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[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
listen to me. this is my final message to you. when you are at your lowest a fictional guy will come to you and when that happens you must start putting them in situations. this is the meaning of life.
🔮 preview. “You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
tw/cw. Mentions of porn and bdsm, unprotected sex, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, oral/pussy eating, praise, slight degradation, manhandling, fingering, overstimulation, foreplay, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, angel & demon au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So think of it kind of like the Disney movie about emotions, Inside Out, where the demon and angel view Mingyu’s world through a viewing station and speak to him through his subconscious to guide him one way or the other. Also, please note: I’m not religious, so my interpretation of angel!y/n warring with herself over temptation is simply an interpretation and a fanfic.
Prologue:
You can remember the day you first saw Mingyu as if it were only this morning. He was the sweetest child, visiting church with his family at age four. There was something so adorable about his all-white outfit, the slacks and button-up with a vest. He looked very devoted and very determined as he stood up and sang the church songs with his whole little chest.
That was the day you asked to be his guardian angel, and for a time, nothing had ever been so easy.
Mingyu is pure of heart in a way most humans can never even dream of being. Some kids have a demon on their shoulder from an early age, a pest to be dealt with and chastised by both angel and parent, but not Mingyu. It was just you and him, for many, many years, and you delighted in the fact that you had one of the best boys you’d ever met as your ward.
Many late-blooming children gain a demon when they enter high school, when they first try marijuana or alcohol against their own better judgment - it’s the work of the demon on their shoulder - but again, not Mingyu.
It wasn’t until your good boy was sixteen that things started to shift. His friends were all having their first sexual encounters, and they began to tease your perfect church baby that he was a virgin. Mingyu tried to pretend their words didn’t hurt, but you knew differently. Although you tried to push him in the direction of spending more time with other church children, Mingyu continued to hang out with these raunchy boys, as they were on his high school basketball team.
He held off valiantly from the compulsions of the deadly sins, but one cold December night, your perfect golden boy finally snapped and gave in to temptation.
The demon known as Wonwoo appeared the moment Mingyu first typed the words ‘porn hub’ into his cellphone, and in the darkness of Mingyu’s room, you met the man who would be your antihero for as long as Mingyu would continue to live.
And Wonwoo is a demon with a reputation. Whereas you like to cherry-pick your wards as the kindhearted humans who are pure of soul, Wonwoo is known for his ability to sniff out those who are easily tempted by sin. His last human was a sexual fiend, and he got addicted to OnlyFans. he lost his relationship and all of his money due to Wonwoo’s coaxing of the addiction. The man died prematurely while drunk driving, which is something of a success story for the demon who collected his soul in the end.
So why was this demon in particular here with you and Mingyu?
What had seemed like an easy task had become more difficult than you ever signed up for, and Wonwoo seemed to relish in the knowledge that he was here to contradict your every musing in Mingyu’s ear.
One:
“I hope you have your popcorn ready, angel,” Wonwoo grins, as the two of you hover in your between-worlds guardian posting. It’s kind of like an apartment, with two sides, the good and the evil, with a massive monitor to watch what Mingyu is doing at any given time. There are speakers for you both to try to persuade him into things, and your voices are what Mingyu might classify as opposing sides of his subconscious.
“Frat parties can be positive,” you insist as you settle next to Wonwoo. “Last time, he saved that girl who blacked out.”
“Yeah, the wild goose chase,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “He should have been hitting on girls and slamming jello shots, but instead, you convinced him to track down the girl’s dorm room, carry her all the way home, and make sure she was okay when she woke up hours later. He even held her hair back while she puked. Yuck.”
When Wonwoo knows he’s lost to you, he generally fucks off, goes back into his demon side of the apartment, in his demon room, or leaves altogether to complete other tasks.
Demons don’t need sleep, and technically, angels don’t either, but you’re a self-identifying lazy girl, and you prefer to have rest when Mingyu sleeps, rather than be twenty-four seven working like Wonwoo is. You wonder if his packed schedule is what makes him such a dick, but you also have seen the joy he takes in doing bad deeds, and you can only assume that when he’s not here with you in Mingyu’s head, he’s off pillaging and causing mischief elsewhere.
Wonwoo looks through Mingyu’s eyes, and he leans toward the communicator where he can send his words to your ward. “Get a drink,” Wonwoo insists. “Something fun. Something fruity. Something with way too much alcohol that’s masked with sugar.”
You sigh, also leaning forward. “We should start slow with some water.”
You can sense Mingyu’s inner turmoil as he makes his way to the kitchen, and that’s where he bumps into Hoshi and Seungkwan, both of whom are ruled by their inner demon.
“Hey buddy, want a drink?” Hoshi grins, cheeks pink, eyes clouded with booze.
“Reject him,” you say.
“Accept,” Wonwoo pushes.
“Sure, why not?” Mingyu grins, taking the cup of purple liquid. He downs it easily, and you sigh. So tonight will be a more indulgent evening, and you hate the way Wonwoo sits back with a smile.
“Score one for me, angel,” Wonwoo muses.
“The night is still young,” you huff.
Wonwoo leans forward again. “You know what goes good with alcohol? Cocaine. Or ecstasy. Something fun. Maybe molly.”
You’re flabbergasted. “Mingyu has never-”
“Now is the night to start, he’s at a frat party, with friends, and we know Vernon always has a bong on hand. Maybe weed, something chill.”
You hate him, and you spend the next two hours battling Wonwoo for dominance of Mingyu. Wonwoo wins when it comes to alcohol, but your sweet boy isn’t interested in drugs, no matter how much the demon insists it’s the perfect night to dabble.
And that’s when Mingyu first lays eyes on Kimi.
She’s a year younger than him, someone he’s heard about and seen a few times, but never talked to. She looks gorgeous, in a flowy top and jeans that hug her just right. You can sense Mingyu’s heartbeat quickening, and in his drunkenness, he’s even more susceptible to Wonwoo, who leans forward. “You should fuck her tonight, there’s never a time to be a whore like the present.”
“No sex, you like her!” you argue back. “Talk to her, get her name, look for longevity.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “A one-night stand with a girl like that? Who could think of something better?”
“Uh, maybe a relationship?” you snap.
“We don’t know anything about her!” Wonwoo yells. “And we don’t need to know.”
You lean back from where Mingyu can hear your subconscious pushings, glaring at Wonwoo. “What’s with you and rough, anonymous sex?”
“It’s the best way to have it,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening. “I think our Mingyu boy would love to try some of the things he’s seen in the porn I’ve pushed him to watch. You know, bondage, tying a girl up, all the good shit.”
“Consentually, of course.”
“With you here, it would always have to be consensual,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“You’re despicable.”
“I’m a demon.”
“Even demons have their limits.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “Not really.”
“Well, my Mingyu is a good person. He’d never stoop to your level.”
“Well, he watches the porn I want to watch.”
You click your tongue. Wonwoo convincing Mingyu to watch porn is always the worst, and it’s when you leave the viewing station. The demon can be particularly convincing when it comes to observing sex acts on Mingyu’s phone, but you know your good boy would never go further than simply watching. He’s not the type to ever act on some of the more raunchy ideas Wonwoo forces into his head.
No matter how hard Wonwoo pushes, you know your Mingyu.
And you’re thankful that by the end of the night at the frat party, Mingyu agrees with you that he’s now too drunk, and he retires to bed.
The viewing station goes dark as Mingyu drifts to sleep, and you stand up with a sigh, glaring at Wonwoo.
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to admit that you kind of like the whole bondage sex thing,” Wonwoo sighs.
“What?” you gasp.
“You always leave the room when he and I watch porn.”
“Because I’m a pure being! Because porn and sex go against what I stand for!”
“Porn and lust might be ‘anti-angel’, but sex is natural; it’s God-created. Humans are like any other animal, and they’re meant to have sex, to procreate,” Wonwoo says simply. “I know you’re loose on your whole ‘celibate until marriage’ ideals. When Mingyu lost his virginity, you were happy because it was soft. You might be an angel, but you don’t follow a strict code, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you follow the bible to the letter. I’m just curious how loose your morals really are. You might think I’m here to test Mingyu, but I’m really here to test you.”
“And who do you think you are to test me?” you glare.
Wonwoo shrugs. “Just a demon who specializes in lust, a demon who took one look at you on Mingyu’s shoulder and decided, ‘you know what, I’d fuck that angel.’”
“As if that’s a compliment.”
“It is, most angels have sticks up their asses the size of the Empire State Building. And don’t get me wrong, you have a stick up yours too, I’m just curious if you’d want something else up inside of you at the same time.”
“I can’t believe you,” you groan, hating the way your body reacts to his sinister smirk, the slight floodyness of his hair, and the regal way he stares at you.
“You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
Two:
“Hold it, you’re not going anywhere,” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your arm as you’re about to leave the room, when Mingyu pulls up pornhub with Kimi on his mind.
“I’m not sitting here with you for this; it’s weird,” you insist, pulling yourself away from him, hating the way the cold of his touch lingers on your skin.
“Boys will be boys, let the man find some release,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening.
“Boys may be boys, but you were whispering in Mingyu’s ear all day that he should have a jack off session and think about ‘that chick from the frat party.’”
Wonwoo shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard to convince him.”
You let out a deep breath.
“Watch this,” Wonwoo leans forward so Mingyu can hear him. “Look up ‘rope BDSM.’”
“Oh my gosh!” You cover your eyes with your hands as Mingyu quickly follows through with Wonwoo’s suggestion.
“There’s something so sexy about having complete control of another person,” Wonwoo insists, leaning back and staring at you with dark eyes. “Admit it, you liked controlling Mingyu before I showed up.”
“It’s not remotely the same.”
“It is, sort of.” The demon shrugs. “You like control. I know you do. Because every time you don’t get your way, you have a little fit.”
“I do not!”
“Look at you, angel, you’re practically stomping your cute little foot right now.” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, and you hate how attractive it is. “If you play your cards right, someday, I might let you have a little control over me.”
“What, like tie you up?” you scoff.
Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Does that excite you?”
“In your dreams,” you snap.
“Angel, we both know I don’t sleep. But I do imagine things, things about you…”
Your breath catches.
“I imagine what you sound like, what you taste like. I imagine the look in your eye when I have you immobilized and at my mercy. I imagine making you crack, making you finally admit that pleasure is exactly what it means in the dictionary; the feelings of delight, something you enjoy with every fiber of your being, something you’d beg for me to give you again and again.”
Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and it’s crazy to you that Wonwoo can say everything he just said with a completely straight face. He has zero shame in admitting the things he’s just admitted, and yet, you feel like the dirty one.
“I’m leaving,” you say again, more firmly this time.
“I won’t stop you; you have full control of yourself, and that’s what makes this interesting.” Wonwoo turns his attention back to the screen, where Mingyu is now in the throes of enjoying porn.
“You’re evil,” you snap.
“I’m a demon, it’s part of the job description,” Wonwoo says absentmindedly.
You fight the urge to stomp your foot, and with one last scoff of displeasure, you go back to your quarters, throwing yourself down onto your bed with a muffled scream.
Three:
It’s been a month of chaos. Wonwoo has become somehow even more dirty, and every time he whispers some sexual idea in Mingyu’s ear, his eyes are fixed on you.
You squirm when he mentions bondage, porn, rough sex, and more dirty things that are not for an angel’s ears.
And to make matters worse, you know that Wonwoo is imagining himself doing all of these dirty things to you. To be the object of sin and desire is new to you, and it brings an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of your stomach.
You grapple with yourself every night, unable to get Wonwoo’s voice out of your head.
The word ‘tantalizing’ has never had much merit for you, but now, you understand. Wonwoo oozes sex and intrigue; he makes your mind go to places it's never before visited; dark, lustful places that make your heart race and your skin tingle.
The little smirk that quirks onto his lips when he knows he’s irritated you has become burned into your mind's eye, and you can’t escape the shiny points of his canines, or the flash of black that overtakes his irises when he’s being demonic.
You can feel your resolve to stay true to your morals is slipping, and in its place is a growing need that’s threatening to overtake you, body and soul.
This is the power of a truly strong demon, and it both scares and excites you while you war with yourself.
Four:
After another long day of Wonwoo being raunchy, Mingyu finally goes to sleep. The viewer goes dark, and you stand up with a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” you muse, “but I’m thankful you didn’t push for more porn.”
“He’s on a streak, you know,” Wonwoo smirks. “But I figured I could let you off the hook for one night.”
“Let my pure boy off the hook, you mean.”
“No, I meant what I said. You’re the one who has a problem with it, not Mingyu. He’s just a hot-blooded man who’s hardly had any good sex in his life. A bit of porn can’t hurt.”
You roll your eyes. “Scientists who study the interaction between porn and erectile dysfunction would beg to differ.”
“Human scientists.” Wonwoo’s smirk widens.
“I’m not having an argument with you, I’m off the clock.”
“Off the clock,” the demon repeats with a chuckle.
“Yes, off the clock, which means I also don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
“You enjoy ‘dealing with me.’” Wonwoo insists.
You scoff loudly. “In what diluted world can you come to that conclusion?”
The demon steps closer to you. “The world where I’m a demon who can read sexual energy, and lately, it’s been wafting off your aura like smoke. And where there’s smoke, well, there’s fire.”
“I think you should get your eyes checked,” you fire at him, your arms crossing over your chest in an effort to keep that ‘sexual energy’ contained.
“You’re such a virgin that it’s almost laughable,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice lowering. “Most angels don’t have the kind of lustful energy you do, virginity and all, but every being that exists is plagued by at least one of the seven deadly sins, angels included. It seems to me that your carnal desire is sex, which isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I’ve worked with angels who are greedy, angels who have a sense of divine wrath, but pride is the main trait I’ve seen. One could argue that all three of those sins are more disgusting on an angel than that of simply wanting to be touched, to experience one’s form to the fullest.”
Your mouth feels dry, and you lick your lips, unsure of what to say.
“Don’t worry, angel, I don’t need a response, not really. But… I would never defile an angel without her wanting it, so when I ask you this next question, I’ll need at least an enthusiastic nod if not a verbal ‘yes.’”
“What do you need to ask me?” you whisper.
Wonwoo is close enough to touch you now, and he reaches for your hand, tracing his thumb against your palm. Your mind is telling you to pull away, but you can’t. His touch is cold, but there’s something so nice about it…
“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks, his words hanging in the air like a heavy smog.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to help, and you stare at the beautiful demon. Your body is screaming yes, but your mind is still plagued with trepidation.
“It’s a sin.”
“A kiss isn’t a sin, and besides, you’re off the clock, remember?” His smirk is just so beautiful, and you have to remind yourself that even though he’s a demon, Wonwoo was crafted by God’s own hands. “I think you can forgive yourself for a small misdemeanor, after all, humans are forgiven for much worse.”
“I…” Your heart is hammering in your rib cage, and never in your long life have you felt a desire like this.
“Or… I could wait,” Wonwoo sighs. “I won’t pressure you. I’m a demon, but I’m not an asshole.”
The idea of waiting even longer makes your skin tingle, and you can feel a frown of dissatisfaction appearing on your face.
“You can kiss me,” you say, and the words feel foreign on your tongue.
“Even though you hate me?” Wonwoo grins, cocking a brow.
“Even though I hate you.”
The demon lets out a laugh, dropping your hand in favour of grabbing your hips. He pulls you toward him, being shockingly gentle for a man who’s so outspoken about his taste for rough sex.
“Nobody has to know about this,” Wonwoo whispers as he leans closer. “Even angels are allowed to have dirty little secrets.”
“Then this will be our little secret,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as your hands instinctively go to his shoulder, tugging the demon even closer.
He meets your gaze as he slowly leans in, giving you all the time in the world to change your mind. But you’re in too deep now, and there’s no going back.
His lips press against yours gently, and your whole body is flooded with what you can only describe as pleasure, like a cool breeze wafting over you on an extremely hot day. You want more, and Wonwoo tugs you closer by your hips, his tongue snaking out to rub your lower lip.
Your mouth opens a little, a whimper escaping you as the kiss deepens. Wonwoo releases a low growl, and butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from the sound.
Nothing in the world has ever made you feel this way, as if you’re glowing, and all because a dark being is tantalizing you toward sin.
With a gasp, you pull away, breathing heavily.
Wonwoo holds you, not pushing for more; he gives you mental space to analyze what’s just happened, while still keeping you physically close, like a protector.
It’s such an odd notion, the idea that a demon could be any sort of protection for an angel like you.
“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I think I need to have some time alone now.”
“I understand,” Wonwoo nods, his hands slipping away from your hips. “The ball is in your court, angel. Until you decide what you want to do, this is our little secret.”
“Our little secret,” you repeat like a mantra, but the words don’t do anything to help the anxiety building inside of you. It’s as if at any moment you could be struck down for impurity, except, even when you’re alone later, no hand of God comes to smite you.
You think carefully about what Wonwoo’s said, about all living things having their sinful, carnal desires, even angels.
Maybe this is natural, maybe this is okay… maybe.
Five:
You’ve been yearning for Wonwoo in a way you’ve never yearned for anything since your creation. It’s taking every ounce of your self-restraint to keep your distance from him, and Wonwoo’s not making any of it easy.
Every dirty whisper in Mingyu’s ear, every glance at you while he talks about sex, bondage, and porn…
It has your heart racing, your skin heating, and your core throbbing in a way that used to be foreign but is now becoming all too familiar.
“Should I push for more sin tonight?” Wonwoo asks as Mingyu gets ready for bed. “Or have you had enough?”
You groan, knowing that you’re wet from the day you’ve had. “Please.”
“Please, what?” He cocks a brow.
“I’m so tired of all of this.”
“Tired of fighting your own desires, you mean,” Wonwoo corrects, seeing right through you.
You hate that your ‘sexual aura’ is visible to him, hate that no matter how hard you try to fight it, Wonwoo will always know the truth.
And the truth is: you want this demon to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. You want to get a taste of the sin he has to offer, the sin he claims other angels partake in secretly.
Why are you holding yourself back, holding yourself to a set of standards, if others in your angelic profession don’t?
“What are you thinking about?” Wonwoo asks, watching you carefully.
You release a deep breath. “Everything.”
“Sounds like a lot,” the demon chuckles.
“It is.”
“Too much for a sweet angel like you to carry on her own shoulders.”
You study his face, wondering if he’s being condescending or not.
“Being a demon is much easier. I don’t have to worry about anything,” Wonwoo continues, leaning back in his seat. “No rules, no standards, no fear. Just existence. Freedom.”
“I’m free,” you insist.
“Are you really?” Wonwoo grins. “Could have fooled me.”
“I am free! I’m an angel! I have the most freedom in the world!”
“Freedom to kiss who you want to kiss? To act on the desires that were literally built into you? Why would God have made you with the sin of lust if he did not intend for you to act on it? To torture you for your entire existence?” Wonwoo shakes his head.
“He bestowed temptation so his creations could rise above it and devote themselves to Him,” you insist. “It teaches spiritual strength and perseverance.”
“Whatever you say, little Miss Sunday School.”
You let out a deep sigh. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” Wonwoo grins.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because it makes me want you even more!” you scream. “For a reason I can not comprehend, I want you. I want you for the teasing, for the chastizing, for this disgusting ego that I would never condone on a human ward. I want it. I want all of you. And it’s killing me!”
Wonwoo stands up abruptly, and you mirror him, heart racing in your chest.
You can’t believe you’ve just admitted all of it, all of the deep dark things you’ve been thinking about for weeks.
“An ego can be sexy,” Wonwoo says finally. “Although I’d classify myself as more of a prideful being than an egotistical one.”
“Ugh!” You throw your hands up, hating that his smirk is the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen, hating that he’s right.
“Tell me you want this again,” Wonwoo urges you, stepping closer.
“I want you! You already heard me say it!” Your skin is hot with irritation, both sexual and emotional, and you can hardly think straight.
“No, tell me you want this.” Wonwoo grabs your hand, tugging you to his chest. He looks down at you, his lips almost ghosting over your own.
“I want this,” you whimper, feeling defeated and broken.
You can no longer hold yourself back, and part of you doesn’t want to.
“I’ll be gentle,” the demon promises, bringing his mouth down to your throat, where he presses soft kisses that take your breath away.
“I thought you liked it rough,” you say, releasing a chuckle that brings your anxiety down.
“I also like pleasure. I’m prideful, not a narcissist. Tonight, your pleasure will come first.”
Your skin tingles, and you swallow a lump in your throat. You can feel your fear dissipating. Part of you had imagined he’d want to try bondage with you right away, so it’s a relief that he’s going to meet you at your level, which is… well, nonexistent.
You are a free being. And tonight, you will lose your heavenly virginity of your own volition.
Wonwoo begins to suck on a spot just below your ear, and it makes you moan. You throw your arms around the demon, tugging him closer.
One of Wonwoo’s hands slips down to your bum, squeezing you through your white pants.
God, he feels so good, and you focus on the feeling, pushing aside your racing thoughts.
You draw his lips to yours, and Wonwoo groans with pleasure, tugging you so you’re flush to his body.
Kissing him is like magic, and you get lost in it easily. Your core is wet, and you can feel your panties getting sticky, which is a tantalizing thought.
“Bedroom,” Wonwoo says, breaking the kiss.
Without missing a beat, the demon reaches down and lifts you bridal style. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders and blinking up at him.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Wonwoo laughs. “As if I was about to take your virginity in a living room.”
He heads toward your side of the apartment, and he pushes the door of your bedroom open.
Your room is all creams and minimalism, a true safe space, and he pauses to look at it for a moment. He’s never been in your room, nor you in his.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Nothing, it’s just… very different from my side of the space.”
“No whips and chains hanging on the walls?” you tease.
“How about no black onyx floors or dark colours.”
“Well, I am an angel,” you point out as he gently sets you on the bed.
“Yes, baby, the best angel I’ve ever met.”
“Really?”
“Without a doubt. The most angelic.” Wonwoo climbs on top of you, and your legs spread instinctively as the demon looks down at you. “I’ve never met an angel who has never sinned. It’s endearing.”
“Will you still find me endearing after tonight?” you ask.
“I’ll find you endearing forever,” Wonwoo promises.
“Who knew such sweet words could come from a demon.”
Wonwoo laughs. “If anyone deserves sweet words from me, it’s you.”
“You’re just saying that to get me in bed.”
“We’re already in bed.”
“Good point.” You grab the nape of his neck, tugging his lips down to yours.
This verbal foreplay has become trite, and you’re ready for more, ready for all Wonwoo is about to give you.
For the first time, you taste desperation on his lips, and it excites you. He grinds gently down against you, and it’s the first time there’s been pressure on your core. Tingles of pleasure run through you as you tighten your legs around his hips, willing him to push harder.
Wonwoo groans, following through with your silent plea. He ruts hard as you kiss each other, stimulating your clit through your clothing.
One of his hands reaches up and grabs your breast through your white sweater, massaging you and making you gasp.
“Such pretty sounds,” Wonwoo whispers, biting your earlobe gently. “Can’t wait to hear you screaming my name.”
“Wonwoo,” you whimper, wiggling beneath him, eager for more.
He sits up, and with one tug, Wonwoo removes your sweater, leaving you in a cream bra.
“All white everything, huh?” he laughs.
“I’m an angel.”
“So you keep reminding me. You always wear such loose, modest clothing, but I imagined you’d be gorgeous under all these layers.” He licks his lips, his thumb teasing the lace of your bra. “Should I go slow?”
“Go medium,” you tell him.
Wonwoo lets out another chuckle. “That wasn’t one of the options.”
“Make it one of the options.”
He shakes his head at you, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
You thread your fingers through his raven black hair, mewling as he massages you through your bra. Your nipples are aching already, and there’s a sense of great relief when he finally takes your bra off.
“So pretty,” Wonwoo muses, kissing down from your throat to your breasts, where he captures one of your nipples in his mouth.
You whimper desperately, your entire body on fire with the pleasure.
“And so sensitive too,” the demon groans, gently dragging his teeth over your sensitive bud.
“Please,” you gasp.
“Please, what?” he looks up at you.
You let out a shuddery breath. “More.”
“Your wish is my command, angel,” Wonwoo teases, his hand gliding down your body. Deft fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, but he stays over your panties as he makes contact with your clit.
You writhe against the bedding, eyes clenched shut as foreign ecstasy washes over you.
He continues to suck on your nipple as he toys with your pussy.
“Soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo tuts. “My dirty girl.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you’re shocked that you like the way his words feel. It’s a sinful kind of praise, and it makes you dizzy as you watch him, anticipating what he’ll do next.
Wonwoo takes his time as he licks and sucks your nipples, playing with your pussy through drenched fabric.
It’s a relief when he finally tugs your pants down, leaving you in only panties.
Then, Wonwoo sits up, tugging his shirt off with one motion.
Your jaw drops at the view of his bare torso. He’s lean but muscled, and you wish you could trace the lines on his skin, but Wonwoo made it clear that tonight is about you.
“I’m going to eat you out now,” Wonwoo explains, as he sinks to the floor. “Bet you taste like nectar and sunshine.”
Talking about your ‘taste’ makes you shy, and you close your thighs, only for him to gently pry them open.
“Don’t be bashful, baby,” Wonwoo coos, pressing kisses to your skin.
“What if I don’t taste like nectar and sunshine?” you ask.
“I can already smell it on you,” Wonwoo promises, an attempt to be assuring, but now you’re talking about smell, and it makes you even more anxious. “You know what, let’s leave taste and smell out of this for now, okay?”
“Yes, please,” you nod, biting your bottom lip.
Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs.
The cool air of the room on your wet core makes you groan, back arching a little as you writhe against the bed.
Cold hands grab your thighs, confidently spreading you open.
“Just breathe,” Wonwoo reminds you as he leans forward and licks the entirety of your core lewdly.
“Shit!” you gasp, thighs quaking.
The demon chuckles. “That’s the first time you’ve ever swore.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, and he shakes his head at you, returning to his task.
Soon, you’re moaning through your fingers, and your other hand reaches down to grab at his hair, keeping his face buried between your thighs.
He eats you out like a starved man, ravaging your pussy with licks and sucks that have your head spinning in the best possible way.
And then Wonwoo begins to growl, and you’ve never heard anything so erotic.
Your own gasps and whimpers are filling the room, and you can feel something getting tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.
“Wonwoo,” you pant. “I think… I think I’m going to cum!”
He releases a groan, and the vibration of it on your clit makes your legs shake. All of your muscles are tense, waiting for that final push-
Then you look down, and your eyes lock with his. His pupils are blown, and he looks absolutely demonic, but there’s something so incredibly sexy about this powerful demon worshiping you with his mouth on your core-
You cum like an electric shock, your entire body jolting, muscles releasing only to clench again as the waves surge through you.
You scream, grabbing at the bed sheets like an anchor as your orgasm overtakes you.
Wonwoo is unrelenting on your core, groaning and eating you messily, and it only makes the whole situation more erotic.
You’ve been to Heaven, but nothing has ever felt like this.
“Wonwoo!” you scream when the pleasure begins to feel like it’s too much, like you can’t contain or sustain this type of ecstasy anymore.
The demon pulls away immediately, looking up at you.
“Angel,” he breathes, “you’re glowing.”
“What?”
“You’re glowing,” he repeats. Wonwoo grabs your hand from the bed, lifting it so you can see that your skin is literally aglow.
“Is this normal?” you gasp in panic.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“And you fuck a lot of angels?” you snap.
“Not really,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I find most of you to be too high-strung.”
“I’m high-strung.”
“But it’s endearing on you.” His thumb gently rubs your glit, and you jolt, releasing a gasp. “Glowing can’t be harmful.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure it’s just pent-up energy,” he muses. “Should I give you more?”
You take all of one second to consider his words before nodding. “More.”
Wonwoo nuzzles against your inner thigh with a laugh, and then he teases a digit between your pussy lips, gently sinking it into you.
You groan, your inner walls having never been touched before.
“So warm,” Wonwoo breathes. “So tight.”
He gently finger fucks you, teasing your hole open, and he brings his mouth to your clit again.
His pace is slow, and you know he’s letting you acclimate to the stimulus.
You can feel yourself dripping on his digit, and the slick is making it all too easy for him to work you open. Soon, he adds another finger, and you groan desperately, loving the slight stretch.
“Gonna make you cum on my fingers before I give you the real thing,” Wonwoo explains.
“Okay,” you whimper.
He returns to sucking on your clit, but he’s not being as gentle as he was before.
You can feel that tension building again, and with each slick sound of his fingers fucking into you, you know you’re getting closer to the edge.
Whimpers escape your lips, and you gasp when he crooks his fingers, hitting a spot that has your whole body coming alight with pleasure.
You’ve heard Wonwoo talk about the ‘g-spot’ before, and you’re pretty sure he just found yours.
Your toes are curling, muscles getting incredibly tight as his pace quickens.
“I’m close!” you cry out, grabbing the bed sheets again, your heart racing in your chest.
Wonwoo groans a sound of affirmation, and again, his noise of pleasure is what sends you over the edge.
Just like the first time, he works you through your orgasm, unrelenting, while the pleasure courses through you. You’re a throbbing, whimpering mess by the time Wonwoo pulls away, and you watch with shy delight as he licks his fingers clean, moaning at your taste.
“How did that one feel, angel?” he asks.
“So good,” you whimper.
Wonwoo stands up, looking down at your nude form.
“Ready for the real deal?”
“I’m scared,” you admit, seeing the outline of his cock through his pants.
“That’s natural,” Wonwoo breathes, undoing his belt. “And if you still want to change your mind…”
“No.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Let’s do this.”
Wonwoo pulls his pants down, and suddenly, his cock is slapping up against his stomach.
Your jaw drops at the sight of him. He’s long… well, you’re pretty sure he’s long, not that you have much to compare it to.
“That’s going to fit inside of me?” you ask.
“Angel, your pussy is wetter than a slip and slide, it won’t be a problem,” Wonwoo laughs.
“Just… go slow.”
“Not medium?” he teases.
“Wonwoo…” you groan.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, now fully nude as he climbs on top of you. “Don’t worry.”
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pouring all of your attention into the meeting of your mouths.
Wonwoo slowly begins to rut, teasing his cock through your wet pussy lips and bumping your clit. The grinding feels phenomenal, and soon you’re a moaning mess beneath him, your core aching to be filled.
As if he can read you, the demon reaches for the base of his cock, lining the tip up with your wet hole. His mouth moves to your throat, giving you space to speak if you need him to pause or slow down, but as his tip slips inside of you, you realize there will be no need for breaks.
Sure, the stretch is new, but it’s not bad.
In fact, your pussy is trying to swallow him up, and with each inch after inch, you feel more and more complete.
Wonwoo truly is your opposite, the yin to your yang, and it feels phenomenal to finally be connected like this.
“You okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can see his muscles feathering, as if it’s taking every ounce of self-control for him not to let loose and fuck you stupid.
“Feels good,” you groan, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him further into you.
Wonwoo moans deeply, and a moment later, he’s fully sheathed in your wet core.
You both release sounds of pleasure together, and your lips meet in a fiery kiss.
You love tangling your fingers in his hair, and it makes him kiss you harder. He’s still fully inside of you, unmoving as your walls adjust, but soon, your own hips are rocking, and he takes the cue to begin to thrust.
The first movement is shallow and slow, and you revel in the drag of his cock against your inner walls.
You cry out, throwing your head back, and Wonwoo latches onto your throat, sucking and nibbling.
Your pebbled nipples press against his chest, and each movement toys with them.
You can feel Wonwoo everywhere. He’s completely commanding every one of your senses, and not a single thought is going through your mind except for one word: more.
His pace is increasing, and you get the sense that he’s reacting to your sounds, figuring you out based on your whimpering and whining.
You pull Wonwoo away from your throat by his hair, and you open your eyes, looking up at him.
God, he truly is the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.
He’s truly a vision, lust-blown pupils and all, his hair a mess from where you’re tugging on it.
You breathe in each other, lips almost meeting but just separate, and the teasing makes everything more seductive.
Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you onto your side. He moves behind you, a cold big spoon as he enters you again. His breath is hot on your shoulders, and he takes the opportunity to gently bite your neck, making you gasp. You reach behind yourself, grabbing his hair again, which earns you a groan of pleasure.
His hand is on your hip, and he fucks into you desperately, adjusting your body ever so slightly, opening your leg a little so he can hit deeper.
“Wonwoo!” you whimper when his hand slips from your hips to your core, his fingers teasing your clit.
“That’s it, scream my name,” he grins, biting your earlobe and making you shiver.
“Wonwoo!” you say it louder this time, unable to contain yourself as he works you closer and closer to the edge again.
“Gonna cum on my cock, huh, angel?” he chuckles.
“Yes, I’m so close,” you whimper, pussy tightening around him.
“Not yet.” Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, and you whine, only for him to adjust you.
Now you’re sitting on top of him, with Wonwoo propped against the headboard.
“Why am I on top?” you ask, confused.
“Oh angel,” he licks your nipple, “just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re the one who is in control.”
His hands are on your hips again, and he lifts you slightly, allowing him to plow up into you.
You cry out from how deep his cock is hitting you, from the way he’s using you like a ragdoll.
You throw your head back, and his mouth latches onto your nipple. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he fucks you stupid.
Each smack down of your core on his cock has pressure on your clit, and you can feel that orgasm bubbling again.
You feel drunk, or, what you think being drunk would feel like. It’s a pleasurable dizziness, a mind numbing euphoria and a tingling that flutters through your entire body.
Wonwoo growls, and you know it’s a sound of affirmation, a sound to push you toward the edge.
A few more rough thrusts have you tumbling into ecstasy, your entire core clamping down on Wonwoo’s cock. Your head falls forward, your lips making contact with the crown of Wonwoo’s head as he also groans. He pulls off of your nipple, panting desperately as he holds you down, his cock burried in your throbbing pussy.
You know he’s cumming too, and feel his muscles twitching, his shoulders tight with tension.
And his sounds… nothing in Heaven or on Earth sounds the way Wonwoo does when he’s wrapped in pleasure.
Your entire body sings with delight as the two of you hold onto each other, jolting with the aftershocks of your extreme highs.
The two of you hold each other, breathing in one another.
Wonwoo leans his face against your breasts, and you cradle him.
You’ve never felt this close to anyone.
For a moment you can forget that he’s a demon and you’re an angel.
None of that matters right now.
Finally, Wonwoo pulls away with a sigh. “This changes things.”
“It does,” you agree.
“We’re bound together for as long as Mingyu lives, so… you better not decide you hate me tomorrow.”
You laugh. “You irritate me, but I don’t hate you.”
“I’m not going to stop telling Mingyu to pursue his sexual desires.”
“I never expected you to,” you admit with a sigh.
“And you’re… okay with it now?”
“As long as it’s consensual, fine, he can be as dirty as he wants to be.”
Wonwoo laughs, cuddling close to your chest again. “See, in this day and age, some sins like premarital sex are outdated.”
“We could debate that,” you laugh, running your hands through his hair.
“I think I would like that.”
“I feel like it would be a case of unstoppable force meets immovable object.”
Wonwoo chuckles, and you love how beautiful he is when he smiles. “Sounds like us.”
“But we can’t let our sexual escapades get in the way of doing our job for Mingyu,” you declare.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from your work,” Wonwoo groans. “You’d probably bite my cock off if I tried.”
“Consider yourself warned.”
“Consider yourself worshipped.”
“Huh?” you blink down at him.
“You’re still glowing, angel.” Wonwoo plays with a piece of your hair. “It’s been a long time since a demon like me has had anything to look up to.”
“You look up to me?”
“In some ways, but don’t make this more of an embarrassment than it already is.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “You’ve reformed me… slightly.”
“Don’t tell me it’s the power of good pussy.”
“Great pussy,” Wonwoo corrects. “And no. If I’m being honest, I think you’ve been changing me for the better for a while, bit by bit.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Wonwoo smiles. “And I’m just happy.”
“I can live with that.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this one was fun, it was a little late to be posted because my puppy has a tooth infection and it's been a hell of a week. reminder! Patreon charges on the FIRST of every month, so if you're going to get my Patreon, just be aware of that, or wait until June 2nd :)
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🔮 preview. Your core tingles as you test the bindings on your wrists. There is truly so much he can teach you about the darker side of sex, the pain that turns into pleasure, the freedom of being completely immobilized and at the mercy of someone you trust to take care of you.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, bdsm themes, wrist bondage, pleasure dom!Wonwoo, oral/pussy eating, wonwoo has powers in this… including a long demon tongue, overstimulation, finger fucking, body/breast worship, squirting, dacryphilia (arousal from tears/crying), dirty talk, praise, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 140
🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
To your shock, Wonwoo isn’t pushy with you the way he’s pushy with Mingyu. He hasn’t said a word about the soft sex the two of you have continued to have for months now, and he hasn’t made you feel lesser than him for being vanilla either.
Wonwoo treats you very differently than he treats Mingyu, but you know that every time Wonwoo brings up rough sex in Mingyu’s ear, it’s because Wonwoo himself has an interest in it.
The demon has talked about being a sexual pleaser, and your need to please him has grown too. Can you really hold Wonwoo and yourself back from reaching another level by dabbling with the BDSM themes he’s so fond of?
Can you… condemn him to vanilla sex for as long as the two of you are connected through Mingyu?
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🎥 banner in collab w @cherrytigercreations / buy prints here
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre: smut, fluff, lots of angst, friends to lovers
summary: after one impulsive hookup in college, you and your best friend, wonwoo, decide to stay just that — friends. years later, you’re both still pretending that’s enough. and because neither of you is brave enough to risk ruining what you have, you choose the most logical solution possible: you start setting him up on dates with other women.
warnings: major slowburn / smut at the end, oral (f!recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, praise, wonwoo service top 4ever<3, miscommunication, fixer!reader, reader and wonwoo are major idiots in love, mutual pining (over almost a decade). nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).
word count: 33.2k
note: first thing I wanna state — I’m so incredibly sorry for how long this took! if you saw some of my posts over the last few months, you know how I just kept getting sick and that really deterred writing this, BUT I FINISHED IT 🙌 second thing — I need you guys to prepare in advance to either get incredibly annoyed by the reader or relate to her a little more than you’d like to admit LOL it might hurt but I promise the payoff is worth it !! at the end of the day, I really like writing real stories that could happen to anyone. no matter what age you are, there might be a moment where you’re a little messy or you avoid your feelings for your best friend for years! lol I hope this makes you feel things and maybe even cry a lil. I won’t tell 😇 enjoy friends! (taglist posted at the bottom.)
also a huge thank you to @cherrytigercreations for collabing with me on the banner! we have been friends for so long and I’m so excited we finally found an opportunity to create something. please check out her shop here! 💓
in rotation: blame me, monsta x / move me, charli xcx / another life, sza / our day will come, amy winehouse / daylight, taylor swift / it's always you, chet baker / soft, lany / like the movies, laufey
I.
I looked at him, and I thought, “If I was very brave or very honest, I would tell him.” I would say it, so he would know it and I would know it, and I could never take it back. But I wasn’t that brave or honest, so all I did was look at him. And I think he knew anyway. –JENNY HAN
April 22, 2017
You always woke up before your alarm, but something was different this time. Your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the pile of clothes strewn underneath the bed. The dorm walls were bare and that ugly yellow color, instead of being covered in your favorite movie posters. A fan was whirring in the corner of the room. The TV was still on, projecting the title screen of the game you and Wonwoo had been playing last night.
That was when you realized this wasn’t your room. This was Wonwoo’s.
And all your clothes weren’t on.
Creeping your hand up from the sheets, you turned the alarm off on your defective Android that your dad bought you for the cheapest price possible. Sometimes the alarm didn’t work, but you didn’t want to chance it this morning. You carefully moved off the mattress, almost falling when you noticed that this twin sized bed was higher up than the one in your dorm, and began to put on your discarded clothes.
The frame creaked.
Your body froze, unsure what to do, before you continued to step into your leggings and turned around.
Wonwoo was sitting up, the bedsheets falling carelessly down and exposing his bare torso. His was skinnier than you assumed. The oversized shirts he wore concealed his lanky form, but it was intentional. His hair was sticking up in every other direction as he put on his glasses, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight. His frames were broken on one side, the arm being held together with shitty tape.
When he finally noticed you standing and putting your legs into the tight spandex of your leggings, he remembered everything that happened the night before. You asking to come over past visiting hours. The video game. The kiss. Needing relaxation before a grueling set of final exams next week. “Maybe we should try,” you had said. “Just once,” he had agreed. And now, there was a used condom in his trash can and he was trying not to gawk at it.
You were both just sophomores in college, but you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. Especially when it meant crossing the lines of friendship.
Tugging on your shoes, you said, “Maybe I should –”
“Coffee?” He suggested, voice rough from sleep. It affected you, somewhat, and you realized how much you liked him like this: unpolished and disheveled. “Avalon dining hall has free coffee and pastries on Saturday mornings.”
You nodded, all awkward. “Sure.”
Following slightly behind him, you walked to the dining hall, trying not to make eye contact with any classmate that passed by. You wondered if they could see it written all over your face: not exactly shame, but something deeper. Maybe self-consciousness, like you’d been caught in the act. Wonwoo was wearing the same t-shirt from the day you met in class – the one with a small hole on the sleeve, a faded graphic of Godzilla on the front – as the morning sun beat down on you two, promising a hot summer ahead.
You picked out a table in the dining hall as Wonwoo went up to get your coffees. He put them in paper cups rather than mugs. Avalon food was good, but the dishware tended to be sticky, even when they cleaned it. He found you at the small table in the corner, somehow holding two coffees while balancing a plastic plate of chocolate croissants on top of one. You accepted your coffee with a tense smile, immediately taking a sip and forgetting how hot it would be. Wincing, you pulled apart one of the croissants, hand pulling back quickly when your fingers almost touched his.
You two had been friends since freshman year, and you had never shied away from him like this. But after last night … it was like his fingertip had the ability to electrocute.
Silence echoed. The dining hall was only partially filled – it was the weekend, after all – and you had said hi to your friend, Seungkwan, when he passed. Neither of you were looking at each other, eyes focused on something else. For Wonwoo, it was the bee buzzing just outside the window next to your table.
You cleared your throat as you traced the rim of your coffee cup. “Well, I guess this awkwardness proves that we’d be terrible at casual.”
Finally, he relented. Your playful comment making a snort escape from his lips. You couldn’t help but smile, still staring at your cup. “Yeah. Imagine what it would be like if we actually tried,” he quipped.
Your eyes lifted to his, stunned for a moment. Just a moment. Because you couldn’t dwell on what “actually tried” meant. Dating? Wanting? Choosing each other on purpose? You were both just shy of 21. You couldn’t possibly know what you wanted.
But then the night was coming back in flashes. You remembered the way he kissed you slow at first, before deepening it and how you couldn’t hold back the moan when his tongue explored your mouth. He had taken his glasses off, making sure to cautiously place them on his bedside table, or else they would break again, and he was so … handsome. Well, of course, Wonwoo was handsome. You weren’t blind. But it was different up close, without his glasses. When he was staring at you not just like a friend, but as something more. Like you were everything he had ever dreamed of. It was just you and him breathing heavily against each other’s mouths while taking in your appearances, and then going in for the kiss again. Last night had been his first time going down on a girl, but it had been the best experience of your life. Granted, you only had one person go down on you before him. His talent was truly unmatched though. And the way it felt when he finally pushed into you –
Only a second passed. It had felt like hours.
You laughed too fast, shaking your head. “We’d have ruined everything.”
Wonwoo paused, a mere breath. “Or –”
You watched him. Even your finger on the rim of your cup hesitated, as if your entire world depended on the next words that came out of his mouth.
He closed his mouth, smiling, and then shrugged. “Yeah,” he agreed, “ruined everything.”
In freshman year psychology, your professor had briefly touched on origin wounds – deep, emotional scars that shape core beliefs about self-worth, safety, and especially, trust, making you repeat patterns in adulthood. You didn’t realize it at the time, and Wonwoo surely didn’t mean for it, but this was one of your origin wounds: the point where everything went wrong by dishonesty, by being too reasonable.
Maybe it was an origin wound for both of you.
Your expression was perfectly schooled, lips curving up as you reached across the table with your hand. “Just friends?”
He hesitated, biting his lip for the longest minute of your life. Until eventually … his large palm closed over yours.
“Just friends,” he promised. “Hopefully, for many years to come.”
February 12, 2026
Dusting snow flurries off his black beanie, Wonwoo was grateful that you gave the second key to your building to him rather than someone else. Not that you wanted anyone besides him in your personal space, anyway. You weren’t answering your phone when he arrived, so he let himself in, setting his wet hat and gloves on the antique space heater you still kept in your kitchen. It was so old; you were pretty sure it came from your grandmother that died before you were born. But it worked like a champ, and he was able to shed off his coat just before the pizza box almost fell from his hands.
Ever since you both moved to the city 3 years ago, you established a ritual for him to come over to your apartment on Thursday nights and watch a movie you both never saw before while dining on some of the worst reviewed takeout spots. You both begged to differ. Thursday movie night just made sense, seeing as the two of you bonded in a college course on the history of cinema.
He turned his head to catch the apologetic smile you were throwing his way. That’s why you hadn’t answered his text. Despite the late hour, despite the fact that you left the office three hours ago … you were on the phone with your boss about a change in his flight. You weren’t his assistant; you were actually far above that in the company. But you always agreed to help. If you didn’t answer his call, no one would.
Plopping down on the couch beside you, Wonwoo scrolled through his phone and listened as you talked your anxiety-ridden boss down from the ledge. It reminded him of last week when he came over and you quickly told him to set down the pizza in the kitchen while you sat on your bathroom floor and smoothed over a conflict your work friend, Jennifer, had texted you about. Something about a boyfriend. You didn’t sweat it, never missing a moment to give practical advice.
He had been watching you fix everyone else’s problems your entire friendship – half amused, half exhausted by how you never did the same for yourself. It’s always been something you never had a problem doing, but he saw how much it weighed on you. You never complained though. He wondered sometimes if it was tearing you up inside to complain. Just once.
When you finally got off the phone, you let out the heaviest sigh and fell back, resting your head on his thigh. Physical contact like this had never meant much to the both of you, but still, his finger did stop scrolling. His breathing paused, too focused on himself to notice that maybe yours had faltered too.
“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “Sal put extra cheese on the pizza, right?”
Wonwoo clicked off his phone and let it collapse on the couch cushion. Instead of answering your question, he said, “You’re always doing that – fixing people. I’m sure your boss could’ve figured that out on his own.” He looked down, meeting your eyes as they tilted up to his. “I know you’ve insisted it’s not a big deal, but –”
“Trust me, he wouldn’t have been able to figure that out. He’s never struggled with anything in his life.” You played with your fingers on your lap. “Besides, being praised at work after I help someone feels better than anything, even an orgasm.”
Your latter comment made him bite the inside of his cheek, just for a second, and he ignored it before adding, “It’s not just at work. It happens all the time. You know I’m right.”
You exhaled even louder, more dramatic, and sat up. Your hair was slightly messed up in the back, but you felt his eyes on you. Felt them burning into your cheek as if he had powers. Wonwoo always looked at you that way: like he cared a little too much, kind of like the way he stared at you when you were young and stupid in that godforsaken dorm room. You couldn’t deny that you were guilty of doing the same sometimes, whether it be in a dark movie theater where he was far too focused on the screen, or when he took the liberty ordering for you at a bar because he knew the bartender liked him. And maybe you did care a little too much, but that didn’t matter. Because it couldn’t matter.
Wonwoo would always just be … Wonwoo.
Shifting your gaze to his, you sent him a small smile and asked, “So which movie did you pick out for us tonight?”
After scrolling through multiple streaming apps, Wonwoo finally found the one hosting this horror movie that was recommended to him – Swiped. It was a modern day nightmare about a woman using an app to get back into dating and accidentally wound up on a date with a serial killer. Definitely an indie film, so they didn’t hold back on the gory scenes, which you watched with your hands over your eyes, peaking out slightly between your fingers. Wonwoo, on the other hand, didn’t shy away, but still watched the bloody scene of the killer’s past with his top lip curled in disgust. He set down the pizza slice in his hand onto a paper plate and leaned back into the couch.
“This is the exact reason why dating apps don’t work. You don’t know if you could end up with a serial killer,” he commented, crossing his arms over his chest.
You turned your head, desperate not to look at the TV. “Have you ever actually been on a date from an app? I can’t remember the last time you even told me you went on a date.”
He sent you a glare. “You’re one to talk. The last time you dated was that older guy who you stopping talking to after he wanted to be exclusive.”
“Sean was asking too much of me. He wanted to see me every weekend and I love my friends too much.” You glanced at the scene to see the killer’s particularly creepy face and cringed, looking back to your friend. “Now, answer the question.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I … okay, never. What’s your point?”
Good question. Your nose wrinkled as you thought about the last time Wonwoo dated. It had to be years ago, even longer than you. Just after college and you were both already hyper fixating on a quarter-life crisis. It was before you both moved, and you remembered him casually dating this girl. What was her name? Sally? Seoyun? Selena? Too different, but you thought he introduced you to her once. He broke it off before it got too serious, when you both got opportunities of a lifetime to work in the heart of the city.
He wasn’t dating. Hadn’t been for years. Not seriously. Not casually. He was always “busy,” always “just fine.”
You noticed. Of course, you did.
“Soooo …” You murmured, dragging out the word as you slowly met his eyes. Your tone was smooth, almost blasé. “Are you ever going to date again?”
Wonwoo arched an eyebrow. “You’re full of questions tonight. Why do you care?”
Your gaze narrowed. “Oh, I don’t know, Wonwoo. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend.” You tossed a throw pillow at him and it hit him right in the face. He had never been good with dexterity, even though he was great at video games.
His glasses were knocked onto the floor and he laughed, picking them up before settling against the cushions once more. He fixed them back onto his face, but the frames – no matter how new – were still crooked on him.
When his laughter died down, he shrugged, lacing his fingers together on his chest as he watched the movie. “Haven’t met anyone worth the effort.”
There was nothing dramatic about his tone. He wasn’t bitter. He said it like a fact.
The words stuck, lodging themselves somewhere deep. Not in your head, not in your chest. Even deeper. In your ribs, nestled in a cage of your own making.
Because his answer wasn’t “anyone interesting” or “anyone I like.” He mentioned effort, no matter how indifferent he sounded. You had known Wonwoo for almost a decade. You knew what he was like when something was worth the effort.
So you laughed it off – albeit awkwardly – because you couldn’t stand the silence. “Well, that’s fixable.”
“Here you go again.” But then he finally glanced at you, curiosity peaked. “Is … is it?”
You nodded, body completely facing him now, as you rested your elbow on the back of the couch. Grinning at him, you replied, “Mmhmm. You’re just not meeting the right people. I know, like …” You lifted a few fingers. “… Five women off the top of my head for you.”
A corner of his mouth tugged up. “One of those isn’t your cousin that tried kissing me at your graduation party, right?”
“Don’t make me throw another pillow at you.” You playfully hit his arm. “I’m being serious. I think it all comes down to that.”
He turned back to the screen, just when the main character gasped at the killer’s monologue. Wonwoo was usually quiet, but this silence was different. He wasn’t arguing at your response, but he clearly wasn’t excited either. It was as if he was resigning himself to whatever fate you bestowed upon him.
And then he gently mumbled, “If you think so.”
Haven’t met anyone worth the effort.
You thought about his answer longer than you should. What was meant to be an uninterested string of words to shrug you off struck you somewhere that you hadn’t felt before. They were heavy; you could practically feel them rolling around in your brain like marbles. You pondered them, even at the office, when you should be focusing on work. Even at night, when sleep just wouldn’t come to you. As you took the train to work, when all you could hear was the singing of some elderly man at the back of the car.
Despite the way you laughed off awkward situations, you always listened to Wonwoo, always took in every word he said. One time, after drinking a single margarita because he was a lightweight when it came to tequila, he drunkenly told you that no one had ever listened to him like you did. But last night’s conversation hit … different, in a way that had you picking at your cuticles again. Maybe you cared too much. But was it really that bad to care too much for someone that had become your rock?
You couldn’t harp on it, too afraid of the real answer.
You had just gotten home, still wearing the cardigan you wore to the office even after changing into a pair of worn out pajama bottoms. The kind that you probably got as a teenager, but the fabric had stretched out so much that they still fit. You were chopping up some veggies for whatever haphazard rice bowl you were throwing together for dinner. Sometimes you would eat a pepper slice, other times you’d throw it in the pan. Your mind wandered though: on emails, reminding yourself that you needed to text back your dad, and – oh, the thing that Wonwoo said last week that simply wouldn’t leave your brain.
He deserves someone great, you thought to yourself. Clearly, you weren’t an option, not that you were expecting to be. If he fell for someone else, maybe you’d finally stop looking at him like –
You let the thought die before it could finish.
On lonely nights, when it was only you and your vibrator, some audio porn blasting through your AirPods, you wondered if you both had tried after that hookup before finals … what would’ve happened? Would you still be as close as you are now? Would you still be this much of a fixer and would he still be too “busy” to date anyone else?
Even worse: would you have been worth the effort?
You set down the knife on the cutting board, closing your eyes as you gripped the counter. Your head shook, as if pushing the question out before it could take root. But that’s when the feelings you pushed down for so long bubbled up all over again. Calling it a “crush” felt trivial, like you were two kids at recess. It was more like … a feeling that lingered. A curse. A spirit that haunted you.
Because, at your heart of hearts, you knew it shouldn’t ever happened. You and Wonwoo had the chance years ago, but it wasn’t in the cards. You were meant to be friends and that was fine. (Truly, it was.) Your curse would go away soon enough, even if it took another 8 years of friendship.
Rewinding back to your conversation last week absolutely wasn’t helping. You turned, pressing your back against the kitchen counter as the peppers started to sizzle in the hot pan. Taking your phone out of your pocket, you began scrolling through the contacts in your phone. It was in this moment that you reverted back to your old ways, doing what you always did when you were the least bit hurt: you were going to fix.
II.
I think I’ve loved you since I met you. I just mistook it for curiosity. –ALICE OSEMAN
September 16, 2015
Maybe Wonwoo had been right; maybe this was a problem for you. But no case ever started as “I’m going to fix this person.”
The first inkling happened after you read Jane Austen’s Emma in senior year of high school. You weren’t a matchmaker by any means, and you certainly weren’t wealthy, nor all that clever, but you related to Emma Woodhouse in ways that were beyond you. And once you got to college, where you could start off with a clean state and become your own person, you found your purpose beginning to sprout.
There was a girl in your ENG 101 class named Kat – loner type, the kind to always sit in the back and mind her own business. You observed her from your spot in the corner, watched the way she stayed silent and twirled the same piece of dark hair around her finger. She didn’t talk in class. Didn’t talk to anyone, really. Freshman year of college was hard enough as it was, but it was even worse when you were extremely introverted. Not that you had made many friends yet; you just knew how to make conversation. Always had. If you needed a friend and so did Kat, what harm would it be to help each other?
You approached her once class ended, hugging your notebook to you chest as you flashed the most endearing, pearly-white smile at her. You told her your name as she cautiously stood from her seat, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Do you want to grab lunch with me?” You asked brightly. “I think we also have the same first year seminar next. Maybe we could walk together to it after lunch!”
Surprisingly, Kat accepted your offer. Maybe she felt like she couldn’t exactly say no, but that wasn’t for you to assume. You showed her your current favorite dining area – Lincoln Hall – where they made the best burritos on campus. “They can sometimes make your stomach turn if you haven’t had any breakfast,” you explained, “but they’re worth it. Don’t let the chef intimidate you. Just ignore him.”
You quickly realized just how shy Kat was. She had a habit of keeping to herself and only spoke when spoken to. It took almost the whole lunch to get something out of her, as if she was trying to make it impossible to peel back her layers. But when she finally broke a moment of silence with, “These burritos are that good,” you knew that you were getting somewhere.
“Aren’t they? I love that they actually use fresh veggies,” you replied, wiping sauce from your top lip.
“They remind me of these ones I used to get back home.” She shrugged, pensive. “I miss it sometimes.”
Your interest peaked. “Home? Where are you from?”
She was a couple states south of here, while you were more north. Two opposite ends that somehow met on the same campus. Once she crumped up the empty wrapper, she mused, “You must’ve had a lot of friends back home.”
Your brow knitted together. “Not exactly. Just a small group that I had known since middle school, but I’ve always just been social. When I enrolled here, I really wanted to find new people. My parents always said that the people you meet in college are with you for life.” You traced the edge of the table. “Have … you met anyone else on campus?”
She looked a little caught off guard for a minute, and then shrunk into her jacket. “Besides you? Well … no.”
You tilted your head to the side. Kat stuffed her hands into her pockets and let the silence envelope her until it became too awkward. You realized that in order to get her to open up, you needed to beat her at her own game. It was a lot more difficult than you thought.
“I know it’s only the third week of classes, but I’m just …” She sighed, getting to her feet and grabbing her backpack. “… Nervous about making friends. And getting close to other people. I’ve always been kind of an introvert, but now …”
You followed her move, walking with her outside the dining hall and heading to the Roosevelt building across campus, where your seminar was. “Is there a reason for that?” You asked, and then bumped her elbow with yours, a smile on your lips. “You can tell me. I think we’re friends now.”
Kat chewed on her bottom lip, debating her answer, until eventually, she cracked. “My friends from high school were … not very nice. My mom used to think they were toxic. Whatever you want to call them, they didn’t make me feel good.” She only looked at her feet as you walked together. “High school was hard and I was so scared about being without friends. But they always made me feel like I was a bother. Sometimes they wouldn’t even invite me over. I just let it happen though because I was afraid of being alone. I told myself that college would different.”
“Kat,” you murmured, grabbing her arm so her eyes met yours. You both stopped midstep in the center of the campus courtyard, blooming with life. “I don’t get the vibe that you could ever be a bother. College is the time to make friends, not shy away from them.”
You made due on your words, always making time to have lunch with her after ENG 101, but also introducing her to a few of your classmates from your History of Cinema course. Kasey and Jun were also on the quieter side, but they had way more in common with Kat than you did. Bringing them all together meant you saw Kat less, but she still made the effort to speak to you in class.
By the time fall semester ended, you and Kat were merely acquaintances, but you didn’t really mind all that much. You had become close with your classmate, Wonwoo, also from History of Cinema, as well as a few other girls that lived in the same building as you. Wonwoo was shy like Kat, but he knew when to exactly open himself up, and he always did around you. Sometimes you wondered if you were merely attracted to introverted people, but you didn’t want to be friends with Wonwoo to help him. There was a warmth to his friendship that you hadn’t experienced before, something that you told that he would be in your life for a long time.
When you and Wonwoo were in line for dinner, you noticed Kat leaving the dining hall with not just Kat and Jun, but a few others as well. She had clearly blossomed over the last couple of months, and you felt a sense of accomplishment that tingled throughout your body, from your head to your toes. This was the type of feeling you wanted all the time: purpose, connection, serotonin.
You looked on her fondly, knowing that you helped give her a little push, and your self-esteem seemed to skyrocket. Kat glanced over her shoulder, meeting your eyes then, and waved. Matching her wave with a smile, you then felt Wonwoo’s breath at your ear as he asked, “Who’s that?”
You shrugged. “An old friend.”
February 18, 2026
The coffee at the office was tasting particularly burnt this morning. To be fair, you saw the technician that fixed the machine every couple of months stride through the double doors just after you sat down with your cup. A couple of your coworkers were already fawning over him from the doorway of the kitchenette. You watched them, just over the edge of your cubicle, with a raised brow. The local technician, Seokmin, was definitely handsome and had the kind of biceps you only saw on a bodice ripper romance book, but you had too many emails to waste time on watching him repair the coffee machine.
No matter how much you wanted to.
You took another sip from your cup and winced. Still burnt.
Resting your chin on your fist, you scrolled through the piles of emails that you were copied on but didn’t actually involve your position. You played music softly from the speakers of your monitor, not exactly caring who heard. This was what would happen until you were rewarded with your own office space. Despite your Marketing Director role, the building in general was “far too small” to grant you an office, so you’d make your coworkers’ life a living hell in your cubicle until your boss grew tired of it. He would eventually. Men, especially in positions of power, always caved.
As your fingers began dancing across the keyboard, you heard the doors swing open and the loud scuffle of your coworker, Jennifer’s, ballet flats. You looked up, noting the red in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed and her mouth was in a flat line. She smoothed back the curls in her perfectly styled pixie cut, huffed, and then dropped her lunch bag onto her desk all the way at the end of the row from yours.
Now that was perplexing. Jennifer was always in a good mood.
Your fingers paused on the keys, and just when you were about to get up and talk with her, she stormed in the direction of the bathroom. You heard her start to sniffle, but the sound was eventually muffled by the door to the women’s bathroom closing behind her. When one of your desk mates sent you a look, you took that as a sign to go check on her.
Getting to your feet, you smoothed down the wrinkles in your blouse and quickly made your way to the bathroom, sneaking a glance at Seokmin working his magic on the coffee machine in the process. (He really was handsome. Maybe you could help fix him up with someone here if he was single.) You pushed on the door and immediately found Jennifer at the sinks, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. She met your gaze in the mirror and already began stuttering, “Oh, I – I’m – let me j-just –”
You saddled up next to her and put a hand on her arm. “Don’t be silly, Jen,” you whispered, grabbing more paper towels from behind you and handing it to her. “Here, take these. What’s going on?”
Jennifer blew her nose into the paper towels, and the sound was so loud that it startled you. You blinked rapidly and she grumbled, “Sorry,” but it was muffled by the makeshift tissue.
“It’s okay,” you replied, trying to hide your chuckle. But soon enough, you were both sharing a laugh, giggling over the absolute absurdity of it all at 9 AM. You squeezed her arm as she blew her nose again.
“I hoped no one would see me like this, but …” She exhaled hard, tossing her snotty paper towel in the trash before checking her appearance in the mirror. Grimacing, she fixed the strands that had fallen out of her gelled hairstyle.
Your grip slipped away as you arched a brow. “Do you … want to talk about it?”
She straightened her back, smoothing out the wrinkle in her shirt, before asking, “Do you remember the guy I had texted you about week ago? We hadn’t been dating long, but I asked for your advice –”
“Matty?”
Jennifer rolled her eyes instantly, the name striking a sense of irritation in her that even she was unable to hide. “Yes,” she admitted, and then rubbed at her nose. “The day after I texted you for advice … we actually broke up, but I was too embarrassed to tell you or make you think your advice didn’t work.”
Your brow relaxed. “Jen, it doesn’t offend me that my advice didn’t work. I just care that you’re okay.” And it was the truth, but you couldn’t help but be a little miffed that she didn’t follow your guidance after you made time out of your movie night with Wonwoo to prioritize her problem. That was neither here nor there. Jennifer was your friend after all.
“I just …” She wrung out her hands in front of her, looking down at the dent in her favorite flats. “I saw him at a coffee shop today and it brought back a lot of emotions that I thought were starting to go away. We had only been together for, like, five months, but it still feels so … icky to think that it could’ve worked out and it didn’t.”
“Icky?” You repeated, and then let the word turn over in your brain. “That does feel quite icky, doesn’t it?”
“Very!” She huffed, her palms slapping against her sides. “Because here I am crying over a guy that clearly doesn’t like me anymore, and I can’t stop wondering if I’ll ever be good enough. Like … what is it about me that made our relationship not work?”
Sensing that this was going to be a longer conversation, you leaned against the faucet and leveled a look at her. “Jen, you can’t think like that. You’ll just make yourself go crazy, and I can guarantee that it wasn’t you in the first place.”
She sent you a soft smile. With the amount of times she came to you for advice, it almost felt weird to continuously thank you. “You know, when you turn – let’s say … 20 – you think that you have it all figured out by now. I thought this stuff would get easier, but I can’t help but feel like I’m in college all over again.”
A tingle ran through you, the kind that started at your hairline and trickled all the way down to your legs. Her words hit you in a way you didn’t expect, because you – the person who always had her life together, who pretended like she had it all figured out – constantly felt that way. Sometimes you wondered if you were that transparent, if everyone could tell that you liked fixing so you wouldn’t have to mend any of the problems in your own life. You weren’t just a body anymore. You were merely a piece of cling wrap, translucent and waiting to mold yourself to the next thing that needed you.
But maybe that was just you being too in your head, because no matter what, everyone came to you. And you’d drop everything. It was easier than having to face the fact that you still felt so small, so 20-something, insecure and overworked in a body that was pushing 30.
“No matter what age you are, you’re never gonna have your life completely together,” you mused, a small passing comment that you were hoping would end the conversation before it got too deep. Jennifer reached over you and grabbed another paper towel to wipe her nose. You took the opportunity to ask, “Are you … open to dating again? Seeing someone else can be the perfect way to get over Matty.”
Jennifer shrugged. “If the man is nice enough, sure.”
Wonwoo’s smile appeared in your head then, all the kind things he did for you over the years flashing through like a movie montage. You remembered the time he spent a whole week studying with you just so you would pass your Physics exam. The time he brought you a new pair of slacks when you split coffee all over yourself before a job interview. The time he picked you up from a Renaissance faire when it got flooded out. Or all the times he was there for you when he didn’t have to be.
He was nice enough. More than that. And yet, he hadn’t met anyone worth the effort.
You pushed off the edge of the sink. “You know, my friend, Wonwoo, wants to try dating again –”
Her eyes immediately flickered to yours. “The Wonwoo? As in your friend? I didn’t think he was single.”
“Why?” You cocked your head.
“Well, it’s just … the way you talk about him …” She was avoiding eye contact now. “And the way he was hanging off you when you brought him to last year’s company holiday party …”
You rolled your eyes. “To be fair, he got way more intoxicated than intended. Anyway, he’s very single, and actually … you two might get along.”
“How so?”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came to mind. In that moment, you couldn’t think of one thing – not even a lie – to convince Jennifer to go out with your best friend. They didn’t have anything in common, but that wasn’t typically a requirement for Wonwoo. He liked different.
“Well, I … haven’t exactly thought that far yet,” you admitted, sending her an awkward smile. “But he’s nice. Extremely nice. And you’re good with conversation. He can be difficult to come out of his shell, but I think you could do it.”
She sighed, turning to look at her reflection in the mirror. The redness in her eyes had faded, and she admired the natural flush of her cheeks as she fidgeted with her hair again. Eventually, she looked at you again with a shy smile, and then whispered, “I did think he was pretty cute at the holiday party.”
The game development company Wonwoo worked for was nowhere close to your job, but when you asked him to go to lunch, he always came. He would say that it wasn’t a big deal, but the few times you went to go see him during lunch, it took you two trains to get to him, leaving you with only 20 mins to sit with him before you had to leave. It was a big deal, and yet, he didn’t complain.
He moved around one of his meetings just to come see you, texting you that the deadline for the prototype of their next game was due soon, so finding free time nowadays was scarce. But he still did it. For you. Because he knew you would do the same. He hopped on the two trains to get to you, walking the short block to the cafe you found that was close to the station. Opening the door for the elderly women leaving, Wonwoo squeezed in past them and found you sitting at a small table in the corner. He watched you for a moment, noticing the way your fingers tapped across your phone screen, most likely writing an urgent email to someone on your team. Even with your brow scrunched together like this, you were calm. The idea of being burdened with work settling you better than the green tea on the table.
Wonwoo pushed past the line forming at the register, and your eyes immediately lifted, like you could sense his presence somehow. Your lips curled and you waved him over. His own smile was quick, afraid of looking too eager, although any time he got to see you made him excited. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders, he sat down in the seat opposite of you and saw the hot mug of black coffee already waiting for him.
“I just got you the dark roast because I know you’ve always liked it,” you said, turning your phone facedown. Wonwoo wrapped his hands around the mug as he tried warding off the winter chill outside. “Were the trains bad?”
“Not really, but they’ll probably get worse later when I’m on my way home.” He took a sip of the rich, warm beverage. “I don’t have long though. What was so urgent?”
You laced your hands on the table, and you had this look in your eye that always scared him. The kind that excited you, but whatever you had planned would be hell for everyone else. Judging by the way your gaze was focused on only him, he had a feeling that he alone was going to become your next project.
“What if I told you that I gave your number to Jennifer at work?” You grinned big.
The mug was at his mouth when he paused. He considered pinching himself to make sure that this was real. “Jennifer?” He asked, arching a brow. “The one that brought homemade jello shots to your holiday party last year?”
“Well,” you scoffed and laid out your hand, “they were good, weren’t they?”
He finally took a sip. “I guess so. Actually … I don’t know if I’ve ever understood the appeal of jello shots. Too messy.”
“You’re no fun, and off topic.” You let your finger trace the rim of your cup, filled halfway with lukewarm green tea. “I gave Jennifer your number because she’s interested in going on a date with you. Exciting, right?”
He blinked in your direction. Jennifer sounded familiar; when was the last time he heard about her? Maybe it was … “Wasn’t Jennifer the coworker you were helping a few weeks ago on movie night? You went into the bathroom to give her advice because her boyfriend was being weird.”
“The weird boyfriend is out of the picture now. Has been for weeks,” you shrugged. “And she admitted that she thought you were cute at the holiday party.”
His nose wrinkled a little. “You sure she isn’t just remembering me through the haze of the jello shots?”
Your eyes narrowed into a glare.
He flashed a smile. “Kidding.”
“Listen,” you said, clearing your throat. He raised his fingers – just slightly – but you were already tucking that stray hair behind your ear. “She’ll probably text you tonight to set up a date. Don’t give me that look, Wonwoo. No pressure. It’s just dinner.”
Wonwoo hesitated, leaning back in his chair. This didn’t surprise you; he was always hesitant. He made sure to think through all his choices, not impulsively like you preferred. That was why you two worked so well –
You shut down the thought before it could go further. You shouldn’t be reminiscing on your compatibility with your best friend. This was about you helping him.
He tilted his head slightly, playing with the hairs at the back of his neck, like he did when he was anxious. His eyes crinkled. “Mingyu said once that you micromanage me sometimes.”
Your expression twisted at the mention of his roommate. “Says the president of micromanaging. He needs to mind his own business – literally. That’s what his restaurant is for.”
Wonwoo was silent again, taking small sips from the mug that was almost empty. Tapping his phone, he checked the time. He had maybe 10 minutes before he had to run back to the train station. Was he going to keep you on the edge of your seat this whole time? This was so dumb.
And you told him once over a bottle of soju that you hated edging anyway.
“You can say no,” you eventually muttered, leaning more into the table. “I just thought … maybe she could be worth the effort.”
His gaze met yours again, quick and intense. He opened his mouth once like he was about to refuse, and then closed it. One late night at your apartment, he told you that saying no to you felt like refusing care, which is why you wanted to remind him that he could. But at the end of the day … this was you. Out of everyone, you knew that flicker of change in his eyes, relenting.
For a moment, you wondered if he was going to ask something curious:
“Does she actually like me?”
“Is she really open to a date?”
“Do you think I’ll like her?”
But he didn’t. Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, “Alright.”
A single word. Loaded. Like a bullet.
You blinked once, then twice, surprised. You expected a joke or his typical resistance. This … this couldn’t be his real answer.
Or maybe you were just overthinking things again.
“Okay, great. I think you’ll like her.” Your smile was quick, and then you were turning over your phone again. To text Jennifer, he assumed. The cafe was loud, but all he could hear in that moment was the sound of keyboard clicks. A message being sent. “She’ll probably choose a casual place. She always does when her and I go out. You don’t have to dress up. She’s funny and super easy to talk to.”
And then, you looked up, afraid you were coming off as inconsiderate. That wasn’t what you wanted in the slightest. You cared about him, maybe even a little more than you should.
You reached out, fingers finding his wrist. “And, hey, listen – no expectations.”
He glanced down, watching your thumb glide over his pulse point. You tried to ignore the quickening of it, but it was unavoidable. Horrifically loud and matching your own. And you were now wondering why you told him there were no expectations in the first place. It was ironic, wasn’t it? The whole date was an expectation.
This was a game of charades, and neither of you were going to win.
He nodded, and you retracted your hand onto your lap once again. “Got it,” Wonwoo agreed, committing to his role. He finished the last of his coffee and stood to his full height, making you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll watch out for an unknown number. Text me when you get home after work.”
You bobbed your head, staring at his back as he exited the cafe. When it was just you then, sitting on the booth side of your small table, your cup of green tea cold and abandoned in your hands, it was easy to let the mask slip. Confusion ebbed into your subconscious. Because you thought this was supposed to make you feel good – it always did. But you were suddenly filled with a bottomless pit of regret.
That night, with your sheets tucked up to your chin and your restless brain keeping you up, you thought, If he dates someone else, I’ll get over this. Whatever this is that I’ve been feeling forever.
Wonwoo – poor, sleepless Wonwoo, who was too tired of this act already but the thought of denying you felt like a wound – in his apartment across the city, pondered to himself, If I date someone else, maybe I’ll stop wanting her. She can still be in my life and I won’t lie awake wondering what it would be like if she was here with me.
As you both turned over to a cold pillow, you liked to believe it was all figured out. Inside, though, the two of you knew that life would never be that easy.
Endless emails, unread texts, boring meetings made the week fly by, and soon enough, it was next Friday. The night of Wonwoo’s date with Jennifer. You saw her at the office earlier and she seemed … in good spirits, at the very least. “He really hadn’t texted me this week,” she complained to you at lunch. “But maybe he’s just one of those guys that doesn’t like to text before a first date.”
You smiled nervously. “He’s just … shy.” Your fingers tapped against her arm. “But hey! What are you planning on wearing tonight?”
Deflection had always been one of your super powers.
You had done your best this week to help him. Told him to text her to get to know her better. Got on FaceTime with him as he picked out the best “casual” outfit, whatever that meant. He was tired already, exhausted by the idea of something you didn’t want to pinpoint. So you tried getting him excited: you hyped up Jennifer as much as you possibly could. Tried to find similarities between them. They had the same taste in books – which was an absolute fighting start – and also … well, that might be it. But this was about chemistry, two people getting to know each other and feeling a pull so deep it rivaled magnets.
You had felt it once. Maybe twice, but you couldn’t identify exactly who was the second. You knew that you felt it with Sean; that’s why he wanted to see you so often back then, when things had gotten too much. They were good at first though, when you met him at a wine bar after you’d been stood up from a blind date. As soon as he looked at you from his bar stool, you felt the pull immediately. And his smile … he looked at you like you were something special, not like a sad excuse for a date. You chocked it up to him being older and more experienced, but someone else had looked at you like that. (Someone you just didn’t want to focus on.)
Sean had gotten too exclusive too fast. It had been a lot for you to handle, but at his age, he knew what he wanted. “I want someone like you,” he had explained once. “Driven. Independent. But also soft, even when she doesn’t want to show it. If that’s asking for too much, I don’t know what to tell you.”
His words were cutting, but you guessed you couldn’t blame him. What else was there to say when you told him the relationship was becoming a lot for you? He was a decade older than you. His time was running out while yours was just starting. Your chemistry was off the charts, but something wasn’t aligning. You just weren’t sure what yet.
This was the exact opposite outcome that you wanted for Wonwoo.
You had to become a coach, similar to the one you had for basketball in high school. Over FaceTime was the best chance to catch him, allowing you to teach him about body language and the best questions to ask. You taught him how to make the questions deeper but not too invasive, especially when one glass of wine turned into two. He took in all your information, nodding, but not saying anything. He knew not to question you. Although you hadn’t dated in a while, you knew exactly how women wanted to be talked to – something he typically had trouble with.
Wonwoo wasn’t good with talking to just about everybody. Besides you. Never with you.
You were pacing in your tiny living room as an episode of some reality show played quietly. You supposed that you should go take a shower, do your skincare, and put on your pajamas before settling in on the couch with your takeout. The perfect Friday night. But you were anxiously waiting on Jennifer’s text that she was arriving to the bar that her and Wonwoo agreed to meet at. It was kind of a dive, but the food was incredible, specializing in multiple macaroni and cheese dishes.
There was no way that this wouldn’t work. Jennifer had such a huge personality, one that invited you in and made you feel warm. You were sure that she would charm him.
Your phone dinged.
Jennifer: Just got here! He met me outside, even though it was snowing. Points!!!
You jumped on the balls of your feet, excitement flowing through you. Forcing yourself to finally hop in the shower, you couldn’t help but wonder why you had so much regret about this in the first place. You were grinning; this was good. Maybe the satisfaction of setting up this date wouldn’t be instant, but it was still there.
This was for Wonwoo, after all.
You were buzzing, waiting patiently for his text that he was on his way over. He promised you he’d stop by after the date and rehash all the details. This felt like college again. Your roommate for the first two years, Liz, had been far more popular with boys than you, and although you two weren’t the closest, you longed for the days when you stayed up past midnight, waiting for her to come back to your dorm and share all the juicy moments.
Wonwoo wasn’t similar to the average female freshman, but you knew you could pry some things out of him. At the end of the day, all you wanted was for him to be happy.
That’s what you told yourself.
When your phone finally went off, you were sitting on your couch in pajamas and your wet hair wrapped in a towel. You changed channels from before, but the reality show stayed the same. Texting him back, you scooped one last lo mein noodle in your mouth before getting up to brush back your wet strands. The door lock clicked open once you were back on the couch, the takeout carton lukewarm and abandoned on your coffee table, next to the vanilla cashmere candle you almost always had lit.
Wonwoo shook the chill out of his body as soon as he stepped through the door, and you sat up, an immediate smile appearing on your face. It was amazing how just the arrival of someone could make you happy, but that had always been Wonwoo for you. He was dusting the snowflakes off his jacket as your feet – clad in your favorite fuzzy socks – padded over to him. “That didn’t take you long,” you chuckled, taking his winter gloves and placing them on the old space heater to get warm.
He hung up his coat on the door hang. “Well, I was halfway here when I realized I hadn’t texted earlier,” he explained, instantly gunning for the couch and plopping down in his usual spot. Plucking the carton from the coffee table, he leaned all the way back into the couch cushions and slurped a cold noodle into his mouth. He was silent, watching whatever fight was ensuing on the TV.
You head tilted, perplexed. Maybe it was strange for you to assume, but you thought he would be more … open about details. I mean, you did set him up in the first place. You hummed under your breath, grabbing the leftover chicken fingers and scallion pancakes on the kitchen counter before setting them on the coffee table.
“Soooooooooo …” You dragged the word as you fell into the cushion opposite of him, tucking one leg underneath you. His eyes slid to yours, unenthusiastic. You scoffed and hit his arm. “Why are you being so coy?”
He snorted. “I’m always coy. That’s part of my charm.”
“Just tell me how the date was.”
He shrugged, gaze back on the screen as he set down the takeout container. “It was fine,” he said politely before reaching for the remote. “Can we watch a movie instead?”
You intentionally moved the remote away from him and his eyes narrowed. “You have no right to glare at me when you’re being so secretive. It was just ‘fine?’”
“I guess … I –” His head fell back against the cushions, and then he glanced at you again. “Just fine. The food at the restaurant was good. We had a good time.”
You sat there, observing him, almost dumbfounded. Somehow, he was being even more vague than usual. Distracted. Usually, you could read him like a book, but there was something about his tone that you couldn’t detect.
So you tested his limits, got up in his space, despite the fact that your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest the closer you got. Lacing your hands on top of his right shoulder, you rested your chin on top of them and blinked up at him innocently. He slowly turned to face you, and you both tried to ignore how close your faces truly were, warm breath mingling with the other. His fingers twitched on his thigh, and you wondered if he could feel your heart thudding against his bicep.
“Can I help you?” He raised a brow.
“Tell me specifics,” you said, voice as sweet as honey.
Wonwoo looked back in front of him – anything but your eyes – rubbing two fingers over his left temple. “Why do you want to know so bad?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Sue me for wanting to know how the date I set my best friend on went,” you quipped, not moving one inch from your position. Your eyes narrowed. “Are you gatekeeping some kind of pertinent information? Or – oh, my God. Did you guys kiss?”
“No,” he answered immediately, meeting your eyes. His tone made your back straighten instantly, and he tried to recover by clearing his throat. “I mean – well … no. We didn’t kiss. She’s very pretty and has a great personality, but I don’t think her and I are … compatible.”
You nodded slowly. “What made you realize that?”
He sighed heavily, letting his hand fall back on his thigh. You noticed that his hands were still red from the cold, even though he had his best gloves on. So you grabbed your heating pad from the other side of the couch before he began to speak, plugging it in behind him and wrapping it around his hands, before plopping back down beside him.
Wonwoo was silent as he looked down, the feeling gradually returning back to his hands. He was used to you doing this sometimes: taking care of him, micromanaging him, like he had been your project since college. He couldn’t deny that he liked it, but there was some moments that still left him stunned. It was as if taking care of him came as second nature to you.
When were you going to let him reciprocate?
You poked his arm, interrupting the thought before it could take root. “What were you gonna say?”
He exhaled again and got comfortable in the old cushions. “We talked about our interests – and it didn’t bother me that we didn’t have a lot in common. It was just … I don’t think I’m what she’s looking for. Or what she needs. And then, we started talking about work and that really cemented it for me. We actually talked more about you than anything –”
He stopped himself, eyes flickering to you before he realized you were blowing out the flame on the dying candle. Collecting himself, he added, “I just don’t think we’re going to work. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t a great person. She was really nice.” He shrugged and finally met your eyes again. His smile was bored, almost cat-like. “Done with your investigation?”
“I guess so,” you relented, turning back to face the TV beside him. Your hips were brushed against each other, pinkies so close to intertwining, but neither of you moved. “Unless you want me to ask more?”
He cut you a look. “Absolutely not.” Reaching out, his fingers plucked a scallion pancake from the container on the coffee table, and his smile got even bigger in your direction. “Want to finally watch In the Mood for Love? C’mon, you know you want to.”
III.
Locked down my by side even when I’m borderline, I don’t even know why I push you away. –CHARLI XCX
Bringing yourself to work on Monday was more of a chore than usual. You hadn’t been sleeping right. Your back hurt. And you just ran out of your favorite shampoo. Cementing yourself into adulthood was harder than you imagined in your early twenties. Now you actually had to care about making time before work to stop off at the store to grab essentials.
But maybe today would be good. The crew repainting the office garage smiled at you. The barista at the small coffee shop in the lobby told you that your latte was on the house. You were wearing a new pair of kitten heels and dare I say, you at least looked good. The boatneck sweater your mom gifted you two Christmases ago magically fit and paired well with the jeans you were sporting. It almost made you forget how badly your spine ached. Almost.
After getting a significant amount of emails answered that morning, you headed to the kitchen where your hummus snack that you bought earlier was stored. You noticed Jennifer leaving through the other door just as you were entering, making you pause to wave. “Oh, hey, J–”
Jennifer scrambled away before you could even finish your greeting. Quickly grabbing your snack, you followed her out the same door and attempted to catch up to her. “Hey!” You exclaimed, placing a light hand on her shoulder. “Jen, what are you –”
She turned, attempting to act casual, but you knew Jennifer was incapable of pretending. “Oh, h–hi. Sorry, must’ve not seen you back there.”
You let your hand fall as your brow knitted together. “Must have,” you replied suspiciously. “I meant to text you all weekend, but time got away from me. Did you have fun on the date? Wonwoo hardly shared any details.”
Her lips sealed for a moment, until she eventually muttered, “Oh.”
Tilting your head, you remarked, “Oh?”
“That came out wrong.” She held a hand up, collecting herself. A couple of your coworkers squeezed past and you both waved. Lowering her voice slightly, she continued, “He was nice. Dry sense of humor, but still funny. Gentleman enough to walk me back to my car. But …”
You blinked, hanging off the edge of your invisible seat. You felt like a cat right now and she was dangling a treat right in front of you, teasing you with more to come.
Jennifer scoffed and finally gave in. “But I thought you said he had a personality. At least, that’s how you always made him seem.”
Her answer made your head jerk back in surprise. “Wait –”
“I was basically carrying the whole conversation,” she added. “It really didn’t seem like he wanted to be there. When you brought him to that holiday party, he was pretty engaged in conversation, but when it’s just him … I don’t know.”
You thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo after the date. It was fine, he had said in that bored fucking tone of his. Of course, he was bored. Because he had been the boring one in the first place. Now you were pissed – and confused at the same time. You wasted all that time setting up this date, and yet …
A sigh escaped you. He probably let his nerves get the best of him. Your mother used to say that you shouldn’t cry over spilt milk – or in this case – a bad date. There was no need to get worked up over it, but you just wished he had been honest in the first place.
Maybe you could start with being honest about how you f–
You stopped that thought right in its tracks.
“Truthfully,” Jennifer said, bringing your eyes back to hers, “the most he talked during the date was … well –” She scratched her temple. “– Was about you.”
Your body went rigid, back straightening as if it hadn’t been tense since you woke up. Fingers lacing together in front of you, your lips pursed, trying to think of a suitable response, but … nothing was coming to you. Not one word.
Jennifer tested the waters and prodded further. Leaning into your space, she asked, “Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two –”
“Absolutely not,” you cut in immediately, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “We’re just friends. Have been for years. We just … have a lot of history that he likes to talk about.”
She stared at you, not fully convinced.
You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Listen,” you huffed, “I’m sorry the date didn’t go well. I know I set you up on it, so I don’t want you to think I had … I don’t know. Ill intent, or something. I really did think you two would get along and he’d come out of his shell.”
A slow smile appeared on her lips. “It’s not your fault. Compatibility is a fickle thing. It only happens, like, maybe twice in everyone’s life.” She shrugged. “Shit happens, and hey, I got a free dinner. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?”
You laughed, felt her squeeze back on your hand, before you walked back together to your respective desks. Slamming down into your creaky seat, you lifted your head over your cubicle wall and sent another smile, before bending back in your chair and sighing. Your eyes scanned your desk, lingering on the Polaroid of you and Wonwoo from a few years ago, crookedly taped to your monitor. You narrowed your eyes at his face, as if you could burn him.
Whipping your phone out, you opened up your text thread with your best friend.
You: I thought you said the date was fine
Wonwoo: ? Hello to you too
You: just answer the question
Wonwoo: Where is the question exactly?
You: did the date with Jennifer not go okay??
Wonwoo: It was fine. I told you that
You: I just talked to Jennifer at the office and she told me you barely talked. I understand that maybe I got your compatibility wrong, but I think you neglected to tell me some things
Wonwoo: I’m sorry. In my defense, I’ve never been much of a talker. She was doing just fine
You: omfg
You: you’re literally impossible. I’m just trying to help you
You watched the text bubble appear and disappear for a straight minute. Originally, you saw no problem with the text you sent, but then you started overthinking. Was what you said too harsh? Maybe you should’ve added a playful emoji at the end. He had been typing and retyping for two minutes now, causing you to start biting at the skin around your nails. He could’ve simply been caught up with something at work and not able to multitask. It wasn’t that deep – at least, that’s what you told yourself.
Wonwoo: I’m not trying to be impossible. [UNSENT]
Wonwoo: I didn’t meant to be dishonest. [UNSENT]
Wonwoo: I didn’t ask for your help. [UNSENT]
Finally, the text bubble stopped. Your phone pinged with a new message. You quickly glanced at the text thread to see one single line from your best friend.
Wonwoo: I’ll try harder next time.
Another coincidental situation. Another setup emerged. As your old friend, Holly, lamented to you about missing her ex-boyfriend from two years ago over the phone, you wondered if maybe – just maybe – she would do well on a date with Wonwoo. You supposed that listening better while she complained about Derek was probably a better idea, but your mind still wandered.
You were laying on your bed after a shower, legs bent up on the headboard while your head was near the end of the mattress, wet hair wrapped in a towel. Your phone rested beside your right ear and you were picking at the hangnail that just wouldn’t come off your thumb. Mind elsewhere, you thought about what a date with Holly and Wonwoo would look like. Maybe a diner. Maybe a pub with live music. She loved a “Dad rock” cover band every now and then.
It might’ve been more wise to deliberate on what your best friend’s last text meant rather than picture what his next date would look like. But this was easier. More simpler than revisiting the implications of seeing Wonwoo on dates with beautiful and uncomplicated women you set him up with. Women that he might be uninterested in, and for what reason? Could it explain why he looked at you like that sometimes, like he was taking you apart piece by piece before putting you back together again?
You rubbed at your eyes. Yeah, definitely not thinking about that again.
“I shouldn’t even be talking about Derek right now,” Holly huffed through the speaker. “We broke up because he was an ass sometimes, but when he wasn’t … these are the times I miss him.”
You let your hands fall onto your stomach. You both tried to call and catch up every other month, so how did almost all of them loop around to Derek? He was still on her mind, even two years after the breakup. “You deserve a better love, Holl,” you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
All her dates over the past couple of years were duds. She only went on them every so often, but you wondered if the problem was that she was going out with people she met at clubs. Holly was so cool – not many people could juggle the corporate world while going to see their favorite DJs at clubs and make it to a community theater audition the next morning. But not many men understood her, liked her quirks, or they were just meatheads she met at clubs and eventually revealed that they had no personality.
She was a catch. Always had been, since the day you met her in the women’s restroom at a concert. The best kind of friendships always formed when you were drunk in the bathroom. Holly didn’t live near you, but you both tried to catch up when you could. Her life fascinated you to no end, and she had to be one of the most charismatic people you ever met, constantly endearing people in every room she entered.
You had no doubt that she’d charm Wonwoo. Of course, you assumed the same about Jennifer, but Holly was … different. You couldn’t quite pinpoint it. If anyone could get him to talk, she could.
“I’ve been buggin’ because I want to go out to this place that he introduced me to. A Mexican restaurant in the city. The most bomb guacamole you’ll ever have, and made fresh in front of you,” she continued.
Your brow furrowed. “So why don’t you go?”
“I run the risk of Derek being there. He did show it to me. I just don’t want an awkward conversation.”
It was like a light bulb appeared above your head. “What if you went there with a date? Derek probably wouldn’t come up to you if he saw you with another guy. And if he is there, would it be so bad to piss off your ex the slightest bit?”
“Well, duh,” she snickered. “But where is this date you speak of? All my current flings have ghosted. I’m a free woman.”
You rolled over onto your stomach, smirking down at your phone screen, even though she couldn’t see you. “I’ve been trying to get my friend, Wonwoo, out on some dates. Have I introduced you guys before?”
“Hmm … Wonwoo …” She paused. “That’s your friend with the big glasses, right? The one in most of your Instagram pics? Truthfully, I …” A soft laugh escaped. “I thought you guys were together.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Well –”
“It doesn’t matter.” You huffed, looking through your contacts to share his number with her. “I can set it up, if you want. And send you his number, vice versa. He’s shy, but he’s talkative around the right people. The date could be fun for both of you.”
She took a moment to mull it over, and then said, “Okay. Yeah. I’m down.”
You grinned, already texting his contact info to her. “Excellent.”
“So you’re doing the set up thing again?”
Your tongue clicked, and you paused, debating her question. “Just for Wonwoo. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just …” That laugh again, trying to simmer the sudden tension fizzling down the line. “You told me once that you like doing stuff like this to distract yourself from whatever you’re currently feeling. Or if something tough is going on. You just … like to make someone else’s life better so you can forget what’s going on in yours. Is everything okay?”
“Okay, I told you that over one too many glasses of wine at an Olive Garden,” you replied instantly. “And I’m fine. Promise. I gotta go.”
You ended the call after you both said your goodbyes, and then laced your fingers together before resting your chin on top of them. Did you really tell her that once? How messy. It wasn’t exactly … untrue, but you’d never admit that. Everyone needed a good distraction sometimes, and if this was yours, then so be it. You liked seeing others happy. It was the kind of serotonin that money couldn’t buy.
If Wonwoo really didn’t want this … he would’ve told you.
At least, that’s what you hoped.
Speak of the devil, you should probably tell him that you gave a random woman his number. Again. You sat up in bed, took your wet hair out of the towel, and wrung it out while opening up your texts with your free hand. Your slipper-clad feet hung off the edge, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your fingers began to swipe across the keyboard.
You: hi
You: I got you another date
You: so if you get a random message, it’s my friend, holly. she’s really nice and funny
You locked your phone. It dinged instantly.
Wonwoo: Oh?
Wonwoo: Her text came just as I was about to log off of League. Thought it was spam lol
You bit down on one of your fingernails, right knee curling towards your chest. His playful tone always made you feel warm like this, and you were suddenly questioning how normal that should be.
You: not spam lol
You: just text her and feel it out, but I think she’d 100% be down for a date. she wants someone to take her out to this mexican restaurant
Wonwoo: Alright. Sounds good to me.
His mood switch made your brow furrow. Each word sounded like a pause, like he was struggling to type two measly sentences. You should leave it there, not let it get too far, but then you were typing –
You: I won’t coach you again before this date lol. I think it made you a wee bit nervous on the last one
Wonwoo: Maybe a little
A minute passed. You assumed the conversation was over for now. Standing from your bed, you padded over to your bathroom and threw your damp towel in the laundry basket. Your phone sat on your bed as you brushed through your wet hair, completely unaware that the screen had lit up again with another text.
Wonwoo: I’ll be better this time.
IV.
In the dream I don’t tell anyone, you put your head in my lap. –RICHARD SIKEN
Friday rolled around faster than you thought. Holly had been texting you all day about her excitement for this date, but truthfully, you weren’t sure if she was more excited to meet Wonwoo or go back to his restaurant without worrying about Derek. Wasn’t any of your business.
At some point, you had to slide your phone into your pocket to get off at a different stop on the subway. Trudging through the rain, you managed to snag some of the greasiest Japanese takeout imaginable: vegetable tempura, karaage (your favorite), kushikatsu, and of course, some yakisoba. This was another one of your favorite spots that was poorly reviewed. Even the owner apologized for the mess as he handed the bag over to you, but you already couldn’t wait to dig in. You practically sprinted the couple of blocks back to your apartment, narrowly missing every puddle that came into your path, before you were hurdling through the door.
You went through your routine, regimented as always. After washing your face and putting on your comfiest pajamas, you sat on the floor and pulled out some sweet potato tempura. You practically had a feast laid out on your coffee table, paired with paper plates that were soaked through with oil and your favorite pair of chopsticks from the cabinet. You only wished, selfishly, that your takeout buddy was here to share it with you. And he would be. Later on. Once the food turned cold.
Scrolling through your phone, you found it strange that Holly didn’t keep up with you when she was on her way to the date. You guess that – again – wasn’t your business, but you were curious. You did set them up though. Wasn’t it normal to be this curious? Or maybe you were simply –
You paused, sticking your chopsticks in the yakisoba carton before your thoughts got too serious. You were an over thinker, could debate on topics for hours that truly did not matter, constantly wishing that you weren’t stuck in the deep chasm that was your own head. Sometimes it seemed that the only person who could pull you out was … Wonwoo.
Wonwoo.
His name echoed before you could stop it. Like you always do. And the grieving reality settled in from the mess of your own making. A pang of regret. This wasn’t the usual dopamine you got from fixing, and maybe that was because nothing needed to be fixed in the first place –
Your phone pinged. And there it was – that pause. When the thoughts got too loud and you finally focused on your best friend’s name lighting up your phone screen.
Wonwoo: On my way to your place. Might be a bit. The bus is taking its time
You were grounded again, worries vanishing like a speck of dust in the wind. Instead of taking a day like with Jennifer, you were going to be proactive this time. After answering Wonwoo, you scrolled down to your texts with Holly and quickly tapped your fingers across the screen.
You: how was the date ?!
You started crunching on multiple pieces of karaage when her reply came through.
Holly: man, the food is just as great as I remembered. we didn’t even see Derek, so I guess I didn’t have much to worry about lmao. but I’m glad we went and I think he also enjoyed it! he said something about showing you the restaurant sometime too!
Your brow raised. She was dodging the real question.
You: that sounds great! I was more so asking what you thought of wonwoo lol, but I’m glad it went well <3!!!
Holly: he’s great. a total gentleman. I just don’t think we have much in common
Holly: he picked out the most delicious spicy margaritas for us though
You: really??? I set you guys up because I thought you two had more in common
That was somewhat a lie and you knew it. They played a couple of the same video games, when Holly had time to turn on her Playstation, and you thought Wonwoo enjoyed theater. Somewhat. At least, he pretended to really well that one time you got free tickets to Les Misérables and brought him.
Holly: yeah, we do somewhat. we read the same books and a few video games. I just don’t think he was into it. or maybe he just wasn’t into me idk
You: I’m sorry it didn’t work out. thank you for being honest and letting me know!
Holly: of course! he’s not a bad guy at all, but we just aren’t compatible. our worlds don’t align just yet, which is okay <3 he was also shy like you said and did talk a lot more as the date went on. he talks about you in a way I’ve never seen before. I can tell he cares a lot about you
You: I care a lot about him too [UNSENT]
Your head whipped to the left when you heard Wonwoo turning your spare key in the lock. Finishing off the piece of karaage in your mouth, you fired back one last reply.
You: he always keeps me on my toes. talk to you soon!
His ears were pink from the last of the winter cold. It was the middle of March and spring would soon be upon them. Stepping into your apartment, he released a gruff sigh and let the warmth of the place seep through him. He was staring at you before you even looked up to meet his eyes. Your outfit spoke to how comfortable you were around him: the oldest pair of plaid pajama pants, your fluffy robe with a coffee stain on the front that just never came out, and a large t-shirt. Thin. White. Robe untied and allowing him to see everything. He swallowed and placed his gloves on the space heater like usual, then hung up his jacket. You were carrying multiple takeout cartons to the kitchen island as he stood in the front doorway, not bothering to greet as he helped you place them on the surface before they all fell out of your arms.
He didn’t need to always say, “Hello.” This apartment was just as much his home as it was yours.
Kicking his shoes off near the door, you watched him peel open the flimsy lid of one carton. “Thank God. I was having a craving,” he said, plucking a piece of carrot tempura and taking a large bite.
You retied your robe carelessly and crossed your arms over your chest. “So …” You fought the urge to flick his arm as he grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the cabinet. “How was it?”
“Good,” he answered quickly, as if the word was already on the tip of his tongue. Gathering a pile of yakisoba in his chopsticks, he slurped it all before adding, “She’s really nice.”
Silence. The kind that made you feel prickly, anxious from head to toe. You arched a brow. “Was it, though?”
Wonwoo crunched on another tempura piece and sent you a wary look. He always knew when you were trying to get something out of him, but you had never been the one to be coy. “I said that, didn’t I?”
“Were you into her?” You inquired further, eyes narrowed. You couldn’t blame him for his attitude, especially when your questions were a bit aggressive, but after texting with Holly, you just wanted to see if he’d have the same reaction as her.
“Yeah,” he shrugged, walking over to the sink to wash the grease off his hands. “I guess.”
Rounding the kitchen island, you let your hip press into the counter as you studied him: the way he wasn’t looking at you, the nervous tick of washing around the ring on his pinky. He was running his hands under the warm water now, longer than he had to be. “You don’t sound like you’re into her though,” you said over the loud faucet.
He turned it off with the squeaky lever and wrung his hands over the side. His frustration that he kept inside so diligently was tipping over the surface, like boiling water. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally replied, a tinge of bitterness in his tone. “You’re interrogating me. Why?”
Your mouth fell open slightly. “I … I’m not interrogating.” You tried to prove your point, how casual you were being about this, by reaching over to grab a skewer of pork kushikatsu. Biting into it, you shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong.”
His hand was still damp and he pressed it to his forehead, feeling the warm droplets trickle down his temple, grounding him. “Maybe I’m just … this is a lot harder than it looks. I’m not used to talking to so many new people.” When he opened his eyes, they were practically pleading. For what, you didn’t know. Yet.
You licked at the corners of your lips, relenting, your shoulders ablaze from the burden of carrying all the tension since sophomore year on your back. The tension you were desperately trying to smoke out. You relaxed and carefully curled your hands around his wrists. His body was frozen as you positioned him in front of you. Wonwoo realized what you were doing, providing a visual like you were both sitting across from each other on a date, but with you leaning against the stained counter like this, robe undone again, his mind wandered to a place he shouldn’t. Back in his dorm room. Your legs around his head. Your fingers tugging at his hair as he buried his face further between your thighs.
And while you couldn’t get what he was thinking, you could see in his eyes that it was something too dangerous to describe.
You cleared your throat, watching him blink. “Maybe … it would help for you to go into these dates as if they were a job interview,” you explained, your tone sounding suspiciously recognizable. Work-like. Professional who sits in a cubicle.
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t give me that look. What I mean is … not stiff. Not nervous. Just … open body language. That’s what people are attracted to.” You took a moment, originally trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but for the purpose of your point … you placed your foot in front of you. Just one step. But it still made both your pulses jump. “And it’ll make them move closer to you.”
He physically felt his pupils dilate as he looked down at you. Wringing his hands again, he shook your grip off his wrists, noticing how fast his heart was beating. “You sound ridiculous,” he deflected. “You’re talking like how you do on the phone with your boss. This isn’t a performance review.”
Your face fell, brows pulling together. “This isn’t ridiculous, Wonwoo. You know that. I’m just trying to help.”
Something flickered in his expression then. Your words triggered his foot: one step closer, and then another. The gap between you so small that you felt the heat of his body. The small of your back was biting into the edge of the counter, head tilting up to meet his dark eyes behind his glasses. His gaze traveled, lingering on your pursed lips, moving down to where he could practically see the thump of your heart. The fabric of your white t-shirt, hiding your skin from his, and how he longed to push it up to see all of you. You hadn’t even let him see your chest when you hooked up all those years ago: too shy, too afraid of vulnerability to take off even your shirt. But now you both were nearing 30 and the only thing separating you two was this thin t-shirt that was becoming his biggest fucking enemy.
His stare flickered up before it could go too long, but he saw it. The way your nipples pebbled beneath the shirt. The tension between you two seeping from your shoulders to his like a tug of war.
“I think …” Wonwoo’s voice was low, intimate, like two fingers between your thighs. Simmering through the most private parts of you that so little people had seen.
The heel of his palms pressed into the lip of the counter, caging you. Your eyes closed, almost in surrender, easing under the warmth of his hot breath fanning your face. “I think what would help me is if –”
He immediately stopped. Your eyes opened and met his. There was something so familiar about his expression. He looked … you couldn’t put your finger on it. But your mind was flashing back to a memory: his dark eyes burning into yours, glasses slightly askew, a halo headband that was cutting into the sides of your ears, the damp autumn leaves at your feet and the buzz of tequila in your system. A memorable Halloween night from a few years back. All of that reflecting in the face of the man in front of you. Your best friend. Who was now looking at you like he was hearing something from the past in his head.
Your brow raised. He took a step back.
“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.
Just three words, shutting down an entire conversation before it could even start.
You shook your head, brows drawing together and voice suddenly desperate. “It does matter. You can tell me. You’re … you’re my best friend.”
He winced. Just for a second, but you saw it.
“No, it’s … it’s fine. Seriously,” he added, even as the tips of his fingers were lightly grazing your knuckles, making every hair on your body stand up. Your toes curled inside your socks. “We – I can try again. I promise, I’ll have more open body language.”
His smile was so sweet, agreeing to your every whim because he knew that was the best way to get you off of something. But not tonight, because you both knew why he was doing this. It was that push and pull again – when feelings began to rise over that structured wall you both built brick by back, one of you had to push it down.
And the realization of that – of what almost could have been – was making you panic and want him closer all at the same time.
Wonwoo rounded the island and grabbed the carton of yakisoba before crossing the short distance to the couch. He kicked back, digging into the greasy noodles that would surely do a number on his stomach later. Without looking back at you, he asked, “Wanna rewatch Clueless again?”
You stood in the kitchen and gripped the edge of the counter, attempting to calm your racing heart. Like clockwork, his voice from the living room centered you, reminded you that everything was going to be okay. Things were still good. It was just you and Wonwoo. Friends.
Mustering the best smile you could offer, you grabbed the lukewarm karaage and quipped, “As long as you promise not to insult my girl, Cher, ever again.”
Wonwoo left your apartment a little over halfway into the movie, falling asleep with stray yakisoba noodles on the collar of his sweater. You couldn’t blame him: it was midnight and his body naturally got tired at 11, no matter how much sleep he got. He made sure to help you clean up all the takeout, even in his tired state, and slipped a twenty underneath the candle on your coffee table for always feeding him, knowing you wouldn’t except it unless forced. You walked him to the door, and he lingered – just for a moment – his sleepy gaze on yours while his fingers jerked slightly on the doorframe. Something between you two ached, but not enough to grasp.
So he left with a faint, “Goodnight,” and headed down the stairs for the subway.
The door shut softly, leaving you alone again in your apartment, and the silence was … overwhelming. The kind where you could actually hear a pin drop. Not even your upstairs neighbors were fighting. It was just you, and your own thoughts, as you stood in your kitchen, replaying the conversation that happened earlier.
I think what would help me is if –
An unsettling shiver rolled through you. Back pressed against the door, you sank down until your ass hit the floor and your knees were drawn to your chest. You buried your face in the collar of your coffee-stained robe. I can try again, he had said. I promise. You rubbed at your eyes, wishing the words would leave your head. But they were on loop like a merry-go-round.
You pressed your chin into your palm. Sighing, you realized that you should’ve taken a shower earlier. Your hair was so dirty and you didn’t want to go to bed smelling like takeout. But you suddenly couldn’t move, too consumed by his responses – or lack thereof.
Your brain was like a remote. You hit pause, then rewind, over and over again until all you could see was Wonwoo in your head. You replayed his hesitation, the way his mouth shut immediately. When his upper lip twitched. His jaw tightening with restraint. And his eyes – the way they softened before he let himself get too close. It was the kind of affection you didn’t show to just a friend, but for someone more.
Maybe he was just frustrated, you told yourself. Because what other explanation could there be?
You were too complicated for him. Not worth the effort. And the fear of ruining your friendship was too risky to bear.
But then your skin prickled and you realized … this bothered you. Not in the funny way. This bothered you because you hated that you didn’t know what he wanted to say. You hated the not knowing, the waiting on the edge of your seat. The suspicion. Because he shouldn’t have looked at you like … like that. Better yet: you shouldn’t want him to look at you like that.
You thought, just for a mere second, What if he –
And stopped yourself.
This wasn’t about you. It couldn’t. Wonwoo was discouraged and tired after the bad dates. Anyone would be. That was the reason for his hesitation, the jaw setting, his fingers grazing your knuckles as if he was begging to hold your hand.
Placing your palm against your forehead now, you closed your eyes and mulled over every scenario. Swiping through solutions in your head like a Powerpoint presentation: simple, sensical, because this would always be easier than being truthful with yourself. You were strong; you could always carry more weight added to your burden.
“I can fix this,” you muttered to yourself, and instantly got to your feet. You practically ran to where your phone was laying idly on the side of the couch and threw yourself onto the cushions. Opening your Notes app faster than ever before, you began typing up all of Wonwoo’s interests. Completely focused. Before you could let any more thoughts get the better of you.
Perhaps it was time you found someone similar to him.
V.
If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets. –HARUKI MURAKAMI
You wished you could be one of those people who read a book to wind down before bed. Or someone that drank tea and meditated. Someone that experienced true relaxation. But, unfortunately, your brain was always wired, and the only way you found a little sense of peace was from the mere swipe of your thumb on your phone screen.
It wasn’t all play though – scrolling through whatever social media that was your poison for the night allowed you to gather intel for Wonwoo’s next date. Despite him not asking about it. Despite the sting you felt in your chest each time you wrote a name down in your Notes app. You persevered, scrolling until the light made your eyes burn and you knew it was time to finally sleep. In just a few hours, your eyes would be back on a screen again. Your life revolved around light and screens, ignoring the tension that yanked at your heartstrings every day.
Eventually, you felt a shift when your Instagram feed refreshed to show a new post: Harin, one of your old friends from college. The first person to make you pause and sit up in bed, leaning back against the headboard. The fairy lights above your head flickered, needing new batteries, but your attention remained focused on swiping through the set of pictures she posted.
Harin, you realized, had gotten much more attractive since senior year of undergrad, when you both lived in the same building. She was dying her hair darker, gotten Invisalign to straighten her teeth, even cleared up her acne. It had been years since you last saw her – maybe even since graduation – but Harin had always been … easy going. Helpful. Popular, but also a little nerdy. The kind of girl who didn’t overcomplicate things. Nothing like you.
You picked at the edge of the pimple patch on your chin, because you hadn’t been so lucky with your hormonal acne that came back once in a blue moon. She posted a picture with an abnormally tall glass of beer, then some with people in costume, with the final photo of her in front of brightly-lit booth. She went to some video game convention out of state, the same one Wonwoo had talked to you about for 40 minutes a couple weeks back. Your teeth sank down into your lip, concentrating, as you clicked on her profile and began looking through all her old posts.
Mutual connections. (You both had several.) Tagged posts. (Did she have any bad angle?) Her story highlight that documented her Letterboxd reviews. (You dreamed of watching this many movies in a year.) There was something here. Maybe there wasn’t chemistry – only time would tell – but there was alignment, something everyone needed in their lives. A sense of symmetry. Two pieces that fit so perfectly that it was shocking they never crossed paths before.
You sat back more, playing with a strand of damp hair while zooming in on a picture of her from a concert she went to a year ago – some niche band you might’ve heard Wonwoo also mention. Her smile was effortless. Her hair was shorter and she had star earrings that dangled from her lobes. And suddenly, a thought hit you, cutting, like a blade: He wouldn’t have to explain himself to her. They would just click.
Biting the end of your fingernail, you processed the future before it even had seeds to take root. A bad habit that you weren’t willing to break now, because this could work. Harin made sense. Wonwoo and Harin made better sense.
No more weird looks. No more charged pauses. The dust would settle between you and the man that had been your best friend for nearly a decade.
You swiped to DM her before you could stop yourself.
You drafted a message. It was long, too personal, so you deleted it.
Redrafted, and still, too much. Frustration poured out of you. Why did every message feel like too much pressure? You needed to keep this simple.
You: hey, harin! you seem like you’re doing really well. weird question – are you single? I think you would really get along with my friend. you both like the same things!
The message was perfect, so why was your thumb hesitating over the send button? There was no reason to hesitate; you never did. You were impulsive, almost to a fault sometimes. You could stop this. Close the app and be honest with yourself for once. Quit pushing your feelings down and drowning yourself with work. You could –
Sent.
Your lips pursed. You set your phone down and hugged your knees to your chest, the clean sheets pooling over your bare feet. The room was still, colder than before. Maybe even quieter, although you didn’t quite understand how that was possible. You hadn’t breathed properly in more than a minute. Then, somewhere deep, past your ribs where your greatest desires roamed free, a tiny voice escaped to ask, What if he doesn’t want someone else? What if he wants you?
But you didn’t let yourself process the words, because your phone dinged and – shit, Harin had answered you. She was thrilled to hear from you, congratulated you on your accomplishments. Conveniently, she was now living just outside of the same city, but she seemed uncertain. I don’t typically do blind dates, she wrote. So you made it easy for her by sending a picture of Wonwoo – the one you took of him last winter, when he was carrying both large buckets of popcorn before you went to go see an anniversary screening of Twilight – and she immediately agreed to meet him for a date in the city.
You shared his Instagram profile with her, telling her to message him on there. Maybe texting was too much pressure on him. Maybe her taking the initiative and messaging him on a safe place like Instagram would give him less anxiety. That seemed to be the source of his issues. At least, that was what you were telling yourself.
She was so kind, so excited to reach out that she was asking for advice on the perfect message. And you thought, for once, this might be the date that actually worked out, but you’d been let down by Wonwoo time and time again. No one seemed to be worth the effort. But Harin could be.
You didn’t tell Wonwoo that you sent his profile to Harin, but he kind of figured you were behind the sudden DM he got from a woman totally and completely out of his league. You weren’t exactly hiding your involvement; you were simply … letting Harin do the work. And maybe your assumptions had been right after all, because when Wonwoo texted to let you know that he knew you set him up with Harin, he seemed … more inclined to go on the date than usual.
You weren’t sure how it was possible, but you felt both the satisfaction of being right and stab of something sharp in your heart all at once. Neglecting the latter was easier said than done.
He told you their date was on Thursday night, and conveniently, you were stuck at the office for longer than usual, making sure the latest marketing project with in tip-top shape before you submitted it to the VP tomorrow. Even your subordinates stayed well past their time, wanting to make sure you didn’t have to be at the office alone. It was 7 PM when you all finally left, and you sprinted fast enough to make the 7:15 train, which – of course – was packed to the brim. You were squished like sardines next to an old man who smelled of cigarettes, and you found yourself pushing through the crowd as soon as your stop arrived.
It was strange that you hadn’t heard from Wonwoo yet about the date, but you tried not to think about it that much as you got through the doorway of your apartment. Too tired to even call for takeout, you toed off your office heels near the door and settled on a frozen dinner. There weren’t even any leftovers in the fridge. As you placed the hard brick of lasagna in the preheated oven, you phone pinged and you retrieved it faster than you liked to admit, heart hammering in your chest.
Wonwoo: On my way over :)
Your brow arched. Since when the hell did he text smiley faces? You set the phone back down, and irritatingly threw your hair up into the most unkempt ponytail imaginable, loose strands hanging from the backside of your head. Why were you so frustrated? An emoji didn’t mean anything. And there was nothing to be angry about. Your mind was still lingering on work, projecting your exhaustion onto such a non-issue –
The door opened just as you were pulling the now bubbling lasagna from the oven, setting it on the kitchen island before looking up at your best friend. Spring had definitely come, because Wonwoo was wearing a striped button up that was halfway tucked into his jeans and a light jacket. His hair was messy, as if someone had ran their hands through it, and he had a smile on his lips that was … real. Not tired or forced. Genuine.
The room shifted and neither of you had even said anything yet.
“Hi,” you addressed immediately, realizing his gaze had drifted down. Too caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t even noticed that he had been taking in your disheveled blouse, the pencil skirt that hugged your hips too perfectly, the sheer black tights that made him jealous of any man at work who got to see you in them.
But then his stare was instantly on yours as soon as you spoke. His smile reached his eyes and he replied, “Hey.” It was casual, sure, but there was … energy behind it. The kind of energy you never heard from him before.
You stuck your fork in the lasagna, and before you could even place it in your mouth, he dipped his pinky in the red sauce. Your chin tilted up, watching his expression sour. “It’s tastes …”
You leveled a look at him.
“– Better than anything I could’ve made,” he recovered, and you noticed the pep in his step as he headed for the living room, tossing his jacket on the coat rack.
You paused, eyeing him with suspicion from the kitchen, before looking back down at your sad excuse for a dinner. It was late. You were tired. And instead of eating the greasy goodness of takeout, you were left here with a shitty lasagna and your best friend who looked like he had far too much fun on the date you set him up on.
This wasn’t time for a pity party.
Rounding the corner, you carried your foil tin of lukewarm lasagna to the couch and sat down beside him. You crossed your legs and anxiously pulled at the hem of your pencil skirt before asking, “Did the date go well?”
His smile got bigger and you had to fight the urge to throw up the huge bite of shitty pasta in your mouth. Usually, his debriefs were short and flat. Lacking any kind of emotion because clearly all he wanted to do was watch a movie with you. But he was speaking a little louder this time, gesturing with his hands as he said, “It was … really good actually.”
He went on to talk about the arcade bar they went to, one she knew about before him. He eagerly told you about how she laughed at all of his jokes, especially the bad ones, and how they were into almost the same things. Video games, music, even the same soju flavor. How the fuck had you set something up so perfect? You had to stuff forkfuls of lasagna in your mouth just to stop your teeth from grinding down.
But … wasn’t this your plan after all?
“She’s also really funny,” Wonwoo continued, breaking you out of your thoughts. He ran a hand down his face, as if remembering something she said. “You were right about the game thing. I don’t know many people that have played Arctic Warfare, and she’s apparently good at it. She told me her rank. Crazy. We kept arguing about this mechanic in the game that always makes my brain go –” He shook his hands in the air, laughing at the memory.
Your tone remained normal, despite the war inside your head. “Yeah? What’d you guys play at the arcade?”
This set him off on another tangent, explaining the hour long foosball game they played that ended in him paying for another round of beers. Harin had felt bad, insisted that she was kidding and let them split it, but he wanted to. And then let her pick out her favorite game at the arcade to play next. (It was pinball. You hated pinball.)
“She went to that convention I told you about recently,” he continued as you set the half-eaten tin on the coffee table, suddenly queasy from eating too fast. “And – oh, wait. She showed me this cosplay she did last year. Check it out.”
Wonwoo pulled out his phone and unlocked it, her Instagram profile already pulled up. He found the picture immediately – like muscle memory – tilting his phone towards you to show you the Animal Crossing cosplay she made. Her smile was so bright, cute, in the photo, pink cheeks and yellow eyeshadow on her eyes.
You cleared your throat. “Oh, that’s –”
“Cool, right?”
“Yeah, cool.”
He grinned big, placing his phone right side up on his thigh. Something he never did while at your apartment.
“She understood every reference I made. You know how sometimes I make those references to Portal and you kinda stare at me like I have three heads?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that –”
“She completely got all of them. It was … seriously funny.” He was laughing again, the kind he only did when he was drunk or when you reminded him of the time in junior year of undergrad when you puked in a punch bowl at a frat party. It was sacred and intimate, and right now, it was because of … Harin.
He met your eyes with a soft, authentic smile. “The date was fun. It was … easy.”
You felt your eye twitch.
Easy.
One word had never caused so much devastation to run through your entire body, the type you couldn’t will away with the armor you built for years. To compare yourself to another woman was cheap and not like you whatsoever. You would never think that way because you would never pit women against each other. It was wrong. Distasteful.
But Harin was easy. And you, certainly, had never been that.
As he continued – and you were keenly aware that this was probably the longest he spoke in all the years you knew him – you thought back to his previous girlfriends. The ones from college, the girl he dated three years ago … All those women he’d been attracted to were nothing like him. Opposites attract, after all. But Harin was the farthest from opposite. Your goal for this date had been symmetry, someone that aligned with Wonwoo, which meant this was a success. She changed something in him.
You felt the soft drop in your stomach.
Oh, you thought, he might actually fall for her.
That was the reason why you started this whole thing. It shouldn’t be a shock, right?
Right?
“So …” You played with a loose thread on your skirt, asking the question you always did. The one where you got the same answer. “Would you see her again?”
You were used to his hesitation, the way he would ponder exactly how to say, No, in the nicest way possible. But he didn’t do that this time. Wonwoo’s lips tugged up again as he replied, “Yeah. Yes, I think I would.”
There wasn’t much excitement this time, but his tone was unquestionable. Certain.
Good, you told yourself, this is good.
The silence between you two felt heavy. A constant, wavering cloud of gray.
This was what you wanted.
That knife in your heart dug in deeper, twisting, and you felt the invisible gush of feelings pour out of you. So much that you didn’t know how to push them back inside.
Then why does it feel like this?
His phone buzzed, breaking the tension completely. You sat up a little, peering to see who was on his lock screen, but you already knew the answer. Wonwoo smiled shyly and opened up his texts with Harin. Like clockwork, she was asking if he’d like to go on a second date. He was giddy; you could tell because he was making that face that he only made around you. But he didn’t want to show it, because he was getting to his feet and muttering, “Let me answer this and then we can watch a movie.”
You were completely frozen, hands laced on your lap as you grappled with reality. Every other date didn’t sting like this, because he didn’t like them. Not like this. Those bad dates kept him as yours, but this one might not. And – god, it was wrong of you to ever think he could stay yours because he was his own person and your best friend, but this hurt and your brain felt like it was imploding.
“Hey.”
You turned, seeing Wonwoo lingering by the doorway of the living room. He was grinning from ear to ear.
“Thanks for setting this up,” he said. “I mean it this time.”
You forced a smile. “Of course. I’d do anything for you.”
As he disappeared into the bathroom, you licked your lips and told yourself that everything was going to plan, that was a good thing. You repeated it like a mantra, hoping it would stick. And you believed it … for about ten minutes.
Wonwoo, rather unconsciously, tortured you with information on every date he had with Harin. If he couldn’t come over to talk, he simply texted you. And you feigned interest because – maybe, just maybe – you were terrified that he was going to forget about you. He was just so excited about her, and you could tell. This was your doing and all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy. But now he was happy and it wasn’t just with you anymore. What if, sooner or later, it wasn’t with you at all?
You had bitten your nails down to nubs because of it.
He had gone on more dates with Harin, almost every week for the entire month of April. Spring was quite literally in full bloom. He had even taken her to see the cherry blossoms – something you both typically did together. (But it was fine. It had to be.) He wasn’t coming over as often anymore and the takeout you got on Thursdays and Fridays started to taste a lot worse when you were alone. You thought you had gotten used to being alone all these years, but not like this. Not when the thoughts got too loud and you missed him so much that you debated on downloading a dating app. But then you thought back to that horror movie and decided you didn’t want to go on a date with a possible serial killer.
The bed you had made for yourself was cold and not in the good way. The kind that reminded you how lonely the armor around your heart had become. How yearning felt worse when your best friend wasn’t by your side.
You tried to busy yourself with work like always, but not even the late night phone calls from your worried boss were a good enough distraction. (Although, they did keep you up on the customer service hotline with whatever billboard company he decided not to do business with anymore.) For a second, you considered calling up your ex – the older one, Sean – even just for a one night stand. But Sean had never been one for casual. And you couldn’t remember the last time you were intimate with someone.
The fear struck you like lightning. You stirred in bed, flipping onto your back to stare at the ceiling. After attempting to go to sleep early, it was clear that your racing thoughts were going to keep you up, making dread pulse in your chest.
What if no one ever wanted you again? Not even just intimately, but physically. Your presence.
Worse – what if Wonwoo didn’t want you anymore?
The sound of the oscillating fan at your bedside drowned out, leaving you with the echo of the words that just came into your subconscious. Somehow, the world got so quiet, and you were clutching at the stretched out collar of your pajama shirt, breathing suddenly becoming difficult. What the fuck – this couldn’t be anxiety, could it? No way, you hadn’t felt that in year. You were being dramatic, ridiculous, and –
Your phone vibrated and you had never swung so fast to grab it.
Wonwoo: Sorry for the late text but I miss you
Wonwoo: It’s starting to get warm at night and my fan here sucks compared to yours
Wonwoo: Do you have plans Saturday night? Maybe we could get some drinks at the dive we like
And suddenly, breathing didn’t feel so hard to do. You accepted, of course, because the opportunity to see him after so long was more important than anything else in the world right now. He had never been one to initiate plans, so the fact that he was – let alone, asking to meet you at a bar – was progress. He missed you. Of course, he did. You were best friends, but it was clear that the distance truly made the heart grow fonder.
You prepared what you were going to say, how casual your tone was going to be, and the exact beer you planned to order – Stella Artois, of course – but your entire plan seemed to be interrupted when you turned your head to the side that Saturday night. The bar was getting more full, and you could see from the space you cleared out for him at the bar top that Wonwoo wasn’t alone. His hand was on a woman’s back as he ushered her forward and – oh my god, he brought Harin.
Your body froze mid sip as the cold bottle of Stella was at your lips. Wonwoo pushed his wonky glasses up on his nose and waved to you, helping Harin get through the growing crowd, and it took everything in you to force that smile. Once they were in front of you, your eyes raked down and took in the pretty sundress she was wearing: purple flowers scattered in a pattern over white polyester. She looked beautiful and still so casual with her hair undone like this. Your hand smoothed over the off-shoulder top you picked up on the Express clearance rack and your jeans that were a trusted pair since college, suddenly self conscious. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this way, but then you noticed how she was the perfect height next to him and now you were picturing yourself as a fucking Amazon woman next to her and –
You needed to stop this, but you were already upset, eyes getting the tiniest bit pink as you went in to hug Harin. She slipped past you after to order her drink of choice – a rum and Coke – at the bar, and that was when you felt Wonwoo pull you into his broad chest, and you realized just how well you fit here, his nose pressed against your hairline. Your fingers notched into the short sleeve t-shirt he was wearing, and then he muttered, “Missed you,” making you tug on that cotton a little more than a friend should.
“You too,” you replied, voice muffled by his shirt. “You’ve been busy though.”
He laughed under his breath before whispering in your ear. “She wanted to come see you after all these years. This okay?”
“Of course,” you replied, but there was no vigor behind it.
He hummed as you leaned back from him, and he absentmindedly lifted your hand to notice how badly you’d bitten down your nails. His brow furrowed, but you pulled away before he could comment.
Taking out his wallet, he handed Harin his credit card so she could get them both drinks. “You should’ve waited for me,” he said, nodding towards the Stella in your hands. “I wanted to buy your first drink.”
“I’m very capable of paying for my own beer, Wonwoo,” you remarked, and then realized how bitter you sounded, how the frustration that you pummeled down for weeks came up to the surface so easily. Your expression softened as you added, “You can pay for my second.”
He smiled, all goofy and kind. “Sounds good.” Noticing the strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes, he reached up to push it behind your ear at the same time Harin was turning around with the drinks. Wonwoo’s hand instantly retracted, but came back out to take his card that she handed to him.
“Oh,” she beamed while handing Wonwoo his Stella, “you guys like the same beer.”
Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to you with his chin. “She turned me on to it. I was into Guinness for a bit.”
Harin stuck out her tongue in disgust and you suggested to move over to a high top table, desperate to let this conversation die before it could even begin. You didn’t want Harin thinking that you were one of those weird girl best friends, that you and Wonwoo had secretly hooked up on the side – even though that … definitely did happen in college. Nevertheless, you didn’t want her to have any assumptions of you. This night had already gone off the rails and you were desperate to get it back on track.
So you asked how they were doing, which was another mistake on your part because then Harin glanced at him and he was doing that goofy smile all over again. But not at you. Especially not now. She sipped at her drink through a tiny straw, nudged him with her elbow, before mumbling, “C’mon, you tell her. Don’t be so nervous, Nunu.”
Nunu?
You blinked.
When the hell did he start liking that nickname?
Without meeting your eyes, his hand found Harin’s wrist on the tabletop as he muttered, “I asked her to be my girlfriend last week.”
“Oh,” you blurted, and his gaze instantly lifted to yours. Your lips sealed for a moment, and then you added, “I meant … oh! That’s great news. I just never …” You should stop yourself, because Wonwoo’s eyes looked like he was pleading with you to be silent and Harin was staring at you like you were the most interesting thing in this sea of drunk people. “You’ve always taken so long to be exclusive. I never expected it. But I … I’m happy for you two.”
Harin’s face shifted into a huge grin, her eyes closing and her laughter hard to control. Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief that he thought no one noticed, but you did. You took a long swig of your beer as Harin looked to Wonwoo to exclaim, “And you were nervous to tell her! I told you that it wasn’t a big deal.”
That made you both pause. Your eyes flickered to his, the beer bottle frozen to his lips, and you set your own down on the table. Your hands were sweating as much as the cold glass. “You were nervous to tell me?”
He took a sip and shrugged. “Well, I –”
“I think he just …” Harin’s voice trailed off as she looked at him, her own hand coming up to lock around his wrist now. “He values your opinion more than anyone else’s. I’ve noticed it when he talks about you. Besides his parents, I took you as one of the most important people in his life.”
She was speaking in his direction, but once she finished, her head turned to you and she gave you the kind of smile that made you utterly hate yourself. Not out of jealousy, but because she was kind and perfectly perfect for him. Unchallenging and effortless.
For a moment, you were stunned, not sure what to say. But then you were setting down your beer again and suddenly replying, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be right back.”
You spun on your heel, shoving yourself through the crowd of people that had assimilated around the bar, before finally propelling inside the two-stall bathroom. Walking up to the sink, you clutched the edge and let yourself breathe for a minute, inhaling the heavy scent of Febreze. You debated on splashing your face with cold water before you remembered that you decided to not wear waterproof mascara tonight.
He values your opinion more than anyone else’s.
Bile started to rise in your throat, making you cough and finally turn on the sink to cup water into your mouth. Your eyes got pink again, but you held back the tears that were damn near burning to be let out. If you cried now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and you’d be damned if you let yourself cry over this. Over something so … nonsensical. What were you even upset about anyway?
The soft sounds of Maroon 5 only got louder when the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of Harin’s flushed cheeks. She smiled at you and you immediately sucked in whatever boogers were trying to leak out, grabbing a paper towel to dry your hands. “I didn’t get to tell you yet,” she said, walking forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, bringing you into her orbit, “but you look even better since college. I’m in love with this top.”
And to think you were second-guessing it an hour ago.
She leaned back to grin back up at you, and looking at her now … you could see how she was able to charm just about anyone. People said that about you sometimes, but Harin was different. Something about her aura made you instantly want to let your guard down, feel more at ease, realize how silly you’d been feeling about all of this.
Until you remembered she was now your best friend’s girlfriend and something about that deeply unsettled you.
“Thanks,” you smiled as she detached herself from you. “I really like your dress too.”
“My mom got it for me! Target find, I think.” She shrugged, quickly washing her hands and looking over her shoulder at you. “I stalked you on LinkedIn a little bit. Not sure if you got the notification. You’re a Marketing Director now? That’s so cool!”
“It’s fun sometimes,” you waved off, unsure how to take compliments, even at this age. “You must be doing something cool now.”
She shook her head and dried off her hands. “Nah, I’ve been at the same software developer position for years. But I want to get into game development at some point.”
God, you thought, I really did find him his match.
You nodded, unsure what to say next, but then she was approaching you and reaching out to squeeze one of your hands. She looked up at you like you were important, like you hung the stars one by one. “I just wanted to thank you privately,” she whispered, “for introducing me to Wonwoo. I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings this fast or got along with anyone so well, and I just … thank you. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”
Your heart broke, and you needed to mend it in an instant. But this stung more than you could’ve prepared and it wasn’t fair that you were hurt when this was your doing. The bed you made. The music you had to face. Etcetera, etcetera.
“It was no biggie,” you muttered, wondering how you could make a break for it. Even if that meant going into one of the stalls that had more litter on the floor than a dumpster.
“It is a biggie. It just feels like …” She trailed off, looking off to the side as she mulled over her next words. “You know how I knew it was a big deal when he asked to be exclusive? He wanted to watch a movie – In the Mood for Love – and I learned only later that was one of his favorites. Did you know that?”
Of course, you did. It was only a couple months ago that you two watched it together and he never added anything to his Letterboxd Top 4 so fast.
But you shook your head, eager to get this over with. Maybe you could pretend to be nauseous and go home early.
“It was during a really pivotal scene that he insisted I pay attention to,” she continued, “but then … I felt his hand in mine. And it was like … the way you can feel someone looking at you. Then, he asked me, and something about it felt so right. The moment, his hand … everything. Which I know sounds super corny, but I just … I know this is good for me and I have you to thank. So again – thank you.”
You took the opportunity to carefully slip your hand out of hers. “You’re … you’re welcome,” you forced the words out. “I’m really glad it’s working out and you’re good for him too. This is … the best news.”
You sent her one last quick smile before your shoulder brushed hers. “If you’ll excuse me. My beer must be getting warm,” you added with a chuckle.
In that moment, as your palm pushed against the door and you felt the humidity of the packed bar all over again, seeing your best friend wave and keep watch over the high top table … you realized that getting over him might not have been what you wanted in the first place.
VI.
I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you. I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you. I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night. And now I see daylight. –TAYLOR SWIFT
October 31, 2023
It was a particularly warm Halloween. A slight breeze had settled over the brightly lit city, but humidity lingered from the constant on-and-off rain all day. The weather just made the local dive that much hotter: bodies packed like sardines in a small bar that still smelled like cigarettes with a tinge of men’s deodorant. You and Wonwoo had moved downtown a few months ago and were lucky enough to find this place so close to your building. And the best part was – no cover charge.
Not that they could with how bad it smelled in here, but beggars couldn’t be choosers sometimes.
You were wearing a cheap angel halo from Dollar Tree that was far too tight on your head with a pair of light wash jeans and a top that fell off one shoulder a bit too far, enough to make a few men turn their heads and Wonwoo stand close. He had no costume – of course – but maybe he had the right idea when it felt like this headband was compressing your actual skull. However, when a pirate woman that was far too inebriated from multiple Dirty Shirleys asked what his costume was, he replied, “Game developer,” with a cheeky smile.
After twenty minutes, you were finally greeted with the sight of your friends from your new job pushing through the crowd to get to your free corner of the bar. You handed Wonwoo your beer without thinking – and he had to make a mental note which one was yours since you drank the same beer – as you tugged Jennifer into a hug. She was flagged by your other coworkers, Felix and Hunter, who he only recognized because he heard those names come from your mouth more often than not these days.
He introduced himself when you brought them over, but still kept to himself, practically sinking into the corner of the dark bar as you rambled on about something ridiculous happening with your new boss, who seemed like an anxiety-ridden mess. But you already knew that. You were distracted, yet you could still feel Wonwoo’s awkward presence near you. He had always been quiet, since the day you sat next to him in that History of Cinema class, but something was different tonight. Although he didn’t say it out loud, you knew he was still thinking about the girl he broke up with so he could move around the same time as you. He always said that she was nothing more than casual and the career opportunity he got here meant so much more, but … his demeanor tonight spoke to more than that.
Sometimes you wondered if Wonwoo just wanted to belong to somebody.
You wanted to tell him that he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him, but something about that felt too intimate.
Leaving the bar with a fresh buzz, your arm hooked around his and you allowed him to take the lead for once. Wonwoo might’ve been a tiny bit tipsy, but his broad shoulders and height made it easier for him gain the upper hand when your footsteps got a little too fast. You had one too many tequila shots more than him and it was enough to make you feel tingly, to make you a little overconfident when you tried to walk without his help. It almost ended with you face-first on the sidewalk.
Wonwoo grabbed your hand as you tripped over the tip of your shoe, and then simply … never let go. His palm was so warm in yours, albeit a bit sweaty, but you assumed that was from the fluctuating weather. And totally not because of anything else, even as he avoided eye contact.
He kept you close, bringing you into his side when someone else walked past. Your hand was in his sweaty one for a solid three blocks until you reached the door to your building. Feet slowing, his hand slipped out of yours, and it was supposed to look casual but when you turned to him, he was clumsily punching said hand into his jean pocket and trying to hide his pink cheeks.
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling the lip gloss you put on earlier crust at the corners of your mouth. It felt like your brain was swimming, drowning in whatever cataclysm of feelings you were trying to flush, but it was impossible. Wonwoo was impossible.
“You can stay over if you need to,” you offered. “I don’t want you walking back to your place all alone.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “It won’t be that bad. I might just have my roommate pick me up. I think Mingyu’s hanging out with someone just a few blocks away.”
He was staring at your hand, and you noticed, enough for the heat of your gaze to make his chin finally lift like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Nodding, you replied, “Thanks for going out with me tonight.”
His smile was effortless, so incredibly easy. “I know you hate spending Halloween alone.”
You chuckled, spinning slightly to hide your grin and purposefully whacking his shoulder with your purse. “It’s too spooky,” you argued, turning back to him and realizing now that his body was suddenly within reach. Your lips pursed and you met his dark eyes, the tequila in your system suddenly making your guard slip, as if it was made by mere paper and not bricks.
“Sometimes I think you’re the only person who actually knows me.”
His body went still, taking in your response, and then he asked quietly, “Is that … okay with you?”
Words failed you, dying on your tongue like ash, but you still allowed gravity to pull you in his direction. You were closer now – close enough that your chests brushed, feeling his warm breath on your face. It made a cold sweat appear on your hairline that mingled with the vaguely cool air around you, a reminder of the bitter winter ahead. But at that moment, it was just you and him, and the fallen leaves collecting in puddles around you, and the humidity that made your hair frizz a little. The alcohol running through you had your cheeks flushed and when your head tilted down, you realized your pinky was hooking with his.
You never wanted anything more than this: his warmth, his presence, Wonwoo. The only person that you trusted with your life. Your closest friend. You wanted him everywhere and nowhere. Wanting him was a blessing, but it was also too much, suffocating you from the inside out.
Your gaze lifted to his again, and your lips parted to say something that might ruin everything: “I think … I think I’d be okay with –”
But then, you hiccuped. And again, and again. Enough that you had to hold your breath for a couple seconds to calm down. Your finger was still looped around his and you didn’t look down to make sure it was real, but you felt his thumb running over your knuckles in a way that screamed want. Desire.
The tingles from alcohol started to fade, remnants of tequila ebbing away, and you reframed instantly. Your pinky carefully slipped out of his and you chuckled, “Obviously. You’re my best friend. I mean – that’s kind of the point, right?”
Wonwoo hesitated, brow quirking up for a less than a second. “That’s … that’s good.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped back from you. Your fingers twitched, already missing his warmth.
“I should get going.” He crooked his thumb over his shoulder, feigning a smile. “See you next Thursday for movie night.”
May 7, 2026
He hadn’t been coming to movie nights.
Out of all things, Wonwoo typically didn’t skip a movie night. Not even when he had a date. Hell, he was frequently trying to watch one with you after the dates you put him on. But once turned into twice, and then it was May and the peonies were sprouting in the soil by your apartment and Thursday had become their date nights.
It’s the best day for both of us, he told you in text once. I don’t usually work past 5 and her meetings end around 4:30. It just worked out that way. Which you couldn’t blame him, because Harin was his girlfriend and making time with her mattered. But there was this thing called a weekend – that they were using for dates too (you’d know; you saw the cute photos Harin posted on her Instagram story) – but of course, Thursdays were date night too. Convenient for them. Lonely for you.
You typically embraced loneliness like an old friend. It was never cold – actually, it was rather comfortable – but you regarded it with indifference. You had been alone for so long that you were used to it. It didn’t matter, as long as you had your friend. But your friend was preoccupied with someone else now – someone you set him up with. And this was supposed to make you feel good, but for the first time, you felt yourself grimacing when the shroud of loneliness appeared at your bedside and you flipped over, curling a blanket around yourself despite the heat.
So you called him.
You shouldn’t have. You should’ve let the feelings fester and eventually, they would pass. They always did. But it was another Thursday night alone and the mindless arguing from the reality show on your TV was doing little to silence your loud thoughts. Your glass of homemade sweet tea was left abandoned on the coffee table, water dripping down the sides, as warm air filtered from the open window. Summer was near and yet the spot next to you on the couch felt cold as ice, like someone had deserted it for longer than normal.
You flipped your phone over before you could stop yourself, scrolling down to his name. It was late and he was probably just getting into his apartment after seeing Harin, but you didn’t care. You didn’t really care about anything anymore, truthfully. The line only rang for two seconds before you heard a click and he was saying your name. So faint, like a prayer.
For a moment, you were sure you heard Harin’s muffled laughter leave the speaker.
“Are you just never going to come to movie night again?”
Wonwoo paused, and then said, “Hello to you too.”
“It’s late and I have to go to bed soon because I have a 9 AM meeting tomorrow. I don’t exactly have time for ‘hellos.’” It was a lie, and you both knew it. You’d been staying up way longer than you should’ve most nights and going to work exhausted. It could probably be heard in your voice.
He exhaled heavily, and you could almost hear him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for skipping. It’s just … you know why. But I feel terrible. You have to know that too. You know I wouldn’t skip plans with you if there wasn’t a legitimate reason.”
You picked at the corner of the pimple patch on your jaw, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been skipping a lot of things recently.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
There was an indistinct woman’s voice on the other end, and then a door closed. He was alone now.
“Wonwoo,” you chastised, “you don’t need me to spell it out for you.”
“Is this still about movie night? I’m not a mind reader.”
You took a moment, swallowing down your pride and sitting up. If you didn’t say it, you feared you never would. The festering wouldn’t cease until you let the word vomit out.
“I feel like you’ve just forgotten me since you started dating,” you said, and then clarified, “since Harin.”
Silence echoed. The minute began to draw out, enough for you to ask, “You there?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “just thinking.”
“About what?”
Wonwoo clicked his tongue then. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
Your head jerked back, the grip on your phone tightening. “It is. I’m happy for you. Don’t I sound happy?”
The sound of his lips opening came muffled through the speaker, but you kept going on.
“I just –” You let your head fall into one hand as you rubbed at your temples. “I’m frustrated. I know people grow apart as they get older, but … I don’t see you anymore and it’s like you don’t give a fuck.”
“Now you’re putting words into my mouth.”
“So? Who cares?”
“Well, it seems like you do.” His words made your heart sink into your stomach, like you’d been caught in the biggest lie of your life. Maybe you had. “Why do you care so much?”
You blinked. “I …” Every nerve in your body died. Even if you wanted to speak, you couldn’t. There was nothing to say anyway. How could you possibly explain the truth when you had buried it in the deepest cavern imaginable for so long?
Finally, your mouth began moving for you: “I just think you’ve forgotten about your friends.”
Wonwoo sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “Listen,” he started, “You’re my longest friend. I know this is what you like to do. You like to fix people because it feels good –”
“It’s not just that, Wonwoo –”
“– But you don’t get to decide what’s best for me,” he added. “I do.”
Any response you had ready seemed to burn in your throat. It was like he took your whole vocabulary, leaving you mute and helpless as static buzzed from your line to his. Your mouth hung open slightly, and you prayed something would come out, but … nothing. You were nothing in a sea of nothingness and Wonwoo wasn’t yours anymore.
Eventually, you heard him exhale with a tinge of regret. “You there?”
You moved your phone away from your ear, staring down at his contact name. The text began to blur when you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself; this hurt but you would survive. You always did, and he’d come back to you and you’d accept him with open arms because this was you and Wonwoo after all. Every friendship – or whatever this was now – went through a rough patch.
But instead of replying, you immediately ended the call.
Wonwoo didn’t come back like you thought.
Silence stretched, thinner than a bed sheet. The distance was colder than you imagined, almost arctic, and you felt it settle deep in your bones, but it did nothing to cool you at night when the humid breeze blew through your open window. No communication was harder than it looked, but in your defense, you really hadn’t expected this. And now, you were too embarrassed to even text him, the fear of rejection still clawing at you just like in college. (Let’s be real: it never really went away anyway.)
You had never been broken up with in the twenty-something years you’d been alive. Typically, it was you who broke things off, and sure, you were sad afterwards, although nothing ever lingered because it was you who ended it in the first place. Maybe you were heartless; maybe no relationship really mattered like Wonwoo’s friendship – but no breakup really hurt. This, however, felt worse than you could ever imagine. Your entire world seemed like it was falling apart and you couldn’t even go to him.
You missed him – more than you ever thought you could, more than that time he went away to Italy during summer break junior year – but you were getting by as much as you could. Jennifer took you out for drinks, and the sugary margaritas made your head swim for a solid night before you were right back to sulking in your chair at work. You got a promotion – one you had been gunning for for a year, one that you deserved. That felt good, and finally, your mood was turning around. Even your parents were going to visit for your birthday in September, something they hadn’t done in a few years. Your mother’s usual saying, “It’s always so busy around your birthday,” graduated to, “I think this year calls for celebration. The last year of your twenties is a big one.” There was a possibility of them cancelling, but you didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
So many things to be excited over, and you were trying to focus on them, especially on those dreaded Thursday nights. Instead of popping a movie on your TV and watching it in silence like a lonely 50s housewife, you were taking matters into your own hands. Matters that involved a leak you tended to ignore every time it came back. You were blasting the loudest heavy metal music possible though your AirPods, the kind of stuff you hadn’t listened to since high school, as you tried fixing your bathroom faucet on your own. The sink was older than the apartment, it seemed, and would leak at the most inopportune times. You had been paying a technician to come fix it almost every year, but after the last time when he stared at your chest a little too long, you decided maybe it was time to get up off your ass and try.
In a loose pair of sweatpants and a tank top that was doing nothing to hide your genetically lopsided boobs, you hunched forward and inspected the pipe below the basin. You watched a tutorial online, then watched it again, and settled that this should be easy enough. Gone were the days of you paying a pervy technician far too much money to stop a leak that kept happening. You were a new woman now: independent, self-sufficient, definitely not lonely.
You followed the instructions to a T, but something was just wrong. Maybe it was the day or some form of karma that just wouldn’t get off your back – you would never know. Using all the strength in your body, you tried turning the shut-off valves clockwise, but it was hardly budging. It was like there was something preventing them from moving and condensation was already creating a puddle on your tiled floor. You even tried turning the water on and all the way off to see if something was just clogged, and yet … nothing. Were you really that weak that you could figure out how to fix a fucking sink?
There had to be a solution you didn’t know about. Connecting the drain to the stopper was a washer where the leak was dripping from. You picked up your wrench, the tip of your tongue meeting the corner of your lips, like you did when you really concentrated. The music blaring in your ears was reaching a peak, the bridge so loud that your could feel your neurons kissing – or whatever it was that neurons did. Maybe if you yank the wrench this way around the washer that would stop the leak –
Water erupted from the pipe, spraying all over your face to the point you felt like you were being fucking waterboarded. You reached out with fumbling, desperate hands, trying to tighten the washer again with your eyes closed, realizing you’d been stupid enough to leave one handle turned. After a couple more seconds of what you could only describe as a horrific form of torture, the washer went taut and the water stopped, albeit still leaking, but at least it wasn’t blasting into your nose.
You slumped back against the wall, coughing up the water that had entered your nose, before resting your head back against the peeling wallpaper. Your body was soaked, the thin cotton of your tank top completely ruined and your sweatpants looking like you pissed yourself, and – oh, now you were crying.
Tears welled up before you could stop them, rolling down your cheeks and clogging up your throat. The current song in your ears faded, replaced with an equally louder one that you simply had to turn off at this point. You couldn’t prevent the sobs from absolutely wracking through your body, like it was relieving tension from your system. But still, something about it almost felt violent: your face was turning red and you could already feel a headache coming on as tears practically stung at your eyes. You looked at the sink like it killed someone in your family and it was in that moment that everything became clear. Well, somewhat – warm, wet globs were still falling and it almost hurt to breathe.
You couldn’t believe you’d met your match and it was a sink.
The realization hit you and it felt like you were wearing an invisible dunce cap. You couldn’t fix everything. You could try and do everything in your power, but there was always going to be something that couldn’t be fixed on your own. And it wouldn’t feel good – actually, it made you feel like utter shit – but you had to get over it. You couldn’t do it all and not everything – not even a faucet – could be fixed.
As your eyes followed the water trickling from the pipe, you knew then that you’d been treating Wonwoo like this, like a sink. A project instead of a choice. Perhaps it should’ve been clear when you told him to go into his dates like a job interview, or when he told you that his dates weren’t a performance review. There were a multitude of times when you should’ve realized, but you didn’t,and now you were paying the consequences with this leak in your bathroom and no Wonwoo by your side.
You got to your feet and padded to your room for a fresh set of clothes. It wouldn’t help sitting there and sulking at the stupid leak you couldn’t fix.
On the rare occasion that your absent-minded mother called you to check in, she’d ask you the same things – “Are you still working at that company? How’s Wonwoo? Did you get a cat yet?” – but one always stuck with you, to the point her voice would echo in your head before you went to sleep. Sometimes she’d prod about why you weren’t dating anyone, why you hadn’t experienced love yet when you were pushing thirty. And it stumped you, because surely, you should’ve experienced love at least once. But you never wanted to think too deeply about it out of fear, and then came up with a quip like, “I’m waiting for a love like I’ve seen in the movies. Find me my own Harry Burns from When Harry Met Sally, then we’ll talk, Ma.”
It was all farce though.
And as you sat down on the edge of your bed, clean clothes abandoned in a neatly folded pile at your hip, you knew the reason why now. You’d always known, deep inside yourself, but you pushed it down for so long that these feelings had no choice but to come up when a leaky faucet made you the most defenseless. Like your armor of sturdy bricks had finally crumbled from a mere gust of wind.
You were in love with Jeon Wonwoo.
Maybe you always had been.
VII.
Orpheus: How will you remember?
Eurydice: That I love you?
Orpheus: Yes.
Eurydice: That’s easy. I can’t help it. –SARAH RUHL
You attempted to text him for an entire week, an abundance of words spilling from your subconscious, the same ones you buried since the day you shook his hand while saying, “Just friends?” That one sentence seemed to haunt you for life, repeating over and over in your head when not even audio porn could dull the ache in your chest. You poured your heart out into your phone all week: ranging from essays you drafted in the Notes app to actually opening up your texts with him and letting the bright light blur into your retinas until sleep finally took over.
Nothing was right though.
Maybe it was all you. The ideal words just weren’t coming and it was all too embarrassing. You weren’t 28 anymore; it felt like you were 11 logging onto AIM with trembling fingers before messaging the boy you liked. The same boy that you shared Social Studies with, that you didn’t give a Valentine’s Day Fun Dip to because you thought that would make him like you – but I digress. You were shriveling into your past shelf and you didn’t know how to make it all stop.
The next blow hit before you were able to expect it.
While you’re on your lunch break eating the saddest salad known to man, you open up Instagram and see a story update from Harin. Instinctively, you know you shouldn’t. It could be nothing and it would still make you upset. The last thing you needed was to drench this limp salad with your tears. Your finger hovered over her icon, and you almost stopped yourself but the temptation was too much.
A video started playing, making your hands fumble as you struggled to turn the audio down and grab your AirPods at the same time. Once they were in, you replayed the first video: she was showing off a new apartment with a big smile. She was so beautiful and graceful as she moved around the new place, presenting the big kitchen and best indoor heating system for the winter. (You wondered how she’d fair with your tiny space heater in the kitchen, and you chuckled to yourself.) She opened the door to the bedroom, rambling on about the size and how it was made for two people.
You held your finger down to pause. Made for two. As in … a couple. Moving in together.
Lifting the pad of your finger, her voice came though your headphones automatically: “This move all came up pretty fast,” she sighed, plopping down on the clean carpet. “But it’s a new opportunity and I’m so excited to start this new journey, as corny as it sounds. I’ve been a little bit of a cornball recently. If you know, you know. Trying to romanticize my life and all that.” She slid down to lay on the carpet then. “Here’s to new beginnings!”
It was wrong to jump to conclusions. You knew that; you preached it. But when your heart was beating a little too fast like this, it was hard to not make your imagination run wild. Because obviously, Wonwoo was moving in with her. After only a few months of dating. You knew it shouldn’t come as much as a shock because she was his girlfriend after all, but also you thought maybe – just maybe – this was something he could’ve told you. Even when you both weren’t speaking.
You stood from your desk, smiling politely to each coworker you passed until you got to the bathroom. It was only when you locked yourself in a stall that you felt the devastation hit you. Like an avalanche. Your palms laid flat on both sides of the stall as you stared at your feet, waiting for something to change. But it was just you: calm on the surface with your feelings eating you up inside, swallowing you whole until you were nothing left.
If you didn’t confess, then you’d become a shell. A walking set of bones and muscles. But what if he completely cut you off? What if he was disgusted, absolutely horrified that someone who was supposed to be his friend had been hiding their feelings for ten years? You couldn’t blame him, but you didn’t want to imagine losing him. Not yet.
Friendship without honesty was still a loss. It was time for both of you to be honest with each other.
After a debilitating train ride, you almost reconsidered your plan. But as you stepped onto the platform for the stop closest to Wonwoo’s apartment, looking around at the crowd of people swarming around you, the only way out was in. You couldn’t postpone this to another day; not when you’d been repeating this cycle since college. So you pushed through – past the tired women in blazers that were looking forward to their Friday night glass of wine, past the men on the phone with their partners and assuring them they’d pick up whatever they wanted for dinner – until you got to the stairs and climbed up. You were out of breath by the time you got to the top, lungs burning, and a drizzle was starting to fall, but you sprinted forward into the crowd. Your dying courage would lead you to where you needed to go.
Once you were standing outside his building – newly refurbished a few years ago with a huge garden planted in the front – you began to dig in your work tote for your keys, which still had his fob attached to it. You didn’t use it very often since he was almost always at your place, but it was instances like this that you were grateful to still have it in your possession. Swiping it at the door, you tugged at the handle and stepped inside, pulling off your wet hood as your shoes squeaked all the way to elevator.
Sometimes you wished you had the strength to just move into a nicer building like Wonwoo’s. It wasn’t like you didn’t have the money, but you had just gotten … accustomed to your old place. The heating system was shit and the lack of proper AC sucked in the summer, however … there were a sense peace there that you never experienced anywhere else. That was where you built a home and memories. With Wonwoo.
As the doors opened and you stepped inside, it started to settle in what you were doing. Your heart rate kicked up like a drum, and your nails were pinching tiny crescents in your palms. This was really happening. Why the fuck were you doing this again? Could you really not get through another few years of pushing down these feelings and postpone this all over again? You wanted to, desperately, and you were half tempted to turn around. But your feet had a mind of their own, walking out of the elevator that stopped on the third floor, halting at his door and rapping your fist against it.
You still had time to back out. He might still be on the way home from work. Maybe it was just Mingyu there right now, and he’d keep your secret if you left. If you spun on your heel and already started for the elevator, he wouldn't be able to see you –
The door opened, and there was Wonwoo, blinking at you in surprise. He was running a hand through his combed wet hair, fresh from a shower, with a black t-shirt that was clinging to his slightly damp body and – oh. No matter how old you got, a pair of grey sweatpants would always get to you, especially on him.
Meeting his eyes again, you asked, “Are you busy? Can I come in?”
His lips pursed for a moment, and as much as you knew he wanted to be mad at you, his face softened. “Yeah,” he nodded, holding the door more open, “of course.”
You stepped through the threshold, noticing that his living room was as clean as it would get, something he had gotten sick of you chastising him for so you fought to always keep your mouth shut. Bills and junk mail were scattered on the coffee table, but you noticed – right near the TV – a candle was lit, almost burnt to the bottom. It was the candle you gave him for Christmas last year. The one he said reminded him of you.
Placing your work tote near the door, you didn’t bother sitting down, didn’t even take off your rain jacket. It was just you and him, standing in his living room that was lit with just one candle and an artsy lamp that his roommate had bought. You didn’t hear any rustling anywhere else; Mingyu must not be home.
A smart person – someone wanting forgiveness – would say something simple, like hello. But you didn’t, because clearly this was the stupidest decision of your life.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You blurted, making his brow furrow.
“What are you talking about?”
You gawked at him, and then replied, “Don’t play stupid, Wonwoo.”
He was blinking again, confusion wracking his brain. “I wish I was. I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I saw Harin’s Instagram story.” You paused, suddenly so aware about how childish you sounded. Getting upset over something as silly as Instagram. Your mouth went dry, and when you met his eyes again, you realized he was waiting for you to say more. “About the new apartment.”
“Oh,” he nodded, then thought for a moment. “Wait, she got the apartment?”
Your lips opened for a moment, processing his words. Something was off; were you both talking about the same thing right now? Why would he not know if his girlfriend got the apartment, presumably for the both of them?
“Are you intentionally acting dumb?” You asked, a little more irritable than you should be. He tilted his head and your hands balled into fists, standing up straighter. “Because if you keep doing this, I’m going to start crying again and I’m already so high strung and I haven’t slept and I’m confused –”
Wonwoo stepped closer then, his face losing every hint of anger towards you. He wasn’t really angry; he could never be that angry at you. His large hand circled around your arm, and you could feel the caress of his thumb running up and down even though the thin layer of your rain jacket. “Hey, take a breath,” he insisted in a soft voice. “Everything is okay.”
You inhaled sharply, and then let it out. Your gaze was practically glued to his as you felt every wall that was ever created inside you crumble. Originally, you assumed there was just one, tall as the eye could see, made of bricks. But there were actually several walls, and when your eyes connected with his, you could practically feel them collapsing in your stomach, one after the other.
“It’s not though,” you finally said. “And it pisses me off that you’re still so calm about this.”
His hand slowly left your arm. “About what?”
“About you and Harin moving in together!”
Wonwoo went silent, brows drawn together, and then he muttered, “Oh, that’s what this is about?”
“What else would it be about?!”
“Harin and I aren’t moving in together.”
You blanked. “Excuse me.”
“We actually aren’t …” He looked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. Your brow shot up to your hairline. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Oh, I …” You shook your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been in my head for days. I shouldn’t have assumed –”
He mimicked your movements, and now you were both shaking your heads at each other like bobble heads in a toy shop. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s just –” He exhaled heavily, and now it was your turn to grab his arm. You watched his body physically relax under the heat of your palm, his eyes fluttering down to burn into yours. “I broke up with her two weeks ago. She wanted to me to partially move in with her to see if our lives were compatible. We’d only been together a little under two months and I wasn’t ready. Obviously,” he added, gesturing to the state of his shared apartment.
You squeezed his forearm, and maybe you were just imagining it, but you swore you could feel his pulse quicken.
“I don’t think I would ever be ready. Because I’ve never …” He paused, and if he didn’t continue, you were sure that your courage would vanish. “I’ve never gotten over you.”
The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your voice so small when you replied, “What? Ever since –”
“Sophomore year.”
Your grip slipped from his arm. “But I thought you … you had never met anyone worth the effort?”
Wonwoo leveled a look at you, like he’d been completely obvious all along. “You have never been just anyone. I thought you knew that.”
You scoffed, acting so nonchalant as if you both weren’t confessing to every feeling you ever had for each other. “Of course, I didn’t know. I’ve been setting you up on dates because I thought if I fixed your love life …” You feigned a laugh as your hand came up to your mouth. “Maybe it wouldn’t blindside me. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much when you really fell in love with someone. And of course, I was very wrong about that one.” Swallowing hard, your fingers were now lacing with his, placing your heart in his careful hands. “You deserve someone great, Wonwoo. Someone who doesn’t push her friend away because she’s in love with him.”
And just like that, they were out of your system. The words flowed off your tongue so easily too, like he was always supposed to know. Like you were meant to tell him all those years ago.
His voice was so low that it almost sounded like a breath: “You’re in love with me?”
“You’ve never been just anyone either, Wonwoo,” you sighed.
He shook his head. “But I thought … I thought you said … you said we would ruin everything if we tried.”
“I was terrified. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship when it just started, and then years went on and … nothing ever went away. I thought about you all the time.”
Wonwoo took a moment, relishing in the feel of your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. He finally brought your laced fingers up, his nose brushing against your wrist as he breathed in your scent. You smelled like that perfume he loved, and paper, and rainwater – everything he loved about you and more. Because he loved you. Of course, he loved you, and you could see it in his eyes, and now you were wondering how you survived being this blind for so long.
“I thought I lost my chance years ago,” he murmured, his naturally long lashes sweeping against your skin. “I thought you truly wanted me with someone else.”
You realized then that your face had moved closer to his without knowing, wanting to be more in his orbit. You couldn’t remember the last time you both were this close. “I thought I did, but …” Your top teeth sunk into your bottom lip. “I don’t think that’s true anymore. And I’ve been sick to my fucking stomach because all I’ve wanted to do is be honest, but there was never a good moment or the right words.”
His chest was pressing against yours now and your fingers unlaced, only so he could hold your face in his warm palms. He shushed you, already seeing the tears prick at your eyes when you got too worked up, wiping them away with his thumbs. “Come on now. You’ve always known the right words to say,” he smiled, and you felt your mouth wobble at just how good he was. You had been an ass to him, you had hid these feelings for years, and yet … he always let you in. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be honest too. Every time I had a bad date, I thought it was proof that wanting you was useless. So I opened myself up, because I thought Harin might just be it. But she wasn’t you.”
His thumb traced your lip, making you release it from in between your teeth. “No one’s like you.”
You did your best not to cry again. All those years of blocking the tears were catching up to you. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” you muttered. “I should’ve been honest. I should’ve told you. But I guess you can still be a coward even at our age.”
“You’re not a coward,” he laughed. His finger swiped down the slope of your nose, as if he was committing every bit to memory. “I’m sorry for what I said on the phone. You were right – I did get caught up in the relationship, but I was trying to so I would forget about my feelings for you. I didn’t mean any of it. I like that you fix people.”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Okay, maybe I don’t,” he confessed, and then his lips pulled into a smug grin, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. “Sometimes I like when you micromanage me though.”
The shock that this was all happening hit you, practically struck you like lightening. You stuttered out a series of incomprehensible words, until you finally asked, “Really?” All the confidence, bitterness, it seeped out of you when Wonwoo’s lips were this close to yours. “Well, I … maybe I could –”
“Finally let me kiss you?”
“Oh.” The tension in your body faded, and your hands were curling around his neck because this was happening and he was oh, so yours. “I mean … I guess that’s fine.”
He sneered, “Always needing the last word –”
Your mouth crashed onto his and it felt – god, nothing was more right than this. Your first kiss in college had been messy, almost clumsy, two young adults trying to figure out what the other liked, but Wonwoo had been a quick learner. And oh, did he remember. He didn’t forget the way you liked your bottom lip being sucked on, or how your breath hitched when he licked inside your mouth. His hand slipped from your cheeks, down your torso, before resting on your hips and pulling you even closer by your belt loops. Your fingers were tracing his shoulder blades through the fabric of his tee, an area you didn’t realize until now made him kiss you harder.
“Mingyu’s not home,” he breathed against your lips, shucking your rain jacket off your shoulders.
“I don’t care either way,” you quipped, more desperate than you realized, because you had already started shoving him to the right, where his room was located. Your mouths a hairsbreadth apart, you asked, “Do you still know how to do that thing with your tongue?”
He pulled back with confusion when his spine hit the door of his bedroom, and then realization crossed his features. “Oh, that. I might be out of practice. You were the first person I ever went down on and –”
You raised a brow, causing him to smirk. “It would be an honor,” he replied.
Once his bedroom door closed, the goofiness cleared out of him and his hands were tight, all over you like this was your first time all over again. He had your back pressed against the door, your wrists in his firm grip and pinned over your head. You chased his lips as he went from kissing you soft to hard, making you huff because – Jesus, you really were starved for his attention. Tugging on your bottom lip, he released it and let his mouth trail near your jaw, breathing in that deadly perfume again. The same one that didn’t cease to make him hard.
And you felt it. Right against your leg, heat seeping into your slacks. Was he not wearing any underwear?
“In case I didn’t say it already,” he muttered, his nose now connecting with yours, one palm sliding down to thumb at your nipple over your blouse. “I’m in love with you too.” His teeth skimmed your jaw again, then your collarbone, sucking hard on a particular spot and you felt like you could maybe cum untouched. This was pathetic, being reduced to nothing at your big age from just a hickey.
“I’ve been dreaming of the day you’d let me in,” he hummed, squeezing your breast and feeling the weight in his palm, “when you’d let me touch you again.”
Your knee nudged in between your bodies, smoothing over the growing bulge in his sweatpants. “Wonwoo, please,” you whimpered, already feeling the warmth pool in your stomach, panties drenched and desperate for anything.
“Are you gonna let me micromanage you now?”
Your eyes snapped open, lips pursing as you processed his dirty talk. A snort escape you, and he lifted his head to look at you from underneath his messy, wet hair. His cheeks were tinged a pale pink. “Sorry,” you giggled.
“It sounded sexier in my head,” he muttered, releasing your wrists so he could use that hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want to … right? I think I have condoms somewhere. If not, I’ll steal one from Mingyu. I’ve seen his dick once. Accidentally. We’re kind of similar –”
You placed a hand over his mouth to get him to quiet. “This is the most you’ve talked about your roommate and I’d rather not think about him before you fuck me.” Letting your hand fall, you played with the hem of his t-shirt, fingers now splaying on his lower abdomen. His skin was hot to the touch, still a little damp from his shower. “Don’t worry about it – I’m still on the pill. Hormonal acne and all that.”
Now your cheeks were pink, embarrassment creeping through your entire body. But Wonwoo was quick, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip again, and you relaxed by pulling him closer with the ties of his sweatpants. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth, “always have been.”
Before you could catch your breath, he was picking you up and laying you down on his bed. You landed on top of the remote, making the TV flicker to life, and the soft sounds of When Harry Met Sally filled the room. But Wonwoo was too distracted to notice, one knee between your legs and nudging them apart as his mouth descended upon yours again. He kissed you breathless, like you were the only thing that mattered, like he’d be content if you were the only person he could kiss forever. And when he lifted his head, half-lidded eyes burning into yours – you knew it was true. He didn’t even half to say it.
Sitting up slightly, his deft fingers slowly started unbuttoning the puffy-sleeved blouse you wore to work today. (Which you definitely didn’t expect him to be taking off when you dressed yourself this morning.) When all the buttons were free, he paused, simply admiring the view of your exposed stomach, the curve of your breasts nestled in your bra. You almost wished you wore something cuter, but how the hell were you supposed to know this was going to happen? You grabbed his hand, calling out his name in a voice that he had only heard in his deepest fantasies.
“Sorry, I just …” He finally pushed the fabric to the side, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. As his hand came around to unhook your bra, he continued, “I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long. It doesn’t seem real.”
You realized then … that night in his dorm – you hadn’t taken your t-shirt off. Anxiety had riddled your head, too scared of him seeing all of you. Although you had let him between your legs, being fully nude was different. That was true vulnerability, and you hadn’t been ready for that.
Until now. You shrugged off the bra, letting it fall onto his floor, and laid back.
He was looking at you like he’d seen God.
So you took his hand in yours and placed it on one of your breasts. “Fucking Christ,” he muttered, leaning down and wrapping his lips around one nipple. Your back arched off the sheets – purple, the same ones you bought him when he moved here – moaning softly while he played with the other nipple in his right hand. The weight of them was out of this world; all his perverted fantasies when he saw you in low-cut tops coming to life in this very moment. Every time he felt guilty for staring at you too long – they didn’t matter anymore. Because you had wanted this just as much as him.
“God,” he huffed, mouth dragging over to the other nipple, laving his tongue over it. “You’re a dream come true.”
Maybe he was just in love but the sounds you made were practically pornographic. Your hips bucked against his knee in between your legs, begging for friction. You could already feel your own arousal through your slacks – a mortifying cleanup you’d fret on tomorrow morning. As much as he wanted to play here forever, he knew how much you wanted his tongue inside you, so he relented.
His gaze on yours, Wonwoo peppered kisses down your stomach, making sure to nip at that beauty mark near your belly button, before he stood tall again. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, you were reminded just how toned he had gotten since college. You had never like a hulking, strong man, but Wonwoo had definition, hidden muscles in his biceps that had gotten bigger than you thought. He hid all this underneath those oversized tees, the sweaters he wore to work everyday. It was like he crafted in a lab specifically for you, nerdy interests and all.
Setting his glasses on his desk, he finally pulled down on the zipper of your trousers, and you both worked together to shimmy yourself out of them. But you almost wished you didn’t, because underneath those slacks was the evidence of just how much you wanted this, how utterly wet you were for him.
Wonwoo leaned over you again, so close to your face that you could see the lines underneath his eyes. “You’re completely soaked,” he murmured, snaking a hand between your bodies to graze two fingers down your clothed slit. The material of your panties was practically translucent, and your hips bucked immediately. “Needed me that bad, huh?”
“Don’t act so smug –” You barked, until you felt it: one finger pushing the fabric to the side while the other just barely prodded at your entrance. Breath hitched, you whimpered, “Yes.”
He smirked, going back down and kneeling at the foot of his bed. Pulling your panties off slowly, you expected him to take his time, even though you had both been waiting for this longer than you could remember. A yelp escaped your lips when he hauled you forward, and you felt his hot breath there, making you clench around nothing. One ankle rested on his left shoulder, opening yourself up to him, and you were pushing back hair from his forehead when you realized he was inhaling your scent. Your breathing stuttered, barely able to get out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t shave –”
His face was already buried between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth like candy. Your head thrashed to the side, fingers digging into his hair and you yanked at him – hard. He groaned into you, teasing your wet hole with the tip of his tongue, devouring you whole. Everything about you was intoxicating: your taste, your sounds, even the way you pulled at his hair. It felt like you were actually trying to rip it out, and truthfully, that was a fate he’d risk if it meant he could stay here forever. Between your thighs, lapping at you until you were overstimulated and begging him to stop.
Your hips were now bucking against his face, free hand clenched at your side, as you lost yourself in the magic of Wonwoo’s tongue. The memory of how good this was in college diminished to nothing in that moment. He was out of practice and yet, this was the best you had felt in a long time. Wonwoo had this way of sucking on your clit before tongue-fucking you like it was out of style, and then repeating those steps all over again, sometimes using his nose to play with your clit in between. You yanked on his hair again, bringing him that much closer as you moaned, “Wonwoo.”
“Harder.”
“What?” Your head lifted.
His eyes met yours from the end of the bed. Mouth just barely leaving your pussy, he demanded, “Pull my hair harder.”
He didn’t give you a second to respond, already diving back into you. His mouth wrapped around your clit and you yanked on his hair as hard as you could and – the groan he let out reverberated through your entire body, making your nipples hard all over again. You felt that tip of his finger again – no, it was two – sliding into you and nestled in that place only he would remember. Because Wonwoo was attentive. Wonwoo remembered. He knew that the best way to get you there was tugging your clit between his teeth while he crooked those two fingers against a spot that made your thighs shake.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pumping his fingers into you. “You’re so tight.”
You pulled on his hair, making him press his erection against the bed frame. “It’s been a while.”
He was looking up at you again, noticing the way your jaw clenched, and he clarified, “That doesn’t matter to me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. A name you never thought you’d hear from his lips. You clenched around his fingers, sucking them more in.
“You close?” He asked, going in to drag his tongue through you. “Want me to edge you?”
You scoffed. “You know I don’t like that.”
He chuckled, slipping his fingers out to lick them clean. “Maybe next time.”
A snarky reply was on the tip of your tongue until his tongue was circling that swollen bundle of nerves. Three fingers were now stuffed inside you, sliding in and out while curling against that – “Yes, right there” – spot. If you felt this full with his fingers … you couldn’t even remember what his cock felt like. Your breathing was already uneven and he was moaning while sucking on your clit and – oh. Your orgasm crested and you were pulling on his hair so much that you were sure there’d be a funny, little bald patch after. His name fell from your lips and he kept licking you through it, grinding his achingly hard cock against the bed.
Despite his own greed, Wonwoo pulled away when your ankle relaxed on his shoulder once again. You already looked so fucked out on his bed: chest heaving, sweat dotting your hairline. This was something out of a dream, one that he had many times, leaving him waking up hard until he fisted his cock to completion. Your arousal dripped down his chin and he hardly made an effort to clean it up, instead crawling up on the bed and kissing you breathless, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands had other plans though. One tugged on the ties at his waistband, while the other slipped under it, finding his erection so easily. No underwear, just like you assumed.He was throbbing, precum staining the thick fabric of his sweatpants, and you trailed a digit along the base. “Since when do you not wear underwear, you pervert?” You laughed against his mouth.
You felt him smile against yours. “In my defense,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I didn’t exactly expect anyone would be coming over.”
“What about Mingyu?” You squeezed at the middle of his shaft, earning a grunt from him.
“I thought we were done talking about my roommate before I fuck you.”
Your nose wrinkled. “Touché.”
He sat up on his knees between your legs, allowing you to help him pull his cock out. Wait. Was he always this big? That night in college was clearly a blur because this was not what you expected. The trail of dark hair that led to his groin didn’t surprise you – he had always been on the hairier side, too lazy to shave even his fingers – it was the whole package. His cock was long, thicker than you remembered, that dark hair trailing all the way down to the base and scattered around his balls. He had just two veins etched towards a flared pink tip, dripping more precum onto his sweats that were hanging just under his ass.
You didn’t even bother having him kick them off, wrapping your hand around his shaft again and slowly dragging it up, his whole body tense as he held himself back. He almost fell forward, but then braced one of his long arms by his hip to steady himself. “This is – fuck –” He muttered when you squeezed him at the tip. “This is evil.”
“I’m micromanaging.” You grinned, your finger leisurely tracing the vein on the right side of his shaft, making his knees buckle.
He laughed under his breath. “You have no idea –” His jaw shifted when you started pumping him a little faster. “– How many times I thought about this.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he choked out. “Felt so guilty after I jerked off – fuck – but nothing got me hard like the thought of you. And then, there were the dreams –”
Your hand paused at the base. “Wait, you’re being serious?” You asked, and his eyes flashed open, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. Then, you confessed, “I had dreams about you too. Touched myself and imagined it was you. For years.”
“Oh, my god.” His head fell into your shoulder, as if this revelation was physically painful. Or maybe it was because your grip was squeezing him a little too well. “If we don’t finally have sex, I think I might cum.”
You chuckled, louder than you expected, placing your free hand over your mouth. But he removed it as your other palm slipped from his cock, muttering something about how much he loved the way you laughed, but your heart was pounding too much to hear it. Hooking one of your legs around his waist, he gripped his cock and guided it forward, nudging your entrance. His eyes lifted to yours, darker than you’ve ever seen.
“Tell me how much you want it,” he muttered, but his tone suggested that it was more of a demand. “How much you want me inside you.”
Your brow lifted. “Don’t be silly. I thought we were on a time crunch here.”
Now his brows were shooting to his hairline. “So you don’t want it?”
“Wonwoo, stop playing around –”
You hadn’t even realized until you felt it: his hand leaving his cock to rub slow circles on your already sensitive clit. Legs parting even more, you whined and you almost didn’t recognize your own voice. “What was that again?” He smirked, pinching your clit in a way that made your toes curl.
“Jesus, okay – I want it so bad,” you moaned, eyes closed as you surrendered to his touch. “Wonwoo, please – just … Oh, my god – please, fuck me. I think I might go fucking crazy if you’re not inside me in the next ten seconds –”
He pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt. You almost cried from the stretch. It was more than you expected, but you now realized that maybe you should stop having expectations with Wonwoo. He groaned, still rubbing your clit to get you to loosen up more, while hiking your right leg on his waist higher. Savoring the feeling of finally being inside you again, he peppered kisses on your cheek, humming against your skin, “You feel so good, sweetheart,” and, “my best girl, my sweetest girl.”
“It’s so – too much, Wonwoo,” you mewled, even though you suddenly didn’t want to imagine a second without him stuffed inside you like this. So full, so deep – you wondered if you’d feel him the next day.
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he cooed, tilting his head to graze his lips over yours. “I know you’re tight, but you can take it, right?”
He leaned back slightly to look in your eyes, wiped the tears that threatened to fall, and you nodded.
“Good girl,” he muttered before pulling all the way out. You didn’t even have a moment to catch you breath before he was slamming back in, his jaw unhinging at just how good you felt.
This was different than that time in his dorm. You were both older, not all that wiser, but there was purpose here. He created a rhythm between you two that had you feeling every vein, every fucking ridge, and you were now wondering who taught Wonwoo to fuck like this. Because it surely hadn’t been you. Or maybe this was just a case of his memory again, because it only took him a few deep thrusts to find the perfect angle that brushed your g-spot, causing your legs to jerk upward. He caught your right thigh before it fell, and then bullied his cock back into you as stars flashed in your vision.
Your arms wound around his neck, fingers raking at the nape of his neck, and then pulling, just the way he liked it. “Fuck –” He groaned, his warm breath mingling with yours. “Missed you so much. Missed being inside you. God –”
The discomfort subsided, as if your pussy had molded itself to the shape of his cock, and it was then that you realized that you never wanted to fuck anyone besides Wonwoo for the rest of your life. You had ten years to have your fun, but this – he punctuated your thought with a hard thrust that made your whole body tremble – was it. You didn’t need anyone else, didn’t want anyone else.
Just Wonwoo.
You whined out his name, yanking on his hair as he filled you to the brim over and over again. His fingers – those long, fucking fingers – tweaked your nipples just right, and your back arched into him. “Please, don’t stop,” you begged, catching his lip between your teeth for a moment. “Close. So close. Wanna cum with you.”
“I’ll get you there, sweetheart,” he promised, making that warmth in your gut pool even more. If he didn’t get you over that peak soon, you were going to lose it. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
It was almost funny: the lewd sounds of him fucking into you mixing with Billy Crystal reciting the most devastating monologue known to man as When Harry Met Sally continued on his TV. Your focus shifted when his fingers gave one last pinch to your nipple before dragging down, down, down – all the way until his thumb was rubbing circles on your aching bud again. Harder this time. Like the way you pulled his hair. His digits were harsh, eager to feel you tighten around his cock. He wasn’t even fucking into you anymore; he was buried so deep that you felt him everywhere.
But then it happened: your walls clamping around him, your breathing stifled, and he was trying to fight the urge of cumming himself to praise you. “That’s it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You whimpered his name, orgasm crashing over you, and he was still rubbing your clit. “There you go. I got you, sweetheart.”
Your whole body was shaking, and it felt almost religious coming undone for him like this. Like it was written in the stars, or maybe your own obliviousness. It felt like every good memory led to this: the best orgasm of your life with the man you’d been in love with since you were 20.
When he felt your walls start to unclench the slightest bit, that was his cue to move again. He pulled out, and then pushed back in so deep that it felt like you were cumming all over again. Fucking into you like this would become an addiction, he just knew it, because when he finally chased his high and practically cried against your mouth, there was no other feeling like it. The way you held onto him, sucking him back in like a vice, as he fucked his release back into you – maybe you were made for him all this time.
All those years depriving himself of this left him desperate and enamored. He was already going soft but he was still pushing into you, not letting any of his seed escape, and you were clenching yet again, cumming all over his cock like it was the only thing you knew how to do. In all honesty, Wonwoo was tempted to keep going, but when he saw the way your body was damn near shivering in his arms, he decided that it was probably not the smartest to overstimulate you during the first time in so long.
He waited almost a decade for you. He could make up for lost time eventually.
Collapsing on top of you, he kissed you softly, feeling you smile into it. Even though him slipping out of you felt empty after all that, you were almost grateful for the reprieve. His soft cock pressed against your thigh, but he stayed there, on top of you, kissing you like you two were 80 and had been doing this all your lives. You hoped that could be your future after all. Because when he leaned back slightly and your hand came to rest on his jaw, you saw the kind of love you secretly always wanted: the kind that would span years, reincarnated in different people.
Wonwoo rolled onto his back, pulling the waistband of his sweatpants back up before relaxing against the pillows. You curled into his side and he picked up the forgotten remote, seeing the credits run across the small TV at the foot of his bed. “Shit, we missed all of the movie,” he joked.
You chuckled, arm circling around his middle as he tugged a sheet over you. “We can rewind.”
VIII.
You are where all roads lead back to. Parts of you exist in everything I’ve ever loved. –UNKNOWN
You had never been one for morning sex. Always preferred to wake up without distractions and get to your day as soon as possible. Wonwoo might change that though.
After realizing that it was a Friday night and the both of you had no plans the next day, he obviously had to twist your arm to stay over. You had come to his apartment with no plan, just the tote bag you brought to the office everyday and your rain jacket, so you mildly freaked at the idea of staying over without your favorite toothpaste or facial cleanser, only to find out that Wonwoo kept them stocked just in case. Like he was waiting for the day you slept over again. Except it was different this time, because you were dozing off in his arms as he whispered, “I love you,” and your smitten ass was saying it back.
Waking up to his chest against your back, hard cock pressed into your asscheek, as his hand snaked around to your front to dip his fingers between your legs wasn’t exactly what you imagined, but you liked it. Far more than you ever realized. And you supposed that maybe you secretly wanted this to happen because you did fall asleep in just his t-shirt. (Who’s to say?) It wasn’t long before he was having you cum on his fingers, prying your legs open with his own so he could fuck you on your side like this. Your head had turned to meet his lips from over your shoulder and – oh, absolutely nothing was better than this.
Once you were both spent, he let you fall back asleep – something you never did. You were typically an early riser, never once allowing yourself to sleep in and waste the day. He knew this already, which meant he had to physically tuck you back in under his duvet so you would make yourself comfortable again. “Just relax for once,” he chuckled before pecking your cheek. “Give yourself another hour. I’ll have Mingyu whip us up something.”
“Oh, good,” you replied sleepily, cheek flush with his pillow, “I thought you were going to cook and burn the kitchen down.”
He flicked your nose. “Funny.”
When you rolled out of bed an hour later, you chose to look decent and pulled on a pair of his clean boxers. You looked ridiculous, covered head to toe in Wonwoo, and even though he had let you borrow his clothes before, this felt special. What’s his was also yours now.
You ran a hand through your tangled mess of hair and tugged it through a scrunchie, padding out into the common area. Mingyu was already gone, probably off to his restaurant, and left Wonwoo some bills to go food shopping later. You crossed the threshold of the kitchen and paused, admiring Wonwoo. He was humming to himself while placing a pod in the Keurig, another steaming mug already waiting for you at his small dining table. You always thought he was handsome, but there was something about his hair sticking up in different directions, the way his sweatpants hung loose on his waist, his glasses sitting crooked on his nose … it did something to you. Nothing was more perfect than Jeon Wonwoo in the morning.
“Is this for me?” You asked, pointing to the mug on the table, and he didn’t even jump at the sound of your voice. As if he expected you there all along.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m almost done with mine, and Mingyu cooked us up some of those fluffy eggs with veggies. The ones you like.”
Sitting down at the table, you crossed one leg underneath the other and took a hefty sip. It was bitter and dark – just the way you liked it. Wonwoo joined you at the table after pouring a splash of milk in his mug, and you both sat there for a moment, perfectly at peace with the silence. It reminded you of that morning – after the first and only hookup – how your knees just barely brushed and the open windows that smelled of fresh flowers, like spring in bloom. Except this time, the weight of liking him didn’t feel like a curse. There were no final exams to worry about. And Wonwoo was now reaching out his hand: still hesitant, but certain. It was a declaration.
An origin wound now healed.
You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “We really are terrible at casual,” you mused, “which is why I really want to try this time.”
Wonwoo brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. His voice was almost cinematic as he replied, “Me too.”
SUMMARY: Your nephew won’t stop complaining about his strict superior at work. What you weren’t expecting was that said superior happens to be your hottest hookup, the one you had a one-night stand with. Did you like it? Obviously, yes. But morally? You should’ve buried yourself in dearth at this point.
PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
GENRE: drama, comedy, fluff, smut, oneshot
WARNINGS: suggestive content (MDNI), dirty talk, strong language, mildly toxic family (mentioned), one-night stand, attempted quickie, sexual tension, heated kissing, homoerotic cuz i can, dick jokes (im sorry), bantering, arguing (in a fun way), little angst hinted about parents' separation.
WC: 12.5k
ADD TAGS❦︎: cafe owner! reader, pr specialist! wonwoo, kim sunoo as your nephew, wonwoo is a jerk but a hot one, barista! boochan, reader is kind of a fujoshi (this was supposed to be a joke), domestic fluff if you squint, invisible string theory hinted, co-enemies to lovers, they're both idiots, teacher! jeonghan mentioned, i do think i am hilarious, roommate! mingyu, hot n cold dynamic, strangers to lovers, secret relationships, this was probably a bad idea.
a/n: hi. we are sooo back in this diamond crack.
The fact that you’re legally an adult is hysterical. If people asked whether you’re an adult, you’d say “yeah”, but not with confidence or anything.
People always say, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” You’ve heard that a ton, but your eyes are fixed on that one specific, emotionally distant salmon commitment issues, mommy issues, and absolutely no idea how to function like a normal human being.
There’s plenty of fish in the sea, but you know what else is there? Trash. There is a lot of trash in the sea. You even switched out your plastic straws for one-hundred per cent plant-based, edible rice straws made from rice, tapioca, and cornstarch. They’re designed to be sustainable, turtle-friendly, and technically safe to eat. It was often described as having a neutral, pasta-like texture. They were a popular eco-friendly alternative to plastic, even though some people complained that they got soggy in drinks.
You like to think that you have saved the turtles. Maybe even the ocean.
Unfortunately, that still doesn’t stop people especially at family gatherings from bringing up marriage every chance they get. You were perfectly fine living like this. You run your own cafe. You’ve got a side hustle as a web novel writer and webcomic creator though of course they don’t know that.
Your single life has been nothing but peaceful. In this century, it’s a choice. But that doesn’t matter when your relatives keep asking when it’ll be your turn, especially at someone else’s wedding. God forbid a woman enjoys her life without a partner.
They love to hint, no—insist that you’ll end up lonely, growing old like some miserable hag.
Puh-lease. You’ll never be intimidated by people with no class. What are they going to do? Gossip about you with their equally insecure, trashy little circle?
You don’t care. You’d rather die than get married. At least you won’t end up as some miserable wife stuck with a douchebag husband and his broken ass.
The only thing that kept you alive and sane was none other than your beloved nephew, your very first one. Oh, the things you would do for him. You still remember the first time you held him, just a newborn, tiny in your arms. That was the moment you became an aunt at the age of seventeen.
Now, he’s all grown up, living like a proper young adult. Still, you can’t help but see him as a kid. Not that you mind, considering you once gaslit eight-year-old Sunoo into believing he was six just so he could get freebies at a diner when you first babysat him.
“You look like you’re about to cry,” you said, wiping a glass as you watched your twenty three-years-old nephew clutch his head, face buried against the counter.
“Give my regards to the devil,” he sighed, rolling his eyes in exhaustion.
“I will.”
Sunoo groaned again, downing another shot of espresso you had made earlier. That was probably his third cup. You gently took it away from him, earning a frown.
“Oh, come on. I didn’t raise you to be a quitter,” you said, sliding a glass of water toward him instead. “I raised a burnt-out perfectionist who occasionally gets bludgeoned into settling for mediocrity.”
Your nephew stared at you incredulously. Sometimes he wondered if he was even related to you. But in the end, he’d take you over his nosy, borderline-stranger aunties who wanted a full autobiography of his achievements. He still didn’t understand why his mom, your sister had trusted you to raise him all these years, well into adulthood.
“Okay, I’ve experienced academic validation, and I’ve experienced academic downfall, and I highly recommend being born into generational wealth—”
“It’s not about that,” he cut you off. “It’s my superior. He’s… I don’t know. Everything about him is just so cranky.”
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as you continued stacking cups. “Is he a bully or something?”
“Not exactly. He’s just… kind of mean. Well—he’s just that good at his job.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“That is the problem,” he confirmed.
He continued, “He’s so good at what he does that it stresses everyone out on the planning team. If something goes wrong, he gets intensely serious about it—like, terrifyingly committed.”
There was a brief silence as you listened to your nephew ramble. This was probably just a moment of weakness. He likely just needed to vent.
“No one likes him,” he scoffed, taking a sip of water. “In fact, I don’t think he likes people at all. He probably hates himself too.”
He sighed again. “I made it through the day without throwing a chair at anyone, but this coffee tastes more bitter than usual.” He clicked his tongue. “Probably because I carried his bitterness all the way here.”
After a moment, you looked up at him.
“Feeling better now?
“Yeah,” he finally exhaled.
You’d think his toxic trait was believing another cup of coffee could solve literally anything. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was just being dramatic, but considering this was his second week complaining about his “toxic” workdays, you hoped it was only one insufferable person making him miserable, and not HR tearing him apart. Senior colleagues could be worse. You just hoped he wasn’t being bullied.
You, on the other hand, could drink three cups of coffee and go straight to sleep, one of many things fundamentally wrong with you as a person. In your defense, you buried those bad habits back in university. You’re a changed woman now. At your age, you just wish people would stop asking about your likes and dislikes. It gets old—those endless, generic questions on dates.
You like money and food. You dislike not having money and being hungry.
Please. Don’t add more stress to your life.
Adulting is hard, but it’s okay. At least you don’t need to prove and explain why a triangle is a triangle anymore.
Nobody is busier than someone who isn’t interested in you. And when you say, “I’ll figure it out,” it usually just means you’ll adapt to whatever new level of hell is coming next. You either juggle five tasks at once or stare at a wall, wondering what scene to write for your next update, there is no in-between.
You know you’re hot, but you’re also aware you’re not a full-time hot person. You’re hot when you want to be, depending on the mood. You choose your own hours, make your own schedule. Honestly, it’s freelance hotness.
Just because you live like this doesn’t mean your life is boring. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of hookups—but they’re rare.
Today, however, is different. You went to your usual bar—Velvet Ruby. Mostly because the owner, Jihoon (as you’ve come to learn), is annoyingly attractive. You’re not even utterly shameless at that, the first time you met him (that time you haven’t yet to know he was the owner), throwing flirts here and there, you were tipsy, okay? Still, he finds it amusing despite himself. You usually prefer someone taller than you, but somehow, he still caught your attention.
Tonight, though, you were determined. You wanted a distraction. A release.
The only problem? You’d been sitting there for almost an hour. You were practically waiting for a main character’s entrance, but it seemed the owner had better things to do. Swirling your glass, you watched the wine move lazily inside it, your fingers brushing through your hair as you leaned your cheek against your palm, and then you noticed him.
Sitting right beside you.
You didn’t even try to hide the way your gaze lingered on his side profile. The sharp nose, the way his lips brushed against the rim of his glass as he took a sip of whiskey. His sweater was pushed just enough to reveal his forearms, the fabric stretching slightly. You could tell he was well-built underneath. His veiny hands, steady as he held the glass with ease, a watch sitting perfectly on his wrist.
God.
You really wanted him so bad.
As a matter of fact, you even dressed up for tonight—something chic, something that worked both at your cafe and for this. Chan, one of your employees, kept staring earlier. You didn’t say anything out loud, but you did threaten to cut his pay if he kept slacking off.
You feel sexy today, feel good and confident. There was no way you were wasting this night.
As if sensing your stare, the man suddenly turned toward you. His eyes narrowed slightly, not threatening, just… observant. His gaze lingered, taking you in without shame.
Jackpot.
Honestly, you don’t care. You were convinced you could hold your liquor pretty well, but you only lived once. You didn’t look away. Instead, you offered a soft smile, teasing as you leaned your chin on your palm, crossing your legs.
“Do you know what bees make?” you asked casually.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly making sure you were talking to him. There was a pause before he answered, humoring you.
“Honey?”
You smiled wider. “Yes, dear?”
A soft chuckle left your lips, you were definitely tipsy now. He looked amused, the corner of his mouth lifting as he took another sip, his gaze still on you appreciatively, unhidden.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.
Your lips curved in quiet victory.
Got him.
...
It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall into easy conversation. The small talk here and there, laughter slipping in between. One thing led to another. You have learned that his name is Wonwoo. He mentioned something about work, some company but you barely processed it, too distracted by his deep voice and the way his cologne lingered in the air.
By the time you reached the hotel, neither of you had the patience to pretend otherwise. The door barely closed before he pulled you close again, lips finding yours in a kiss that was far from hesitant. His coat was gone in seconds, yours not long after as you were guided back with your breath catching and thoughts slipping.
His touch was warm, firm, leaving a trail that made it harder to think straight. Your head tilted instinctively, giving him more space, more access, your fingers gripping onto him as the moment blurred into something hazy and overwhelming.
A quiet sound escaped you, your mind already spinning, senses dulled except for him.
You stumbled toward the bed, everything felt so messy and impatient. Both of your clothes were scattered somewhere on the floor. It was clear that you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and you never felt so turned on right now. Maybe it’s been a while since you have felt this good.
Straddling him, you leaned down, kissing him again with intense neediness. Wonwoo grunts into the kiss, chuckling softly against your lips at how impatient you are, clumsily pressing on him. He kisses you back fiercely, his tongue delving into your mouth to stroke along yours, gripping your hips tightly. He grinds up against your core, large hands sliding up your bare back, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pulls you flush against his muscular chest. He didn’t forget to lavish your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, teeth grazing your pulse point as he bucks his hips up sharply.
You let out a soft sigh and moan at how intense it feels, catching your breath as your hands come up to grip his soft locks. Your hips instinctively grind on him, rolling your hips down as you feel the thick length of his cock rubbing against your slick folds through the thin fabric of your panties.
A low groan tore from his throat at the feeling, his grip on your hips tightening. He slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing the plush globes roughly as he grinds up against you—meeting your slow, sensual movements. “You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” He murmurs, leaning up to capture your lips in a deep sensual kiss. Drowning in his own needs, he tore your panties away and didn’t hesitate to put the tip of his cock inside your bare cunt.
The sensation itself had left your mouth hanging open, trying to catch yourself at how amazing it feels like. Your grip on him tightened as you slowly sinked yourself down on his dick, mewling at the way he’s stretching you out. “F-fuck—Wonwoo…” you whimper out softly as you started to move your hips.
Wonwoo let out a low guttural moan as your tight walls clenched down around him like vice, gripping his throbbing shaft so deliciously. He literally needed to pause for a moment, savouring the incredible feeling of being fully sheathed inside you before he started to move. “Fuck, baby… so fucking tight.” He murmurs, looking up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. You start to roll your hips, working yourself on his thick length. “That’s it—just like that… nice and slow.” Hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds and kneading the flesh as he watches your face intently. Taking in every little flicker of emotion and pleasure that crosses your features.
He growls, feeling your pussy clench and squeeze around his pistoning length. God, even his voice is so damn hot, your mind was too drowned by how sexy he was until you felt a sharp slap on your ass, making you squeal. “Ride me harder, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.” Wonwoo leans up to bite at your neck, sucking a dark hickey into your skin as he feels your movements turning more desperate and needy.
You started to bounce on his cock with increasing fervour, your ass smacking against his balls with each downward grind. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes obscenely in the room, spurring him on to fuck into you even harder and deeper.
Your knees tremble on either side of him, digging the sheet for support. Nails digging further into his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not with the way you’re writhing and mewling so sweetly above him. Your cunt milking his cock for all it’s worth.
And it’s so fucking hot.
Wonwoo slams up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses and throbs inside your spasming cunt, throwing his head back with a loud groan rumbling from his chest at his release. You moaned out loud too, mouth hanging as you held him tight. The feeling of his release seems to trigger your own, and you feel your body stiffening beneath him as your climax crashes over you.
With one last shuddering breath, he finally pulled back, taking in your blissed-out expression with a satisfied smirk. He peppered soft kisses across your face, his touch unexpectedly tender after everything that had just happened. You could feel your heartbeat racing, matching his.
“More?” you murmured against his lips, a playful smile tugging at yours.
“Thought so.”
Without warning, he flipped you onto your back against the mattress, earning a small yelp from you followed by breathy laughter as he settled himself between your legs. Your little escapade with him continued into the night. After all, the night was still young.
How to say “I hate you" in a nice way? It’s simple. “You are the Monday of my life.” Seungkwan always bristled whenever you said that, usually while you were asking him to clean the grease. It wasn’t even his turn, which would inevitably lead to him bickering with Chan about whose turn it actually was. At this point, you might as well be your own employee at your own cafe.
But hey, you like to think you’re a good boss.
The older you get, the more you understand why roosters just scream to start the day. Back in college, you used to wake up and sit there, contemplating whether to skip class. Maybe cry a little. Your greatest joy was waking up without the crushing sense of responsibility.
Now? You’ve never felt so good. You were actually… happy.
Even your nephew had asked Chan and Seungkwan why you were in such a good mood today. You were practically glowing.
There was no denying it, that one-night stand with that ridiculously attractive man had put you in an excellent mood. It was a shame you didn’t get his contact, though. When you woke up, tangled in the soft comforter, he was already getting ready to leave. He seemed in a rush. You were far too sore and far too comfortable to chase after him. Too much hassle, you thought.
Like some kind of Cinderella, he disappeared just like that. And honestly? You didn’t think you’d ever experience sex the same way again. Not that you were mad or anything. You hate being mad. It takes you almost two and a half years to calm down.
So for now, it was just you and your coffee beans, trying to figure out whether today was even necessary. According to the weather, though—it was bright and sunny. You greeted your customers with a warm smile (which you rarely did), and for once, everything felt… light.
Sunoo stared at you with concern as he blended the coffee beans beside you. “Did she win the lottery or something?” he whispered, leaning toward Seungkwan.
“I don’t know, kid,” Seungkwan shrugged, not even looking up as he handled the pre-orders. “She’s having one of her episodes. I’m not getting involved.” He paused, then added dryly, “It’s either her inner peace is sponsored by caffeine… or sarcasm.”
Your nephew just shrugged it off, continuing to help with the brewing. “By the way, remember when I told you I’d be having a meeting at your cafe? It’s going to be tomorrow.”
You hummed in response, packing cookies as you glanced up slightly. “Yeah, I remember. The place is spacious enough—you can come by around noon.”
“Great. Then I’ll get going… with my daily intake of coffee, as usual.” He smiled, picking up the book he had tucked under his arm.
You paused briefly. Because that cover looked painfully familiar. That was your work, your webcomic. The one that went viral back when you were in college.
“Where did you get that?” you asked, eyeing the cover before looking up at him, suspicion clear in your expression.
You were pretty sure it was old. There shouldn’t even be active copies of it anymore. You had buried that part of your life a long time ago.
“Oh, this?” he gestured casually. “My team’s working on a big project right now. It’s for a campaign we’re handling.” He took a sip from his drink, completely oblivious to your reaction.
It wasn’t like you were sweating, or panicking.
Or internally screaming.
It was just your own damn book—the one your nephew had no idea existed. You wrote it back in college. It was stupid, honestly, and you weren’t proud of it. You literally wrote about two dudes who were roommates and… well, got very close.
Unfortunately, it went viral back then. You had no idea how it resurfaced now, and frankly, you wanted nothing to do with it.
Sunoo glanced at his phone as he headed for the door. “I’ve gotta go now. Don’t forget about tomorrow! My team and that mean senior will be there too.”
And just like that, he left. Leaving you standing there, wondering what kind of disaster was about to unfold.
...
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Collaboration Inquiry with Carrot Publication.
Hi Belububbles,
I hope this message finds you well. On behalf of my team, our company has previously reached out to your agency regarding a potential collaboration. We were advised to contact you directly; however, we have yet to receive a response to our emails or direct messages.
As this matter is time-sensitive, I would like to request a face-to-face meeting tomorrow at our office, should you be available. Please let us know your availability by today. If we do not hear back from you we will proceed with further steps to move this discussion forward.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
Going Company PR team
+ 82 013-xxx-xxx
You bristled the moment you read the email in your inbox. Just when you were having a perfectly good day, which is ruined. That tone alone was enough to irritate you. Sure, you did ignore unknown callers and random emails. Most of them were spam or obvious scams, and you never bothered checking unless they came through your publication agency.
Still… the audacity.
Come to think of it, Sunoo did mention that his team was dealing with a particulary demanding client. Which probably meant his “superior” had grown a second set of horns by now. You could already imagine someone breathing down his neck, especially with how much he’d been fumbling lately. Not that you could blame him, the expectations sounded ridiculous and apparently, his superior had decided to take it on anyway.
Good thing none of that had anything to do with you.
Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if one day Sunoo quit his job and showed up at your cafe asking for a position. You were short-staffed anyway, it might actually work out.
And now here you are. Standing in front of the Going Company. You had replied to their email yesterday, and they wasted no time contacting you again today. Still, you didn’t appreciate the tone—less of a request, more of a thinly veiled demand.
You rarely made any public appearances for your work. That’s what aliases were for. Working behind the scenes, under your publication agency was exactly how you liked it. You just hoped, really hoped that you wouldn’t run into Sunoo here.
It was a big building after all. Surely, you wouldn’t. Now seated in a waiting room, you crossed your legs
Now seated in a waiting room, you crossed your legs, fingers tapping lightly against your arm. One of the staff had already ushered you in, leaving you alone as you waited for the so-called “representative.” Something about this felt off. And you had a feeling that this meeting was about to get a lot more complicated.
Did you burn your toast today? Nah. That couldn’t be it. But you did burn the cookies. Which meant Seungkwan ended up cleaning the mess after you told him you had an appointment to get to. This is exactly why you have employees. Even if you treat them more like your nieces and nephews despite being around the same age.
The door then opened. Someone had arrived, but of all people you didn’t expect him. You lifted your head lazily, bored and later froze at the sight.
Jeon Wonwoo.
He also stopped mid-step too, one hand still on the chair he was about to pull out, eyes locked on you. Then, slowly he sat down with his hands clasped and composed. Professional. Like nothing had happened. For a second, neither of you moved.
He was dressed in a black turtleneck, lanyard hanging neatly around his neck and glasses. You almost didn’t recognise him at first. He hadn’t worn them the night you met. The two of you just stared for a moment.
Silence filled the air. Awkward and heavy.
Later, you both looked away at the same time, and he cleared his throat. God, you hoped this was just someone who looked like him.
“Belububbles, right?” he began, voice painfully familiar. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. As you’ve probably realized, I’m the one who emailed you.”
Your brows furrowed. So he was the one behind that email.
“I’m Jeon Wonwoo, part of the PR team. I look forward to working with you. Let’s get started.”
Well. Fuck me.
Just your luck. Your one-night stand, your very recent one-night stand was now sitting across from you, acting like a corporate robot.
You offered him a polite smile. Too polite. It didn’t reach your eyes. “Of course. Now, what is it that you’d like to discuss?”
Wonwoo clasped his hands again, diving straight into the explanation, laying out the project, the campaign, the planning. Every detail, every step. Thirty minutes later, he finally finished. He slid a contract across the table toward you. You raised a brow at that. It was all the NDA, policies and terms whatever it was. You hadn’t even agreed yet and they already prepared all this?
Persistent. Just like his email. What kind of passive-aggressive person was this?
“I’m not going to agree to this,” you said with a sigh, placing the document back on the table. “I don’t do public appearances. I thought you already knew that. My agency always consults me first.”
“I’m aware,” he replied smoothly. “That’s why we’re only proposing pre-recorded interviews. No face reveal—just voice, with filters if necessary.”
You were listening. It is intriguing but you need a lot more convincing to do.
“We just want you to participate in our campaign event,” he continued, confidence steady. “We’re gathering artists and writers involved in the project. You’d have your own merchandise, a chance to expand your audience—”
“I don’t really care about that,” you cut in lightly. “But I do like money.”
He blinked. Clearly not expecting that.
“…Right.” He adjusted his glasses. “Then would you reconsider? I’ve read your current work—the one you’re still updating. Wouldn’t you want more people to see it?”
You leaned back slightly, thinking. “I’ve considered it. But I don’t want the kind of exposure that comes with it. People dig. I value my privacy. And I have a real-life job too. A big one.”
He exhaled slooowly, clearly trying to stay patient. “What about physical sales?” he pressed. “Printed copies. You mentioned profit—this is an opportunity to maximize that.”
You wave your hand dismissively. “I’ve had enough of that. My agency handles most of it anyway.”
Honestly, you didn’t need them. You had your own ways, holding out your own event, your own marketing. You knew what you were doing.
Wonwoo momentarily paused. Finally, he tried again. “What do you want?”
You met his gaze. He was stubborn as hell. You hadn’t even planned to negotiate. You just came here to make one thing clear. You weren’t interested at all. With a quiet exhale, you stood up. “Mr. Jeon,” you said, already reaching for your bag, “I came all the way here to inform you that I’m not interested. Also, your email? That sounded more like a threat than a request.” You turned toward the door. “Have a great day.”
“I’m trying to be nice here,” his voice cut in, sharper now, “but you’re making my job difficult.” His voice made you pause as he stood up. “You don’t want fame, money—whatever it is. People like you are always so demanding, and yet here you are—”
You turned your back slowly. His gaze locked onto yours.
“…Though I didn’t expect it to be you,” he added, voice dropping slightly. “Not only are you a brat in bed, but apparently in general too.”
Ah.
There it was.
You smiled sweetly, stepping dangerously closer. “Why?” you tilted your head. “Was audacity on sale this year?” He scoffed quietly at that.
“Listen,” you added, voice light, “acting like a dick doesn’t make yours bigger.” you paused. “…Though, unfortunately, in your case—”
Except that he is.
His eyes narrowed, a low, sardonic chuckle slipping out. “You already know what I’m like,” he said. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
You glared at him. He didn’t back down either. The silence stretched, until you broke it with a frustrated groan.
“Yeah. I’m leaving,” you muttered, turning back to the door. Then you stopped mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. “For the record?” you added flatly, “It was good dick.” A beat. “But it was a one-time thing. I wouldn’t survive with a dickhead personality like yours.”
You pulled the door open. “It was terrible to meet you, by the way.”
And then you left. Leaving him standing there, rendered speechless, and completely thrown off. You refused to let anyone ruin your day. So, you naturally decided that you did it yourself.
…
Your mood stayed soured the entire day after that meeting with your stupidly, insufferable, annoying, dickhead one-night stand. Chan and Seungkwan exchanged a look the moment you walked in. They were very aware of your mood swing, and very determined not to become your next victims. It was fine, though. They were used to it.
Chan tried first. “You look extra pretty today.”
“I’m not raising your pay. Go to work.” you said flatly, not even looking up as you handled the cashier.
“Alright,” he nodded, but lingered for a second. “I mean it, though. You’re really pretty today.”
You hummed, then lifted your head slightly. “…You know what? Hell yeah. I am pretty. Being frowny doesn’t make me ugly—it makes me extra hot pretty.”
Seungkwan and Chan exchanged another look again. Seungkwan shook his head and went back to restocking the pastries.
Ah.
Very normal.
A little while later, Sunoo walked in with his planning team. Just like he mentioned yesterday. You flashed them a bright smile as they approached the counter.
“These are my colleagues,” Sunoo introduced casually. “And this is my aunt. No weird comments.”
“Hello, it’s lovely to meet you all.” you greeted warmly, slipping into your customer-service persona. “Thank you for taking care of my nephew.”
They greeted you back, placing their orders before heading off to their reserved table. Then, two guys lingered. Both are a couple inches taller than Sunoo, one with a sharp jawline, the other with pale skin and mischievous grin.
The pale one smiled a little too confidently. “Hi. You’re really beautiful. Are you single?”
You blinked, then let out a soft chuckle. “Oh—I mean… depends on the day, and fortunately today is a yes.”
Sunghoon and Jongseong snickered, nudging each other, while Sunoo rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible. He hated when people did this, especially his own friends.
“Yeaahhh, we’re done here,” Sunoo cut in quickly. “Three iced americanos.” He dragged them away before they could say anything else.
You just watched them go, already ringing up the order. Just as you were about to take the next customer, a deep voice spoke.
“I’d like to pay for their order, and one iced cafe latte.” You didn’t even look up at the person.
“Okay, that would be—” as your eyes finally met with the face, and about to take his card. You immediately screamed. Like you had just seen a cockroach. Hands flew to your mouth, eyes wide in pure horror.
The entire cafe went silent. Heads turned at the scene. Seungkwan and Chan snapped their attention toward you. Wonwoo, just stood there—card still in hand, eyes slightly widened in confusion.
Meanwhile, from across the cafe, Jongseong leaned toward Sunoo and whispered. “Man, I knew Mr. Jeon could be intimidating, but I didn’t think he was that scary. Your aunt looks traumatised.”
You still didn’t move. Didn’t even blink or breathe. Seungkwan slowly walked over, glanced between you and Wonwoo. He immediately took over, seeing that you remained unmoved. “Thank you,” he said smoothly, taking the card and finishing the transaction.
Wonwoo didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at you oddly, and suspiciously. He finally turned and walked straight towards Sunoo. Your eyes followed him. And landed right on your nephew’s table. On his team. He was sitting at the centre like he owned the place.
Oh no.
What the hell.
That was the “mean” superior he’d been talking about?
Sunoo cannot know. He absolutely cannot know about your side hustle. And definitely not about that night. Your nephew had no idea that you and his senior had met not just this morning, but very, very personally before that. He had no idea you and his senior had jumped each other like a trampoline in a hotel room.
You only stood there, frozen. Completely mortified at how insanely small the world was. You could’ve slept with anyone, but certainly not this. Not only did you sleep with him, you also argued with him like cats and dogs this morning.
Great. How amazing.
You wanted nothing more than to dig yourself a grave and lie in it. You could scream or maybe cry a little. You know that feeling when you meet someone and your heart skips a beat? Yeah. That’s arrhythmia. You could literally die from that. From the very first moment you laid your eyes upon him, you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life AVOIDING him.
Seungkwan calmly stacked cups while you crouched behind the counter like a fugitive. “You know,” he started casually, “when I used to work at a corporation, I learned a very professional way to say things.” You didn’t even look up. “I’m assuming something bad happened between you and that mean-looking guy over there,” he added, jerking his chin toward Wonwoo’s table.
“I wasn’t.” you sneered.
“It is,” he corrected immediately, like he already knew, and annoyingly, he did. “This was identified early on as a likely outcome.”
“What does that even mean?” Chan popped his head out from the back.
Seungkwan didn’t miss a beat. “It means ‘I told you’ but professionally.”
You abruptly stood up, pretending to busy yourself while sneaking a glance at their table. Wonwoo was speaking behind his laptop, the rest of the team listening intently. Right on fucking cue, his eyes met yours and stayed there. Your gaze hardened, sending him a very clear message, close to a warning or threat. What the fuck are you doing here? Wonwoo merely tilted his head slightly toward his team and mouthed a simple, “Work.”
Oh, he was hilarious. Strangely calm too. Like he was used to handling crises like this. Before your silent rentless fuck you exchanged could continue, you saw Sunoo heading toward you. Instantly, you plastered on a smile. A little too wide.
Your nephew grabbed your arm. “What was that?” he hissed, glancing between you and his table. “Did you really have to scream in his face? I already feel like my soul leaves my body every time he looks at me—if he asks why my aunt is acting like a lunatic, I’m done for.”
You frowned, whisper-yelling back like you were negotiating something illegal. “That was a reflex. He looked too much like my ex.” You blatantly lied, as if you never do that with your nephew through the years of babysitting him.
Sunoo scoffed, grabbing a couple of water bottles. “Yeah, right. You’ve been saying that since I was six. Please don’t embarrass me. For the love of God.” And just like that, he walked back to his meeting.
You exhaled sharply. So much for easy-peasy lemon squeezy. This was more like stressy, depressy, lemon fucking zesty. Life didn’t hand you lemons. It handed you a caffeine addiction, trust issues and zero patience for dickheads like Wonwoo.
So when you noticed him heading toward the restroom, you followed after him. A moment later, he was at the sink, rinsing his hands. He turned around until he was immediately met with you slamming your hand against the tiled wall beside him. He paused, slightly caught off guard. Despite being taller than you, it seems like your anger towards him was taller.
“Did it hurt,” you said sweetly, a sharp smile on your lips, “when you fell out of someone’s asshole and into toilet water, you piece of shit?”
Wonwoo didn’t even flinch. By now, he seemed immune to it. “Not really,” he replied calmly, crossing his arms, “but I know shit when I see one.”
You groaned under your breath, pacing slightly. God, he was insufferable. “Did it have to be my cafe?” you snapped. “Seeing you this morning was already bad enough, and now you just show up here too?”
“I didn’t choose the location,” he said simply. Then, after a beat, “Though now that I think about it… I didn’t know that ray of sunshine was your nephew.” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping a little closer. “It’s ironic, really.”
You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet the devil everyone’s been talking about,” you shot back. “Didn’t realise it was someone that I used to suck his dick—”
You stopped yourself. Barely.
Wonwoo stiffened slightly, adjusting his glasses. Yeah, that landed. You were not sure if he was taken aback by being a worse senior colleague, or that part when you mentioned of sucking his stupid dick.
He clicked his tongue, gaze steady. “Do I look like someone who goes around flaunting his sex life? Exactly. No way in hell.” You didn’t answer. He stepped closer again, voice lowering. “If you agree to the proposal from this morning, I’ll agree to keep things… civil between us.” Then he stepped back, giving you space.
Silence fell. You studied him for a moment. However, he didn’t look like he was hiding anything. Just a straightforward goal. He gives off that impression of a guy that has no time for relationships, probably terrible at it. A stubborn, workaholic guy with a nasty temper. Possibly hates himself a little.
Not that you were one to judge. You weren’t exactly easy either. Honestly, you didn’t care about him but your nephew? That was a different story. If Sunoo found out—if he ever found out there was no doubt he’d snitch to your sister. You’ll be dead for sure.
You exhaled slowly, reluctantly even. “...Fine,” you muttered.
Life is like a helicopter sometimes. To begin with, you don’t even know how to operate one. One could argue that you're one step closer to death than to having a stable relationship. Some people belong to the streets, but you’d like to think that you belong to the ponds because you’re just a silly goose.
At this point, you don’t think coffee even wakes you up anymore. You just like the idea of having coffee. That is, until someone had abused your apartment doorbell. At this rate, they might as well have broken it and got arrested for it. This place isn’t cheap, you paid a ridiculous amount of money to live here.
Grudgingly, you swing the door open and there he is. Wonwoo, looking completely unimpressed as he casually steps inside like he owns the place. Meanwhile, you’re standing there in your tousled hair and beluga-pattern pajamas.
“I called you multiple times. You didn’t answer,” he said, crossing his arms, eyeing your outfit. “Did you get my text and throw your phone into the Pacific Ocean?”
You let out a scoff, already walking back to your bedroom, which of course he followed. “I was busy. Why are you even here?” you muttered, flopping back onto your bed.
“Busy doing what?” he shot back dryly. “Sleeping at noon?”
“I can be in bed and still be busy,” you mumbled into your blanket. “Busy gathering my strength.”
Wonwoo stared at you incredulously. For a second, it genuinely looked like he was trying not to slam his head into the nearest wall.
“How’s the progress?” he asked instead.
You didn’t answer immediately. Just hummed in against the comforter.
He rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply then pulled— no, he freaking suddenly yanked the blanket off you. The cold air hit instantly.
“Okay—what is wrong with you, you psycho?” you snapped, sitting up and glaring at him. “First of all, get out of my room. Second, get out of my house.”
Before he could lunge forward at you, ready to claw his paw at you. Your phone buzzed, signing as you answered without even checking the caller ID.
“I’m heading to your place now,” Sunoo’s voice came through. “I don’t feel like eating cafeteria food—”
Your eyes snapped wide open. “Right now?” you blurted, panic immediately setting in. Wonwoo watched you as you scrambled out of bed, suddenly moving like a hurricane.
Oh, hell no.
Sunoo cannot see him here. Not in your apartment, your room. Just anywhere to be honest. You tried to grab clothes, then froze because this jerk was still here. “Shit—okay, you can’t be here,” you grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. “My nephew is on his way.”
“What—” Before he could finish, you shoved him out of your room, but the front door unlocked.
Without thinking, you pushed Wonwoo right back into your room and slammed the door shut. Perfect timing. You turned around just as Sunoo walked in and flawlessly smiled.
“Why are you still wearing that at your age?” he said immediately, eyeing your pyjamas.
You ignored that. He walked straight to the kitchen, already opening the fridge, while you trailed behind him. Your eyes dart back toward your bedroom door every two seconds.
“You could’ve asked Seungkwan or Chan to bring you food,” you said, leaning against the counter. “Didn’t your mom give you side dishes?”
“She did,” he replied, rummaging through your fridge. “But my roommate ate everything.”
You scoffed. “Just take what you need and go.”
“Why? Do you have a special somebody over?”
Rolling your eyes, you agreed anyway, “Yes, me. I’m amazing and I enjoy my own company.”
Sunoo stared at you for a second. “...Then explain why there are men’s leather shoes at the entrance.”
You momentarily froze at that. How did you fucking forget about it?
Before he could say anything else, you snatched the container from his hands, shoved food into a bag, and pushed it into his chest.
“Okay—out,” you said, dragging him to the door.
“What about—" The door shut in his face. You exhaled in relief, leaning your forehead against the door and turned to see Wonwoo was already out of your room.
“Is he gone?” he asked, peeking out.
“Yeah. Thank God he didn’t ask more questions,” you muttered, rubbing your face. “How did you even get my address?”
“Your agency.”
You groaned, pacing around again.
“Look, I don’t hate you,” he said after a pause, “I’m just not particularly excited about your existence in my life.”
Turning to shoot another nasty glare, you start. “Put yourself in my shoes, idiot. I wouldn’t care if you got hit with—”
“I wouldn’t wear those shoes if I were you.”
You were utterly speechless at the sheer amount of cockiness this guy had. Whenever he was around, you had the overwhelming urge to claw at him like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.
“I know, why not ask yourself,” you snapped. “Is my dick big enough to match your attitude?" His brows furrowed at that. “Exactly!” You clapped once.
Aaaand just like that, you were arguing again with him. Neither of you noticed the door opening. Sunoo stepped inside and froze. His gaze moved from you then to Wonwoo.
Back to you, then to Wonwoo again.
Wonwoo was the first to notice. You followed his gaze and stopped. There was a thick, almost heavy silence that filled the atmosphere.
“…Hate that you had to find out like this,” you said slowly.
Sunoo blinked, stepping back slowly. “…Okay,” he said carefully, already putting his shoes back on. “I didn’t know you two were… dating.”
Dating.
Dating???
He gave a small, polite bow. Probably directed to Wonwoo. “Goodbye, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you after lunch.”
The door closed later. And you just stood there, still processing everything that happened. Your nephew now thinks you’re dating the biggest man of shit in your life. You might actually need to fake your death this time.
...
“I think I’m forgetting something.”
“Morals, probably?” Wonwoo said without even looking up from his tablet.
“No, it’s something important,” you insisted, about to rise from your seat. “I think I need to go back to the cafe before Chan sets the place on fire.”
Wonwoo’s head snapped up. “Wait—no. Sit down. We just got here… oh my God.” He dragged a hand down his face beneath his glasses. “For the love of God, can you sit still for one moment? It took almost two hours to get you here, and I already helped drop your twins off at school.”
You sat back down reluctantly. “How long is this interview going to take?”
“Depends,” he replied dryly. “If you decide to be difficult, probably more than thirty minutes, and I’ll have to work overtime.”
“I can’t do that,” you shot back. “I have to attend the twin’s family day. Their dad bailed at the last minute.”
He sighed again, looking seconds away from tearing his hair out. Mostly because you had completely missed the sarcasm.
“Nevermind. Let’s just start.”
He set the voice recorder on his phone and straightened in his chair. “First of all, thank you very much for agreeing to work with us. We’re very delighted.”
“Thank you. It’s my pleasure too,” you answered flawlessly.
“How did you decide to create such interesting characters in most of your stories?”
You thought for a moment. “I honestly didn’t think too deeply about it. I started writing back in college. I met a lot of different people, so I borrowed certain traits here and there.”
“What made you shift from writing novels to illustrating them?”
“I had a lot of free time back then, and writing gave me plenty of ideas. I knew readers enjoyed the stories too. I didn’t want to stop writing, so instead I adapted them into manhwa so readers could visualize them.”
Wonwoo typed something down before continuing. “On a different note—do you wish to publish another novel one day?”
You crossed your arms, considering it. “I don’t think so. I already have too much on my plate, and illustrating takes time. Maybe after I finish my current project, I’ll think about writing again.”
“How did you feel when you learned your first work, And They Were Roommates, rose in sales again?”
You stiffened slightly. “Uh… well, I didn’t expect it to go viral again this year. I guess I was delighted? It was unexpected, but I received a lot of positive feedback too.”
Wonwoo nodded and flipped to the next page. “This is a special question from your readers. How did you come up with so many hilarious dialogues? They found the comedy really engaging.”
“Ah.” You visibly relaxed. “At first, I never meant for it to become a comedy. I just like writing characters who are witty, so I guess readers found that funny.”
“I can see that,” he said, then continued. “Another fan question: did you base your character’s personalities on real people?”
You made a face. “Well… they’re not wrong. I’ve met my fair share of terrible people and let too many assholes into my life. Real-life suffering became entertainment.”
His eyes narrowed. “Language.”
“What? I speak nothing but the truth.”
He only shook his head. “We’re getting nowhere if you keep doing this. I’ve done some self-reflection—if you cooperate, this can end faster.”
“Oh, so you did have a talk with your dick last night?”
Wonwoo immediately paused the recording and stared at you with a long, exhausted sigh. “Can we put that aside? And no, I did not talk to my dick.”
You crossed your arms. “Fine. Next question.”
He resumed recording. “Another fan question: how did you come up with such funny dialogue and plots?”
“Actually,” you said, “I’m not that funny. I think I’m just an asshole, and people assume I’m joking. That’s how I ended up making rude characters everyone somehow loves.”
He paused the recording again. “Would it kill you to give me one normal answer?”
“What? That is my honest answer.”
“It’s not appropriate for the media.”
“Then make it appropriate. That’s literally your job.”
Yeah. The two of you were getting absolutely nowhere.
After the interview, Wonwoo somehow found himself babysitting your niece and nephew, the twins, who were now sprinting around his office. He needed a bucket of caffeine, a fever patch, and divine intervention. Not because of the kids, because you had very clearly dumped them on him like he was a free daycare service.
“What’chu doin’?” Wonhee asked, propping her chin on his forearm while he typed.
“Work,” he answered flatly.
“Oooo. About what?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?” Wonjun asked this time.
“Work,” he repeated.
“I want Auntie’s cheesecake after this!” Wonhee cheered, bouncing excitedly before both twins ran circles around his desk.
God, just kill me. He was screaming internally.
A knock came at the door. It opened to reveal Sunoo, holding finalized planning documents. Wonwoo nearly saw heaven.
“Sunoo!” the twins yelled in unison, rushing him immediately.
“Sorry, guys, I’m at work right now, so I can’t play,” he said, patting their head before looking back at his superior. “Yeahhhh… I actually have plans with the team after this,” Sunoo added awkwardly, already stepping backward.
Even Sunoo knew better than to get involved. He quickly shut the door. Wonwoo turned back to his computer and resumed typing aggressively.
“Uncle Won. Uncle Won. Uncle Won,” Wonjun repeated, tugging at his sleeve.
“What?” he replied flatly, eyes still on the screen.
“I need to go potty.”
Wonwoo finally looked down.
“Now?” The boy nodded desperately.
“If you don’t take him now, he’ll tinkle in his pants,” Wonhee informed him with complete sincerity.
Wonwoo muttered something under his breath, then immediately scooped the boy up and marched out of the office.
The entire team watched in stunned silence. From across the room, Jongseong leaned toward Sunoo. “I think you’re getting another playmate soon, dude.”
Sunoo scoffed, scowling as he scrolled through his laptop. “Stop that. It’s not funny. I don’t care. Even if they break up, I still lose.” He pointed dramatically in each direction. “They break up—I still have to see his face at work. They stay together—I still have to see his face at work.” He slumped in defeat, “My life has no winning route.”
...
“Baby.”
Wonwoo looked at you as the twins zoomed around your cafe, clearly bothering your two staff members.
“What?” you shrugged. “You want me to call you fellow associate instead?”
He was one step away from crashing out. First, you made his work life hell. Second, you had dropped the twins off at his office not once, not twice, but three times. Wonwoo was good at his job. Great, even. Then when you walked into his life. The tragedy followed.
“Aunty! Aunty!” Wonhee bounced on her feet, reaching up. You picked her up easily. “Tomorrow I have a soccer match! Teacher Yoon said we can bring our parents!”
“But Papa said he can’t come,” Wonjun huffed, stomping lightly. “Something about work.”
Your heart softened instantly. Your brother was busy running his law firm, and even though he and his ex-wife were divorced, they were still co-parenting well. With their busy lives, complicated timing—that was all.
“Oh, alright then. I’ll go,” you said, giving in easily.
“That’s unfair—I wanna see them play!” Seungkwan popped up from behind the counter.
“Wait—count me in!” Chan added.
You rolled your eyes, setting Wonhee down and placing your hands on your hips.
“No. I need both of you to take care of the café while I’m gone. And Chan, I know you’re just using that as an excuse to slack off.”
Chan dropped the cloth dramatically onto the counter. “Aw, man.”
“Will Uncle Won come too?” Wonjun asked, clinging to Wonwoo’s leg and staring up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
Wonwoo stiffened, his gaze flicked to you. You smiled in return, a little crooked and suspiciously sweet.
“Umm… he’s kinda busy,” you said, brushing imaginary dust off your shoulder. “He has a big adult job. He might not make it.”
Both twins immediately started whining loudly. For a second, you remembered just how insufferable they could be. The last time you babysat them, they threw a full-blown tantrum over Haribo marshmallow chocolate.
“Okay, stop,” you deadpanned, staring at Wonjun, who had dramatically sprawled onto the floor. “You don’t demand things from someone you barely know. Show some respect to your elders. And get off the floor—it’s dirty.”
“I just mopped that,” Chan added.
You ignored him.
“You and Papa always say the same thing!” Wonjun protested, sitting up. “He says, ‘respect your elders,’ but he never comes to my singing or storytelling!”
…Ouch.
“Yeah!” Wonhee chimed in. “Papa says stuff like that because he’s old and forgetful. Aunty, you’re becoming like Grandpa too.”
“Hey now,” you crossed your arms. “If anything, I’m better.”
Wonwoo nearly rolled his eyes. Wonhee suddenly turned to him, already halfway climbing into his arms. “Uncle Won, please come! I want to show you my super cool kick!”
He froze completely. He looked at her, then at you and then back at her. He said nothing. Mostly because he knew what would happen if he refused. Flashback from his office with all the screaming, he was sure people from the outside could heard that loud and clear.
You caught his eye and subtly shook your head.
Don’t. Encourage. Them.
“Aunty,” Wonjun said suddenly, frowning, “why don’t you want Uncle Won around? It’s like Mama and Papa.”
Your expression faltered. “…Hey. I’m nothing like them,” you said, quieter this time.
That one hit a little too close. You sighed, then reached out and ruffled his hair.
“Fine. We’ll see tomorrow. If we can make it.”
That was enough to make the twins lit up instantly.
From across the cafe, three figures watched the entire scene unfold like a live drama. Seungkwan leaned on the counter. Chan mirrored him. Sunoo stood between them, looking deeply troubled.
“I don’t like where this is going,” Sunoo muttered.
Seungkwan shook his head. “No, no—let them keep going. This is good.”
Sunoo turned to him slowly. “…Good?”
“Would you rather they take their frustration out on us?” Seungkwan pointed out.
Chan nodded immediately. “Fair. Also, there’s a chance our boss might raise our pay if she’s in a good mood.”
He clasped his hands together dramatically. “I will pray for that. I refuse to suffer in a cafe with emotional damage and no bonus.”
Sunoo stared at both of them. “…Yeah. That checks out.”
The exhibition was going well so far. Wonwoo liked to think all his hard work had finally paid off. Unfortunately, he had forgotten one thing.
You.
Your mere presence alone was enough to test the last thread of his patience. He just needed to keep his shit together for one day. Just this once.
“You didn’t wear your glasses today,” you remarked, openly scanning him from head to toe, and annoyingly enough, he looked devastatingly handsome. If only he kept his mouth shut. “You’ve stared enough, perhaps?”
His head snapped toward you, brows knitting together. “It’s nine in the morning,” he hissed. “Stop fucking testing me.”
“Ah, ah,” you interrupted, waving your VIP lanyard around obnoxiously. “I’m the important guest here.”
“I should’ve thrown fertilizer at you so you could grow the hell up,” he muttered, trying very hard to remain professional.
“Oh yeah?” You scoffed. “Sometimes I wish I were an octopus so I could slap you with all eight tentacles at once.”
He already looked tired. You continued anyway.
“Actually, maybe I’d use them to peg you down so you’d finally learn how to bow your head.”
Wonwoo blinked, once then twice. He genuinely didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just stared at you in silence, expression unreadable, wondering how you always managed to hit new levels of insanity before ten in the morning.
Right on cue, another familiar figure approached.
“Hey, Wonwoo—oh.”
The man halted when his eyes landed on you. “I didn’t know you were here,” he grinned brightly. “It’s been forever.”
It was Mingyu.
You froze.
Oh, for the love of God.
“O-oh… yeah. Haha.” Your laugh sounded faker than the fake Chanel bag you once bought online. “What an… unexpected reunion.”
Mingyu had been your junior back in college. And unfortunately, very unfortunately—your old BL series was heavily inspired by him. Mostly because he never shut up about his roommate constantly invading his personal space. At the time, you were just a broke college student trying to survive. You never expected And They Were Roommates to blow up the way it did.
People would read shit anything.
Mingyu casually slung an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo, meanwhile, looked between the two of you suspiciously. He did not like where this was going.
“I work here,” Mingyu explained cheerfully. “Different department though. Remember that roommate I used to complain about all the time?”
He pointed directly at Wonwoo. “Yeah. It’s this guy.”
Your smile twitched violently.
Oh.
Oh, this was bad.
Out of all people, the world really was disgustingly small.
“Real question is,” Mingyu continued, narrowing his eyes playfully at you, “why are you here?”
You absolutely could not tell him you were the main guest of the entire event. So instead, you smoothly covered your VIP pass with your hand and flashed a dazzling smile.
“Oh, you know…”
Before your brain could stop you, you looped your arm through Wonwoo’s.
“Unfortunately,” you sighed dramatically, “for someone who treats life like a joke, I’m being serious this time.”
Mingyu looked unconvinced, very unconvinced. He glanced between the two of you like he was trying to solve a math equation with missing numbers. To him, this pairing made absolutely no sense. You, whose personality is like a hurricane, and Wonwoo—who somehow managed to be equally unbearable in a completely different flavor.
Birds of a feather really did flock together.
“…Good for you guys?” Mingyu finally said slowly. “I mean… wow. Match made in heaven.”
The way he said it sounded less like support and more like disbelief.
Before he could ask more questions, you immediately cut in.
“I’d love to continue this questionnaire, Gyu, but Wonwoo and I have somewhere to be.”
You tugged Wonwoo’s arm tighter. “Right, baby?”
“No? What are you—”
“Oh yes, you do, baby,” you cut him off sweetly, already dragging him away. “I know you can’t wait to see the twins.”
With that, you escaped while Mingyu simply stood there, watching the two of you disappear into the crowd. Hands shoved into his pockets, head tilted slightly, he frowned to himself.
How the hell did that happen? Because as far as he knew, both of you were disasters individually.
...
Here you were, sitting beside Wonwoo while watching the twins’ soccer match. Honestly, he didn’t know how he ended up tangled in all of this. Not once or twice, but somehow—every single time he crossed paths with you, his life became increasingly complicated.
At first, he told himself it was only because of the contract, mainly because of work.That staying close to you made things easier professionally. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.
Your routines somehow became his problems too, and the worst part? He could’ve said no at any point. So why the hell was he still here?
You nudged his arm excitedly while cheering for the twins. “Take pictures,” you whispered. “They’re gonna ask for them later.”
Wonwoo blinked before adjusting the camera lens in his hands and taking several shots without complaint.
At this point, he was more involved than the twins’ actual parents.
“You could at least smile or look excited,” you sighed, finally turning to face him.
The lively noise of families and cheering echoed around the field.
“You look like a robot. What if the twins notice?”
He lowered the camera slowly and looked at you instead. He stared at you with silence, and blank-faced as always.
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you need smiling lessons?”
You turned toward him properly, using your fingers to demonstrate. “Okay, look. Make your eyes curve like little shrimp—then lift your cheeks up like this—and…”
Grinning brightly, you continued, “S.M.I.L.E.”
For a moment, Wonwoo just stared at you, quietly. The noise around him faded into the background. The wind brushed past gently, making strands of your hair sway under the sunlight in a way that almost looked unreal.
His chest flutters at the sight. It felt oddly similar to the tiny happiness of a stray cat approaching him first, or when his favorite buldak noodles were finally restocked after disappearing for weeks.
It was small and unexpected, but enough to steal his breath away. Wonwoo immediately buried the feeling before it could settle deeper. He cleared his throat, looking away quickly and lifting the camera back toward the field.
You, completely oblivious, muttered under your breath.
“Jerk.”
Then immediately went back to loudly cheering for the twins.
...
By the time all of you arrived back at your place, Wonwoo was carrying your niece while you carried your nephew, both twins completely passed out after dinner with your parents.
At this point, he was involved way too deeply in your family functions.
What made it worse was the fact that your parents didn’t even seem surprised by his presence anymore. It was almost like they had already accepted him and had simply been waiting for the day you finally brought a man home.
Honestly, they probably saw him more often than some actual relatives. He still remembered how your mother kept asking when you were going to get married. And knowing you, of course you only gave half-assed answers.
It reminded him of Mingyu’s grandfather, whose dementia was apparently so bad that he kept asking whether his cousins had jobs.
Ten times.
And ten times, they had to admit they were still unemployed. Honestly, Wonwoo didn’t even think it was dementia anymore. The old man was probably just in disbelief that they were still jobless.
The twins were quickly settled into their room, exhausted after burning through all their energy earlier. You let out a long sigh, stretching your limbs—only to find Wonwoo sprawled across your sofa like a man who had already given up on life.
“Go sleep at your own place, dude.”
“I’m too tired to drive anymore.”
“Not on my sofa.”
His eyes cracked open immediately.
“Let a man rest, would you?” he groaned dramatically, sinking deeper into the cushions.
“Ooookay,” you dragged out teasingly, already walking toward your room. “I was just wondering if you wanted to join me.”
You paused by the doorway and peeked back at him.
“…In my bed.”
Wonwoo sat up instantly. His interest was fully restored.
“You’re messing with me.”
“Yeah,” you answered easily. “I’m fucking with you.”
You casually started unbuttoning your blouse, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it fall carelessly onto the floor.
Wonwoo’s gaze lingered on your bare shoulders. The loose strap of your camisole slipping against your skin. The atmosphere shifted almost immediately. You disappeared into your attached bathroom, beginning to remove your makeup.
“Don’t joke around like that,” he muttered from behind you.
Before you could react, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face against your neck, breathing you in.
“I survived your family all day. I deserve proper compensation.”
A soft laugh escaped you as you tossed the makeup wipe into the bin.
“Sleep outside. I’m keeping the bed to myself.”
Wonwoo groaned against your skin, lips brushing along your neck before trailing to your shoulder.
“Seducing me like this isn’t going to work,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your hip while watching him through the mirror.
“Then I’ll make it work,” he murmured.
He nipped lightly at your ear while kicking the bathroom door shut behind him.
You found yourself kissing him again. The kiss was warm and messy, arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as both of you melted into each other like you had been waiting all day for this exact moment.
The bathroom filled with nothing but mingled breaths and quiet laughter between kisses. His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your skirt, rough palms gliding over your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. Like he wanted to press himself into every part of your life.
Then, a sudden knock came.
“Aunty…”
Both of you froze instantly.
Wonjun’s sleepy voice came muffled through the door.
“I need to potty.”
You blinked, slowly turning toward Wonwoo. He stared back with the exact same exhausted disbelief.
“Just…” you struggled, trying not to laugh as his hands remained stubbornly on your waist. “Just use the guest bathroom, baby.”
“But I don’t know how.”
You nearly rolled your eyes.
Of course this was happening.
“Wonjun,” you sighed, “you’re five. You absolutely know how.”
Then came soft sniffles. Apparently being woken up from sleep was enough to trigger a minor emotional crisis.
You groaned quietly, resting your forehead against Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Wonwoo,” you hissed under your breath, “remove your dick from the situation for one second.”
He actually laughed at that before finally stepping away.
The moment you opened the bathroom door, a sleepy-looking Wonjun stood there with watery eyes and messy hair.
You sighed immediately. There went the mood.
After helping him and reminding him to wash his hands properly, you finally walked back into your room—only to find Wonwoo was already under the duvet. He was shirtless, with his eyes closed. Looking entirely too comfortable in your bed.
“Aunty,” Wonjun asked innocently, “why was Uncle Won in the bathroom with you?”
You swore you heard Wonwoo choke back a laugh.
Keeping a perfectly straight face, you gently patted Wonjun’s head.
“Uncle Won has potty problems too,” you replied smoothly. “I was helping him. Just like you.”
A muffled snort came from the bed.
“Now go back to sleep,” you added. “Aunty needs beauty sleep before she turns into a beast.”
Wonjun nodded seriously and shuffled away.
The moment the door shut, Wonwoo opened one eye.
“Potty problems?”
“Shut up.”
You changed into your pajama pants before climbing onto the bed.
Wonwoo’s hands immediately found your waist as you settled onto his lap, his thumbs tracing slowly against your sides while he looked at you like he wanted to devour you whole.
He kissed you again, slower this time. Somehow even worse for your sanity. His palms are kneading your ass, almost tender with his touch. You melted into him instantly, fingers tangling into his hair while he pulled you closer—
right before the bedroom door burst open again.
“AUNTY!”
You yelped in shock, shoving Wonwoo away so hard he smacked against the headboard.
Wonhee stood at the door clutching her teddy bear dramatically.
“She won’t stop crying,” Wonjun complained from beside her. “And I can’t sleep.”
You and Wonwoo stared at the twins in complete silence. Then at each other. Just like that, the rest of the night ended with all four of you cramped together in one bed.
...
The next morning came far too quickly. The entire night had left both you and Wonwoo restless and unsatisfied, but at least everyone had slept peacefully. That was until Wonwoo’s snores woke everyone up, and your nephew loudly declared that he sounded like a car engine.
After throwing together something quick for breakfast before dropping the twins off at your brother’s place, you set the plates down on the table while Wonjun sat comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap, inhaling an entire cup of instant ramen. You genuinely wondered if he even chewed those.
“Thank you for the food!” the twins chorused in unison.
Wonhee sat beside Wonwoo, already picking up her food so she could eat in front of the TV in the living room. You shook your head at the sight.
Then your eyes landed on the little boy sitting comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap.
For once, you had never been jealous of children—except maybe that one time you realised you couldn’t order a Happy Meal in your mid-thirties anymore, which you now used as an excuse to buy them for the twins.
“Wonjun, can you go eat somewhere else? There are plenty of seats around here.”
Your nephew looked up curiously, pancake stuffed halfway into his mouth. “Nope.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re five. You don’t need to be babied anymore. Yesterday was one thing.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem bothered at all, still securing the boy comfortably in his arms. “Let him be. Why are you so worked up?”
“Of course I’m worked up. That was my spot before they took it over.”
Both Wonwoo and your nephew stared at you. The silence only broke when Wonhee suddenly ran over holding a handmade card.
“Look! Look!” she squealed excitedly. “I made this yesterday at school. Happy Mother’s Day!”
Your heart melted instantly as you accepted the card with a soft smile, patting her head affectionately. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you, darling.”
Wonjun immediately scrambled off Wonwoo’s lap and ran toward their room to grab his own version.
You took the opportunity immediately, settling yourself onto Wonwoo’s lap instead. A small “oof” escaped him at the sudden weight.
“Thank you, sweetheart, but I think you should give this to your mom.”
Wonhee leaned against both you and Wonwoo, shaking her head. “I made two! One for mama and one for you because teacher Yoon said Mother’s Day isn’t strictly for biological mothers. You took care of me when I was little, so you have a motherhood role too. You’re basically my mom!”
Then Wonjun returned, proudly handing over his own handmade card filled with messy scribbles and barely readable words.
The twins kissed both your cheeks before running back to the living room.
“They sure love you a lot for someone like you,” Wonwoo muttered.
“It’s a shame I can’t officially be called a mother.”
His palm slid gently against your lower abdomen as he leaned closer, voice dropping lower.
“I can change that.”
You immediately slapped his hand away. “Wow, look at you. I’m surprised kids are drawn to an asshole like you,” you replied nonchalantly while taking a bite of your pancake.
“The genes never lied then,” he murmured while squeezing your waist. “There’s a reason you ended up with me in the first place.”
You nearly choked at that, refusing to acknowledge how true it sounded.
“Did you know belugas don’t chew their food? Yeah, it reminds me of you inhaling those noodles. Who the hell eats like that?”
Wonwoo shrugged as he continued inhaling the noodles. “It tastes better this way.”
“Only a psychopath would eat like that.”
“Then tell me who the hell gets jealous over a kid sitting on my lap?”
You stared at him, and he stared right back just the same.
“I’m not jealous,” you replied a little too quickly.
“Who said it was you?” A shit-eating grin spread across his face, and you immediately wanted to slap the hell out of him.
“Anyway,” you quickly changed the topic while sipping your tea, “did I know you from somewhere? How did you and Mingyu know each other aside from being roommates?”
He thought for a moment, adjusting himself while you still sat comfortably on his lap. “We went to the same school and university. He doesn’t like sharing spaces with strangers.”
You mused at the information. “You went to the same school as me? Why did I never see you around?”
“I was in the Faculty of Business and Management. Maybe that’s why. Mingyu took architecture before changing to finance and accounting.”
You paused mid-bite and turned toward him. “Oh, I was in the Faculty of Applied Science… something like that. I guess that’s probably why I never saw you.”
“What did you major in?”
“Food science,” you answered simply.
After a brief silence, you spoke again.
“I’m surprised you and Mingyu haven’t kissed each other’s asses yet.”
“I know I’m an asshole, not an assfucker.”
You burst out laughing at that while reaching for his wallet and flipping through his ID picture and cards.
“What do you call a baby whale? A little squirt!”
“You’re not funny,” he deadpanned. “Give me that. Don’t go checking what’s inside.”
Did you listen? Of course not. When have you ever listened to anyone anyway? You barely listened to your parents, so why would you start with him?
“Knock knock,” he suddenly said.
You raised a brow but played along anyway. “Who’s there?”
“Whale,” he answered simply.
“Whale who?”
“Whale…” He paused before immediately snatching the wallet away from your hands. “That’s enough of that.”
You rolled your eyes before shamelessly eating half of the ramen that clearly belonged to him.
“I hope your entire generation experiences bad luck in every possible streak.”
He narrowed his eyes on you. “I’ll just marry you then. We’re going down together whether you like it or not.”
“Give me your card.”
“No. Use your own, you have money.”
“You said you’d marry me. I want to be spoiled,” you whined dramatically while leaning against him like an oversized cat. “I’ve had enough of being the alpha woman all year long.”
“I don’t want you using my money to buy your own diamond ring. I want to buy it for you.”
You turned your head toward him properly this time.
He looked completely serious.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I’m not being sarcastic today. Maybe tomorrow, though.”
Before you could even process that, the twins suddenly came running over excitedly. Wonhee repeatedly called your name as if you weren’t literally sitting right there.
“When can I see you become a princess one day?” she asked excitedly, twirling around while showing you a picture of a bride on her tablet.
You hated admitting it, but every year you were reminded that maybe you would never become one—though you were certainly close to becoming a witch.
Still, you smiled softly.
“Oh, maybe soon.”
The little girl gasped excitedly, eyes sparkling. “Does that mean Uncle will be your prince? And I want to stay with you the whole time when you become a princess!”
“I think he’d be more like the villain who stole the princess away rather than Prince Charming.”
“Villains are way cooler,” Wonjun added confidently.
Wonwoo merely rolled his eyes at your comments.
“Besides…” you trailed off, leaning closer until your lips brushed against his. “The evil ones are always hotter…”
You chuckled softly before kissing him, earning a smirk from Wonwoo almost immediately.
The twins loudly made gagging noises before scurrying away to continue playing around the living room. You and Wonwoo watched them go before falling back into your own little world together, spending the rest of the morning tangled up in each other before the weekend truly began.
Unfortunately, your love life never unfolded like those Prince Charming fairytales. Instead, it felt more like a ridiculous romcom sitcom filled with stupidity, arguments, and way too many unfortunate coincidences.
Unfortunately, you never met him sooner back in school. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have spent so long giving up on love.
Fortunately, though, you loved the way invisible strings worked.
It was beautiful that way. And fortunately, this piece of shit was yours forever to keep.
FIN.
a/n: omg, i'm finally free!! now i can focus on cheol's fic. it wasn't supposed to be so long, i spent the entire time writing shit in here. i tried eating noodles without chewing btw, almost left me choking to death and never again. it's always the shitty fic that everyone enjoyed, goodday apples! comments, reblogged are appreciated :)
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
saying "question mark?" and "however comma," out loud are game changers. punctuation on the go. and it's always the funniest thing that anyone around you has ever heard
Sometimes you hear a song and a fic pops into your head full formed. This is a trap. The fic may be fully formed in your brain, but you still Have to write it down. This is an important step that most people forget about.
Pairing: Non-Idol Carpenter Seungcheol x F. Waitress Reader
WC: 14.5+K
Rating: E 18+ MDNI
Genre: Non-Idol AU, Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), Smut, fluff, slight angst
Summary: Seungcheol thought he had his life planned out. From his job to his home to who he was going to spend his life with. You were just a lost soul trying to find a place to call home, a new face to the small town of Diamond Ridge. Coming into his life and make him question if he really had it planned out?
Tags: Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), small town, Carpenter! Seungcheol, Waitress! Reader, Slowish burn, cheating accusation, rumors, mention of a dead family member, Member appearances, drinking, illusion to driving after drinking (def do not do this), the reader is called some names (derogatory), wet Seungcheol, flirting, yearning, angst, smut
Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie
A/N: This is my first fic for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef, as well for S.Coups. It was meant to be posted this weekend but Im a bit too excited to post it, and this is my first collab and I am so happy to be apart of it and such a great network. @mylovesstuffs and @nothoughtsjustfic thank you so much for doing this collab and giving me the chance to join in!
A/N2: Thank you to @gam3bo17 for betaing this fic for me, and then yell at me for more. xD Well I hope you all enjoy!!
A/N3: The line in the banner "she brings the rain, it feels like spring" is from the song She brings the Rain by CAN.
Seventeen Fic Masterlist
*End of February/March*
The music playing softly through the jukebox was something from the eighties, older than many of the patrons occupying the diner, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. In fact, it was one of his favorites to listen to as he enjoyed his dinner. The soft rock filtering through the semi quiet restaurant, the murmurs of conversations from those around him drowned out.
Some getting off work late like he had, needing a late night dinner, some on dates, or the night owls that couldn’t sleep but couldn’t stay home either. It didn’t matter to him why any of them were there, because to them it didn’t matter why he was there.
“Want a refill?” Mingyu asked, stopping in front of him, jutting his chin at the half empty glass while balancing a few plates in his hands. His brows wet with sweat from the kitchen and running around the place. Seungcheol glanced up from his burger to give his friend a nod. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks.” Seungcheol nodded, popping a fry into his mouth, and the taller man gave him a quick smile before hurrying off to serve food. The door chimed with someone either coming or going, but Seungcheol didn’t bother to check, choosing to watch Seokmin work effortlessly to cook the meals being ordered.
He didn’t even spare a glance when he heard the barstool next to him scraping against the floor, or at the person occupying it. Too tired to look anywhere else but forward.
“Hey. What are we having tonight?” Mingyu’s voice spoke up, grabbing Seungcheol’s glass to refill the soda.
“Just a burger and fries. No tomatoes.” The person spoke up, a voice that he didn’t recognize and he glanced toward the source. “Just water.”
“On it,” Mingyu nodded, setting the refilled soda in front of him. Slapping the pass while calling out her order, then grabbed a few more plates ready to be served. “Be right back with your water.”
“Thanks.” Seungcheol reached for his drink, finding himself observing the new face. You.
He hadn’t seen you before. In a town the size of Diamond Ridge,Seungcheol pretty much knew everyone. Hell, most the people in the diner he grew up around, so you stuck out to him. Your hair loose around your face, and clothes that looked like they were swallowing you up. You weren’t looking around, you were looking down at diner counter, a faraway look in your eyes.
You looked lost.
“You okay?” Seungcheol found himself asking, your gaze snapping to him. Eyes wide in surprise that someone was speaking to you, not expecting anyone to talk to you. Let alone ask you if you were okay.
“Oh, uh, yeah…yeah.” You answered nodding quickly, and it was cute the way you turned away before turning back, “Its…just I just moved here, and I’ve only really spoken to Mr. Kim. He’s my new landlord.”
“So, you’re the one who took the apartment above this place.” Seungcheol mused, taking a drink of the carbonated drink. Setting the glass down, he wiped his hands onto a crumbled napkin before offering it you. “Welcome to Diamond Ridge. Seungcheol.”
He watched as your gaze drop to his hand, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Now it’s your turn to take him in, moving from his hand back to his face then back. Contemplating taking it.
There wasn’t anything off about him in his opinion. A pair of dirty steel toed work boots, jeans well-worn and covered in dirt with his dark blue flannel matching. His short dyed blond hair a mess on his head. He felt he was also an okay looking guy, his face more tired than serious in that moment.
He just looked like a guy who got off a long shift and just wanted a hot meal.
Finally you took his hand, a firm but delicate grip with your palm warm against his. Almost too warm.
“Y/N.” You answer softly, letting go of his hand just as quick as you took it.
“Y/N.” Seungcheol said slow, feeling each syllable on his tongue. He nodded, giving you a friendly smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.” You answer as Seokmin called out that more orders were ready. Mingyu then appeared in front of the two of you, setting down your water down before turning to the pass where the food was waiting.
“Yours is up next.” Mingyu let you know grabbing the plates. Seungcheol didn’t realize that it had gotten busier since he came in, his focus now on the new face next to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Kim.” You tell him, giving him a polite nod and he stopped in front of you for a moment.
“I told you, just call me Mingyu.” He playfully scolded, then was back out on the floor to serve. Seungcheol had gone back to the last of his food, but he glancing toward you.
You also sent a few his way while you waited, neither of you said anything further. You focused on not being noticed, despite being the most noticeable thing there. An unfamiliar face in a room of familiar ones, which he could only imagine how nerve wracking that was. To be a stranger.
“Ready to pay, Cheol?” Mingyu stopped in front of him moments later, and the older man nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin. Standing, Seungcheol pulled his wallet out to get enough to cover his and your meal.
“For both our meals.” Hearing this, you whipped your head toward him, ready to protest, but he was already starting toward the door, “Keep the change as a tip, Gyu. Have a great night, Y/N.”
You knew being someone new to such a small town was going to get you attention, but that didn’t mean you were used to the stares. The looks that followed you wherever you went, ranging from pure curiosity to caution to straight suspicion.
Everyone seemed to know each other, with so many growing up together. So, they were able to greet each other by name, talk with each other like old friends, while asking for your name was a foreign phrase to them. It would lead to questions that you weren’t ready to answer, and you could feel the judgement in their eyes when you avoided those questions.
You weren’t sure if you were the one making yourself an outsider or if the town’s people made you feel that way. It was not your intention to, nor could it have been for just the ones curious.
There were several friendly faces that made you feel welcome and didn’t ask too many questions. Mingyu and Seokmin were nice to you, with the taller happily hiring you on as a waitress. There was only two, and a third was desperately needed. Diamond Ridgewas a pretty small town, but Kim’s Diner was a popular spot. Even during the slowest times of the day, there was always someone in a booth eating.
Then there was the man who paid for your meal one night. Seungcheol. His gaze curious, but it didn’t feel like the way everyone else in town looked at you. He didn’t ask anything further than if you were okay, and he paid for your meal when he didn’t have to. The kindness he showed you made you feel more welcome than so many of others, and it made you want to return it to him as well.
But you hadn’t seen him again since.
For a moment, you thought maybe he’d been part of your imagination, a hallucination since you’d been sleep deprived that night. Unable to get sleep with your mind racing and your cat Max meowing through the studio apartment. The chubby tabby was still getting used to the new living arrangements, but he found the acoustics of the place made him happy.
But he wasn’t part of your imagination, with Mingyu confirming that you weren’t hallucinating. He was a very real person. Though you still had your doubts, since you hadn’t seen him since that night, with only your memory to go off of and you were too nervous to ask any of the locals about him. Nor could you ask your boss or any of your coworkers.
You were friendly with them, but you weren’t friends, nor comfortable enough to ask or talk to them about anything more than surface level. Though you probably should have in hindsight.
The fact the local bar was named Cheers made you giggle, thinking about the show with the same bar name when you walked into it. It was a hole in the wall that was found in the heart of Diamond Ridge’s main square, tucked just enough away that it took the sign out front to find it.
The inside was bigger than what you expected, walking toward the bar while taking in your surroundings. It was a slower night, with maybe five people there, and that was counting the bartender. Two were off at the pool tables, chatting and laughing, while the rest were sitting at the bar. None of them paying you a single mind, other than the bartender. He was a shorter man, with jet black hair that reached just past the nape of his neck, and a muscular frame under a fitted shirt. His sharp eyes zeroing in on you as he approached, his face neutral and didn’t give away if he recognized you or even cared.
“What can I get you?” He asked, throwing a white towel over his shoulder, leaning against the bar patiently waiting for your order.
“Uh, I’ll take an old fashion,” You answer, and he made quick work on your drink.
“Starting a tab, or paying now?” He wasn’t even looking at you when asking.
“Tab?” It’s then he looked up at you, his brow raised, and it was then you realized your words sounded unsure. You coughed into your fist, clearing your throat to speak again, “Sorry, I’ll start a tab.”
“Name?” The bartender placed the drink in front of you, before looking at you expectantly.
“Y/N.”
“Just let me know if you want anything else.” Then he walked away, leaving you to your drink.
With glass in hand, you scanned the near empty bar for somewhere to sit, not particularly interested sitting at the counter. There was several tables and a few booths through it with a set of pool tables in the back corner and already being occupied by two men. Picking one of the booths, you sat to nurse your drink.
It was another night that you didn’t want to be home, even with Max cuddling and the television playing something to keep the place filled with noise. You didn’t like it, you weren’t used to it, and you weren’t sure if you could get used to it. It didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t…wouldn’t go back so you had to eventually. For now, you’d just find things to occupy yourself until that happened.
You barely touch your drink, kind of regretting choosing it instead of something else, but it was the only thing you could think of. Then again, you never were much of a drinker, and you drove here. You needed to drive home, so what were you even thinking getting a drink? Taking another slow sip, you scrunch your nose at the taste, licking your lips in hopes to find something other than the taste of alcohol. You didn’t.
Laughter from over at the pool tables drew your attention in that direction and the two men playing a game. One was lean with long dark hair that was pulled back, giving way to one of the prettiest faces you’d ever seen, while the other’s back was to you. This man had short dyed blond hair, spiked up, but you couldn’t see his face. He was in a simple pair of black jeans and a black tank that showed off thick shoulders and arms. You catch sight of the top of a tattoo between his shoulder blades, and something over his shoulder.
You couldn’t make out what the words said, you weren’t close enough nor did you want to look like you’re staring. Only before you could look away, the pretty one’s eyes flicked to you and the smile he had quickly turned into a smirk. Catching you looking at his friend.
He then leaned forward to say something to his friend, making him look over his shoulder to you. The look on your face had to be a funny one, since the pretty one had burst out laughing while the other held your gaze.
Was… was that Seungcheol?
You’d only seen him one night at the diner, and the lighting hadn’t been the best, so you couldn’t remember him exactly. You only could remember his dark eyes, the curiosity and kindness that had resonated with you. That and the way his hand felt when you shook it. Strong, calloused, and warm. So warm it felt like it could burn you if you held on too long.
Breaking the contact, you looked down to notice the ice had melted in your drink, the hand holding it cold and wet from condensation. Now wishing that you just paid for it rather than opening a tab, to make an easy escape.
“Y/N, right?” You hadn’t realized you were approached, let alone it being him who had. It must’ve been apparent when you looked up toward him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open which earned a chuckle from him. It was Seungcheol, smiling at you and that was when you noticed he had dimples.
“Ye…yeah! Seungcheol?” You finally answer now that your brain caught up with you and to the man standing before you. Leaning slightly on the pool stick he was holding, and your eyes landed on his arms. They were thick, strong looking, like the rest of his body. A body well taken care of, but also from years of hard work.
“He is, in fact,” The pretty man spoke up next to you, making you nearly jump out of your skin, not seeing him slip into the booth with you. Sticking out a slender hand, the pretty man’s tried to conceal his smirk behind a welcoming smile, “Jeonghan.”
You stare at his hand before taking it to give a brief shake, saying your name despite him already hearing it, but Jeonghan held on. Eyes studying you carefully, from the way your hair was done to the clothes you were wearing. A pair of baggy acid wash jeans that was barely being held up by a belt, a white thermal shirt under a larger shirt. An old, faded band one, well-loved with holes through it and was too big for your body.
Jeonghan then nodded, like he was approving of something only he knew, finally letting go of your hand.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve been quite the talk of the town.” He observed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and chuckled, “Which I take you aren’t too fond of.”
“I don’t think anyone would like to find themselves at the center of gossip.” You pointed out, and he let out another chuckle. Nodding in agreement.
“You have me there,” Jeonghan then shot a look toward Seungcheol, then back to you, “Now, we can’t have you sitting here drinking alone. How about you come drink with us, play some pool. Have fun with some friends.”
“I just met you.” This made Seungcheol laugh, while the other man looked surprised at your comeback.
“More the reason to join,” he pressed, slipping out of the booth and offer his hand to you. A friendly gesture, a chance to not be alone for a change. Your gaze then moved to Seungcheol, who looked like he was about to start pouting that his friend offered this. Not him.
It was… it was kind of cute.
“I don’t know how to play pool, but I’ll hang out,” You agree, the words directed toward Jeonghan while you kept your gaze on Seungcheol. Grabbing your glass, you get out of the booth, ignoring Jeonghan’s out reached hand. It was noticed by both men.
“After you.” The pretty man gestured to follow Seungcheol, which you did, clutching your watered down drink in the process.
“You finish stalling now? Or are you ready to have your ass kicked?” Seungcheol asked Jeonghan, picking up a beer that was left at the pool table.
“I wasn’t stalling. Just wanted an audience to watch me win,” The other man teased, grabbing his pool stick and gave you a teasing wink. The gesture makes you roll your eyes, finding a stool to sit on. Seungcheol took a swig of his beer before sitting it next to you.
“Watch this for me?” He asked, dark eyes sliding over your face and made your cheeks feel warm. You give him a small nod, earning a gummy smile, “Knew I could count on you.”
As they played, the conversation flowed with the two men making sure to include you. Explaining who the people being mentioned were, providing a little background to a few jokes. They also asked you different things as well. Surface questions, like when your birthday was, if you had pets, and how you were adjusting to small town life.
That game ended in a draw and lead to several more, with both men earning a win under their belt each. You had another drink while they had several more beers. Enjoying their company, the way they made you feel included. Not a stranger, but a longtime friend.
That was until the question came up.
“So, what brought you to Diamond Ridge?” It was Jeonghan who asked, lining up his shot that would win him the game, and it made you physically stiffened. Your back straighter, the smile on your face now an uncomfortable frown. Jeonghan didn’t notice but Seungcheol did.
“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol spoke up, his words coming out like a warning, watching you push your tongue out to wet your bottom lip and attempt to relax your body. The question had been on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but very few tried to asked. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
The only person who knew anything had been Mingyu, and that was only to get him to agree to rent to you. He too had been weary of you when you first walked into his diner. Tired from driving hours from the city, lost, hungry, and desperate for a place for you and your cat to rest.
There was a loud crack as Jeonghan took his shot, the sound of the cue ball hitting the eight ball perfectly and pocketing it easily. Winning the game. Straightening himself back up, he looked at you both with a triumphant grin on his face and a shrug to his shoulder.
“It’s just an honest question. It’s not like we’d judge her.” He defended his reasoning, and while what he said may be true, it didn’t mean you were comfortable enough to share it yet. Let alone in a bar. “The last time we had anyone new move here was Joshua and his mom in high school. Can’t blame us for being curious.”
“You don’t have to answer,” Seungcheol told you, arms crossed and the grip on the pool stick tightening. It was hard to not stare at the way his muscled bulged doing this, while you shifted in your seat. You knew you didn’t have to answer, but his assurance did help.
Jeonghan’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his head tilted, studying something you couldn’t see, before his focus was mostly on Seungcheol. The corner of his lips turned up, a flash of something go across his own dark eyes, before giving him a nod.
“I see.” That was all he said before setting the pool stick onto the table to saunter passed his friend and you, “I am going for a smoke and see if I can flirt some free drinks out of Jihoon over there. You two want to join?”
“I don’t smoke,” You shake your head.
“I quit remember,” Seungcheol answered at the same time, then let out a scoff, “And good luck with the flirting. He’ll just charge you double.”
“Price to pay to see him get all cute and flustered.” The pretty man joked, leaving the two of you alone at the tables.
A pregnant silence followed.
“I’m sorry that he asked that.”
“Don’t be,” You say him waving him off, slightly wishing that your empty glass still had alcohol in it. “I don’t blame him or anyone else wanting to ask… I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Seungcheol said calmly, finishing what was left of his beer. Setting it with the growing collection of empty bottles, he caught the way your eyes went to his arms before back to his face. Making his already red flushed skin brighten, gesturing toward the pool table. “You want to play?”
“I don’t know how to,” You repeat what you had said earlier when Jeonghan had invited you to play, and this earned a chuckle from the blond man.
“I’m not that good myself, but it’s pretty straightforward,” He then went on to give you a quick lesson on the game. Explaining the rules. You would either be solid or stripes and needed to get them all pocketed before putting in the black eight ball using a white cue ball and a pool stick. It sounded easy enough. Grabbing the stick that Jeonghan had been used, he offered it to you.
“Thank you for the offer, but…” You went to decline, only to stop when your gaze went from the pool stick to his face, finding that his bottom lip started to jut out in a pout. You managed to stop the laugh that wanted to escape you, but not the smile that graced your lips. He really was pouting over this.
Something inside you told you to take him up, and for once, you listened.
“You know what,” Standing from your seat, you took the stick he was offering. “One game.”
“That’s my girl.” He said softly, setting up the table so you could start a game, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you stood there paying attention to what he was doing, letting him teach you. Once ready, he gestured toward the table, “You first.”
“Me?” You asked with wide eyes. He nodded his head as you shook yours, “I think you should start, so I can see what I should do.”
“You been watching us all night,” Despite this, Seungcheol didn’t argue further and positioned his stick with the cue ball. “Just got to make sure you’re lined up just right, and…” the stick hit the cue, breaking the triangle of balls at the end of the table. He straightens up as they ricocheted around, even pocketing a couple, “the game is started. Your turn.”
With a deep breath, you moved into position, trying to mimic what he had just shown you. Lining up the stick with the cue ball, but when you went to hit it you missed.
“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, and Seungcheol laughed softly.
“Your postures wrong. Here try again,” He encouraged, and you did as you were told. What you weren’t expecting was Seungcheol leaning over you, one hand placed gently on your elbow and his other helping you adjust your stance. His chest was slightly pressed against your back as he leaned closer, his mouth close to your ear. “You stand like this. Your eyes should be leveled, so you can get a good look at your shot.”
You were listening, but you could also feel your brain suddenly stop working at the smell of his perfume hitting your nostrils, or how his hot breath hit your ear. It made your own breath catch in your throat feeling his warm body encase yours, something that he clearly heard by the way he froze but didn’t let go. When he turned his head to look at you, you took the chance to hit the cue.
The cracking of the ball hitting another echoed, and you took the chance to move from him as a solid one dropped into one of the pockets. Barely able to register it with your skin feeling hot, tingling from his warm breath against it.
“Looks like you’re solids,” Seungcheol mumbled out, his attention staying on the table, but you could see that the red tint of his skin was now deeper. Taking a deep breath, he took his turn, “That makes me stripes.”
Neither of you got close like that again as the game played on, with Jeonghan returning with three more drinks that he tried to claim was free. Taking your original seat, he wasn’t watching the game you were playing, he was watching the two of you. Easily picking up the way you were acting.
You were talking and laughing like nothing happened, but the lingering glances you kept doing made it pretty obvious that something was there.
“Last call!” Jihoon called out right as Seungcheol landed the winning shot, sinking the eight-ball easily. You hadn’t realized it was so late nor had you intended to stay out this long.
“Good game.” Seungcheol stuck his hand that you took to shake, making eye contact with him in the process. His eyes darkened with something unspoken, as if he was still thinking about that moment earlier, his hand gently squeezing yours. This time you didn’t let your body betray you and kept wearing a friendly smile.
“Same here.” You answer. It was then that you two realized that Jeonghan had disappeared. “Where did…”
“He does that. I got to give it to him, he stayed longer than he usually does.” The blond answered, taking your pool stick to put away. Taking this chance, you looked back around the now empty bar, with only you, Seungcheol, and the bartender named Jihoon left. Who had been staring you both down since yelling last call minutes earlier.
When you went to close your tab, you found it had already been paid for, and your other drinks had been placed on Seungcheol’s.
“No, let me pay!” You tell him when he pulled out his wallet to pay, digging through your jean pockets for yours. “It’s only fair since you paid for my dinner the other night.”
“You don’t owe me for that, and you don’t owe me for this,” He said simply, already handing several bills to the shorter man. Jihoon then gave you both a nod, his way of saying goodnight you guess, and went to close the tab. You went to protest, your own lip jutting out in a pout, and this made Seungcheol let out a laugh. Leading you out of the bar, you were met with the cool, dewy air and an empty street.
The still cold night sent a shiver through you, going from a warm bar to this that not even your thermal was able to help like you hoped. Seungcheol, now covered in a black leather jacket, took notice and attempted to take it off to give to you.
“No, I’m okay. I will just blast the heater when I get into my car.” You shake your head, and he slowly pulled it back over his shoulder.
“Let me walk you to your car at least.” He didn’t give you the opportunity to decline though, directing you in the direction the only two vehicles on the street. Your little black Buick, and his old white Chevy truck. “You good to drive home?”
“I’ll be okay. How about you?” You ask, stopping next to the driver side of your car, watching the way Seungcheol slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His own gaze on you.
“Yeah, it takes more than the weak ass beer that Jihoon gets in to make a difference.” He nodded, neither of you making any moves to leave.
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“For dinner the other night, the drinks tonight and hanging out, and… for walking me to my car.” You manage to stutter out, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the cold air hitting your face. This earned a smile from him, a gummy one that made his eyes crinkle, and the dimples on his cheeks deepened.
The smile made him look younger, almost boyish, making you want to keep seeing it. Keep having it in your direction.
“Anytime.” His gaze stayed on you for moments longer, his grin softening before he nods his head to you. “Have a goodnight, Y/N.”
“You too, Seungcheol.”
*April*
If there is one thing about a small town like Diamond Ridge, it’s how easily word can spread even when you don’t want it to. Rumors and gossip can be shaped with each exchange of ‘what so and so said or seen’ and become almost its own being and farthest from the truth. Even if it was a complete misunderstanding, or something that was misinterpreted by nosey eyes.
Being shown how to play pool and then being walked to your car after is a good example.
You still weren’t used to the way people would stare or whisper around you, but you had learned to tune it out. Ignore whatever story they have spun about you, why you moved to the town, how you dressed or kept to yourself. It was easier than to let yourself listen or even try to defend yourself with things you weren’t comfortable to give away.
You didn’t need them to look at you with suspicion and pity. If they even cared to show pity.
When you worked, you kept a friendly smile on your face, ignoring the stares that the patrons would provide you as you served them. You kept a friendly smile as some of them would request another server or Mingyu to help them instead of you. You taught yourself how to not take it all to heart, to not think about it, hoping that if you kept your head down enough it would all stop.
That was until Mingyu had come to you with concern.
“There you are,” He sounded relieved when he stepped foot out of the diner to find you out there. You were sitting on the steps that lead to your apartment, your focus on way the trees around the diner were full of leaves and flowers, while watching the way the birds flew from each branch. Singing a song that only they could understand. “Seokmin told me you went on break but weren’t in your hiding spot in the kitchen.”
“It’s a nice day out. I figured getting some fresh air would be nice.” You answer him, a smile gracing your lips as you enjoyed the view of the trees that stretched far behind the diner. You hadn’t dared to venture into them yet, but you wondered how easy it would be to get ‘lost’ in them. To let nature surround you instead of people. Then you noticed the look of concern on his face, “Everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way, not sure how to broach the subject. “I really don’t know how to talk to you about this.”
“Did I mess up on someone’s order?” It was a reasonable thing to ask, you had been busier than usual that morning and at one point it felt like a blur. By the time your break came around, you couldn’t stay in the stuffy diner, not even in the little walk in fridge that you had claimed as a small hiding spot.
“No, your service has been great, everyone who I spoke to admits that you’re good at your job,” He shook his head before taking a seat next to you on the steps. He runs his hand through his dark hair, “But there has been… concerns.”
“Concerns?” You repeat flatly, the smile on your face dropping. “What kind of concerns?”
“Someone saw you getting cozy with Seungcheol at the bar the other night and leave with him after it closed.” He answered after a moment, still sounding unsure at his approach. You could only blink. “Did you?”
“I went to the bar, yeah, but I was not cozying up to anyone. Seungcheol and his friend Jeonghan invited me to drink with them instead of alone and play some pool. Then he walked me to my car after the bar closed, he went home and I came back here. That’s it, nothing happened.” You tell him honestly, your hands slowly closing into fists. Trying to figure out who could have made that up, then again, you couldn’t put it past anyone here in town. “Besides, what’s the concern over it anyways?”
“Because if you haven’t noticed, most of the people asking for a different server… are couples…” Mingyu said slowly, and you blinked confused. You didn’t exactly notice what kind of people were requesting to not be served by you, but thinking back to it all, it was mostly couples asking. The women being the ones requesting it, and it started to make sense about what their looks of disgust meant.
You had been so used to ignoring and not acknowledging them that it didn’t occur to you what was happening. You started to rack your brain and started to pay attention to the mumblings, the whispers, and you remembered why you learned to ignore it.
“I didn’t even try to think about it… I mean it’s not like he’s…” The words died on your lips, already sounding unsure and full of the annoyance that was starting to build in your chest. Mingyu didn’t answer, he just watched you with a pitied look that said to use your head. “Seungcheol… isn’t single.”
“They’re not anything official yet, but he has been seen around town with her more often than not. So, yeah.” Mingyu could see the way your eyes dimmed, and the frown on your face deepening. “I take it that you didn’t know.”
“No, because I don’t go around asking people if they are taken. I didn’t even actively seek him out, I was invited to hang out with them as a friend.” Your voice continued to not come out the way you wanted, with it coming out higher than you would like and probably sounded pathetic to Mingyu.
“Hey, I believe you,” Your boss said with a sigh, reaching over and patting your knee, “Cheol is a nice guy, and he’d give you the shirt off his own back if needed. Hell, this town knows him, but they just don’t know you… or your intentions.”
“My intentions is to live my life without bullshit,” You snap, swallowing back the sting of angry tears. “My intentions is to not think about my mom or my life back in the city. Not be labeled as some harlot.”
“I know. Trust me, I know better than most here how cruel these people can be.” His voice was quieter when he said this, the same hand patting your knee squeezed. “But don’t stop doing what you been doing. Keep your head high and just ignore the talk.” He then stands and turns to you with a crooked smile, showing off a long canine, “They’re all just bored bastards anyways. It won’t be long until they are bored over this and onto the next target.”
“Can’t they already be done with it,” You sigh, knowing that by the look on his face that your break was over and he was waiting for you to come with him. Standing, you smoothed out your light pink dress uniform before following him in.
“One can only wish,” Mingyu chuckled, opening the back door for you.
You didn’t expect to run into Seungcheol again so soon, or at the post office of all places. You were already in line to get stamps when he stepped into it behind you, holding a piece of mail he was sending off, and there was a shift in the air. His eyes moving to your back while you continued to look forward, clutching your wallet to your chest, counting to see how many people were in front of you.
Four. With one elderly clerk that was working at a snail’s pace.
Why was this post office so busy for a small town? And why did it have to be right then?
“We’re going to be here a while. Mr. Han likes to take his time on top of already being slow moving,” You could hear him say to you quietly, but you didn’t look back to him. Instead you took a slow inhale through your nose before licking your lips, trying your best to ignore him. Last thing you wanted was more fuel to the fire that rumor created. Then he spoke again, “I’m sorry, by the way.”
“Of course, you are,” You muttered to yourself, but he heard it. Though it wasn’t like you didn’t mean for him to though.
“I am sorry.” He said again, and you were happy that he couldn’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course, he is. They always are when they’re caught, even if they aren’t the ones getting the shit end of it all. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues. We didn’t like that you were drinking alone and wanted to make friends.”
“Friends… yeah, that’s totally what ended up happening,” You let out a scoff, but you knew that he wasn’t the one who started or twisted the rumor and it included him. You felt bad for that, but he was the one who had gotten close to you, the one who sought you out with his friend, he was the one who didn’t tell you that he was seeing someone. Whether he had meant to or not, you were the punished one.
“Y/N.” That was when you turned to look at him, trying to keep your features neutral unlike his. His thick brows knitted tight, with a deep frown playing over his features, his dark eyes swirling with annoyance and hurt. You knew it wasn’t exactly directed toward you, but you didn’t factor it out. The one thing you were certain that was directed toward you was the underlying concern in them.
The clerk finally called the next person, and you turned to shuffle forward.
“I’m serious.” He said softly, but you didn’t bother looking back again and kept your eyes forward. Your fingers tightening around your wallet and cardigan. “Is there a way I can make this up to you?”
You didn’t answer him, ignoring him rather than engaging any further with him. It didn’t matter if he tried to make up for this, it would only make things worse. Any interactions you had up until this point had been soured since Mingyu came to you, and any after now. Which sucked because you liked being around him, but maybe it was better this way.
Seungcheol must have gotten the hint because he stopped trying to talk to you and stood behind you with a heavy wave of frustration radiating off him. It made you shift on your feet uncomfortably, wondering if anyone else here could feel it, but you refused to look back. You didn’t want to give him more of a chance to talk to you, nor did you want to see the look on his face.
After another ten agonizing minutes, it was finally your turn to get your stamps and left without giving Seungcheol another glance. The only time you looked over your shoulder was once you were out of the small post office, catching him through the window, talking to the elderly clerk with a wide smile.
Disappointment heavy on your shoulders that you still wished to be a subject of that smile despite it all.
After watching you drive away that night, Seungcheol sat in his truck until he had no other choice but to drive home. His eyes stayed on the empty space where your old Buick had been, and where he had said goodnight to you. With his mind replaying that night over and over.
“Isn’t that the new girl?” He remembered Jeonghan asking this, his eyes flicking past him and made him look over his shoulder. To see you sitting alone in one of the booths, your wide eyes on him with a look of surprise. It actually nearly made him smile with how cute you were looking. Then Jeonghan had burst into laughter right when you looked down to your drink. “She’s been checking you out, and she’s all alone too. Go talk to her.”
While the other man ended up taking over, leaning heavily into being a wingman when he shouldn’t have, Seungcheol was happy that he did approach you. If he hadn’t, he doubt he would get to see that you were more than just shy and to yourself. You were sweet, funny, with a warm smile and a giggle that made him willing to do anything just to keep them in his direction. To learn more about you.
He hadn’t liked that Jeonghan had made you uncomfortable with his questions, stepping in to stop it from going any further. He remembered that you looked grateful when he had, that someone’s in your corner and didn’t want to trap you in it. It made him feel good to see this, with it being a while since he felt this way over someone.
Leaning his face into his hand, Seungcheol could still smell the sweetness of either your perfume or shampoo when he was showing you how to play pool. He could still hear the soft hitch in your breath when he had leaned over you to help you, something he had done plenty of times in the past, but there was something about being in your space, smelling how sweet you were, and your reaction that made it feel different for him.
He wasn’t sure about the stirring in his chest as he continued to sit and think about you. Your style, the way you were yourself, how beautiful and attractive he thought you were. All of this was dangerous to him. He was a man who had things planned out already, working hard to have the home he always wanted, to be able to live without naught, and already had someone in mind to share that life with.
And here you are, coming in and making him question if he really was right with choosing to pursue Danni. If maybe he had gotten it wrong after all.
No, it was just because you were new. A new face in a sea of faces that he would see every day, you were fresh and something he wasn’t used to. He hoped that this feeling would fade, and once it does, you could be a good friend for him. Except that still didn’t stop him from thinking about you the entire drive home.
That was as far as this town would allow him to get before it made the choice for him.
Words and rumors in this town spread like wildfire, so really this was no different. Whoever was at the bar that night had to of only seen the two of you playing pool and taken it wrong because neither of you were cozied up with each other. Hell, Jeonghan was hanging off him more and being all cozy with him, so one needed to be a dumb mother fucker to confuse his and your height and build. Or so drunk that they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between their asshole and a hole in the ground.
For Seungcheol, the most he had to face was the wrath of Danni since he didn’t give a single shit what anyone else said in this town. Their opinions didn’t affect how he was treated by them, nor did it effect his business since he wasn’t the actual target. You were.
You were the one who was facing the towns judgement and distrust. All because a drunken fool wanted to run their mouth.
When he saw you again, he couldn’t blame you for the way you acted toward him. Refusing to give him the time of day, walking away from him when all he wanted was to make things right, choosing to protect yourself instead of letting him in. Except he couldn’t deny that it still hurt, to watch you build a wall before he could even find solid ground. So much so it soured his mood for the rest of the day, and it was felt all around.
He didn’t like that this emotion was being pulled out of him because of you as well. He didn’t like that he barely knew you and you already took over his thoughts and emotions.
The next time he saw you was a nearly a week later at the diner. You were working that night, busy with several tables that you hadn’t noticed him coming in. Or the woman at his side, with her hand resting possessively on his bicep as her own eyes looked around, but your back turned when she looked your way. She was making it quite obvious that she was looking for someone.
A sudden uncomfortable feeling started to build inside, a turning in his stomach as it slowly dawned on him what was happening here. Danni had been insistent that they go out that night, have a bit of a date night. Movie and a late night dinner at the diner was what she wanted, and well, he wanted to give it to her. She was who he had intended to spend his life with, so he wanted to give her anything she wanted.
Except, he started to think that she didn’t actually want to come here for a late dinner date or sit through that shitty movie she chose. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from you, smiling and laughing with a set of teenagers you were serving, to look toward Danni. Who had caught sight of you… and the empty table in your section.
“There is a free table right there, Cheollie,” The sugary sweet tone she was putting on was aggravating to him, now that he realized the real reason they were there. Danni acted like she didn’t notice as she pulled him to the booth, her grip on his arm tightened.
He almost didn’t go with her, let her drag him to the empty booth, instead wanting to drag her out of the diner. Demand what she was trying to accomplish by bringing him there while you’re working and tell her how childish she was acting when you had made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Except he knew this was a test for him too.
Both her and the people watching them looking for anything to make things worse. And if he failed, you would be the one to blame.
Seungcheol didn’t care what they thought with him, he never did. He did care what judgement they had toward you, without you even knowing what you were being judged further for. Not when all you were doing was trying to find your place in this town that only had a small few welcoming you.
Slipping into the booth, Danni made sure to sit on the side that faced where you were checking on another table, receiving glares instead of a response. A smirk stretched over her pink glossed lips, flipping her long sleek hair over her shoulder before reaching out for him. A gesture that Seungcheol didn’t return, with his jaw still set tight, a frown gracing his features, and crossed arms.
She knew that he was pissed, she knew that he was onto her, but the way her eyes kept flicking over his shoulder told him she didn’t care. She was making a statement, and one that she was not going to like the outcome of.
“Good evening! My name is Y/N, I will be your server tonight.” You spoke up, stopping in front of the table, a bright smile playing over your lips. Except Seungcheol could see that it didn’t meet your eyes, and that you were refusing to look at him more than you needed to. Setting the menus down in front of them both, you pulled out your notepad to take their drink orders, “Should we get started with some drinks while you decide?”
“That would be so lovely!” Danni responded to you with her own smile, only hers was more menacing while she looked you over. Sizing you up from what it looks like, “I’ll take a sweet, iced tea, easy on the ice.” You nodded, writing down it down. Still not looking at him, “What about you Cheollie?”
“I’ll have the root beer, and we can order our meals now. We know what we want,” He said flatly, making you look up at him in surprise. Catching the way his eyes flashed toward Danni, his annoyance nearly palpable among the three of you. “I’ll take the number seven, medium well patty and cheese. I’ll also have the fries instead of the potato salad.”
“Coming right up, and for you Miss?” You nodded, writing down his order quickly and looked to Danni, who had been watching the two of you. Trying to catch you two in some act right in front of her. She was really pissing him off doing this.
“I’ll take number ten, the clam chowder, and could you ask Seokmin to put the oyster crackers in the soup for me instead of on the side? Thank you so much.” She rattled off quickly, almost too quickly and you nearly missed her added request.
“Alright, so I have the number seven with a medium well patty, cheese, and fries instead of the potato salad. Along with a root beer for you.” You repeated calmly, not showing that Danni’s antics was phasing you, barely looking up from your notepad. “And for you the number ten, with the oyster crackers in the soup and not on the side. As well as the sweet, iced tea with easy ice and forgive me, did you want the lemon on the side or in the drink?”
“On the side.” Seungcheol watched with brief satisfaction as Danni’s lip curled in annoyance, her voice not sickening sweet as it was. With another nod, you give both of them a smile.
“I’ll get that put in now and be back with your drinks in a moment.” And with that, you walked away to put in the ticket. Seungcheol didn’t dare look your way, not when he was being watched by others around them. Danni instead was practically breaking her neck to watch you go.
“Ugh, I can’t stand her.” Danni scoffed in disgust, twisting back in her seat and crossing her arms like a brat, the jingle of her bracelets could be heard over the chatter around them. She didn’t seem to notice or care that Seungcheol was staring her down pissed. “Can she be anymore pretentious? Acting like she’s better than me.”
“She was just doing her job, and you don’t even know her,” Seungcheol snapped, making her look at him, her golden brown eyes staring him down. “How many times do I have to tell you that nothing happened? We invited her to play pool and drink with us. You and the rest of this god forsaken town make it seem like we fucked on the pool table.”
“Seungcheol!” She gasped, looking around as if she was making sure no one heard him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s impolite and immature.”
“And what you were just doing wasn’t?” He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low enough that it stayed between them both. His eyes stared her down, watching the way she shrunk slightly before straightening up. A frown playing over her pretty face.
“Listen, all I am doing is make sure she knows I exist and think next time she even wants to look twice at you,” There was so much conviction in her voice, with an eye roll that would back it up. “Let her know that you got someone prettier, more put together, and doesn’t look like they pulled their clothes out of a dumpster. Not some unwelcomed slut.”
“Danni, that’s enough.” Seungcheol could feel his anger started to get the better of him, his eyes piercing through someone he thought he could fall in love with and have a life with. You didn’t even give him the time of day, and here she was tearing you apart like you both were still making eyes at each other. “You don’t talk about her like that, and you sure as hell won’t call her names. I don’t give a shit what that makes you think of me, but you aren’t going to punish her for no damn reason.”
“Seungcheol…”
“Here is your drinks,” Mingyu spoke up, setting down both glasses along with a straw each, this made the couple look at him in confusion. You were their server, “Y/N needed to go on break, so I will be taking over your table. Your food will be ready soon.”
Seungcheol snapped his face toward Danni, who was fighting the triumphant grin threatening to break through. He sure as hell hoped it was actually your break and not because you heard what she had said. But from the frown on Mingyu’s face, the sickening turn in his stomach, and how you didn’t return as their server once back, that was the case.
It made him unable to eat his meal. Everything feeling so wrong and cruel, and he unable get out of his head the way you wouldn’t look his way at all.
Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Danni when he dropped her off to her place, not even acknowledging the kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth. His eyes still forward, with his blood running hot, and his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Failing to not appear as tense as he was.
“Call me later, baby. Goodnight.” Danni called out before closing the door, either oblivious of his anger or she simply did not care. To her, she won that night.
Once he was she got in, Seungcheol put the truck into drive and pressed on the gas. His tires squealed against the asphalt as he u-turned on the quiet street, followed by a roar of his engine as he sped off.
He needed to clear his head. Needed to rethink everything.
The sky darker than usual, rain clouds starting to gather as he sped through the empty roads. Passed the mixture of houses and thick trees, passed the dirt road that lead to his own place, and into the small quiet town. He did no clearing of the mind as he drove, the streets starting to grow dark except for a few streetlights, and the porch lights of the houses in town. It was late, people were sleeping and probably being woken by the sound of his truck.
He didn’t realize he was driving to the diner until he pulled into the near empty parking lot. The only vehicles there were Seokmin’s bright yellow Beetle, Mingyu’s red Suburban, and your black Buick. He could see through the windows the tables empty, which was a strange sight to see when there was normally always someone there eating, and Mingyu animatedly talking to someone as he wiped down tables. Not bothering to look out the window at the approaching truck.
Turning off the headlights, Seungcheol parked his truck at the farthest end of the lot where it was harder to see anything inside. He leaned back into his seat, running his hand through his hair, once styled to look nice now sticking up everywhere, watching the diner. Contemplating on going in to ask to speak to you.
He was friends with Seokmin and Mingyu, knowing both when they were pushing each other in the mud as kids, so he trusted that they wouldn’t say anything. He’d be able to apologize for Danni’s actions, once more ask for your forgiveness. Be able to talk to you and maybe get you to see that he truly didn’t intend for things to get so messed up.
It was like fate though, that before he made the choice to go inside, the back door opened and you emerged. Carrying a large trash bag, laughing loudly as you yelled something back inside, and a genuine smile playing over your lips. Brightening your face in a way that made his mouth to drop in awe, and his heart flutter. Seungcheol craved to be the reason behind it.
“Y/N!” He called out as he got out of the truck and walked toward you, making you nearly jump out of your skin and fling the trash bag toward him. It didn’t land far from you, and Seungcheol stopped short. Both of you looking at the bag in confusion. It was you who recovered first and picked it up.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that there wasn’t any tears in the bag before tossing it into the dumpster. “Besides trying to scare me to death.”
“I.. sorry about that,” he let out a nervous chuckle, the corner of his lip upturned slightly. “I… I came to talk to you. To apologize…”
“For your girlfriend saying I pull my clothes out of the dumpster? Or that she’s prettier than me? That she’s more well off than I am? That I am some unwelcomed slut?” You finish for him, finally looking his way. Your bright smile dropping to a sardonic one, turning toward him as your arms crossed. “It might be hard to believe, but I actually don’t give a shit what she has to say about me. Or anyone else in this town for that matter.”
“Still, it wasn’t right.”
“So, you are going to make it right, is that what you are going to do?” You let out a laugh, “I don’t need you to do that, because it’s not your place to make it right.” You hold your hand up to stop him from saying anything. Seungcheol had opened his mouth to argue back but stopped so easily for you. “Just leave it be, Cheol. It sucks, yeah, but sometimes words can only go so deep. And if you only knew, you would understand what I mean by that.”
“Please, I know I can make this right.”
“By what?” There is a sudden waver in your voice, a hitch in your throat. You held onto your smile, though he had achingly watched it change from one that could brightened his day, to a sad one that you were wearing now. “By apologizing for her and the town? To get me to look at you again? I am no one, Seungcheol. Just a lost soul who is trying to find their way in life again.”
The back door then opened to Seokmin, looking out for you with concern. That concern didn’t ease when he saw Seungcheol standing there either.
“Maybe, in another lifetime, things would have worked out differently,” You tell him, walking away before he could reach to stop you. Stopping at the door where Seokmin was still standing, you gave Seungcheol one last smile. Bright, and beautiful but oh so terribly sad. “If you want to make things right, then do it by letting it all go.”
Then you were gone.
**May**
The little town of Diamond Ridge was a mixture of beautiful clear weather and rainy days from April through May. The rain making the surrounding trees and plant life flourish, with everything greener, brighter, and nourished. It made you not regret stopping here after a long drive with your cat, nor regret walking into the diner to ask Mingyu if he knew anywhere you could rent.
So much so that you found yourself going out more no matter what the weather was. Taking trips to the market, visiting the library, explore the trails behind the diner, and stroll through the small park in town. The stares had died down, with only a few still doing it, helping to ease the anxiety you felt. You may not give a shit what these people thought or said, but you sure as hell didn’t like being stared at like you were.
“The Outsiders, huh?” A voice asked next to you while you were looking over the movie box, considered renting it. You found yourself at a small movie rental shop near Cheers and had been browsing the movie selections when the voice had approached.
Looking in his direction, you were met with a younger man standing next to you, his brown eyes looking down at the movie in your hand. He was tall, with high cheek bones that were emphasized by the grey beanie that he was wearing, and his outfit was just a simple pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Around those eyes were some of the prettiest lashes and eyebrows you had ever seen on anyone, and had to tell yourself to not be jealous, though you really were.
“Ye…yeah… it’s one of my favorites.” You started to stutter out but managed to find your voice, handing over the movie without thinking. Letting the stranger take it from you, to look over the covering. “Was just trying to decide if I wanted to watch it again. If you want to rent it, go ahead, I seen it plenty of times.”
“While I appreciate that, I actually work here and I have a copy of my own.” He let out a soft chuckle, but still flipping the box cover around to read the back.
“Oh,” You answer, feeling your face grow warm with embarrassment.
“You have good taste,” He commented nodding, handing it back to you with a smile, “I’m Vernon.”
“Y/N…” You respond, taking the movie back and braced yourself for the same reaction you always got. Except all Vernon did was nod and repeat it out loud.
“You’re the one who moved into the apartment above the diner, right?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty jealous. That place is such a good spot. Spacious, right above the diner and don’t even need to cook if you don’t want to. And you work there, so that’s even better, don’t have to waste the gas.”
“It can be, but the downfall is that if I want to call out, I have Mingyu at my door. Either calling my bluff or trying to force feed me soup. He told me that when he agreed to give me the place and the job.” You point out, and Vernon chuckled again. He had a nice laugh, and he didn’t look at you like everyone else did. It reminded you a bit of Seungcheol, since he didn’t look at you like an outcast either.
“Yeah, I can believe it. He’s always been that way.”
“Everyone really seems to know each other here.” You mumble, more to yourself but he had heard you.
“Well, we all grew up together, and it’s not every day we get someone new moving here. I think the last people to move here was my friend Josh and his mom when we were teens.” Vernon then pointed toward the movie, “You ready to check out? I can get you hooked up with the employee rental discount… and my number if you want.”
“I would like that.”
“Sweet.”
Vernon was great. He was easy going, loved a good movie or a good album, polite, gorgeous, and most of all, single. It was nice to have someone other than Mingyu and Seokmin to talk to, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Vernon.
He also liked you. Taking you out or coming by with a stack of movies to binge. He listened to you when you talked, didn’t care or believed the rumors that were started over you. Stating that he didn’t see you the way they painted you and knew Seungcheol wasn’t that kind of guy. Giving you empathy when others didn’t.
Vernon also knew that you liked him, but not that way. He knew that you wanted to, even sharing a few heated kisses during a few hang outs, but something was holding you back. Except that it wasn’t something, it was someone. Someone you couldn’t have or think about.
Vernon was great, but he wasn’t Seungcheol.
You hated that you were still thinking about him after everything. That you were still thinking about how, besides Mingyu and Seokmin, Seungcheol was the first to welcome you to this town. You hated that you wanted to be back in the cross path of his kind eyes, be the reason for a smile over his lips, and be close to him the same way you were that night at the bar. It didn’t matter that the rumors and gossip ruined it, you still found yourself wanting to go back again.
But you couldn’t. Seungcheol and you were not meant to be. He was taken, he had someone already in his life, and you were left wishing that it was all different. Stupid on your part really, to wish that you could go back so that you can explore that what if in your head, when the results would be the same. Maybe they would be even worse, because no matter what. He was spoken for and you’d be what the town thought.
“Movie night this Friday?” Vernon asked through the receiver, “We just got this new movie in, The Little Rascals. I actually saw it in theaters. It’s a pretty cute film.”
“That movie should work, be a lot better than the movie from the other night,” You nodded as if the younger man could see you through the phone. One hand holding the thick white plastic house phone, while the other gently scratched the top of Max’s head. His chubby tabby body curled up next to you, purring softly as your scratches lulled him into a sleep.
“Listen, I thought since you liked Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club that you would like St. Elmo’s Fire. It had the brat pack!” Vernon defended his movie choice, making you both start to laugh.
“I mean the movie wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either.” You pointed out, before sighing, “I’m gonna let you go. It’s my day off and I haven’t done shit on my to do list because you’re distracting me.”
“I will not take responsibility for your bad choices, Y/N.” He quipped.
“We literally been on the phone for the last two hours, and if I am not mistaken, you’re working.”
“I don’t see how that’s important here, because unlike you, I been productive. I put a movie away.” The two of you burst into laughter at this, then he gasps, “Oh shit, before I let you go. Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Cheol officially ended things with Danni. I think it happened last week after not talking to her for like… I don’t know, I just know that they aren’t a thing anymore.” Vernon chattered off, and your brows seemed to furrow. Why was he telling you this?
“Uh, no. I haven’t,” You said slowly, before a familiar uncomfortable feeling started to bubble inside. “I’m not being blamed for it this time, am I?”
“Cheol finally realized that she was a bitch and a terrible person, and him settling down with her wouldn’t change that.” You could picture Vernon shrugging before he spoke again. “And uh.. yeah you’re kind of to be blamed too.” You went to protest before he cut you off, “But… just hear him out. Don’t close the door.”
“What…” Lightening flashed through the sky as a click could be heard on the other end of the line. You stared at the phone with pure confusion, Max tossing his head back to get you to start petting him again. “Weirdo.”
The knock came about twenty minutes later, when you had put a load of clothes into the old washer that came with the place. You weren’t expecting anyone, not that anyone would come see you, and Mingyu would call you if he needed something. Respecting your space by not being an overbearing landlord. Not to mention, the rain was now coming down like sheets, so whoever was out there had to be insane.
What Vernon said before hanging up made sense when you opened the door, because standing before you was Seungcheol. His blond hair wet from the pouring rain, sticking to his forehead as he stood there. His white button up sticking to his frame with a few buttons undone down to his chest, and blue jeans darkened. Droplets sliding down his handsome features, his gaze fixated on you.
Soft, worried, scared, but hopeful. It made your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat.
“I been standing out here for the last twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock,” He yelled so that the rain didn’t drown his words out. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, words escaping you. “From the moment I saw you, there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head, and I didn’t know what that meant. Until the night at the bar, when we played pool…” He took a breath before continuing, taking your silence as a chance to say what he wanted to say. “I am still so sorry about what happened after, and this sounds so fucked up, but I wish nothing more for that rumor to have been true… I wanted to kiss you at your car that night, I wanted to hear that little sound from the pool table again. Over and over.
You moving into town made me realize that I was settling with Danni. Thought she was going to be enough, but how could she be when you were the only thing on my mind? You take over my every waking thought, and you invade my dreams at night.” Your mind was buzzing as he continued to speak, unable to move or speak. “I have no idea what the future holds, but I knew that I would regret every day if I married her when I didn’t love her. I would regret not finding out what could have been with you…”
You didn’t let him continue, stepping out onto the patio to join him in the rain. Cupping his cheeks to pull his face to yours. The moment that your lips met, it was like the cold spring rain warmed, and every part of you was coming to life. His full lips felt slightly chapped, but still soft and even better than you had imagined.
Seungcheol didn’t react for a moment, taken off guard at your sudden action, before his body physically relaxed and returned your kiss. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flushed against his frame, his muscles firm under the soaked material and softness of his skin. He felt hot under your touch, running the tip of his tongue over the bottom of your lip, begging for more of you. Which you welcomed, now that you have finally tasted him, desperate for more.
He took over your every sense, after weeks of fighting the yearning feeling for him you let it win. Shattering the moment his tongue met yours, and all you could think about was him, Seungcheol. You needed him to keep touching you, needing to make up for the weeks of thinking about that small moment. To find out what this all meant. You knew you couldn’t stop as his own kiss grew desperate too.
Seungcheol needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, but there was no point in trying to play who needed it more. The point was that you both needed this, you both couldn’t keep pretending.
Slowly moving his hands from your waist, running them over the curve of your ass before grasping at your thighs to pull you up. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth when he lifted you, hooking your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist to brace yourself. His thick hands having a firm hold on you, letting your own hold around his neck loosen to push your fingers through his short hair. The strands still soaked from the rain, while you were no better off. Your own hair wet, sticking to your skin, and your clothes already soaked themselves.
Neither of you gave a shit though.
You couldn’t pull away from his mouth, not caring the need to breathe, so you didn’t notice that he had carried you back inside. You barely registered that you were no longer being pelted with rain in your make out and now in the warmth of your apartment. Nothing around you mattered except Seungcheol.
“No… no…” You gasped out the words when he pulled away, though your lung thanked the sudden rush of air to them. Both your lips were red, swollen, and wet from your kiss.
When he looked at you, it was with different eyes. Lids heavy, pupils blown out giving way to darkened swirls. The emotions that were etched in them earlier gone and replaced was a deep desire. A want that sent a fire through your body and settling in your core.
“Y/N…” If the way he was looking at you didn’t do you in, it was the way his voice came out in a deep rasp, heavy breaths to find the air you took from his lungs. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his as your fingers clung to his hair. Unable to hold back from kissing him again.
“Please…” You whispered against his lips, hoping that a simple sentence would tell him everything you were feeling in those moments. Everything you had been feeling over the weeks.
He was the key to turn you back on, the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and now that you had him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.
You needed him. And you knew he needed you.
“Where’s your bed?” It was his only response, and every part of you now burning with need. The water on your skin drying from the heat of your skin.
You allowed him to pull away enough to watch where you gestured toward the full on the opposite end of the apartment. The dark bedding still a mess from when you woke that morning, not thinking about making it. His gaze followed your hand before nodding, taking long strides to your bed. While you took the liberties to kiss down his jaw to his neck, nipping gently at the skin before soothing it with a kiss.
Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the mattress as he laid you down, the weight of his body pressing down on you. Centering while the hard bulge in his pants threw you off kilter. Your patience growing thinner, ready to snap if you didn’t get to have more of him, but he was feeling the same.
First thing off was the wet button up of his, with you watching the way it peeled off his muscular frame. Letting you see those strong arms and shoulders of his, leading to thick pecks and a firm stomach. You caught the sight of a light trail of hair from his belly button leading under the waistband of his jeans. He only took off his shirt, and you were already clenching around nothing.
Next off was the green tank top you were wearing, peeling off the damp fabric to reveal what he was suspecting. You weren’t wearing a bra, making Seungcheol stop since he couldn’t tear his gaze from the swells and nipples hardened into peaks. Taking in the way they moved under your labored breath.
He kissed you again. This time slower, gentler, and nothing like how it was few minutes earlier. His lips molding against yours so well, already memorizing how you liked to be kissed; with his tongue sweeping over yours. You were on him, tracing up his back and felt the muscles from years of hard labor.
Moving his plush lips from yours to kiss over your jaw and neck. Planting slow open mouthed kisses across your skin, letting his tongue taste the salt on your skin while soothing any bites he delivered. A small whimper accompanied your rushed breathing, nails now running across his shoulders through his descent.
Seungcheol made sure to kiss over your collarbone, leaving reminders of him at the curve where it met your neck. Your back then arched when a rough calloused hand cupped one of your breasts, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bud as his mouth found the other.
“Fuck…” You whimpered at the contact, your thighs squeezing and hips rolling against his. A groan escaped him as he sucked and teased one breast while his hand made sure the other had attention before switching. Your own hands moving from his back to his hair once more.
Seungcheol snaked his free hand down to the button of your jean shorts, undoing it before pulling the zipper down. Just to free from slipping into them, under your underwear, and detached his mouth from your nipple now wet from his saliva, to look at you.
“Are you sure? We can wait…” He spoke softly, searching your eyes for any hesitation but you were never surer than you were then.
“I’m tired of waiting…Please Cheol…”
It was all he needed to hear, mouth finding yours while his hand slipped into your shorts and underwear. His finger brushed against your soaked folds, earning moans from you both. You completely surrendered to him.
His hands teased you as he left more reminds on your skin, the aching spots feeling like heaven, with the way his lips attempted to memorize the softness of your skin and the curves of your body. Your shorts and underwear were discarded soon after, legs spread open by his shoulders, leaving you naked and bare for him.
You thought you saw stars when his mouth attached itself to your cunt, his eyes rolling at the first taste of you and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you there, not holding back. Licking and eating you as if starved, his tongue learning every inch of you as he drank the arousal that was dropping from you. When he slipped a thick finger inside, the groan that left him vibrated through your body. Feeling your gummy walls grip at his finger tightly, making him rut into your mattress. The springs squeaking under the roll of his hips.
“You’re so perfect,” You heard him say, muffled because he couldn’t tear himself away to speak properly. Growing addicted to the way you tasted, felt, and the little sounds leaving you. Better than the one from that night.
Adding another finger, he curved them just right, making you shatter. Your whole body vibrating as his name echoed from your lips, a chant as he drank all you gave. His lips and chin glistening with you when he finally pulled away, looking up with a fucked out face that rivaled yours. The sound of the bed moving from his ruts met your ringing ears, making you think about how hard he had to be. Making you clench around his fingers, bringing a smirk to those shiny lips.
“You still want more?” He asked teasingly, moving the digits inside you at a slower pace, unable to stop himself from latching onto your clit again. His eyes looking at you from between your legs, drunk on you. The time it felt like he was prepping you, stretching your tightness to accommodate him.
You both knew where this was heading, and neither of you wanted to stop.
Seungcheol drew another orgasm from you before finally moving the last of his clothes, the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor. Leaving him standing there in front of you, completely bare and on display for you. His thick cock hard, precum leaking and smeared over his tip. It looked bigger than it felt in his pants, and you couldn’t stop from salivating at the sight.
You needed it in you.
When he joined you on the bed once more, going slow with his movement and watched for any signs of you backing out. He wanted to make sure because he knew he would never want to be without you again. Only there was no signs of doubt, your eyes heavy with need and want, especially because of the sureness in his.
Settling back between your legs, his cock brushed against your cunt, collecting your arousal against the underside of it. It made you both shutter, with you grinding your hips for more. With one hand braced next to your head, Seungcheol planted a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself while his other slipped between you.
Grasping his cock to line himself up with you.
“Ready?” He rasped out, pressing his forehead against yours while his other head pressed against your entrance. You nod quickly, wrapping yourself around him. Completely his. “Look at me.”
You didn’t know you closed your eyes until you opened them, both of you watching the other’s reaction when he pushed in. The stretch made your mouth fall open with a high pitch gasp while a string of curses left his. Your walls gripped at him when he thrusted forward, filling you to the hilt.
“Cheol…” You managed to get out, your body shaking as you got used to his size, feeling bigger now that he was in you.
“Yes, baby?” He grunted out, every part of him stopping himself from fucking you like he wanted. It was hard since you squeezed him so snuggly, wrapping around him like you were made for him.
“Fuck me..” It was all he needed to hear, pulling his cock halfway before thrusting back into you. Unleashing something inside both of you, your wanton cries echoed against the walls of the apartment, mixing with the sounds of his own moans and the slapping of skin against skin.
Your nails racked down his back, trying to meet his every thrust but couldn’t with how you were spread out. Leaving you to his mercy and the build that was starting to grow again with every drag of his cock against your walls. Close to a third release.
Seungcheol’s mouth was all over you, over the column of your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts. Causing your back to arched when he took a nipple into his mouth, one hand holding onto the fatty flesh with the other found purchase between your legs. His fingertips brushing where you two met, feeling the slickness of your arousal and his precum mixed, before finding your clit.
He was not going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way you were covering him and gripping at him like a vice. But he refused to until he drew a third orgasm from you. He needed it before his own release.
“Cheol…” You cried out, your hands reaching to grab anything to anchor you as the knot in your core started to snap. His hair, your own hair, the bedding, your breasts, his biceps, nails leaving red scratches over his body where you grabbed and scratched at him.
“Cum for me, Y/N… I’m not far off…” He groaned out, keeping his gaze on you, his cock and fingers helping you let go.
His own released chased after yours, unable to hold out from the way you spasmed and squeezed around him, making it impossible to pull out, or want to. Releasing ropes of his cum inside your inner walls, Seungcheol buried his face into his neck as he did. Groaning and whimpering as he filled you.
Leaving you full of him after he finally pulls out.
Both of you refused to let go of the other or separated until you couldn’t stay connected any longer.
“Do you want to know why I moved her?” You asked, your fingertips tracing the olive tree tattoo on his back, making him turn his head in your direction.
“If you want to tell me.” He said softly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you, the sound of your voice, the soft tracing of your fingers. and the pattering rain outside lulling him into a light doze.
“My mom died last summer,” You started, pain lacing through your words, but you didn’t stop, “Then my old landlord decided to evict me by changing the locks and locking me out of my own apartment. I ended up having to break in to get Max and anything I could carry and put in my car. Then I left, drove until I came upon this town and the diner,” You took a deep breath, swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, “Max couldn’t be in that small carrier much longer, while I was just tired and starving. Neither of us could keep going like that, so I took my chances by asking Mingyu for a job and where I can find a place to live.”
Seungcheol rolled over, so he was now on his back before he reached for you. Pulling you into his arms and let you rest your head against his chest, feeling a stray tear hit his chest.
“I’m sorry about your mom.” He said softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Your own arms now tight around his waist. Holding onto him like he was your anchor to this world. “This town probably didn’t help though.”
“Words are nothing,” You say, turning your head to look at him, only to see he was watching you. His hair sticking up in different directions from your hands, lips well kissed, and so fucking beautiful. “I’ve head worse over the years from a bunch of assholes in the scene I was in. I could have let them take me down, let them hinder me trying to move on, let them break me, but my mom taught me better than that. Only words and opinions that should matter are my own.”
“So, you don’t regret moving here?” He asked, and you smile.
“No, in fact, you make me want to stay more. Be able to call this place home.” With that, you adjusted yourself to kiss him. One that he returned eagerly.
Thank you for reading!! I do hope you enjoyed and I hope I did our Coupsie justice.
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