darkness.
"Break up?!” You screech as you turn the light on. Not that it really adds much light, the light bulb must be ancient and it's more like candle light. But you can see him and that's what matters.
"You didn't glare at her this morning. Do you not love me anymore?"
"Of course I love you!”
"She was flirting with me _____, even more than normal and you just let her.” He folds his arms and looks away.
"I just zoned her out. I had more important things to think about.”
"More important than us?”
"I was thinking about us.” You pull the belt a little on your trench coat subconsciously.
“What?"
His eyes widen as he realises what you're wearing. It's far removed from the casual clothes you had on earlier. In fact he swears he's never seen that coat before in his life. But then, he wouldn't have. You ordered it whilst you were still on the toilet in the thirty seconds between Jihoo leaving with her little leech and you forming this plan.
"What are you doing?” He narrows his eyes at you, much like he did at breakfast.
"Making our last day one to remember.”
Your smirk is devilish as you undo the belt to the trench coat and let it fall to the floor. Seungcheol's jaw falls to the floor along with it when he realises you've walked through campus in nothing but a coat and sky high heels.
“Do you remember when you called me vanilla?"
He’s not listening. He's just staring at your naked body and the way you somehow look even hotter now you only have six inch heels on.
“That was," he licks his lips as you move your hair and the action makes your tits move a little, “that was ages ago. And you made your point."
“But you said I'd never fuck in public."
“I say a lot of things,” he dismisses you, "come here.”
"Do you remember you said I'd never fuck in public?" You press again.
“Yes!" He answers distractedly, palming himself over his pants with his eyes on your pussy rather than your face.
“I just wanted to check if you remembered, that's all."
“Is that what this is, you proving your point again?"
“It will be."
He doesn't catch what you say or what you mean, just hums and decides he's tired of waiting for you to move. He drags himself along the floor on his chair, obviously forgetting he has fully functioning legs and stops right infront of you, his eyes level with your pussy.
“This is what you’ve been planning?”
“Mostly,” you shrug like you don’t want to pounce on him.
“So this is the reason you didn’t pay attention in your last lesson of your whole education,” his fingers wander up and down your thighs now you’re standing between his spread legs, “you were too busy thinking about kidnapping the professor?”
“It’s hardly kidnap when we’re still in your classroom,” you reply though he knows his tantalising fingers are affecting you from your goose bumped skin.
“So what’s your plan now?” His puppy dog eyes look up at you as he leaves little kisses all over your stomach.
Oh. You stare down at his chair, there is just one slight flaw in your plan.
“Does that chair have brakes?”
“Why?” You feel him smirk into your skin.
“Because I imagined this going a certain way but I forgot your chair had wheels.”
“You’ve just wheeled me in here.”
“Can we not do this now? I’m on a tight schedule.”
He frowns at you but decides kissing painfully close to your dripping pussy is a far better use of his brain power than figuring out what the hell you’re talking about.
“It’s got brakes.” His kisses just above where you ache for him, exactly where he knows it will annoy you most. “What…..w-what the fuck?!”
You don’t give him a chance to think, just wheel him back to the middle of the room and kneel down to undo his belt.
“Lift your ass up,” You roll your eyes when he doesn't move for you.
“You’re so badly behaved. It’s bad enough you ignored my lesson, kidnapped me and now you’ve forgotten basic manners?”
“Do you want this or not?” You bark at him, you’re already getting pissed off because you had no fucking idea it was so hard to kneel down comfortably in stilettos.
“I want you to say please.”
A stand off ensues. Both of you refusing to break eye contact. You on the floor butt naked other than satan's shoes and him in his chair looking like a toddler in a suit. The trouble is though, you really don’t have time for this if you want this to play out like you hope it does.
“Please professor, can you lift your perfect ass so that I can take your big dick out and ride it like a pony?”
“That depends.” He says arrogantly.
“On what?!”
“Did you get me a gift? Jihoo got me a gift and a croi…….. Don’t do that!!”
“Why?” you ask as you stand up and reach to get your coat.
“I thought I was being ridden like a pony.” He whines.
“That was before you annoyed me. Now I’m going home to ride my dildo like a pony and you can organise your pens or whatever the fuck you do in this overly large stationary cupboard.”
“Put that coat on and I won’t touch you for a week.” His voice suddenly turns cold and you will yourself to remain stoic.
“Oh please,” you scoff, though don’t move to actually put the coat on, “you can’t help yourself. You’re just an old simp.”
He throws himself out of his chair, his suit jacket thrown clumsily on one of the shelves and his pants and underwear discarded in the blink of an eye as soon as he has his shoes off. He takes his shirt off and if you were paying attention you’d realise he’s still got his tie in his hands. But you don’t, because your eyes are drawn to the rather massive elephant in the room.
“Right.” He flops back down into the chair, his dick bouncing as he does, “Happy? Come here.”
“No,”
“For fucks sake I was only joking about her!”
“It’s not that. Socks,” You glance down at his feet. You’d barely even noticed his dick until he sat down because there is no way in hell you’re fucking someone who's wearing pokemon day of the week socks. They’re not even the right day.
“You’re ridiculous,” he glares as he reaches down to take his socks off, “you know that?”
“And yet you’re still rock hard for me.”
“And yet you’re still dripping down your thighs.” He smiles sarcastically at you as you glance down and realise he’s right. “I’m tired of this.” He scoots over to you again and stops directly in front of you, glowering as he reaches down to put the brakes on. “Hands.”
“What?” You give him a startled look.
“Give me,” he lifts his tie up, “your hands.”
This you weren’t expecting. You just thought it’d be simple. You’d ride him, he’d get too worked up like he always does and he’d end up bouncing you on his dick like an overenthusiastic jack in the box.
You turn around and hold your wrists out behind you, your heart pounding and hands shaking a little in excitement as his hands grope your ass now it’s directly in front of him.
“Good girl,” he smirks as he binds your wrists with the silk tie, “I don’t know what you thought you were doing baby, waltzing in here like it was your right, like you were the one in charge in this classroom.” He tests that you’re secure before making himself comfortable in the chair.
“Go on then,” he leans back, his arms resting on the chair arms like he isn’t waiting for you to ride him.
“You’re not going to do anything first?” Your turn around.
“You’re already fucking soaked, don’t act like you can’t take it baby.”
“I was just asking,” you mumble.
Seungcheol holds your hips as you straddle him, he may be in one of those moods but he’s not going to let you hurt yourself for the sake of this and your obscene shoes. It’s only when you’re in position and he’s lazily holding his dick so you can lower yourself onto it, that you realise this is going to be fucking awkward to do.
You’re in huge heels, your hands are behind your back and so you’re not best placed to slowly move yourself up and down his much too big dick repeatedly until you’re fully impaled. And one look at him tells you he figured this out long before you did.
It’s not like you’re not used to the size of him, you are. Mostly. But just taking him in one go, in heels and with wrists bound? It feels more like a squid game challenge than the simple fuck you’d envisaged.
You take a deep breath and with Seungcheol positioning his dick in one hand and holding your hip in the other, you lower yourself down onto him.
The stretch burns but in a familiarly pleasurably way. He’s the only man that’s ever made you feel this sort of beautiful burn and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way it stings slightly as your boyfriend's big dick feels like it breaks you in two.
“Doing so good for me,” He tries to soothe you through gritted teeth. If you’ll never get used to the size of him, he’ll definitely never get used to how it feels as your pussy slowly drags him further and further into your snug, warm walls.
Your calves are burning from how slowly you’re trying to lower yourself down because you can’t hold onto him or to anything.
Fuck it, it’ll burn for like a second but think of how great it’ll feel when you’re so full of him you can’t breathe properly. And so you just go for it.
“Fuck!!” You both cry out in unison when you just let yourself sit on him in one swift movement.
“Why are you so fucking big?” You grumble as you try to take deep breaths, your head resting on his shoulder.
“Then I can fuck you so well that you’re so tired, you stop being fucking weird for two mintues,”
“You’ll be sorry you said that.” You lift your head to challenge him.
“Oh yeah?”
“I ordered a strap last week that’s the exact same size as you. You won’t be so fucking cocky when you’re crying because my big dick is streching your ass so much that you can’t even think straight.”
You ward off a smirk when he tries to act like that hasn’t had any effect on him. But his dick gives him away, you feel him twitch inside you.
“You like that idea? You’re always so pathetic when it comes to your ass Seungcheol. You’re such a……Owww!” You whine, your whole body jolting when he pulls your hair back and sucks a mark onto your neck.
“Aren’t,” you sigh in pleasure, “aren’t you too old for hickies?”
You know you’re annoying him but these marks will only make all of this even more enjoyable in the end.
He doesn’t answer, just pulls your hair again so the other side of your neck is presented to him and sucks another harsh mark.
“Move,” He sits back in his chair with an arrogant look on his face that makes you unknowingly clench around him.
“Say please,” Why are you doing this? You’re desperate to move and yet you’re still trying to act like you have any authority in a situation, where your hands are already out of action and you’re completely beholden to him.
“Don’t then,” He puts his hands behind his head, looking completely disinterested.
You glance at the clock. You haven’t got time for this.
“I knew you wouldn’t hold out for long,” he chuckles as your hips slowly start grinding on him.
Oh. Well you didn’t expect that, you might need to wear heels more often for days you feel like taking a ride on his office chair. Your feet are easily cemented on the floor and if anything they’re helping you move a little easier than normal and he feels like he’s almost hitting even deeper because of it. You’re struggling to even care that you can’t hold onto anything, your hips speed up and eventually you feel him hit that epic spot inside you so hard that you turn to fully bouncing on him just to feel him hit it even harder.
“Look at you _____, finished top of all your classes but forget anything and everything the second you can bounce on my big dick,”
You’re not listening to him and you don’t care what he’s saying, you bounce away on his dick with not a care in the world. Your juices dripping down on him only make the sound of your ass landing on his thighs even louder as you throw your head back in pleasure and the room is filled with a loud wet smacking sound.
“Oh sorry,” he continues on like he’s just having an everyday conversation, “I mean most of your classes. Someone beat you in mine.”
Your blood boils but instead of rising to it and giving him a piece of your mind like you know he wants, you channel that anger into fucking yourself onto him even harder, determined to stop his ability to speak from the way you’re riding him then he’ll shut the fuck up.
“Jesus,” he finally loses his act and his jaw clenches from how fucking good you feel.
“Professor Choi,” you hear an annoying perfect voice in the distance.
“Fuck,” he sits bolt up right and grabs your hips to slow you a little, “baby I think I heard someone.” He whispers.
But something wicked takes over you. Even more wicked than you expected. Because you knew she’d be here, you knew what was going to happen. But now it’s actually happening, you feel like you want to do one of those overly sinister cackles that villains always do in films whilst you ride his dick.
You stop bouncing and fully ride him like a woman possessed, his hands trying to slow you but they can’t. This is what you’ve been waiting for, this exact moment is what you’ve been thinking about for two whole days.
“Professor Choi?” The voice sounds a little closer now, presumably close enough that they’ll soon be able to hear you leaking all over the hot professor's perfect dick and close enough that soon they’ll be able to hear him cum in you and prove once and for all just who he belongs to.
“_____? There’s someone here!” He whisper shouts, obviously panicking.
You lean back, your hips still moving quick, your tits boucing and breathing ragged but you’re not too tired to smirk at him.
“I don’t care.”
“Professor Choi?” The nearby voice sounds concerned now, like she knows he’s here and maybe realises what he’s doing but not really believing it, “It’s me Jihoo. Are you here?”
You watch, your pussy still slamming down on his dick and making sure all you can hear is his brain working and your sopping cunt, as realisation dawns on Seungcheol.
“You knew,” he tries not to moan when you clench around him but he can’t help it, you feel too fucking good, “you knew she was going to be here?”
“Maybe,” You go back to bouncing to make sure she truly hears just how incredible her perfect Professor Choi really feels. It's truly obscene just how loudly you're smacking yourself down onto him.
“Oh my god baby your big dick feels so fucking good!!!!” You moan much too loudly, trying not to laugh at yourself or his look of horror. “I’m gonna cum professor all over your big dick!!!!!!”
You can’t help yourself and it’s at that moment that Seungcheol’s brain finally catches up with him. Sure, he’d realised you knew she’d be here, that much was obvious. But he was right, you are going to finally put her straight, just not like he thought. He presumed you’d shout, or give him an overly dramatic kiss at the end of class. He didn’t think you’d truly prove to her that he’s yours.
Something animalistic takes hold of him. You want to claim him so much as yours but he’s never stopped to realise just how much he wants to do the same. He’s spent two years watching this woman upset you, to go out of her way to put the whole class down with her entitled ways. But he’s seen how you’ve doubted yourself every so often because of her. So fuck it, between the pair of you, you can show her that sometimes, well sometimes, she doesn’t always get what she wants.
“Baby?" He whispers and you look at him straight away, even stopping your over dramatic moaning you were putting too much effort into, “do you want me to untie your hands? You might need to hold on,"
You frown at him but before you can even stop your bouncing he's whipped the tie off, grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you down onto his dick just as he thrusts up.
“Fucking hell!!!" You're not even trying to put it on now, he's just hit deeper inside you than he ever has in all your years together.
"That's it baby, does it feel good when I bounce you on my fat dick?”
You can't answer. If you speak you're certain it's just going to be all wobbly, he's bouncing you around on his dick so much that all you can do is hold on and enjoy the ride.
“Answer me ______!!!" He says your name so loudly and so proudly that you can't help but clench around him, moaning when a fresh wave of arousal leaves you making everything even louder.
"Yes Seungcheol i-it feels so good, want you to c-cum inside me,”
You smile through your ecstacy when he moans so loudly, and so ridiculously, that you're certain someone heard him in the next town.
"Yeah? Maybe,” he hammers his dick into you again and again, the chair squeaking and brakes presumably holding on for dear life as his hips move painfully quick, "want me to fill you up? How about,” you're just babbling, the only thing you're really focussing on is how fucking good he feels, "I fill you up properly? Make sure nobody ever forgets who you belong to?”
Fuck do you like that idea, making sure that everybody knows you're each others.
"I could fuck a baby into you,”
He could do what?! Yeah you've spoken about kids in the future but never seriously. And not during sex. But why does that turn you on so much? Why are you dribbling down his balls even more and thrusting your hips so they help his movements?
“We could," he grunts, “turn the spare bedroom into a nursery. Fuck you'd look so good, so full of me all the time. Everyone knowing I did that to you."
Well you're not sure whether you and Seungcheol will ever have kids but at least you've both discovered your breeding kink together. It's like couples bonding.
“Imagine it _____," he exaggerates your name again, “everywhere, so full." His lips wrap around one of your nipples, his hips still pistoning into you.
“Fuck," you cry, “Cheol I'm gonna cum,"
“Me too baby, you feel so fucking good, always so fucking good,"
And with his hands bruising your hips, the idea of him fucking a baby into you and his lips now wrapped around your other nipple, gently sucking on it in complete juxtopistion from how ruthless his hips are, you cum all over his dick. Your body shaking, your voice wobbling from the force he's keeping and any thought of Jihoo completely gone. All you can think about now is how much you want him to cum in you, the idea of him making you his in a whole new way only drawing your orgasm out for longer.
The groan Seungcheol lets out and the warm, almost homely feeling that buzzes through you when he cums makes the end of your orgasm feel even better. His hips move sloppily as he empties himself deep inside you, his eager mouth still sucking like it's soothing him after one hell of an orgasm.
But eventually his hips slow, his hands loosen and change to soothing rubs on your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck and gaze at him in awe.
“That's new." You smile, kissing the tip of his nose.
“I don't know where it came from," he says softly, “do you think she's still here. I forgot she was there half way through."
“No idea, don't really care. I love you Seungcheol," you smile, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. One he happily hums into and wraps his arms around your waist.
“I love you too, but," he smiles when you frown a little, “can I ask how you intend to get home, are you wearing your coat and heels?" He grins, hoping he's caught you out.
“You underestimate me so much?"
“Not at all," he holds you closer and makes you groan, “just want to check whether I need to watch out for any strong gusts of wind."
“I brought clothes with me." You roll your eyes, though wince slightly when you stand up and he slips out of you, his cum along with it.
“Hold on, I think there's some paper towels the janitor used to keep in here."
“You really know how to treat a lady," you muse, watching him stand up and enjoying the way his back looks when he reaches for the top shelf.
“Hey," he kneels down to clean you up a bit, “what can I say, this old simp likes to be a gentleman."
Once you're cleaned up, you hand him the clothes you brought for him too.
“You really did think of everything didn't you?" He smiles as he puts the sweats on you've brought him.
“That, professor, I did."
You smugly put the sweater on you've brought and drag some sweat pants on, waiting for him to notice what you're wearing.
“Are you serious?"
“What?" You turn around innocently once your much more comfortable shoes are on.
“That’s the only sweater you could find?"
“I wear it at home."
“It's got a hole in it, you never wear it outside the apartment."
“Well I felt like it." You shrug innocently.
“You just felt like wearing my old university rugby sweater? Just felt like wearing something that has my name on the back of it?"
“Yes." You say matter of factly and shove your heels and coat into your bag.
“I love you, you know." He crashes into you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind and his chin resting on your shoulder.
"I love you too. Are you ready to go?”
"I am. Fuck,” he holds you a little closer, "I can't wait for this new chapter you know. Both of us moving on but together.”
"You're not annoyed with me?” You ask quietly.
"Why would I be?” He makes you turn to him, his brows knitted together in concern.
"For all this,” you gesture to the room.
"I couldn’t give a fuck about what she heard or what she didn't. She's been a complete ass for two years. She shouldn't be going into people's classrooms when she's not been invited in.”
"Ok,”
"______,” he makes you look at him, "I'm not mad. I fucking love you and this whole thing has been so hot. How could I be mad? I get to go home with the woman I love and look forward to better things.”
"You're sure.” You pout a little.
"I'm so sure. Now let me treat you to dinner.”
"We’re hardly dressed for dinner.” You snicker, reaching for your bag.
"Burgers in the car? We can listen to that podcast you've been droning on about and make out on the backseat."
"Paper towels and burgers. How can I resist?!” You say sarcastically and laugh when he playfully spanks your ass.
"Wait,” he smashes into you when you stop at the door without opening it, "do you think she's out there?” You whisper.
"Isn't that what you wanted?”
"I didn't think about after. Oh my god do you think she's called the police?!” You whisper shout.
"It's not illegal for a couple to fuck in a cupboard.”
"But maybe she knew, we knew she was there.”
"Again. Isn't that what you wanted?”
"But isn't that illegal? Having sex in front of other people?”
"Are you ill?”
"What?”
"Why would it be illegal to have sex in front of people? Never heard of a cuck chair? And I didn't say she could come in here. She's barged in on two people having sex. Just chill out,”
"You won't be saying that from your cell,”
He doesn't listen, just shoves you out the way with his hip and opens the door. He pokes his head through, checking nobodies there and then opens it a bit wider when he knows it's just you two.
“See," he holds his hand out for you, “just me, you and our new breeding kink. Oh my god do you think…..”
"No.” You stop him before he starts, with a finger on his lips.
"You don't know what I'm going to say.” He mumbles against your finger.
"I do. And I'm not ordering another strap, we've got a store at this point and I'm not putting shit in it. Imagine the mess.” You walk off and out of the classroom, knowing he'll catch you up once he's got his bags.
"I give it a week,” he runs up behind you as you leave the building, "and there'll be a delivery man, with another sex toy, at our door."
"Maybe,” you grumble as you walk together, Seungcheol still with his arm around your shoulder, "she's there.” You whisper, "well don't look idiot!”
"Well how could I know who you mean without looking?”
You both glance out the corner of your eyes and the sight makes you feel more smug than you ever have. Jihoo, surrounded by her little minions, clearly furious and all of them glaring over as you and the hot professor strut past them towards the car. Your plan couldn't have worked out better. Now there's no doubt in the world that her hot professor was never hers. He's only ever been yours. And you his.
"Pleased with yourself?” He grins, kissing you on the cheek.
"Is she still looking?”
He glances behind him quickly and nods, just as you both get to the car.
"Good.” You pull him by his hoody and crash your lips into his, revelling in the way all of their eyes burn into the back of your head and how Seungcheol straight away grabs your ass to bring you closer to him.
"Just so you know,” you give him one last kiss before he opens the trunk for you to put your bags in, "I'm very pleased with myself.”
He smiles and closes the trunk but neither of you move just yet.
"Are you ready to go Mr Head of Faculty?”
"I think we better had,” he spots someone in the distance, "the Dean is over there."
You both panic and throw yourselves into the car, laughing to yourselves and knowing that you're driving away from these past two years and into a completely different, more exciting phase in your life. Together. And now everyone knows it.
AHHHHHHH OMG IM GOING TO MISS THIS COUPLE LIKE CRAZY.
seungcheol as a professor is definitely hot but please, im in love with the way you wrote the reader's character. and her finally getting back at jihoo was so fun to read! i'm going to miss these two. they make such an amazing couple 🥹 🌸 ✨
Synopsis ✨ In which you caught your boyfriend's flu, as did his best friend. And so you decide to be ill together to make it easier for your caring boyfriend to look after both of you. (Mingyu is their permanent third wheel.)
Genre ✨ Established relationship (Wonwoo x OC), fluff
Warnings ✨ very whiney OC and Mingyu, Wonwoo is a saint and just wants them to leave him alone, talks about oral m. recieving but no actual smut, talks of mxm oral but that's just Mingyu trying to get cuddles
Word Count ✨1.9k
a/n ✨ Just something silly to break up my last post and part 3 of my Wonwoo fic because they're both pretty smutty (:
“You did this to me” you sniffle down the phone.
Wonwoo is aware he’s done this to you. He’d had a horrible flu a week ago and because you’re his perfect girlfriend, you’d gone above and beyond to make sure he was ok, bringing him soup and ginger tea to get his strength back up. He’d told you not to bother, that he didn’t want you to get sick, but you didn’t listen. Told him you were made of strong stuff, and no flu had every brought a member of your family down.
That is until now.
“Why are you moving around? I can hear you walking.”
“I’m not walking, I’m shuffling. Hurry up please.”
“What?”
He doesn’t get an answer, you cut the line dead and he stares at his phone as the doorbell to his apartment rings.
Sighing, he tries to call you back but it’s goes straight to voicemail.
Opening the door, he stops dead at what he finds.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”
You don’t answer, just shuffle past him in your big puffer jacket, cheeks flushed, forehead sweaty and hair tied up in a high ponytail.
“_____, did you drive here?!” he marches after you, catching you as you wobble over slightly taking your shoes off.
“No.” You say like he’s an idiot, he tries not to laugh at the fact it sounds more like you’re saying dough instead of no because of your blocked nose. “I got an Uber. Charged it to your card seeing as how you’re actively trying to kill me.”
You don’t give him chance to respond. Just shuffle off towards the living room in your huge jacket and fluffy socks that you’ve tucked your sweatpants into. He can already sense this isn’t going to end well for him. The other person he’d infected with his flu is currently doing his best Oscar winning performance on the sofa, covered in too many blankets and piles of used tissues.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s aware how lucky he is that his best friend/ roommate gets on so well with his girlfriend, but together? You’re the most ridiculous pair of people he’s ever met in his life.
He walks around the corner to the living room just as you’re waddling towards the sofa.
“Mingyu!!” you say dramatically, holding out your arms like he’s just come back from war.
“_____, how did you make it here?!”
If the flu doesn’t kill you both. Wonwoo will.
“I took an Uber, Wonwoo paid,” you land on the sofa, your puffer jacket more or less inflating around you.
“You say that like I offered. What you’ve just done is basically theft.”
Your head whips around in horror, bright red nose illuminated by the lamp on the little table by the sofa.
“You’d begrudge me a car ride on my death bed?!”
“Asshole” Mingyu adds before sneezing for the tenth time since Wonwoo has been home.
There’s no point arguing. He knows that he won’t win with the two most dramatic people in Korea.
“Why are you here?”
“Oh, that’s very nice.”
“Asshole.” Mingyu repeats.
He just wants to go to bed, he’s already tired from the amateur dramatics going on in front of him.
“No.” He sighs, counting to three in his head to calm himself down. “I mean, I was going to come to yours to make sure you were ok. Why have you come here when you’re not well?”
You both stare at him like he’s grown several extra heads.
“We’re both ill Wonwoo.”
He’s aware you’re both ill. But why are you saying it like that justifies you leaving your apartment when you’re running a fever and you look like hell?
“You’d leave me here to perish?!” Jesus Christ you’re a pair of lunatics, “we thought this would make it easier for you. But excuse us for trying to make your life easier.”
You nod eagerly in agreement with Mingyu’s outburst, the movement making you a little woozy, so you have to steady yourself.
“_____, you’re my responsibility, not Mingyu.”
The six foot two baby clutches his chest dramatically whilst you give Wonwoo an offended look.
“I’m not your responsibility. I’m a grown woman!”
You try to stand up to prove your point but quickly fall back down to the sofa landing in your huge coat again. The way you’ve done it up to the top makes you look like one of those children’s toys that wobbles around and never falls over. If you weren’t so annoying, he’d think you were even cuter than normal.
“Your lack of women’s rights sickens me.” Mingyu adds, shaking his head.
He won’t rise to it. He just needs to get you both soup and meds and then you’ll both hopefully crash out on the sofa, and he can go to bed.
“I want a cuddle.”
Your pout might be the biggest he’s ever seen. And he’d love to take you into his arms. But you’re snotty and sweaty and, to be honest, gross. But your pout deepens when he doesn’t move and so he moves towards the sofa taking you into his arms trying to ignore a sour faced Mingyu on his other side.
“Is that better?” he asks, hoping he’s at least bringing you some comfort.
“Mm it’s nice.” You say, burying your sweaty head into his chest.
“And what about me? I’m suffering too you know?”
“Grow up.”
Daggers are shot at the back on Wonwoo’s head from his best friend, as he soothingly rubs your back.
“I don’t see why she gets privileges I don’t.”
Oh, he truly hates this bit. The part in your dramatics where you inevitably turn on each other.
“I’m higher up than you.”
“Bullshit.” A sneeze and wipe of his nose. “What puts you higher than me?”
There’s not even any point in Wonwoo trying to stop this, it’s the same every fucking time something slightly bad happens.
“Do you suck his dick? No, I don’t think so. Therefore,” you gesture your hands that around Wonwoo’s back wildly, your tissue flying onto the coffee table, “I get cuddles and you don’t.”
“That’s not fair!” Wonwoo grimaces, the flu making Mingyu sound even whinier than normal, “I’m not given the opportunity to suck his dick, let me do it then I can have cuddles.”
“No!”
Is he still here? He feels like he’s still sat on the sofa with his disgustingly sweaty girlfriend in his arms. But he can’t be sure. Surely, he gets a say at who gives him head?
“You don’t get to decide that without discussion!” Mingyu’s argument may have been stronger if he hadn’t started wheezing by the end of it.
“I do get to decide that actually because he’s mine.”
Wonwoo can’t help but smile at you being so territorial over him, he’d just rather your nose wasn’t running whilst you said it.
“He was my friend before he was yours.”
“Let’s ask him who he prefers then!”
You sit back, the speed at which you did it meaning you fall back slightly before you do one of the biggest sneezes Wonwoo’s ever heard in his life.
“Shit do you have to be so loud!”
“Well, I’m sorry Kim Mingyu but it isn’t my fault I sneeze better than you.”
Children. In fact, children, Wonwoo thinks, would be better behaved and less chaotic when they’re unwell, than you two.
“Who do you prefer?”
He looks between you both. Red noses, a tissue hanging from Mingyu’s nose as you try to get out of your huge coat and into a blanket.
“Neither of you.”
He gets up and walks to the kitchen, chuckling a little to himself at the dramatic wails that he leaves behind.
“Now do either of you need anything else?”
He puts soup onto your trays as you both lay on either side of the sofa, where you’ve managed to find so many blankets is beyond him. He’s certain there aren’t this many in the apartment.
“Is this chicken soup?”
“Have you made it?”
You’re both now talking at the same time, like two long lost twin idiots who have reunited to make his life hell.
“Yes, it’s chicken soup. No, I haven’t made it, I ordered it from that place down the street that you both like.”
This seems to appease you both for a few minutes, both of you burning your tongues having dived in even though he’d told you that it was hot when he put it on your trays.
Once you’ve finished your soup, both of you quite content, he places meds and glasses of water in front of you.
“Take these.”
You frown at the packet.
“These are what I got you! You didn’t take them?!”
“Asshole.”
Wonwoo glares at Mingyu as he throws the tablets in his mouth, swallowing them down with the water he’d given him. Is he satisfied that he throws it over himself a little? Yes, he is. Because karma is a bitch.
“I bought new ones ____. Just fucking take them.”
“You don’t have to be so mean to me.”
Fuck, even though you’re annoying, the fact little tears are swelling in your eyes, breaks his heart.
“I’m sorry baby,” he kneels at the side of the sofa, trying not to cringe at how sweaty your head feels as he soothingly smooths your hair out, “please take them, you’ll feel better.”
“Are you going to stay here with us?”
“This sofa barely fits you two, I’m not sure I’ll manage it.”
Your pout deepens, your fingers holding onto his shirt.
Wonwoo sighs, staring at the ceiling for a moment. The things he does for the people he loves.
“I’ll set up a little bed here next to the sofa, does that work?”
“Yes,” you whisper, “thank you.”
A loud sob breaks the moment.
“That was the sweetest shit I’ve ever seen.” Mingyu wipes tears from his eyes with his tissue.
He ignores you both, the pair of you now sobbing together, and takes a quick shower.
Fifteen minutes later and Wonwoo is finally ready for much needed sleep. He’d set up the single air bed, from Mingyu’s camping shit, next to the sofa and brought his duvet and pillows in so he was more than comfortable.
You peer down at him from the sofa, you and Mingyu still sharing it, even after you’d pinched his leg because his “huge fucking foot” was in your face.
“Thank you for looking after us. I love you Wonwoo.”
All the drama of the evening subsides when those four words he loves so much, leave your mouth.
“I love you too, baby. Get some sleep.”
You nod a little and pull the blanket up and under your chin.
“I LOVE YOU TOO WONWOO.”
He sighs, hearing you giggle a little as you dose off to sleep.
“I love you too Mingyu.”
He may grumble about it, but he would truly do anything for you both.
You may be dramatic idiots, but you’re his dramatic idiots.
Synopsis ✨ It wasn't that you hated your boss, you just disliked him. Disliked how the women of the office fell to their knees for him, disliked the fact he was simply given everything in his life, disliked his perfect, flawless hair. But suddenly, one argument and two fortune cookies are going to bring you a hell of a lot closer to the man who hate dislike.
Genre ✨ Enemies to Lovers, sort of workplace romance, angst, eventual fluff and eventual smut
Word count ✨ 5.3k
Warnings ✨ several misunderstandings, angst, arguments, feelings of not being good enough or out of place in the work place, toxic parents, POV switches between OC and Wonwoo
Part 1 of 3
Masterlist is here
Part 2 is here
a/n: I've got a lot of fics written that I've been planning to upload for years and was never brave enough but I thought, fuck it, so here's my first upload. Thank you to anyone who reads it :)
This is obviously very heavily based on Freaky Friday which I loved growing up, I just wanted something fun for my first upload. The first part is mainly from Wonwoo's perspective.
All feedback (please be kind) is appreciated!
It is currently 8:35 in the morning. And yet the office is missing one of its key members of the team. Not that anybody else in this god forsaken place has realised, they’re probably much too busy finding the polish for the crown that will sit upon the missing team member's enormous head. Alright. Fine, maybe his head isn’t enormous. In fact it's probably just as annoyingly perfect as the rest of him. All you can do is hope he has a tiny dick because something about the man has to be imperfect.
The man in question is Jeon Wonwoo, the son of the CEO of Shadow Gaming Inc, one of the top game developing companies in the world. Not that anyone in this office could describe themselves as a gamer. When you’d joined the company you’d hoped to put your degree to some use and become a game developer yourself. You’d spent much of your youth hiding away in internet cafes to drown out the noise of the world around you. It was the only thing that got you away from an alcoholic father and a mother who did nothing but think of herself. Even on your birthday she made the whole day a remembrance event for the trauma of “pushing your huge head out” and nothing of the day being your day. So you’d learnt early in life that the few things that would never let you down were yourself and Zelda.
Your game developing dreams came to an end though when you were placed in marketing. You’ve no idea how you’d even ended up in this department. They knew your degree was in developing and yet still placed you here amongst, quite frankly, the bitchiest women you’ve ever come across. You’d been looked down upon when you’d first arrived because you were just using an everyday bag that anyone could buy from a store. It wasn’t ugly, it was cute but functional. But it seemed the women in the marketing team of Shadow Gaming Inc saw the job more of a fashion show rather than a place to develop a game that would help little kids like you were, feel less alone.
They all had the latest offerings from Chanel and Dior, you’d even spotted one with a Coach bag that your mother had bought herself as a gift on your 14th birthday. And it isn’t that you wouldn’t love one of those kinds of bags, you would. But you’d had to put yourself through one of the top universities in the country, you were still paying back student loans every month and your apartment took about sixty percent of what you got paid each month. Add in the fact that your parents had guilt tripped you that you should be paying them some of your pay each month, you had very little spare in the way of money for designer goods.
And so they’d all decided that you were either poor and so therefore beneath them. Or you were arrogant and felt you were better than them. And neither was the case. You had nothing to be arrogant about, your life wasn’t perfect. Theirs seemed to be but you didn’t care too much about them now. You were used to them. You loved working for this company, they had gaming suites where you could try out the latest games currently in development, you’d made good friends in the accounting department, Yunjin and Jeonghan were now your ride or dies, and the food in the cafeteria was good. What more could you need?
One thing. A boss that wasn’t Jeon Wonwoo.
He was the manager for the marketing department and as the son of the CEO, he’s been given everything in his life on a silver platter. He went to the top university, no doubt they paid him to go there such is the importance of the Jeon family and then was launched straight into a managerial role. Judging by how long he spends flirting instead of working, he probably doesn’t even know his Mario from his Minecraft. It wasn’t even that he was cruel, he just seemed normal with you. Which annoyed you because with all the other women, and men to be honest, he was charming. Perhaps he could sense you didn’t come from great wealth like them and so decided to be civil, lest you should visit human resources, but nothing more than that. He’d smiled at you once and you had to stop yourself from fucking giggling, such is the lack of friendliness with your boss.
And so here you are. Sat at your desk at 8:35, sifting through papers on your desk that you don’t really care about. But at least you’re here. You were in at 8:30 when everybody was supposed to be here. Obviously apart from Jeon Wonwoo, who could glide in at any time he wished, floating past adoring sighs and eyelash fluttering until he landed at his desk and spent the day flirting with whichever office beauty approached him that day. Honestly sometimes it felt like you were the only one in this office that did any work.
“____!” The sound of someone shouting your name over the music of the restaurant makes you flinch, your drink spilling slightly over your hand.
“What the fuck.” you mutter, shaking the clear liquid from your hands and turning round to scowl at whoever the idiot is that shouted at you.
Fucking great. Wonwoo.
Once he had finally arrived this morning the first thing he’d reminded you all, was that there would be a leaving party for Jiwon, one of the less annoying members of the team. She was moving with her husband to another country and so would soon be free of Shadow Gaming Inc. Lucky, lucky woman.
And so now you’re here, at a dinner/ karaoke session that you hadn’t accounted for in your monthly budget and would have to come out of the amount you gave your parents. The lecture about your selfishness was known word for word at this point. You love karaoke normally though, just last week you and Jeonghan had done a breathtaking rendition of Halo by Beyonce. It truly brought tears to Yunjin’s eyes. Although she had quickly refused when you’d both offered to take to the microphones again. But you’d budgeted for that. You had not budgeted for anything to do with Jiwon’s leaving party. Mainly because you hadn’t received the email. Everyone else seemed to know. But not you.
“Yes Boss?” you mumble as you try to dry your hands on your skirt in the most lady-like way possible.
“Minwoo says you refused to give any money towards the leaving gift? Why? You are supposed to be a part of this team and yet you persist in acting like you’re not.”
“Thats not true,” you frown, “I just didn’t know we were meant to do leaving gifts, if some had of told me!”
“____. It is highly unlikely that you didn’t know. It’s selfish. It isn’t how things are done at Shadow.”
You can’t help yourself, you see red. You didn’t know about the fucking gift until a few hours ago and of course Minwoo would be the one to tell him. She revelled in making your life harder. Everyday she drops off work at your desk with the same “Boss says this is for you.” and then saunters off into the abyss in a waft of Chanel No.5.
“How are things done then Mr Jeon? As far as I’m aware, I’m paid to arrive on time, complete my work and then leave. It isn’t in my contract that I have to buy people I don’t know leaving gifts or spend my evenings at a party I don’t want to be at. We can’t all sit around flirting with the other useless idiots in the office and then go home at whatever time you please!!”
He glares at you, dark eyes that look like they could break glass if they stared long enough. And you’re paralysed to the spot. You'd never noticed just how much authority his features hold. He looks so fucking angry and yet there's a part of you deep down, that can’t help find the whole thing erotic. There’s no way he feels it too, you’re aware of that but fuck he truly is a beautiful man and the fires of anger in his eyes at this moment in time only add to that.
“You think that’s all I do?” It isn’t a loud retort, but it’s pointed, each syllable laced with venom.
He steps closer to you, almost challenging someone so far beneath him to answer him back.
“I know it’s all you do.”
You step closer to him again. Never missing an opportunity to put someone like him in his place.
“You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes.” He’s so close to you that you feel the breath from every word and it’s taking everything in you to not look down at his lips.
“FORTUNE COOKIES. HERE LOVE BIRDS, TRY THIS.”
Whatever tension was lingering soon breaks when a small, elderly woman inserts herself between the two of you and thrusts the fortune cookies into your hands.
“No thank you.” you say, flashing the woman a small smile before you try to hand it back to her.
“Those are not good enough for you either?”
He is so fucking petty. You just want to strangle him with his overpriced silk tie.
The old lady continues to smile between the two of you as you take the fortune cookie with a sigh. You break it open and stuff either side of the cookie in your mouth, wanting this whole thing to be over sooner rather than later.
“Very graceful.” Wonwoo smirks as he delicately eats the last piece of his cookie.
You don’t care. You just want to go home.
Before you turn to leave however, the old lady stops you.
“You’re not going to read what they say? I make them special each day. Each proverb is a traditional saying passed down through the women of my family.”
She seems such a sweet old lady and it would be rude to ignore her when she goes to all the effort of making these cookies herself.
You don’t realise you both begin to read at the same time.
“From two warring worlds, love grows. Flowers bloom on the battlefield when you stop to learn and to love.”
Something in you tingles and you’re not sure if Wonwoo feels it too because his rolled up sleeves show that his perfect soft skin is covered in goose bumps.
The old lady walks off and leaves you standing in silence as someone truly ruins ‘Gangnam Style’ in the background. You shake yourself out of whatever weird feeling you just had, putting it down to too much spicy food and the anger you have towards your boss.
“Was that everything?”
Your soft voice breaks Wonwoo out of his trance.
“Y-yeah.”
“Great, see you tomorrow then.”
You don’t look back, just grab your coat and bag and make your way to the exit. You just want to curl up in bed with your book and your cat and forget this day ever happened.
The sound of Twice ringing through the room breaks Wonwoo from his slumber. He’s got nothing against Twice, in fact if he was pushed, he’d probably say that ‘Fancy’ is one of his top Karaoke songs. But this isn’t Karaoke. And it isn’t ‘Fancy’ that’s currently invading his senses. This is his bedroom so why the fuck can is hear Mina saying “Hey Boy. Look, I’m gonna make this simple for you,” for what feels like the third time this morning?
Throwing the duvet off himself he rolls over onto his back deciding this isn’t some Soju induced nightmare. What the fuck?! His ass meets a hard floor underneath as he thuds to the ground. Wonwoo doesn’t have wooden hard floors? His bedroom has a pale soft carpet running all through the room until it meets warm marble in his ensuite, thanks to the under floor heating he’d insisted on being added when his penthouse was being remodelled.
He blinks, knowing he won’t be able to take anything in until he finds his glasses but much to his surprise, he can see perfectly. He can see a room he’s never seen in his fucking life. His heart starts hammering against his rub cage as panic sets in. He isn’t the type for one-night stands, yes, he enjoys flirting, but nothing ever comes from it. So, where the fuck is he? Maybe he was drugged? Someone intending to send his father a ransom note in the hopes of making a quick fortune. Well. More fool them, his father would probably say to keep him.
But why would the person holding him hostage make sure he was in a more than comfortable bed and then play Twice repeatedly?
With a sigh he hauls himself to his feet, he feels lighter than normal? His hand reaches to run through his hair and to his surprise, it keeps going. Through hair much longer than his own. He knows he needs a haircut but it isn’t this long. His stomach lurches and he feels like he might throw up, whatever is going on, it isn’t right.
When he finally looks around and then down at his body, he stumbles back to the ground. This must be a dream, its some sort of nightmare that he’s going to wake up from.
The only other option is that his captor has performed a great many surgeries against his will. Because why would he suddenly wake up with tits? His hair is long, his nails perfectly painted and his legs? Yep, a quick swish of his fingers over the skin confirms they’re as soft as silk. Has enough time past that someone could abduct him, perform surgery and his hair grow out at this pace? Perhaps he’s been sedated for weeks. He wouldn’t know.
Twice is still ringing in his ears and he lunges for the phone on the nightstand. Help. That’s what he needs.
It isn’t his phone, the wallpaper is a cat he’s never met. It does confirm one thing. No huge amount of time has passed. It’s been less than ten hours since he got home and went to bed. His own bed. Not whatever bed he’s woken up in.
He peers around the room, it’s cosy and warm but tiny in comparison to his own. His ensuite would probably be a little bigger than this room. A wardrobe sits in the corner of the room, framed photos adorn the walls, a mixture of soft illustrations and photos of people he swears he recognises from somewhere and a vanity sits in front of the window. Overlooking nothing but other buildings that look exactly like this one. Gone are the sprawling city views of his penthouse.
He approaches the mirror, somewhat scared of what he’s about to find but before he can glance down, the phone in his hand rings. No name is shown on the caller id, simply an emoji of a knife and a skull. This cannot me good.
His thumb slowly slides across the screen to accept the call, his heart pounding faster than it ever has.
“H-hello?” he mumbles quietly, not really wanting to antagonise whoever has warranted those emojis.
“____?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?
“____?” he repeats, why would somebody be calling him your name? He leans down into the mirror and nearly drops the phone when he sees your bare face looking back at him.
How has this happened?! It must be a nightmare, he can’t be you. This can’t be your place either, he’s woken up as you in some other person’s house?! Your place would probably be more like his own, not this small pokey place he finds himself in.
A woman barking at him through the phone pulls him from his spiralling thoughts.
“S-sorry. Could you say that again?”
“DON’T GET SMART WITH ME _____. JUST GET THE MONEY SENT OVER, YOUR FATHER NEEDS HIS MEDS AND HE SHOULDN’T DO WITHOUT BECAUSE YOU’RE SELFISH.”
“Oh.” A pause, what the hell was he meant to say to that? “H-How much is it again?”
“Are you dumb? You insisted on going to that fucking ridiculous university and you can’t remember something so simple? It’s 500. Just like every month. Fuck imagine my position ____, having a daughter who is as fucking selfish as you.”
This is your mother? Jesus, he thought his dad was bad, but he would never speak to him like this. Wonwoo’s own mother was perfection personified in his opinion, she made sure his life was full of laughter and joy. When she died, he didn’t know how he’d cope and so his father made him a manager sooner than had been intended. He said that would distract him, help him move on quicker. It didn’t.
“I’ll do it now.” He replies quietly.
He expects another earful from your mother, but what she does is possibly worse. She just hangs up. Nothing. No goodbye, no thanks, no care at all.
He doesn’t know you but from what he does know, he highly doubts you’ve warranted this sort of abuse. Sure, you seemed to keep yourself to yourself and always seemed a bit closed off but that’s because you work hard and, Wonwoo thought, had too high an opinion of yourself. He’d presumed you’d come from a similar background to him but perhaps more like his father. Work was your life and so you had no time to socialise with people you deemed insignificant. Everyone else in the office fussed and fawned over Wonwoo like he held the secrets of the Holy Grail and yet you just came into work, stayed quiet and left. He’s starting to realise that at least some of his presumptions may be wrong. Because, from looking at the photos on the wall, this is very much your apartment and it is definitely not the apartment of someone from a background like him.
How was he going to pay your mother? Surely you don’t pay her in cash? How would she receive it? He sits on the end of the bed, genuinely wanting to help in this situation.
Fuck he truly is stupid, he has your face! Hopefully your mobile banking app uses face identification, and he can login and pay the terrifying woman that is your mother.
His (your) face successfully unlocks the phone, a chuckle falls from his lips when he sees that your home screen is yet another picture of the same cat from your wallpaper. It’s cute, he thinks to himself, a black fat cat with the most striking green eyes he’s ever seen. It’s sat in a basket of blankets, resting its two little front paws on its fat tummy as it sits on his bum. He makes a mental note to look for the cat once he’s hacked into your bank account, if it’s yours, he doesn’t want the chucky little furball to starve.
Wonwoo locates what he presumes is your banking app, successfully passes the biometrics and is confronted with a sight that makes his stomach fall to the floor. Did the evil woman on the phone not say 500?! How was he meant to do that when the balance that shows on your main banking page is 432?! Shit. Shitting hell. He wasn’t going to be the one who called back to say it wasn’t 500.
But she’d insinuated that it was the same amount every month, why had you left an amount that wasn’t enough to cover what you had to pay your parents?! Why did you have such a small balance anyway?! He carries that amount in his wallet, in cash, just in case he ever needs to use cash. He never does. But it’s just in case.
He clicks to see the incomings and outgoings, maybe it’s something that can be rectified. His heart cracks a little when he sees the last transaction. 70. To ‘Wangs Dumpling Emporium’. You said you hadn’t known about the leaving party or the leaving present and he’d dismissed you. He’s such a fucking idiot, the last conversation you’d had was about you being selfish for not contributing to a leaving gift for Jiwon. How could you have done? As his eyes run over your transactions, all he sees is student loan repayments, rent, bills and the occasional karaoke bar or café transaction. But even then, they’re rare. When do you have fun? When do you let loose?
Occasionally, a tiny payment is made to a savings account. Presumably that is where the small surplus would have gone when you’d paid your parents.
An idea comes to mind, he could pay in some of the cash from his wallet to cover what’s missing for your parents’ money! But that idea fades as quick as it comes, presumably he hasn’t got his wallet with him. He has woken up as you after all.
He locks your phone, not knowing how to solve the problem. If your mother appears at your door demanding the money, he’ll use some of the taekwondo skills he learnt as a child. Yes. In reality, he is totally against violence of any form towards women. But as he’s currently a woman, he’ll take the opportunity to sort your mother out.
He throws the phone on the bed, spends a good two minutes debating how to turn off the clock radio that is once again blasting ‘Yes or Yes’, in the end he decides to just give a sharp smack. And luckily, that seems to do the trick.
You don’t appear to have an ensuite, so Wonwoo makes his way to the door and is confronted with a small room that’s equally as cosy and inviting as your bedroom. Simple sofas have warm blankets thrown over them and it seems you have a real addiction to scatter cushions. As he gets closer, he spots one in the shape of a cat’s head and once again finds a chuckle leaving his mouth. He’s always been fond of cats and knowing you love them warms his heart a little. Or, he supposes, your heart, now.
A meowing draws him out of his thoughts. Wonwoo turns to find a very indignant looking black cat sat at the small dining table placed in between your open plan living room and kitchen. His faces lights up in a bright smile as he pads over towards the adorable fat cat.
“Hello, I suppose you want feeding. Where does your mom keep the cat food?”
Why is he trying to speak to a cat? And why is he referring to you as it’s mom when he currently resembles you?
Sighing, he looks round the small kitchen, thankfully landing on some pouches of cat food. He notes as he takes it off the top of the fridge that you buy the premium cat food. The fact you’d spend extra money on your cat considering the financial situation he saw on your phone makes his heart warm. A bowl next to the box of food reads “Sir Podge of Podgington” and now he does allow himself a good laugh, how fucking cute he thinks to himself as he empties the pouch into the bowl.
“I didn’t realise I was entertaining such a fine gentleman.” He muses at the cat as he places the food down on the mat that he supposes for feeding your huge kitten. “Your food sir,” he chuckles with a bow.
The cat ignores him, quite content now he’s got his breakfast.
Wonwoo sits and the table and muses how he’s got himself in this situation. Are you ok? Presumably you’re him? You surely haven’t just disappeared. He looks down and tries his best not to think too much about the fact he has your body, it would be so easy to look. But he knows he shouldn’t, his mother raised him to be a gentleman and ogling your naked form without your consent seems completely abhorrent to him.
Not that you’d know, because he’s never made it clear to you, but he’s been harbouring a crush on you since he started at the company. You were still pretty new when he arrived, and he may have asked you out but you were so focussed on your work he didn’t have the balls to. You didn’t socialise with the team outside of business hours, he put that down to a bad attitude but now he realises he’s been completely wrong. You work hard because you have to, this isn’t just some job, it’s your way of making ends meet. The others in the office, Wonwoo included, had all used family connections to get their jobs. You though, you’d had to work for it, and fucking hard by the looks of things.
Noting the time on the oven says 8:00am, he realises it’s probably time to head to the office. He stands but just as quick falls back to the chair. Eyes wide and cheeks turning rosy pink. How was he meant to get changed?! And he’s just now realising he feels like he needs to pee, how the fuck do women pee?! Do they just sit down and gravity does its work? Does he have to do anything else? He’s not sure he could cope if he (you) needed a shit. A pee is one thing, dealing with another person’s ass hole is another.
He heads back to your bedroom, deciding choosing clothes for the day is probably the least gruelling task. Or maybe not. He chooses a skirt and thin sweater he’s seen you wear a couple of times and then it dawns on him. You need underwear. His instinct is to not look in the drawer but how can he not? He needs to see what he’s choosing. He opens the drawer, that he only knows has underwear in because a pair of panties is half hanging out, yanks out a bra and the pair of panties that were hanging down and slams the door shut.
It’s only when his back hits the wardrobe does he realise he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Wonwoo takes a moment to collect himself before heading out of the bedroom and through the only other door in the apartment that isn’t the front door. Once secured in the bathroom, locking it behind him because for some reason he feels vulnerable, he stares at the toilet.
He can do this, he’s pissed before. He’s had girlfriends. Well, if he’s honest just the one girlfriend. But he’s seen a pussy before none the less. Not that he has any intention of looking at yours, it would feel like some sort of assault. Lips pursed in thought, he continues to stare at the toilet.
“Fuck it.”
He pulls the sleep shorts down and sits down so quickly he almost misses the seat. Thankfully your bladder seems so full, nature takes its course. Do women always pee for this amount of time? Or did you just drink a lot? It’s quite a pleasant feeling now he thinks about it, it’s more freeing than peeing like a man. He could get used to this. It’s nice to sit down, perhaps if he ever makes his way into his own body again, he’ll consider peeing sitting down.
He waits for a moment to see if any other feelings occur and thankfully, they don’t. Standing up he realises he doesn’t know what to do now. Do women wipe after a pee? The idea of putting his hand down there doesn’t sit right with him. He opts instead to sort of squat and shakes over the toilet before pulling the sleep shorts up again and flushing the toilet.
Teeth and face clean, hair brushed and somewhat styled. He’s ready for the dreaded task. This is fine, Wonwoo thinks to himself, he can do this. It doesn’t have to be weird.
Shorts thrown in the laundry basket, he makes quick work of the panties and skirt even with his eyes scrunched shut. Now the problem is the bra. He wouldn’t say he’s expert in taking them off, he’s never considered how to put one of the fucking things on. He doesn’t want to take your massive t-shirt off and expose your breasts, mainly because he knows deep down, he’d have to look. And so, he takes his arms out, takes the bra and decides his best option is to do the clasp where he can see it.
Clasp done, the bra currently sits near your belly button. He swivels it round so the cups are at the front and pulls it up and over your breasts, arms going through their designated straps.
This doesn’t feel right. Glancing down it doesn’t look right either. He isn’t a pervert, but he has noticed your breasts more than any woman he’s ever met. And so he knows they don’t normally look like that in your bra. Taking a moment to gather himself, he uses your t-shirt as a barrier and manoeuvres each breast so that it sits comfortably in each cup. Do women have to go through this bullshit every day of their lives?!
Now fully dressed, he takes in the sight in the mirror. Fuck. You really are pretty, he gets the sense you don’t even know how beautiful you are. He knows you don’t wear a huge amount of makeup, but you do wear some to the office. But looking at your fresh face now, he can hand on heart say you don’t need any. And he doesn’t want to cause any additional concern from your co-workers with whatever hatched job he’d make of your makeup and so he decides the world will be honoured with your bare face today.
Making a quick detour to the fridge, noting his (your) stomach rumbling as he left the bathroom, he opens it to find it’s nearly empty. Meals you’ve prepped sit in plastic containers and the only thing that he would say wasn’t basic is a singular slice of cake, covered in plastic wrap.
“DO NOT EAT UNTIL YOUR BIRTHDAY. I DON’T CARE HOW SHIT YOU FEEL. YOU’LL FEEL WORSE WITH NO BIRTHDAY CAKE. EAT AN APPLE.”
A smile threatens to break on his lips at your note to yourself but the main emotion overwhelming him is sadness. He didn’t know when your birthday was. Every other person in the office made a big song and dance of their birthdays. Extravagant cakes were brought in and gifts given. He’d always wondered why you never ate any of the cake. Again, he presumed you just felt it was beneath you. Now he’s realising it’s probably because you knew you couldn’t reciprocate the cakes your colleagues had brought in. But wouldn’t this cake be stale by now? Fuck knows how it’ll taste when you come to eat it.
He slams the fridge shut, puts your shoes on (which thankfully are flats), grabs your bag and heads for the door. Realising he’s going to have to ride the bus for the first time in years. Or probably his life. His head is a tsunami of emotions and he can’t decide if he wants to hug you or shake you for being so. So…….. Perfect? Humble? Everything everyone in that office isn’t. He just needs to find you and try to sort this bullshit out.
SUMMARY: Your roommate has been in love with you the entire time. However, there has always been a barrier between you two, how long will he endure it before finally accepting whether you were ever meant to be with him?
PAIRING: choi seungcheol x f!reader
GENRE: drama, fluff, angst, college au, oneshot
WARNINGS: mild suggestive content, strong language (not really in this fic), reader has a boyfriend (no cheating, i promise), mixed signals, hurt w comfort, mention of family death, grieving for loved ones, breakup, emotional conflict, implied indecisiveness, slow burnnnnnnnn.
WC: 11.8k
ADD TAGS❦: roommate! seungcheol, sport sc majored! seungcheol, physiotherapy student! reader, unrequited love, one-sided love, domestic fluff (as roommates), platonic relationship, open ending, boyfriend! joshua, jeonghan as moral support, hidden feelings revealed, yearning! seungcheol omg, minghao (my love poetry shifu), no comedy because im not feeling funny today, reader uses she/her pronouns.
a/n: "if you don't have the confidence that you can make them happier than i do, please give them back to me." omg seungcheol what the fahhhhhh how about my mental healthhhhhhh. i will always love you cheol, you're the real man.
Why did the universe decide to bring him to you? It’s impossible for the two of you to become one. You were already bound by a promise.
You and him.
And not him.
When he first moved into the place he was supposed to share with another tenant, he hadn’t expected it to be a woman living there. If he had known, he would have chosen somewhere else. But it couldn’t be undone, he had already paid the deposit and everything else.
He just hoped his roommate would be okay with a guy staying under the same roof.
Surprisingly, you weren’t upset at all. If anything, you welcomed him warmly and politely. He guessed you were just being nice about it, maybe you weren’t capable of saying no. He figured you were probably a pushover, just like him.
One thing he found odd about you was how quiet you were. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Like with most roommates he’d had before (except when he lived with Jeonghan), people usually didn’t talk much beyond their day, just brief “good mornings” and “how was your day?”
Still, a simple hey would’ve been nice. He thought you were just shy… or borderline rude, though not intentionally.
That was until one time. He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped securely around his waist. Water droplets dripped from his damp hair as he dried it with another towel. Then he froze on the spot.
You were in the kitchen, holding a tub of ice cream, staring at him blankly.
He stared back, equally dumbfounded that you had caught him in such a compromising state.
You snapped out of it first, quickly retreating to the couch where your show was playing on the television, knees tucked to your chest, ignoring how your ears burned red.
When he returned to the living room, fully clothed this time, you were already gone. He shut his eyes, mentally cursing at how things had probably become awkward between the two of you.
The next two days were… normal. You didn’t try to talk to him, which wasn’t unusual, but after what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy with the silence. He had imagined he’d try to be nice, maybe take the opportunity to grow closer to you, but you made it harder.
Seungcheol wasn’t the type to give up easily. He did try to make small talk, but you always avoided him, not obviously, but just enough. Every time he thought he had a chance, you slipped away, as if the universe itself refused to let him reach you.
“Men of different principles don’t work well together.”
That’s what Minghao told him about his situation. Seungcheol nearly scoffed at that, not even bothering to ask what he meant. Sure, the two of you lived together, but that didn’t mean you had to get along.
Still, he insisted. He wanted to get to know his roommate.
You both respected each other’s privacy and space. So why was it so difficult to even engage, to maybe form a friendship? Even a little interaction would’ve been nice.
“TOGETHER WITH YOU IS MY FAVOURITE PLACE TO BE.”
The first time you actually talked to him was the day you discovered his shitty cooking skills. He had to admit, he was everything but a cook. He just hoped his future lover would never see this side of him, one he never wanted to be found out.
You stood there, staring at his burnt scrambled eggs, if that’s what he liked to call them. He nearly had a heart attack because of you.
“Looking at you makes me want to strive for better things.”
Seungcheol’s brows furrowed at that as he tossed the burnt pan into the sink. “What a nice thing to say. Why don’t you read me a bedtime story too, with a warm glass of milk?”
You simply watched him as he tried to clean whatever charred mess was left behind.
“Have you eaten?” you asked, standing beside him as he grumbled, scrubbing at the pan. “Dinner, I mean.”
“Well…” he said, pausing, “I was planning to, but my dinner burned, as you can see. Guess I’m not having it.” He let out a sarcastic scoff.
“I can see that.”
He stopped mid-scrub and turned to look at you, already not in the mood to deal with anything. He was still irritated. Mostly because Jeonghan had cheated during a card game, which led to him being punished by having to get rejected by the hottest girl on campus.
“It costs nothing to be kind,” he said, frowning. “Are you trying to make my day worse?”
His eyes then landed on the box of fried chicken in your arms… then back to your innocent gaze. He immediately realized he hadn’t meant to take his frustration out on you.
“Oh, okay,” you said simply. “I was thinking maybe we could have dinner together. I accidentally ordered extra.”
Now, he felt like an asshole.
That’s how the two of you ended up having dinner together, sitting across from each other as he devoured the food like there was no tomorrow. He might’ve been terrible at cooking, but he was grateful to have you. You even offered side dishes you had stored in the fridge, which meant he didn’t have to cook much, especially since he had agreed to pay half for the groceries. A deal the two of you had made.
It was safe to say you both started talking after that.
Sometimes, he would ask if you wanted to watch a movie with him, and surprisingly, you said yes. There was always a respectable gap between you on the couch, but despite the distance, he felt… comfortable. At ease.
Other times, after coming back from the gym, he’d find a warm meal waiting for him. You’d leave a small note before heading out to your part-time job. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t touch him—more than that, it made his heart flutter.
It slowly became a routine. If you didn’t have time to wash the dishes, he would do it. It felt fair.
You once mentioned that you loved peaches during dinner. He had no idea what possessed him to buy some the next time he went grocery shopping. You had told him you rarely bought fruit because it was expensive, so you usually left it off your list.
But he restocked it anyway, just because you mentioned it once.
And you were happy.
For the first time, you smiled.
It was rare, but seeing it did something to him, something that made him want to see it again.
So he tried.
Eating together became routine. He found himself not wanting to eat alone unless you were there. Movie nights on Fridays. Grocery runs together, waiting for you to finish your shift, brushing it off like he hadn’t adjusted his gym schedule just to match yours.
He liked this domestic life with you.
Seungcheol never imagined that something so simple would become what he looked forward to the most. Maybe it was because it was you.
Seungcheol liked it better when you were there.
“EVERYWHERE I LOOK, I AM REMINDED OF YOUR LOVE.”
At some point in your life, you become aware that some people can stay in your heart, but not in your life.
Seungcheol never bothered to find out about your relationship status. He simply never considered it, maybe because your life seemed so… normal. Going to class, working part-time, and, if you were feeling productive, doing your laundry and cleaning during your free time.
It was during one of your usual dinners together. By then, the two of you had reached a stage where personal topics weren’t off-limits anymore.
“You know, I used to have a crush on you last semester,” you casually mentioned, right in the middle of eating.
Seungcheol almost choked, quickly gulping down his water. “What? I mean—what happened then?”
“What do you mean?”
He blinked, swallowing nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “Oh, you know… what about now? Do you still…?”
He let the question trail off, trying so hard not to look too eager, the warmth creeping up his neck betraying him.
You laughed. A genuine one as you tried to hold it in.
He frowned.
“I’m sorry,” you said, still smiling at his sulking expression. “I used to, okay? I figured it was just a silly crush. I thought you were cool… charming, even. Well—let’s not go that far now.”
You continued eating, while he just stared at you.
You said everything… except the answer he was hoping for.
“By the way, I don’t think I’ll cook dinner tomorrow. I’ve got plans,” you added casually, as if you hadn’t just changed the topic on purpose.
“Why?” he asked. “Got a date or something?”
You didn’t reply immediately. Then, just as casually, you said, “It’s my boyfriend. I’ll probably be back late. I hope you’re not a light sleeper.”
Seungcheol froze, he watched you continue eating like it was nothing, but something inside him cracked. So you were in a relationship this whole time.
Oh.
Oh.
The realization hit him like a truck. He had never even considered it. Maybe he was upset… or maybe just sad. He couldn’t quite tell.
It explained everything. That your hesitation, the slight distance at the beginning. You had been setting boundaries without ever saying them out loud, and yet, you still treated him with kindness.
It was stupid of him. Because somewhere along the way, he had developed a crush on you.
From the first day he moved in, he thought you were cute. Then the two of you got closer, and he found himself getting giddy over the smallest things. He thought that maybe, one day, you could become something more.
But he never considered this.
—
When he came back to the apartment that night, wasted and drunk after a party with his friends, he was mortified to find himself neatly tucked into the couch with a blanket.
Later, he received a message from Jeonghan apparently, he had run into you outside and helped carry Seungcheol all the way back.
The next time he saw Jeonghan, he was going to strangle him.
It seemed like you had taken care of him while he was a drunk mess. Painkillers and an empty mug sat on the coffee table. He buried his face into the pillow, probably one you had given him.
He didn’t know how to face you after this.
You were already in class by the time he woke up. When he saw the small note stuck on the fridge, he picked it up and read it.
“I made you some egg drop soup. Reheat it before eating. GWS! :3”
Seungcheol pressed his lips together as he reread it.
Your note.
His gaze lingered on the pot resting on the stove.
The headache was bad, but not as bad as the way he felt in class later. That’s when he started avoiding you on campus. What if he had said something he shouldn’t have the night before? He would never live it down.
Still, you found him anyway.
You approached him with a small bottle—something he assumed was for hangovers. “I figured you might not come, but you did anyway,” you said, handing it to him.
He smiled, taking it carefully. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, you know. The soup was great… sorry about that.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you chuckled. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
The only thing he was ashamed of was that you had to see him like that. He always wanted to look cool in front of you, but he failed miserably.
And that smile you gave him?
It should be illegal. Because it felt like he wasn’t allowed to receive it, not when you belonged to someone else.
Then someone called your name from afar. Both of you turned.
“Oh—I have to go. My boyfriend is calling,” you said, waving as you walked toward him.
Seungcheol watched from a distance as your boyfriend’s hand rested on your back while the two of you walked away together.
This was why he couldn’t hate you.
Even after everything, you were still kind to him. Maybe because he was just your friend, your roommate. Nothing more. It felt so natural when it was just the two of you, but now, it felt like his hopes had been crushed before he even got the chance to dream.
Someone beside him whistled, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Damn, they look good together.”
Seungcheol didn’t respond. He simply walked away toward his class, leaving Jeonghan behind confused, but aware his friend was in a bad mood.
—
The rest of the day went by as usual.
He thought the crush would fade eventually, but it didn’t.
If anything, it only grew stronger. Of course it did, you lived together. You talked, ate, and shared a life in the smallest ways. Even after everything was revealed, nothing changed on the surface. You both respected each other’s boundaries.
It wasn’t like he wanted this to happen. Sometimes, you have to forget what you feel and remember what you deserve.
But for him… it wasn’t that simple.
The more he tried to forget, the emptier he felt. Even hookups left him hollow. Coming home afterward made it worse, he couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing him like that.
He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of person. How was he supposed to move on, just like that? When you were the one making lunch—not just for yourself, but for him too.
Meals together felt like something precious. On days when one of you wasn’t there, the dining table felt… empty. Sometimes he would wait until you came home from your shift, just so he could eat with you.
If the peaches ran out, he’d restock them immediately just because they were your favorite.
When he asked about your day, you always answered. No matter how tired you were, you never forgot to cook for both of you. And when he said he had only eaten snacks, you’d quietly make something for him anyway.
It reminded him of his grandmother, how she used to dote on him. That familiar warmth… that was what got to him. There was something about this quiet, domestic life with you that felt comforting. You weren’t much of a talker, but you listened to everything he said. Every word, every ramble. He wondered what it would be like if you were the one talking nonstop.
The only time he had seen it was when you mentioned baking with your mother before casually adding that she had passed away. He felt awful, trying to cheer you up when your expression dimmed.
He guessed that’s where your love language came from. So he changed the subject, told you that you should start baking again.
And you did.
The first thing you made was a bunny-shaped bun, which you shared with him. You couldn’t stop talking about your dream of opening your own bakery, and he let you ramble on.
That was probably the second time he had ever seen you talk that much.
“I’m sorry, I talked too much, didn’t I?” you laughed, setting aside your baking gloves. “Usually Joshua’s the one who listens to me. I guess I don’t do that with others.”
“Oh,” Seungcheol said, forcing a small smile. “So he’s a listener, huh? That’s nice of him.”
He didn’t want to say anything more. Because what could he even say?
He was here, watching you bake while your boyfriend wasn’t. He wondered if Joshua even knew another man was living under the same roof as you.
But he didn’t ask. It wasn’t his place.
You had the awkward tenderness of someone who had never been loved properly and had to improvise. And somehow, despite having someone else, you still found your way into his heart, without even trying.
Words didn’t matter when it came to love. He remembered a show he used to watch as a kid, Mr. Bean. He barely spoke, but he never left Teddy behind.
That’s what you were to him. Quiet, but always present. Filling the space around him without saying much.
He used to believe that happiness came from enjoying your own company. But how was he supposed to do that now? When you were the one who had touched his heart?
Sometimes, the smallest things take up the most space in your heart. Although he never planned to fall in love, it’s because of you that he decided to fall in love.
“FATES BRINGS PEOPLE TOGETHER FROM FAR APART.”
Seungcheol is a patient man. He always has been, but with you, he becomes even more careful. More attentive and more considerate.
Almost delicate.
And yet, you don’t seem to notice at all.
At first, he didn’t mean anything by it. When he first met you, he simply found himself spending time with his roommate. Then somehow, you both started talking more about small things, then about yourselves. He really tried to break it. Tried not to get attached to you.
There was something about you he couldn’t ignore. Not just because you lived together, but because you lived together, and he found himself wanting to know if you were okay. All the time.
The only thing he really knows about you is that you had a boyfriend, and that you were a physiotherapy student, working part-time somewhere downtown near your shared apartment. He was amazed that you managed to keep it up. He knew it wasn’t easy.
And yet, your life just seemed…
Peaceful.
For someone so busy, he couldn’t help but wonder how you even met your boyfriend. Like, how did it turn into something more? People always said no one is too busy for love. They make time for it. He supposed that was true.
Until one day, he noticed something. You were staring at your shoes longer than usual. Then you brushed it off, standing up like nothing had happened, ready to leave.
It only happened once, then it happened again. And again. Eventually, you started asking him questions, like what shoe brands were good for daily wear. Which, in a way, meant you were asking him to go shopping with you.
“Huh?” he looked at you, slightly dumbfounded.
“I was asking if you can help me pick out a new pair of shoes,” you said, showing him the worn-out pair you were wearing. The once clean white had faded, no longer polished. “I figured it’s time to get a new one.
In the end, he agreed to accompany you on a quick shopping trip (not date) for the rest of the evening. He didn’t think much of it at first. Still, a part of him kept wondering if this was really okay, him being out with you like this. But you had told him it was fine. It wasn’t like you were sneaking around or anything.
You were in public. You even asked why he was being such a worrywart about the two of you being seen together. He didn’t say much in return, just stayed quiet, because there was no way you were that gullible.
When Seungcheol thought about it, if he were the boyfriend… wouldn’t you just ask him to come with you instead of your roommate? He wasn’t trying to be dramatic. He was just putting himself in the boyfriend’s shoes. Of course he’d feel a little upset if his girlfriend didn’t ask for his help.
But from what he observed, you seemed completely normal about it.
You were calm. Too calm.
He didn’t want to assume that your relationship was… you know. From what he had heard from Jeonghan, Joshua was a likable guy. The kind of gentleman everyone admired. A dream, really.
And it wasn’t like your relationship with Joshua seemed strained. If anything, you sounded happy. Content. Maybe there were things he just didn’t know. Or maybe it was none of his business.
Damn it.
Why did he care so much? It was almost like he was hoping something would go wrong.
“I don’t know which one suits me,” you said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “What do you think?”
“How about this one?” he suggested, pointing at a pair of NB530s.
You shook your head. “That one’s expensive. I’m not spending all my money on that.”
“What’s your budget, then?”
You didn’t answer right away, hesitating.
Seungcheol caught onto that and didn’t push. “It’s okay. You can try a few first. We’ll figure out the price later.”
It took less than an hour for you to finally choose. But there was something he noticed. While he was at the counter, he glanced over and saw you trying on another pair. You stood in front of the mirror, turning your foot slightly, checking how they looked. It was such a small thing, but he found it… endearing.
Then, after one last look, you sighed, almost dejected. You handed them back to the staff with a quiet thank you. You clearly liked those shoes, but you didn’t buy them. Instead, when you joined him at the counter, you paid for a simpler pair, the same comfortable sneakers you had settled on earlier.
—
You both decided to take a break afterward, stopping by a café. You sat across from each other, each with your own drink.
“I was wondering,” Seungcheol started, “is it really okay for your boyfriend… for you to hang out with me?”
You sipped your mango smoothie thoughtfully. “I don’t think he minds that much. It’s not like I go out with people often anyway.”
He blinked. “So… he’s okay with it?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I rarely hang out. He probably thinks I’m just running errands—which is technically true.” You shrugged casually.
Seungcheol didn’t want to seem nosy. He just didn’t want to end up being that guy.
A homewrecker, to be exact. “Bros before hoes,” his friends always joked. It was stupid, really.
Your eyes met him again, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I meant it when I said I don’t really hang out with people,” you added. “This is actually my first time in a while… other than with Joshua.”
Now it was his turn to blink at you. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to go out,” you explained. “It just costs money. So I usually don’t join—I try to save instead.”
“I get that.”
You smiled at him, relieved he didn’t find it strange. “That’s why Joshua doesn’t really mind if I go out… as long as it’s not all the time.” You paused, then added, “But he did ask about my roommate. When I told him you were a guy… he didn’t seem too happy about it.”
Seungcheol swallowed. He had seen that coming.
“I told him it was fine—you’re nice and respectful,” you continued softly. “He even offered for me to stay at his place. His mom bought him an apartment.”
You paused, absentmindedly twirling your straw. “It’s not that I don’t want to live with him… it’s just… complicated.”
There was it again, that familiar look he once knew. That quiet way you kept things to yourself.
“Joshua comes from a well-off family,” you said. “I don’t want to feel like I’m taking the easy way just because he’s my boyfriend. Even if I’m supposed to feel lucky he chose me.”
Seungcheol listened carefully. This was probably the most you had ever opened up to him. He just wished you’d do it more often, stop keeping everything bottled inside. It was hard to understand you when you hid so much.
“That’s why I brought you instead of him,” you added. “He would’ve insisted on paying.”
Seungcheol thought for a moment before replying, choosing his words carefully. “He’s your boyfriend,” he said. “If he wants to treat you well, you deserve that.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You wouldn’t understand. He already pays for everything whenever we go out. I can’t ask for more. It would be too much.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when you love someone.”
You didn’t reply to him, only smiled at his words. And somehow, that smile felt… distant. Maybe you wanted to agree deep inside in your heart, but reality had a way of reminding you where you stood.
Seungcheol wouldn’t understand it. Maybe one day he would.
—
Love is an illness to a woman with many goals.
There’s no exaggeration behind that. It’s not something bitter people say after a failed relationship. The moment you experience it, you understand it, and the weight of those words hits harder than you expect.
You’ve spent your whole life longing to be seen, but you’ve also come to realize that when people look too closely, they inevitably notice the ugly part too. To be in a relationship means you have to be vulnerable with your partner, it’s normal. Yet, you’ve never really been able to do that. Not until Joshua becomes your boyfriend.
It’s not that you’re incapable of being in love. Love takes so much energy, emotion and costs a lot of sacrifice to be one. You’re not sure if you’re mentally or physically ready for all that. For someone as goal-driven as you, it was easy to fall for him. Joshua made it easier for you, he never asks for things in return. Just you, unconditionally.
To Seungcheol, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love.
He saw you that Wednesday at the café where you worked part-time. He waited for you to finish after his gym session, just so the two of you could walk back to your shared apartment together.
When you finally closed up and said goodbye to your coworkers, you spotted him waiting under a lamppost.
He straightened up, offering you a small smile. “Hi. Ready to head back?”
You smiled back, nodding as you walked side by side. “You didn’t have to wait. You could’ve gone back earlier.”
He hummed, hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced up at the night sky. “I can’t do that. It’s dark, and I saw you were almost done. We live together, after all.”
Together.
For some reason, the word felt… wrong. As if it meant more than it should, because you already had someone.
“So, how was your day?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“It was okay,” he replied simply. Then, after a beat, “It’s my birthday today.”
You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. He turned back when he realized you weren’t beside him anymore.
“No way.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you. Nothing much happened—my friends celebrated earlier at some grilled place.”
Without another word, you turned and hurried back toward the café. Seungcheol blinked in confusion at your departure. A few minutes later, you came back out, holding a small box.
“Don’t tell me…” His expression softened as you smiled.
Back at the apartment, you managed to find a spare candle from the cabinet. A small cake sat between the two of you—white frosting, strawberries on top.
Seungcheol blew out the candle, while you clapped softly. “Make a wish.”
He chuckled, clasping his hands for a brief moment before opening his eyes again. “Any heartfelt speech for me?” he teased.
You thought for a second. “I just wish for your happiness,” you said softly. “That you stay healthy… and succeed in everything you do.” You gave a small smile, and that smile alone made him want to sigh.
Something about how pure you were—it got him. It was such a simple wish, but it softened him in ways he didn’t expect. He had to remind himself that you belonged to someone else, before he got ahead of himself.
Still, he appreciated you, respected you, and admired you for simply being… you.
He reached out something beside him, a paper bag and handed it to you. You tilted your head in confusion, before peeking inside. Your mouth parted slightly, to find inside were the same pair of shoes you had tried on before, the soft butter yellow and baby blue.
“I can’t accept this—it’s your birthday…” your voice softened, your gaze flickering between him and the shoes.
Seungcheol only smiled, watching the way your fingers traced over them. “Do me a favor,” he said gently. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy too. Just take them. Think of accepting it as your gift to me.”
You looked up at him, for the first time—it felt like you were really seeing him. That smile of yours grew just a little wider. And that alone was already too much for him.
Later on, you sat on the couch, trying them on. He offered to tie the laces for you, and after a brief hesitation, you ended up letting him. As he knelt in front of you, focused on tying them, you found yourself staring at the top of his head.
“I always wondered what it would feel like to have an older brother,” you said softly. “When I look at you… it feels nice having you around. Is this what it’s like?”
Seungcheol froze just for a second. Then he continued tying the laces. “Is that so?” he said lightly. “That’s nice to hear. But my brother’s pretty dull and quiet, so… it’s not that exciting.” He looked up with a small smile.
“Really? That’s disappointing,” you laughed. “I only have a younger brother and an older sister.”
“Why does it matter so much to you?” he asked, leaning back against the couch while sitting on the floor.
You hummed thoughtfully. “Nothing, really. It’s just… nice to be taken care of. You know what I mean?”
“What about your boyfriend?” he asked. “I’m sure he takes care of you.”
You laughed softly, swinging your legs. “That’s different,” you paused for a moment before continuing. “With you, it feels… more platonic. Maybe you won’t get it. It’s like a family. You’re just… there. Always caring.”
It was hard to explain. You couldn’t exactly say that the way he cared for you felt almost like something deeper – like something safe. Something steady. It was almost close like home. Joshua was affectionate, warm, everything anyone could ask for. But Seungcheol, he cared without needing to say much. Without needing to touch.
His affection was quiet and gentle. And that made it feel even more real.
You appreciated him for that.
For you, it was easy to be transparent with him, open up a little without feeling insecure about your situation. Because he felt closer like home. Somehow, without either of you realizing it, you had already become home to each other.
“A BROKEN LOTUS ROOT IS CONNECTED BY ITS STRINGS”
If you’ve ever eaten lotus root, you’ll know that when you bite into it, thin strands still cling between the pieces. Even when it breaks, it doesn’t fully separate. People are like that too. Even after a breakup, something always lingers, an invisible thread tied between hearts.
Seungcheol liked to believe that he was connected to every person in his life by an invisible string. His friends, his family…. and there’s you. It didn’t always have to be romantic. His last relationship had been… normal. Something he thought could become serious, but it ended anyway. Then again, what had he expected from someone he met through a hookup?
That was when he realized he wanted something real. After that, he stopped fooling around. And now… he wondered if this was karma. Falling for you, unrequited. Maybe this was him tasting his own medicine, if that’s what you want to call it.
He told himself that he shouldn’t get attached. But who the fuck is he kidding? He was beyond attached at this point. You were already in his head, running through his fucking veins, settling into whatever was left of his heart – whether he likes it or not.
Seungcheol thought it was already a win that you had started opening up to him. Except that he failed to notice one thing about you. You were loyal to the bone. Everything about you made it clear that your attention belonged to one person. The man you chose, and it wasn’t him.
He wasn’t angry. This was the boundary he was supposed to respect. Still, there were things he couldn’t ignore. Like the way you struggled to open a bottle cap but never asked him for help. You didn’t say anything, but your body language made it clear. You wouldn’t let him.
Or that one Thursday night, when you were having dinner together. Your phone rang, as you excused yourself mid-meal to answer your boyfriend’s call, leaving him alone at the table. Not that he minds, your boyfriend came first. Of course he did. Other times, he would catch glimpses of you on campus with him. And there, he saw it clearly—you let Joshua open the bottle cap for you. You let him do everything.
It wasn’t about the bottle cap.
It was the fact that you made it an exception. Everything about you—your attention, your care, the way you spoke about Joshua, it was all reserved for him. Exclusive and undivided, just for him. And somehow, that drove Seungcheol insane.
Because no matter how much he tried, he simply wasn’t him.
It only got worse when he realized your boyfriend probably didn’t like him. Or at least what it felt like. There was one time Joshua came over. Seungcheol hadn’t expected it. He had just gotten back from training when he saw him in the kitchen. You and Joshua went straight into your room. The door was closed but the voices didn't stay quiet. He didn’t mean to listen, but he heard enough. You were convincing your boyfriend, telling everything was fine. That staying here with Seungcheol was okay.
That’s when it hit him. You always make him feel seen, and then, just as quickly, remind him that everything you have to give belongs to someone else. Your life revolves around Joshua, and maybe that’s what hurts the most. Not that you love someone, but that you love him so completely. You always made sure your boyfriend came first, always reassured him, always chose him.
Seungcheol decides maybe it’s time to find a new place.
—
A knock on his door, as he opens it to see you wearing a soft yellow blouse, paired with baby blue jeans. For a second, he just looks at you. He had to admit that yellow looks good on you. Too good. He pushes that thought away.
“You look lovely,” he says instead. “A date, I assume?”
You nod, smiling, holding up a blue ribbon clip. “Can you help me put this on?”
Seungcheol has to quietly suck in a breath, he takes it as you turn around. You let him. That alone feels new. He’s never really touched you before—not like this. Carefully, gently, he gathers your hair. Clips it the way you asked, slow and precise. Like it matters more than it should.
You turn back around, fingers reaching up to touch it. “Does it look okay?”
“Oh, trust me,” he said softly, smiling, “you look very, very lovely.” The way your face lit up after that, it wasn’t for him. It was for the person you were about to meet.
Watching you like this feels… strange. Like a father trying to let go of something precious. Like trying to let go of something that was never yours to begin with. He knows his feelings didn’t start as romantic. He just… liked having you around. Just appreciated you. Found you endearing. Adored you, in ways he couldn’t explain. Loved you – in the same quiet way he loves his family, his dog… the things that simply mattered, something soft, something contestant, something that doesn’t need words. He hopes his actions were enough to show it, but no matter how much he wants to do more, he knows you won’t let him. Even if you never say it out loud.
—
The rest of the night, Seungcheol spent his time snacking while watching a romcom movie, one that Jeonghan had dragged him into watching every Saturday night at his place. It’s not like he had much else to do. Just a miserable single guy, knowing you were probably enjoying your date with Joshua… maybe even staying over at his place.
He didn’t want to think about it. He really didn’t.
What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of the door opening. He blinked in confusion as he glanced over only to see you rushing in, quickly heading straight to your room.
You didn’t stay over?
His eyes lingered on your door. He hadn’t caught your expression. Were you upset? Tired? Or something else happens.
The next three days passed.And maybe it was just his imagination, but… you seemed quieter. Yes, you were quiet, but not like this. He could sense it—something was wrong. He decided not to push, probably you needed space. He just didn’t know how to bring it up without you shutting down… or worse, pulling away even more.
(Not that you’d ever snap at him but still.)
Something must have happened. With someone or… with him. So he waited. Let you come to him instead.
“The lovers are finally together. All shall be well.”
That’s what Minghao had told him once, when he asked about couples fighting. Seungcheol nearly scoffed at the memory. Of course Minghao would say something like that. His previous relationship sucks, but what can do when he decides to date a shitty person? Not every relationship works like that. Not every fight is worth fixing. He should know that.
Seungcheol sat in the living room, staring at the TV. The movie was playing but his mind wasn’t there. His eyes were distant, unfocused. He didn’t even realise you had been standing beside him.
“What are you watching?”
He flinched slightly, then looked up at you. “Oh—uh… I don’t know. Some romance movie…”
Of course he wouldn’t admit he was watching it because he felt lonely, because he felt… empty.
A moment passed. Then you started to talk. “I didn’t talk with him,” your voice was quiet, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting beside him. “I wouldn’t call it a fight. It’s just… that night—I was supposed to stay over, but his mom came by. Unexpectedly.”
Seungcheol stayed silent. He was listening carefully. That explains why you came back early, but still… the look on your face that night, it meant more than that.
“His mom didn’t look pleased,” you continued. “I mean, she was nice… but…” you paused in between, “it’s just—her expression made it obvious she wasn’t expecting her son to date someone like me. She was polite, but you could still tell…”
Seungcheol turned his head slightly, looking at you. Your expression was small and quiet. It pulled at something in his chest.
“And I accidentally met with her again at my workplace,” you continued, letting out a small breath. “We had some talk and… she told me that she loved her son so much, she hoped that whatever Joshua and I had wasn't that deep and wanted Joshua and me to just… you know.” You didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to.
You buried your face into your knees. “I don’t know… it just feels like the world is against me,” you murmured. “I’m confused, Cheol.”
That look on your face. He’s seen it before, and every time—it hurts. Seungcheol wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug.
Just once. Just enough to tell you it’ll be okay, yet he didn’t. He couldn’t give you that.
“I’m sorry…” he said quietly. “Is there anything I can do? To make it feel… less heavy?”
His voice always softened when he spoke to you, gentle in a way the world never got to see. Like you’re something fragile. In the end, you didn’t need anything grand. You just stayed there, side by side. Letting the silence fill the space between you. Just... comfortable and somehow, that was enough.
For it to feel a little less heavy.
“I WANT TO BE YOUR FAVOURITE HELLO AND YOUR HARDEST GOODBYE.”
You never noticed when he started watching you more than he should. Only that his gaze always lingered a second longer than necessary. Seungcheol isn’t a fool. He knows you’re sad. The way your shoulders slump after coming back from work. That dejected look on your face like a solemn little puppy. The way you leave your phone lying around, not even bothering to bring it back to your room.
Meals are… still the same, except that you barely eat now. Just picking on your food—so quiet and distant. And he doesn’t try to start a conversation. Not when you look like that, so he just stays there. Even if it hurts. Because seeing you like this so quiet, so… unalive without saying anything about what’s going on. It tears him.
So when he sees you come home one evening, eyes glassy, tears already brimming and then slam your door shut. He freezes at the sight. That wasn’t like you at all.
He stands there for a moment. Hesitating a bit as he stared towards your door. He knows you need space—he knows that very well, but he can’t take it anymore. He hates this. Hate seeing you like this. So small, so broken and so quiet.
It wrenches his heart.
Slowly, he walks up to your door with a soft careful knock, “...hey.” his voice is low and uncertain, “...come on. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He leans slightly closer to the door, worry already written all over his face and then he hears it.
Your sobs, it was heavy, you were already holding it back so much. And it makes his chest tighten instantly. Whatever it is, he knows it’s bad. Really bad, because you’re never like this. You, who always seems so calm, so composed, so… peaceful. Seeing you like this does something to him. Like this sudden need to protect you – to fix it and to take it all away if he could.
And he stays there. Right outside your door until you let him in. He’s not leaving you, not this time.
It took almost two hours before he finally got an answer from you. So he decided to take things into his own hands. He turned the doorknob and stepped in, quietly placing a plate of sliced peaches on the drawer. Seeing your back turned to him made him sigh.
He sat at the edge of the bed, close enough. “Wanna talk about it?”
You sniffled. Your voice came out small, flat. “We broke up.”
Seungcheol went still. He wasn’t expecting that, but right now he didn’t want to think about anything else. Just focused on you.
“It started with a talk… then turned into small arguments… it’s not even about that, it’s just…” You slowly sat up, your hair falling over your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. Seungcheol quickly reached for the tissue box, gently dabbing your damp cheeks.
“Hey, hey… it’s okay. Take your time,” he murmured. “…you don’t have to say everything at once. Just… let it out.”
You looked up at him, lips trembling. He panicked a little at the sight of your crumpled expression. Quickly, he handed you a fork with a piece of peach.
“Slowly… I’m here, okay?”
You nodded, taking a small bite. “I don’t know… I just… I kind of saw it coming, but I didn’t expect it to end like this.”
You continued, and he listened. “I remember when my mom passed away… three days after the funeral, my sister and I argued. I was never the type to get angry easily, but… our relationship was never good. Even when our mom was still alive.”
You paused, chewing absentmindedly. “I got so mad at her… she didn’t do anything when Mom was sick. I was the one taking care of her the whole time.”
Seungcheol nodded slowly, his hand finding yours. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles.
“We almost got into a physical fight,” you continued softly. “We were teenagers back then… I didn’t know any better. Maybe I was just holding everything in.” You let out a breath. “Our uncles had to separate us. My sister went with my aunt… and I went with my dad.”
A faint smile touched your lips. “My dad was never really expressive… but that was the first time he comforted me like that. He asked me what was wrong, and I just… broke down. Told him everything.” You exhaled softly. “Sometimes I can still feel his hand on my head… the way he comforted me. That memory alone makes me feel so…”
Seungcheol smiled gently. “How do you feel now?”
“A little better… I guess.” you shrugged.
He nodded. “Then… can I ask what’s making your heart feel so heavy?”
You hesitated at first then looked at him. His fingers still softly tracing over your hand, grounding you. So you told him.
“When your mom dies… it leaves a big hole inside you.” You placed your palm over your chest. “I still have mine here. It’s… huge.”
Seungcheol’s expression softened. He knew grief didn’t just disappear. It stays—maybe changes shape but it will always remain there.
“The grief is still there… even after ten years,” you continued. “People say I’ve moved on… but I think we just learn how to live with it.” You breathed out slowly. “All I can do is live my life without regrets. Make new memories. I know my mom is still with me… here.”
His chest tightened. He felt himself getting emotional. Sniffing slightly. Before he could think too much, he leaned forward and pulled you into a hug. When life gets too heavy, he wishes you would always come to him. Tell him everything. The bad days and the good ones too.
His arms wrapped around you gently, one hand soothing your back, the other resting protectively at your head. And for the first time, you’d let him. You leaned into him, relaxed.
“The reason we broke up…” you murmured after a while, your voice softer now. He slowly pulled back, but stayed close. “…it’s probably me.” you sighed in between. “Even though things were… okay, he told me that he and his mom talked about us.”
You swallowed. “His mom gave us the green light. But the way she said it… she mentioned he’s a one-time kind of guy,” frowning slightly, “and I don’t know… it made me think—does that mean he’s only dating me until he finds the ‘perfect’ partner his mom actually wants?”
Seungcheol listened, every word you pour out.
“I’m like that too,” you continued. “I don’t just date anyone. If I love… I give everything.” Your brows furrowed, “but even if we worked out… I don’t think his mom would ever truly accept me.” your eyes looked down on your palms, “I don’t want to be in a relationship where I have to walk on eggshells all the time.”
There’s a pause, then you continued, “My life’s already been hard enough. My family… my dad loves me.” Your voice softened again. “I don’t even want him to know I’m struggling like this.”
Lips trembled slightly. “I’m sad because… for the first time in my life, someone chose me.” A small, broken breath left from your lips, “…but I guess it was just foolish hope.”
—
Three months passed, just like that. The new year came and went. You didn’t really have any plans during the semester break. Your part-time contract had ended, and you were still considering whether to continue working there, especially with your clinical posting coming up soon.
For now, you just let it be.
Seungcheol had offered for you to join his family’s celebration. (though, notably, he didn’t invite Jeonghan, something about his whole family gushing over him.) It’s not like anything was exciting about going back to your dad’s house anyway. You’d probably just end up bed-rotting.
“Are you sure they won’t mind me coming over?” you asked, closing the car door as you glanced at his parent’s house.
“Yeah, I already told them about you,” he replied, taking your luggage out of the trunk. “Don’t worry about that pretty little head of yours.”
You followed him inside. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted warmly by his parents. And then, his mother’s gaze landed on you. Her smile paused for a moment.
“Oh.” That was the first thing she said.
You swear you could feel a sense of deja vu there, feeling it creeping in. Instinctively, you shifted slightly behind Seungcheol, avoiding her gaze.
“You didn’t tell me your friend is a girl,” his dad mused.
Seungcheol groaned immediately, grabbing both his parents and pulling them aside. You blinked, left standing there awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers.
“Okay, I can explain,” he whispered, like it was some kind of secret mission. “She’s just… going through something. She’s had a rough time lately. So—just help me make her feel comfortable, okay?”
His mother smiled knowingly. “So… you’re sure you’re just friends?”
He buried his face in his hands. “Please don’t start.”
Before anything else could happen, another voice cut in. “Oh my, it’s Cheol!” His grandmother came padding over, immediately squishing his cheeks. Seungcheol groaned in embarrassment, clearly not thrilled about being babied in front of you.
Then she turned to you, her eyes lit up instantly. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, taking your hands in hers. “I never thought I’d see the day Cheol brings his lover home.”
Your eyes widened, her touch was warm and gentle. She cupped your face, brushing her fingers over your cheeks affectionately. You smiled without realizing it.
“Halmeoni!” Seungcheol whined, face flushed. “She’s not—okay, everyone, don’t make it weird. She’s staying with us for the week, so no weird questions.”
You remembered that he’s the youngest in his family. Which means, he’s the baby in the family, and you could totally see it. But more than that, it felt nice being here. The way they welcomed you, even in their own chaotic way. It felt warm like you were meant to be, like close to home.
The whole trip, his family welcomed you warmly. His mother prepared countless dishes, always making sure you ate enough more than enough. His family was loving, gentle in a way you weren’t used to. Especially his grandmother.
Now you understood where his clinginess came from. Cheol once mentioned that his mom had been expecting a baby girl but instead, it was him. It made sense, the way they adored him.
It felt… different. Back then, when it was just the two of you, Seungcheol carried this sort of macho charm. But here, that completely disappeared—replaced by something softer, boyish and loved.
And strangely, it made you feel that sense of deja vu again because Joshua was like that too. He’s someone important and precious to his mother.
You eventually let him go, not because you weren’t compatible but because you were too selfless. No matter how much he begged you to stay… you just didn’t have it in you. He was an only child, and the thought of his mother’s words stayed with you. You couldn’t bear the idea of taking him away for yourself. Like you were stealing something precious. When he asked if you ever loved him, you said yes. Because you did, but you loved yourself more. And you knew you deserved to be someone’s happiness. Someone’s precious person, not someone who had to hesitate.
That was it. Your story with him ended there.
You’ve always been alone independently. Everything should be fine. Just like it was before he ever came into your life.
The sound of water echoed softly. Seungcheol made his way down the small path toward the waterfall, careful with his steps. Then he saw you. Standing there alone.
“What are you doing here all by yourself?” he called out, approaching you as the cool breeze passed through. “My dad’s already grilling—I hope you don’t mind stuffing yourself again.”
You turned, smiling and that’s when you noticed it. His hair has got shorter with a clean cut. It suited him. “You look great,” you said. “Did you get it cut recently?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the undercut as he smiled shyly. “Really? I had to. I’ve been applying to be a trainer lately. After this trip… I might get posted somewhere for my practical.”
“Oh…” you trailed off. You didn’t expect that. “…you mentioned it before, I think.” there’s a pause. “How long?”
Seungcheol thought for a moment. "About five months.”
You nodded, quiet again. Your eyes drifted to him still standing there, hand lingering at the back of his neck.
“Do I really look okay with this?” he asked again, a little unsure. “Feels too short.”
“Yeah,” you said simply. “You looked handsome.”
His lips curved. “Really?”
“Very,” you added. “Very handsome and manly.”
That did it. His smile widened, the tips of his ears turning red. You didn’t notice it. He let out a quiet breath, trying to calm himself before he got too carried away. You really had no idea what you did to him.
“Alright,” he said finally, stepping down first and turning back to you. “Let’s head back.” He extended his hand for you.
You hesitated, just for a second.
He noticed it and smiled, soft, coaxing. “Come down, baby. I’m just making sure you don’t trip on the rocks.”
The nickname made you smile. Without thinking too much, you reached out and took his hand. Instead of just holding it, he lifted you. You stiffened slightly in his arms, caught off guard. It was quick and careful. And before you could react, he set you down gently.
“It’s dangerous,” he said casually. “Had to do that.” His hand came up resting on your head. The gesture alone felt soft and affectionate.
You swallowed. Something tight forming in your chest. Then you blinked, and started walking beside him not even realizing that his fingers had already slipped into yours. Interlaced, like it belonged there.
“WHEN I LOOK AT YOU, I SEE THE REST OF MY LIFE IN FRONT OF MY EYES.”
You heard a soft knock on the door before it slowly creaked open.
“Hi,” Seungcheol peeked in with a small smile, closing it gently behind him. “Sorry to bother you… were you about to sleep?”
You shook your head, shifting under the comforter as you sat up against the pillow. “No, you’re not bothering me. This is your room, after all… do you need something?”
He walked over, settling himself beside you on the bed. Close to you. His room had been your place for the whole week. It smelled like him. Felt like him too.
“How was dinner?” his hand found yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world, his fingers slipped between yours.
“It was nice,” you hummed, letting your hand rest in his. “I think I might gain some weight after this trip.”
“More of you to love, then.”
You smiled instantly. He always had a way with words. It was soft, effortless and almost close to dangerous. Everything he did made your heart flutter. Somewhere along this week, you had forgotten the heartbreak from three months ago.
“You should sleep,” you told him gently, still playing with your intertwined fingers. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long drive.”
“That’s exactly why I’m checking on you,” he replied.
You raised a brow. “Says the one who’s driving. Four hours isn’t a joke, you know.”
He chuckled, leaning just a little closer. “Call me ‘oppa’ first. Then maybe I’ll listen.”
“No way.”
You both laughed. It was light and easy. Like nothing in the world could touch this moment. And then it faded slowly. The laughter softened as well as the air suddenly shifted. He was still looking at you. He has been looking at you the whole time. You tried to hold his gaze but ended up looking away, suddenly shy. When did it become like this? Because when did he start looking at you like that? You never really thought about how you saw him. All you knew was, he was someone you grew to care for. Someone you chose to keep in your life.
“I really like having you by my side,” Seungcheol said quietly.
You looked at him again, and smiled softly. “...me too.”
You didn’t realize when it happened, when suddenly he was closer, much closer to you. You didn’t move. You just let him. Your fingers tightened slightly around his, breath hitched as his lashes brushed against yours. The tip of his nose touched yours.
So close. Too close.
Your heart was racing very loud and unsteady.
“I mean it,” he whispered. “I really, really like you… more than you think.”
Your eyes searched his. It was raw and honest, too real. He knew you were still healing. Still picking up pieces of yourself. And even if it took months or years, he was willing to wait.
You blinked. Trying to steady your thoughts, but that hesitation, it was there again. The same one he always sees in you. He wished you wouldn’t hold back. Just this once. Still, he didn’t pull away. He leaned in again—forehead resting against yours. So close it felt like a kiss was inevitable. You knew what this meant. So you chose to stay, but he didn’t close the distance. He just kinda stayed there. Letting the moment breathe, letting you decide.
“I like you too,” you said.
It wasn’t a confession.
Seungcheol pulled back slightly. Searching your face and he saw it. That look—the one he already knew too well. Not empty, just… not the answer he wanted. You liked him but not the way he loved you. That alone itself made his inside crack a little. He had seen this coming but walking away now would hurt more.
“Then kiss me.”
You froze. Then slowly, you leaned in just like before. Your noses brushed, lips hovered a breath away. He didn’t move, letting you take the lead. Just then you stopped. Lips barely grazed his, the soft, fleeting touch. It was not quite a kiss, not quite nothing.
It made his chest ache.
“I’m sorry, Cheol…” you whispered, lowering your gaze. “I don’t want to treat you like an option.” You looked back at him, eyes apologetic and honest. “I don’t want you to feel like I chose you just because I couldn’t have someone else. You deserve more than that.” Your voice softened, “…what we have now… I don’t want to lose it.”
Seungcheol gave you a faint smile, tired but gentle. Deep down he already knew that. He reached up, brushing your hair back, his hand trailing down to your cheek. The gesture was careful and affectionate.
“I know, baby. I know,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours again. “I just… needed to know.” a pause. “You’re precious to me.”
His arms wrapped around you once more, holding you close and you let him. You felt it, his warmth, his scent and his love. Maybe that was the problem, you seem to incapable of accepting his love for you.
—
That morning, you and Seungcheol had breakfast prepared by his mom and grandmother. He didn’t ignore you, but he was… quiet.
The whole ride back was the same too. At least, when it was just the two of you. You kept glancing at him. Very carefully, trying to read him. You even brought it up last night, asked if he was okay. If things were okay between you. He reassured you and said it wouldn't be awkward, and claimed everything was fine. But even if he said that, his actions told a different story. He didn’t push you away, didn’t ignore you but you could see it. The silence, the way he kept to himself like he was trying to deal with it quietly on his own. It made you feel horrible.
Just like that, your clinical posting started. Days got busier and schedule got tighter. You and Seungcheol barely saw each other now even though you lived under the same roof. Still, whenever you had the chance, you ate together. It was only a small moment but familiar.
That day, you were on your way to collect your academic records. Still in your scrubs, rushing during your break when you accidentally bumped into someone. “I’m so sorry—” you quickly crouched down, gathering the papers that had scattered across the floor.
“It’s alright, I should be the one apologizing,” the other person said, handing you your dropped pen.
You looked up and recognized him. It was Jeonghan, Seungcheol’s friend. You gave him a small smile, murmuring a quiet thank you as you took your things back. You didn’t have much time, you were already in a rush. Just as you were about to leave—
“Wait.” You turned at him. “Since you’re here,” he said, pulling something out from his jacket, it seems like a pendrive. “I was actually going to return this to him, but…” he paused, then handed it to you, “I figured you could pass it to him instead. He’s leaving soon anyway.”
You took it slowly. A slight frown forming. “…what do you mean?”
Jeonghan nodded, like he just remembered. “Oh—right. You didn’t know?”
Your stomach sank.
“He’s leaving today. For his practical,” he said casually. “And after that… he’s planning to enlist.”
Your grip tightened around the object you're holding.
“…military service,” Jeonghan continued. “Pretty long too. He chose the marine department.”
Brief silence filled the air. You didn’t know what to say because you didn't know this. At all. Seungcheol never told you.
Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction. “I thought you knew,” he said. “You two live together, don’t you?”
You forced a small smile. “I didn’t,” pausing, “…but thank you for telling me.”
And just like that, you turned and walked faster. You needed to find him.
You hated it. You hated what you were feeling right now. The same anxiousness creeping into your chest like it would tear you apart the moment you realized you had lost something precious. You rushed back to your shared apartment, but he wasn’t there. There was no trace of him, no presence. Just an almost empty room, clean, quiet and gone. Your heart dropped.
Then you remembered. The train. He once told you where he would be posted, back in his hometown. You didn’t hesitate as you ran to the train station. Panting as you arrived, eyes scanning through the crowd. You came with nothing, just your jacket, still in your medical scrubs. The cold air bit against your skin, but you couldn’t feel it. Your fingers were numb. Your chest was louder. And then you saw him—that familiar figure, standing there.
“Choi Seungcheol!”
His head snapped toward your voice. He was both surprised and confused at your call, before he could react you were already running toward him. You crashed into him, arms wrapped tight. He stiffened for a second, caught off guard.
How could he just leave like that? Without telling you? After everything, after all the love he gave you and just walked away––leave you in the dark? What were you supposed to do if he wasn’t there anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving today?” your voice broke. “Jeonghan said you’re going to enlist after this—am I really that unimportant to you?”
Damn Jeonghan.
Seungcheol blinked, startled, his hands quickly finding yours. “Baby, it’s not like that— I didn’t want to… I just…” He struggled, fingers tightening slightly around yours. “After that day… I thought it would hurt less if I left sooner. Time would pass anyway.”
Your eyes softened, but it still hurts you that he didn’t tell you that.
“Are you trying to forget me?” your voice dropped, quieter now. “…is that why you didn’t tell me? Just leave and take everything with you?” Your breath trembled. “Five months… and then military—it’s going to be more than two years, Cheol.” There’s a pause in between. “How am I supposed to live if you just leave me like that?”
Your voice broke into soft sobs. He cupped your face immediately. It was firm and gentle. “No,” he said, steady. “I love you too much for that.” He swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to leave you like this… with a broken heart.” his voice softened. “Wherever you need me, I’ll be there. As long as you’ll let me.”
The announcement echoed. His train.
Your heart tightened. Time was running out. Your fingers gripped him tighter. “Cheol…” Your voice came out fragile, barely holding together. There was so much to say, too much and not enough time. All you knew was… you wanted him.
Seungcheol smiled softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’ll still be here, remember?” He took your hand, placing it over his chest. His heartbeat was steady and warm. It only made it worse. You weren’t ready for this. Not for him to leave.
You sniffled, leaning into him as he pulled you into a hug, his hand soothing your back. Everything suddenly hit you at once. The regret, the realization and the truth.
“I love you, Cheol,” you said, voice shaking. He pulled you back, eyes searching yours. This time, it was real. “I really do… I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. Not until you were leaving.”
His expression softened, he was relieved at that. Slowly, he leaned in and this time he kissed you. It was soft and gentle. Full of everything he had been holding back. And you let him, finally. When he pulled away, your noses still brushed. Very close. However, your chest still felt heavy, because he was still leaving.
“Please come back faster,” you whispered.
Seungcheol smiled faintly, resting his forehead against yours. “I will, baby.” he gave you one last soft peck. “By the time I come back… you better be doing well, okay?”
You nodded. His hand came up again, resting on your head, those familiar, gentle pats. He kissed your temple. Then, he slipped something into your hand. A folded paper, closing your fingers around it.
“Read it when you get home,” he murmured. “I don’t want you crying alone here.”
The announcement rang again. Final call.
He exhaled, reluctant. He stepped back slowly. Your fingers clung to his for a moment longer. Not wanting to let go, but eventually they slipped apart. You watched him board the train, your vision blurred with tears. As the train began to move, he watched you too. Getting smaller… further away, all alone.
“…shit,” he muttered, resting his head against the glass. “How am I supposed to leave her like that?”
And you’ll wait. And he will too, because when he comes back he knows he’s going to hold you together more than ever before.
By the time you got back to the quiet apartment, your hands slowly unfolded the paper he had given you at the train station. You were still trying to recover from the hollow feeling in your chest after his departure.
He had written you a letter. You weren’t sure if you were strong enough to read it at that moment. But you did anyway.
My lovely ____,
I’m so sorry that you had to find out this way. I sincerely hope that all the words I failed to convey to you in person will, through this letter, finally reach your heart.
When I try to approach you, it feels like a dream that slips away. What should I do?
You, who brought so much light into my life. You, who gave me so much love without making me feel lonely. You, who live in my heart.
I always find myself missing you today, tomorrow, and all the days to come. I can’t hide my growing feelings for you anymore. You have no idea how I feel every day. Sometimes I feel sick, sometimes I cry, all because of this love. I find myself holding my breath every time I look at you, as if the world has stopped. Like the passing wind even if you don’t see me, my heart always moves toward you.
Loving you is such a painful thing. These feelings can’t be emptied. But my dear, please don’t forget this great love I’ve kept only for you. It hurts me to see how comfortable you are in the dark. I just wish you would lean on me more, tell me everything your heart has been holding for so long.
Every day, I hold onto you, yet I can’t seem to let go. Deep down, I know I’m afraid. Your eyes… they look at me as if they understand my heart. Even when I try to distance myself, the memories keep calling me back no matter where I go.
Us, who never wanted to let go. Us, who leaned on each other. I don’t want to lose that bond. But at the same time, I don’t want to live a life where you’re no longer there where you’ve found your happiness, and I’m not a part of it. And that’s the moment where my footsteps stop. This isn’t the life I wanted. I wanted to be by your side forever. Don’t go and leave all my love behind. Even if it’s a little late, maybe it’s still destiny—we will meet again someday.
I hope that one day, I can love you the way I’ve always wanted to. Forgetting you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. You are the only one for me. Wherever you are in this world, I will find my way to you.
Thank you… for giving me a love that made me feel less lonely.
Love, Cheol.
You were already breaking down, crouched in the empty, cold apartment where he no longer was. Your sobs echoed through the silence, tears falling onto the letter in your hands. You cried so hard, holding the paper close to your chest. There is nothing greater than his love for you, and you will wait with arms open. Just five months and you’ll be alright.
Love is just a word until someone comes into your life and gives it meaning.
FIN.
a/n: wow. the original ending was supposed to be a not happy one, but meh i changed my mind in the middle of it. i think i might be woozi yo. once again, thank uu for staying until the end, apples! big thanks to @ashlinxloves for witnessing my whole procrastination ride n i managed to finish it just as i expected.
Synopsis ✨ There's a strawberry thief on the loose and your husband is about to cause chaos because of it.
Genre ✨ marriage au, family au, fluff, very mild angst, smut
Warnings ✨ accusations of stealing (strawberries, it's very unserious), whiny Mingyu, sixty-nine, oral both recieving, cum eating, a lot of unserious bickering, Mingyu is a very dramatic man and I love him for that
Word Count ✨ 4.2k
a/n ✨ I didn't think I'd get this up for Mingyu's birthday because I completely forgot to do the banner and I'm not totally happy with it but anyway, here it is. I can't believe he'll be going soon, this past few days have been a rollercoaster in carat land 💔
Your parents warned you about the drama that would come with marrying an idol. And they were right. Though you expect they probably meant paparazzi, adoring fans and months spent away from you whilst he was touring.
Not whatever the hell is going on in your kitchen on a random Friday night.
On Fridays you work late and so Mingyu takes the opportunity to have a little daddy daughter date with your little girl. Picking Miju up from school and doing something, just those two. They were like two peas in a pod and both normally looked forward to it.
He'd spent much of the morning before you left for work, telling you that they were going to make cupcakes and smoothies, before settling in to watch Barbie of Swan Lake. A film that if you have to watch again, you'll end up giving your daughter a TED Talk on why your hair will never look like "princess hair" every day, like Barbie's, because you have a life and a will to live. Much to her disgust.
But the excited chattering you'd listened to all morning was long forgotten by the looks of it. Both your husband and your daughter sitting at either end of the kitchen dining table, pushing food around their plates and sending each other, what can only be described as, daggers.
If they hadn't heard you come in, you'd have tried to creep through to your bedroom. But they have heard you. And now you worry you're going to have to referre whatever the hell has gone on with them.
You creep closer, leaving your bag and trenchcoat on the sofa, as your eyes dart warily between your little (usually perfect) family.
Neither of them take their eyes off each other for long. The occasionally glance is thrown towards you but their current main occupation is trying to see who can glower the darkest.
"Has everybody had a nice day?" You say it far too joyfully for the current situation but you've always hated confrontation, and you currently feel like you've walked into a battle and not your cosy kitchen.
Nothing. Silence and a shrug of their shoulders.
This is the problem. Miju may only be six years old, but she's exactly like Mingyu in many respects. Their pouts and moods over trivial things being the main one. Normally you'd find it endearing, loving nothing more than how Mingyu pouts his soft lips when he doesn't get his own way. It never lasts long but this time, it feels like it's been going on for a while.
"Is there any dinner left for me?"
"I thought you were going out with the girls for dinner after work?" He doesn't look at you, but his fear that you haven't eaten seems to out-weigh his need to remain silent.
"I skipped it, told them I wanted to rush home to see my two favourite people," you look between them, "so that was well worth it." You mumble, more to yourself than to them.
"There's some left in the pan. Or have mine. I'm not very hungry."
"You're always hungry,"
"Well that was before I realised I've been betrayed by my own flesh and blood."
"Could I eat before......"
No. Apparently you can't. You can't even finish your sentence before Mingyu pipes up again.
"Our daughter is a thief."
Your daughter is many things. She's the prettiest little girl you've ever seen. She reads at an age two years higher than her actual one. And she can't do math for shit. But one thing she is not, is a thief.
"I hope you've got evidence for that or we're going to have a problem Kim Mingyu."
His eyes snap to yours, a look of abject betrayal on his face. But you don't care, your motherly instincts to protect her from even the most petty of accusations have kicked in.
"I am your husband, and I have been wronged!"
"Daddy is a liar."
"Miju. That isn't nice. Daddy is not a liar. Well..... Apart from when he said he was going to the gym and he actually went to watch The Avengers without me. He took Uncle Wonwoo instead."
You give him a pointed look, letting him know that you've still not forgiven him. Even eight years after the film came out.
"OUR DAUGHTER," he interupts before either you or Miju can distract him any further, "has stolen something of mine. And she's ruined our daddy daughter date!"
"I've told you a hundred times. That Barbie DVD is Miju's. If you want your own copy, you'll have to buy one."
"Not the DVD, although I think you'll find I bought it and I never actually said it was for anyone, so therefore, it is mine."
Miju narrows her eyes, Mingyu sticking his tongue out in retaliation.
Bed actually feels like a better option than dealing with whatever this is about. What could she even have stolen? You're certain if it was something important, he wouldn't be behaving like this. He'd be ignoring it until you came home then he could panic and ask you what he should do.
Whatever this is. It's ridiculous, you can tell.
"Mingyu. What is it that you don't have, that you think Miju has taken?"
"That is a f.." he stops himself from cursing, "messed up what of saying stolen _____ and you know it."
"I DIDN'T STEAL ANYTHING!"
Both of your heads whip round to Miju, neither of you ever hearing her raise her voice.
Whatever is going on. It's upsetting her more than she's showing.
"I know you're stressed baby, but please don't raise your voice, it's not a nice thing to do,"
Your heart cracks a little when she realises she's done something wrong, she hates being told off for even the smallest thing.
"Sorry," she whispers, going back to pushing rice round her bowl.
Your wide eyed look at your husband and the way he looks almost in pain at Miju's reaction is enough to pull him out of whatever melodramatic mood he was in.
"She's eaten the fancy strawberries, you know the ones that cost as much as this house? That I got for the smoothies to make them special? And I wouldn't mind, as long as she enjoyed them! But she's denying it and I won't stand for lying Miju," he turns his attention to Miju.
Fucking shit. No no no. Your stomach drops.
"The ones in the fancy wrapping?" You ask.
"Yeah," Mingyu frowns, "they wrap them individually then they don't bruise. They're like hand picked by monks or something."
"The ones that were in the refrigerator?"
"They say you shouldn't put them in there but I think they're better when they're chilled." He nods.
This isn't going to end well. But you can't let Miju take the blame.
"The ones I had with my yoghurt this morning?" You say quietly, taking a great interest in your skirt suddenly.
"MOMMY!!"
"______!!"
They say it at the same time, both of them now equally as angry as they were pouty.
"I DIDN'T KNOW!!"
"You ate all of them?!"
Now that does piss you off. You won't apologise for eating.
"It was six strawberries Miju. I won't say sorry for eating food. I didn't know they were fancy ones."
"No she didn't mean it like that honey, you know that," if you couldn't see the regret on his face for starting this, you'd be more pissed off than you are, "we just meant you ate all of them and didn't save any?"
"I was hungry, I knew I was working late and I knew I was going to tell the girls I was taking a rain check, to come home a little earlier."
He just looks at you and then turns to your daughter.
"I'm sorry Miju, I shouldn't have accused you."
"It's ok," she mumbles, glancing at you with hurt in her eyes that you hope you never see again.
You feel like utter shit, both Mingyu and Miju annoyed with you. But you didn't know! You didn't even know he was making smoothies with her until after your breakfast!
"Have you eaten your dinner baby? Let's get you to bed."
You know Mingyu doesn't mean to make it seem like they're leaving you out. He always puts her to bed on Fridays when you've worked late. But you just wish this Friday, was a little bit different.
They scuttle off to get Miju ready for bed, leaving you sitting at the dining table feeling more like a child that's just been scolded than your own daughter.
It's just as you're finishing the dishes that you hear Mingyu flop onto the sofa, a loud groan coming from the living room.
You wonder whether it's worth even talking to him or if you should just go to bed. But this whole thing is over some fucking strawberries and you both agreed the day you got married, that you'd never go to bed without resolving an argument.
Your footsteps are slow as you round the corner into the living room but you can't seem to find it in yourself to go in. And so instead you hover in the doorway like Miju does when she's accidentally broken something.
"Why are you standing over there?"
"I didn't know if you'd want to speak to me" you say softly.
You hate when you fight. But knowing he's not only pissed at you for eating the strawberries but also because he's accused Miju, only makes you feel worse. And the fact that Miju is pissed off at you makes you want to cry for hours. You thought you had years yet until she hated you. Now it's already happened.
"You could've just said you'd eaten them." He sits up from laying on the sofa, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down.
"I didn't think it was that big a deal! We're a family Gyu, I didn't think we needed to fucking label our food!"
"I'm not saying that babe but I'd bought them specially!"
"And I know that now! But I'd already eaten breakfast when you told me and there's lots of different fruit in there, I didn't know they were for smoothies!"
He doesn't say anything, just pouts a little and looks out the window. It's only when he hears you sniffle that he looks at you in horror.
"What are you crying for!" He reaches for you, pulling you into his side, "it's not that deep honey! I'm not pissed off, not really!"
"It's not that....Well it is, I hate you being mad at me. But....Miju hates me! Did you see the way she looked at me?!"
"She doesn't," he chuckles, holding you closer.
"She does! This is how it starts, by next week she'll be telling me to stay out of her life and that she wishes I wasn't her in mom!"
You sit up, looking at Mingyu's horrified face.
"You're being a little dramatic babe,"
He can't be serious.
"You've been pouting and starting arguments over strawberries, you've no business calling anybody dramatic!"
He doesn't answer, just looks at you like your eyes have all the universe's stars in them and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
"She doesn't hate you. She was sad about me accusing her and only a little bit at you for eating them. But when I reminded her that we never shame anyone for eating and that her mommy works very hard at a proper job, researching and other hot nerd shit. Not dancing and singing like me, then she said she'd apologise for shouting at you, in the morning."
He really is the perfect man when he isn't pouting and being fucking annoying. You do though hope that he didn't say "hot nerd shit" to your six year old daughter.
"So she isn't going to lock herself in her room, listen to punk rock and say that I ruined her life?"
"She isn't you,"
His cheeky smile, knowing he's shut you up with that, makes all your worries disappear.
"I suppose," you pout, trying to hide the smile threatening to break free.
"We do have some unsettled business though, I'm afraid."
"Can we not order pizza or something? I already did the dishes."
"I didn't mean food." He shakes his head like he's disappointed in you, "although I'm down for pizza. Once you've apologised properly."
"I have apologised!"
"It wasn't good enough, sadly! See I'd spent so much money on those strawberries and I was really looking forward to Barbie of Swan Lake." He sighs loudly, "It all just means you're going to have to do a bit better with your apology I'm afraid."
Oh. Oh. Now you see where this is going.
"And how would you like me to do that exactly?" You smirk, trying to kneel on the floor in front of him, though him trying to push you back onto the sofa causes you to stop in your tracks.
"Wait," you push him back, his pouty lips trying to lean forward to capture yours, "why are you making me lean back. I thought you wanted me to apologise?"
"And I do."
"So quit pushing me back and let me kneel down!"
"But I wanted to go down on you!"
"How is you doing that, me apologising?"
He just stares at you blankly.
"It's what I want as way of an apology!"
"But shouldn't I be doing something to apologise? You eat me out like four times a week, if anything you do it too much!"
"Wow!! Fucking rude!! Most women don't get head once a year!"
"You only do it because you're obsessed!!"
"And that's a bad thing?! You don't like it?!"
"Of course I do!"
"Then sit your ass back and let me have my apology!"
"But I wanted to give you head!"
"But it's my apology! I should get to choose!"
"Wow. You don't like how I do it?! Is that it?!"
His mouth hangs open in horror at you even suggesting such a thing.
"Babe. I barely last two minutes. I fucking love how you do it."
"Then sit your ass back and let me apologise!" You mimic his voice, him huffing and folding his arms that you'd mock him.
You stare at his clenched jaw. Torn between enjoying the view and wanting to eat him whole.
"You know. There's a very simple solution."
"Yeah. You lay down there and do as you're fucking told."
He's very rarely like this during sex. He's more likely to be crying and whining. But him putting you in your place makes your thighs clench a little.
You don't let it distract you though, there is a very simple solution.
"No. We both get what we want."
"I'm cool with you doing it after I've done what I want," he shrugs.
You scoff. You're not sure whether he's being willfully annoying or just having a bad day.
"I meant at the same time."
He frowns at you, though you see something twitch in his sweats none the less.
"But we haven't done that since you got cramp and smacked your head on the bed side table."
"I wouldn't have gotten cramp if someone wasn't insistent on making me cum three times!"
"You know, you complain a lot."
"And you pout like a big baby."
You stare at each other until the ridiculousness of the situation catches up with you.
"I'm down, if you are." He smirks.
"Here? What if Miju wakes up?" You glance in the direction of her bedroom, though she never wakes up in the night.
There is always the possibility that tonight would be the anomaly. That tonight she'd have a nightmare or she'd be unable to shake the disappointment of the night and want a hug.
"You were just ready to get on your knees for me,"
"True. But I don't know, it's different."
"Just take your tights off, if she comes in, I'll say we're doing yoga. You know that silly little skirt is my favourite."
This silly little skirt is his favourite.
So you don't answer him. You just stand up between his legs, pulling the tights slowly down your thighs, smiling at the way Mingyu's pupils are already blown just from watching you.
He's staring so hard he doesn't notice they're off and you're waiting.
You wait. Wait a little more. Until finally he looks up at you, eyebrows creased in confusion.
"Your pants," you say, like it's obvious.
Mingyu jumps up from his seat, pecking your lips as he goes.
"Sorry," he pulls his sweats and boxers down enough to free his semi hard cock, "you've just got such pretty thighs babe."
Even after all your years together, you'll never not blush at how free and easy he is with his compliments.
"Hurry up please." He grabs your hips and manoeuvres you towards the sofa.
"You're always so polite," you giggle, watching him lay back on the sofa, pussy already drooling at the sight of him waiting for you so excitedly.
"I won't be if you don't come here right now," you says sassily, pursing his lips.
You roll your eyes but rush over to him, throwing your knee over his face, revelling in the way he moans underneath you.
You love everything about Mingyu. But one thing you love the most, is how happily he shows you how much he loves you. Everything about you. When you had Miju, you had all the insecurities that come with pregnancy, but he never let them settle. He showed you daily how much he loved your body and since Miju, he's shown you that tenfold.
His fingers run up and down your thighs and you know he's staring at your dripping core but you couldn't care less right now. His now fully hard cock is right in front of you and you waste no time in taking him in your hand. Smirking at the whine you feel against your puffy folds.
There's a weird competitiveness that takes hold of you. You want to make him cum so hard that he forgets what he's doing. And this isn't because Mingyu is bad at eating you out, far from it, he's fucking incredible. But he is very pouty and he does get very pouty every other day when you suggest that maybe today, sex doesn't have to include his head between your thighs.
You take his tip into your mouth, wasting no time in swirling your tongue around his leaking tip, hips twitching a little when you feel his tongue licking your clit. His fingers are digging into your thighs as he tries to keep his concentration even though you're sucking his tip like your life depends on it.
Whatever competitiveness has taken over you, also seems to have taken hold of your husband too. Because he grips your hips, pulls you down onto his face and starts sucking on your clit with the same enthusiasm as you're doing his tip.
Neither of you are moaning at this point even. The only sound in the room is the sounds of tongues and drool and both of you humming at how obsessed with the taste of each other you both are.
You lean forward a little, huffing a laugh that causes you to gag a small amouny when Mingyu whines and pulls your hips back. Because how dare you move away from him, even a small amount.
But you did. And you had good reason to because your lips move up and down his thick length, tongue running along the top of it. The feel of the vein that runs along it against your tongue and how his tip hits the back of your throat every now and again making your head spin. Although that might be because of the position you suppose, you're not a teenager anymore. You won't tell Mingyu that though, he won't get the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
It's like your throat is molding to the shape of his tip from how eagerly you bob your head up and down on his throbbing cock. Even though the taste of him is one of the most familiar you know, it always makes your tummy tingle, the salty taste of him reminding you just how lucky you are to be married to Mingyu.
His tongue is always incredible, but tonight? It's like a whole new beast. It's everywhere, running between your oozing hole and your swollen clit, swirling and twirling around until he goes back to his main task, making sure your clit never forgets how his lips feel.
Your hips roll onto his face, the feeling of his lips on your clit, his fingers digging into your thighs and his velvety cock against your lips making your high come on quicker than you were expecting.
How fucking annoying. You wanted him to cum first.
You double down, head moving at a million miles an hour as your grip on his thighs almost matches the one his has on yours. His hips start to buck, his movements of fucking himself up into your mouth meeting your head coming down.
His lips are unrelenting and your mouth is the same. Both of you only having the same shared goal, to make the other cum.
He mixes up his movements, tongue quickly moving to circle your clenching hole until his tongue wanders back to your clit and instead of sucking, he flicks it again and again. Him being a rapper makes perfect sense, no normal person can move their tongue this quickly.
Your hips keep grinding down onto his face, he keeps rutting into your mouth and all you can hear is gagging, slurping and drooling. And fuck is it the most perfect sound in the world.
It turns out you were never going to win.
Because your hips twitching, body set alight when your orgasm finely hits you and Mingyu is rewarded with your cum in his mouth, is the very thing that pushes him over the edge.
Because of course it is. He's nothing if not a people pleaser and as your body shakes over him, him moaning at the taste of you, his hips get sloppy and you feel him whine underneath you. Hot salty ropes of his cum hitting the back your throat as you bob your head a little longer, making sure you've milked him for all he has.
Both of your hips slow, both of your bodies coming down together and you feel light as a feather after the most incredible orgasm he's ever given you. Well. This week. Or maybe... Since two days ago.
You move to get off him, realising now you're done, that your daughter is asleep down the hall and it would probably be pretty hard to pass this off as yoga, like Mingyu suggested.
"Oh my god, stop whining!"
You giggle when you have to wrestle yourself away from your clingy manchild.
"We could go again!"
"I think," you huff as you sit down next to him once he's sat up, tucking himself back in with a pout, "doing that was risky enough baby."
"True," he sighs, reaching over to kiss your lips quickly. "Did I hear talk of pizza?"
"Did you hear talk? You're not 92 baby." You giggle. "But yeah, how about pizza and Barbie of Swan Lake?"
He looks at you like Miju would if you told her of the same plan. Or probably more excited.
"You hate that film"
"But you love it. And I love you. And I'm sorry I ruined your daddy daughter date with Miju."
He sits and thinks for a few minutes, forehead creased and lips pursed like he's deep in thought.
"How about pizza and office gossip, I won't to know if your boss is sleeping with his secretary. And all three of us watch Barbie tomorrow?"
His smirk annoys you more than the idea of watching Barbie of Swan Lake with your daughter. It isn't that you don't like to see her happy it's just she feels the need to point out you're not like Barbie.
It's not even that you want to be. And you know she doesn't mean it in a horrible way. She just thinks your choice of high ponytail on the weekend, does not cut it with her princess standards.
"Fine," you roll your eyes, curling into his side as he gets his phone out to order the pizza. "But I'm choosing the pizza, you always get too many mushrooms."
"Fine by me baby. Shame we can't have strawberries for dessert."
His snort of laughter is long gone when you whack him with a cushion, him insisting you've broken his nose. Although he still holds you a little closer and you still snuggle further into him.
Because he might be a dramatic man. But he's your dramatic man.
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