not so loud - dino x reader (@daechwitatamic) | friends to lovers, one bed trope, fluff, smut, slight angst
build this dream together (series) - joshua x reader (@joshujin) | f1 driver joshua x race engineer reader, fluff, angst, smut
rates of change - dino x reader (@wqnwoos) | dino x TA reader, idiots to lovers, fluff, slight angst
the tiger & the moon - hoshi x reader (@memoiresofaneternaldreamer) | circus performer hoshi x artist reader, smut, angst
statistically speaking... - mingyu x reader (@gyuswhore) | TA mingyu x reader, fluff, smut, angst
on call - wonwoo x reader (@kkaetnipjeon) | attending neurosurgeon wonwoo x resident reader, fluff, smut
slacking off - wonwoo x reader (@goldenhourology) | coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut
you've got boba eyes, dude - dino x reader (@wheeboo) | boba shop owner dino x mat racer attendant reader, fluff, slight enemies to lovers
caught in bloom, caught on you - minghao x reader (@wheeboo) | florist minghao x reader, fluff, slight angst, strangers to friends to lovers
double trouble - dk x reader x mingyu (@studioeisa) | fluff!
on the clock - vernon x reader (@sailorsoons) | coworkers to lovers, fake dating, fluff, smut
baby - hoshi x reader (@sailorsoons) | mafiaverse, childhood friends/exes to lovers, angst, smut
untitled - jeonghan x reader (@hoshifighting) | famous poker player jeonghan x famous poker player reader, angst, smut
𓏲ּ𝄢 some seventeen authors i absolutely love with similar fanfics ! :
- @sailorsoons
- @studioeisa
- @haologram
- @joshujin
- @gyuswhore
- @memoiresofaneternaldreamer
part 2...
currently listening to... i don't understand but i luv u - seventeen ♫⋆｡♪ ﾟ.
SUMMARY: You can tolerate a lot. You don’t care when someone messes up your documents or when your situationship ghosts you after two dates or when your manager is drowning your work in red ink. It was annoying, but survivable. If someone steals your lunch, especially the one you woke up early to make for yourself, that's where you draw the line. No one is hot enough to be forgiven for food theft. Not even the annoyingly calm, morally upright, infuriatingly handsome attorney from the legal department. And you’re about to catch him.
add tags❦︎: attorney! wonwoo, reader is in pr team, strangers to lovers, food puns (intended), wonwoo is kinda of an asshole here, minghao side quest, booseoksoon mentioned ft. mingyu, jeonghan you piece of shit, crackfic, dom!wonwoo, implied inexperienced reader, happy ending aye.
a/n: i'd like to think that im creative. also pls don't play with your food guys, inspired by one of the indie VN games i played.
No one is hot enough to be forgiven for stealing food.
And you’re about to catch that rat in action.
There’s nothing more infuriating than someone eating your lunch, especially when you made it that morning. With your own groceries. Your own money and your own time.
Your blood, sweat, and tears.
Oh, you’re about to be devastatingly mad. You want to throw the trash bin across the pantry, curse at the manager, maybe even consider resigning on the spot.
But did you?
Obviously not. Moment of weakness, as we speak.
Two hours earlier.
…
Work-life balance? Don’t know her.
Your life had been mundane as usual, and honestly, you didn’t mind that. You just wished your corporate life would stop trying to actively ruin it. Ever since the new CEO took over the man who stepped in after his father—you weren’t sure what to think of him. What you did know was that the company had been overworking its employees nonstop.
You wouldn’t even complain if they at least upgraded the cafeteria menu.
The new caterer didn’t seem to care about repeating the same dishes over and over to the point that one of your coworkers ended up with a stomachache. Not to mention the coffee drip machine sucked. Like, genuinely sucked. Thousand-dime company, yet they never bothered to upgrade the damn coffee machine.
No one wanted to drink that brown liquid. You’d rather dehydrate than willingly swallow it.
Since then, most people have started going out for lunch. Some just kept working through it, to the point of developing gastritis or borderline malnutrition.
But not you.
You refused to starve yourself.
Your mother always said: never be stingy with money when it comes to food. Money comes and goes.
That’s what she said.
Nothing beats a home-cooked meal. You’d choose that over takeout any day, unless you were really busy.
Just in time, it was finally lunch.
You had been anticipating this. Your lunch. Your heavenly five-star meal that you poured your whole heart into this morning.
Heck, you didn’t even eat breakfast. Just that cheap black coffee from the café downstairs.
Today’s packed treasure? A hamburg steak with a molten cheese filling in the center, paired with soft, fluffy rice.
You didn’t forget the fiber either broccoli and roasted potatoes to balance the meal. You swore nothing beat homemade meat: freshly ground beef, breadcrumbs, and spices that actually made sense together.
You’d like to think you’re very good at pounding meat.
The mental image of that juicy steak, gravy cascading over the top and soaking into white rice, made your stomach growl loudly.
God, you couldn’t wait to devour the whole thing. It was your self-reward after hours of sitting in your office chair to the point your ass might permanently imprint into it.
Sure, you couldn’t eat it fresh off the stove but at least the microwave here was more competent than the company’s infrastructure.
With a small, happy hum, you walked to the pantry fridge.
Around this time, the shelves were usually emptier. Only one or two transparent containers remained, so spotting yours should’ve been easy, the pink lunchbox. Your trusted Tupperware.
Of course your food deserved the best of the best. Duh.
You picked it up.
And immediately, something felt… off.
There was a sauce stain around the lid. And now that you thought about it somehow felt lighter than it had that morning.
You frowned but didn’t overthink it.
Until you opened it.
Your steak was…
Gone.
Like, all gone.
Your thick, juicy steak. Your fluffy rice. Your vegetables drowned lovingly in gravy.
Vanished.
Your stomach growled again as you blinked down at the empty container.
You weren’t just hungry. You were starving.
A small, devastated wail almost slipped out of you.
How could someone steal another person’s lunch? That was straight-up cruel. There was absolutely no excuse to think someone needed it more than you.
If anything, you needed it the most.
Because you deserved it. After all the prep. The early alarm. The effort.
You inhaled slowly, trying to be rational.
It would be wildly unprofessional for someone from the PR team to crash out over stolen food. So fine. You’d handle this professionally.
You pulled out your phone and speed-dialed HR. It was important to keep essential contacts ready. That’s what Seungkwan always said.
The call connected.
“Hello, this is Hyunsuk from Human Resources,” a flat voice answered. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, Hyunsuk. I’d like to report a theft.”
“Okay,” he replied. “What was stolen?”
You didn’t hesitate. “My lunch.”
There was a brief pause.
“Was it during company hours or on company property?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot compensate for your loss.”
You frowned. “I don’t want compensation, Hyunsuk.”
You swore you could hear him sigh. “An employee’s lunch is considered personal property.”
“Yes, but isn’t it concerning that theft is happening on company grounds?”
“We have cases like this happen very often,” he said. “The company is not responsible for them.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“If you have anything else to report, please send an email,” he cut in. “My lunch break is starting.”
The line went dead.
Hyunsuk hung up.
You stared at your phone in disbelief. “…But my hamburg steak…”
Your eye twitched.
He just said it happens often.
Then do something about it?
“Whatever. Nobody even likes Hyunsuk.”
In fact, you weren’t sure he liked anyone at all.
With nothing else you could do, you begrudgingly poured yourself a lukewarm cup of coffee and returned to your desk with empty stomach, extra caffeine, and a growing vendetta.
The next day, you decided to let it go.
Okay, maybe you were being too forgiving. But hey, you were just hangry yesterday. Surely it was a one-time thing.
Still, the way Hyunsuk said these “theft incidents” happened often baffled you. As if they were normalizing it.
Like, what’s even the function of all those security cameras around the office?
If they can draw a hard line on “no inappropriate office activities,” then surely they can give justice to your stolen lunch too.
Crazy.
The last time people went into the pantry, they literally saw used condoms in the bin. Goodness gracious, as if the toilet didn’t exist. You’d rather not walk past and hear… unwanted noises either.
You did consider writing a company-wide email and CC’ing everyone. After all, who the hell knew who ate your lunch?
You refused to take this as egg-ceptance.
…Maybe not yet.
Despite yesterday’s tragedy, you still brought your lunch today.
After all, you made mapo tofu. And you were not backing down.
How did you make it again?
Oh, right.
Sichuan peppercorns.
While you weren’t a huge fan of overly spicy food, the spice of life played an important role in cooking. You could never forget the nose-numbing aroma of roasted Sichuan pepper. The thick red oil from the fermented bean paste. The firm, bouncy cubes of tofu holding heat so intense it transcended taste buds.
The Mapo Tofu.
You paired it with plain white rice but nothing could overpower the fragrance of chili oil and peppercorns.
It reminded you of that business trip, when Minghao introduced you to mala hotpot and a whole new universe of Chinese spices. You even brought souvenirs back, mostly seasonings to experiment with.
Bless him and his encyclopedic knowledge.
But today’s version?
Different.
Just in case, you doubled the heat. Twice the ground peppercorn. Extra chili flakes. A spice level too powerful for the mortal tongue.
Right before sealing the lid, you sprinkled a little more pepper.
If anyone dared to open your lunch, a red powdery explosion would await them.
Maybe you did this on purpose.
If they stole it again, you hoped their ass would explode in the toilet like that scene in White Chicks.
Serves them right.
…
Lunch break came.
You approached the fridge like a soldier returning to war.
You prayed the thief hadn’t struck again.
But the moment you picked up your Tupperware, the weight or lack of it—felt ominous.
You opened it and found it was already gone.
Again.
Empty.
But how? Why?
First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, who the hell devoured that hellishly spicy mapo tofu? Surely their stomach would declare war soon.
And third…
What. The. Fuck.
Who was this food-crazed glutton?
“…Wait,” you muttered to yourself. “If someone ate my super spicy Sichuan mapo tofu, their lips should be bright red right now!”
You didn’t hesitate.
Within the remaining minutes of your break, you scanned the entire floor like a detective on a mission.
Red lips. Red lips. Red lips.
But to no avail.
Your pepper-kissed burglar was nowhere to be found.
Much to your annoyance, there were simply too many employees in this company. Half of them wore bold red lipstick anyway. You couldn’t tell if it was spice-induced inflammation or just cosmetics.
You didn’t care.
You just wanted the rat-stealing-food burglar.
It was almost time to go home but unfortunately, a major project was in peak season. Several departments had to stay for overtime.
Including yours.
No one liked overtime.
Sure, you got paid. But was it worth it?
Maybe you should start your own business one day. Open a brunch café. Lower stress. Maybe finally use your bachelor’s degree properly.
You sighed.
Seokmin had given you a small box of macarons earlier after seeing the fury on your face but you hadn’t eaten them. You refused to fill your stomach with pity sweets. Too busy drowning in despair and caffeine as you typed aggressively at your keyboard.
The loud clacking and flipping of papers earned you a few glances.
You didn’t care.
Your food had been stolen. Twice.
Why should you care about their peace when they didn’t care about yours?
Fair is fair.
Eventually, you brushed it off and went downstairs to the convenience store before returning to the office. Instant noodles and sausages.
How classic.
You weren’t alone though.
There was a guy sitting a few seats away. Still in work clothes. His blazer hung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled just above his elbows. He was eating two cups of buldak ramen, the spicy kind.
It reminded you of your Sichuan mapo tofu.
You felt like you were mourning a loss.
And for some reason, you caught a faint scent of pepper clinging to his suit.
Maybe you were imagining it.
People had been avoiding you all day anyway, some even spraying air freshener after you walked past.
Still, you kept glancing at him.
Was it common for two people to coincidentally crave spicy food on the same day? Watching him slurp down two buldak ramens made your stomach twist.
Noticing your stare, he paused.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to you. “You got some staring problem?”
His voice was deep and calm but the tone carried an edge.
“What?”
“I said,” he continued, face still stoic, cheeks slightly puffed with noodles, “got some staring problem? I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude?”
You blinked.
“Excuse me?”
Now it was your turn to feel offended.
You almost apologized earlier. Good thing that you didn’t.
This guy is insufferable.
Judging by his face alone, of course he was. The only good thing about him was his face. And unfortunately, the bad thing was also his face. What a waste of something that pretty.
You couldn’t help but hope there was at least one imperfect thing about him. Maybe his personality was rotten. Maybe he snored. Maybe—
Whatever.
You just hoped his dick is ugly. Then again, no dick is ever pretty anyway.
“Rude…” you muttered under your breath before returning to your convenience-store “meal.”
After a while, you finished dinner and headed back into the company building, americano in hand.
And much to your surprise—
The guy was there too.
Walking in the same direction.
For a second, you almost thought he was a creep.
And then came the real disappointment.
He fucking worked here.
You nearly lost it on the spot.
Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? People in this company were either painfully dull, aggressively gray, or casually insufferable. If you were lucky, you’d meet someone with a decent moral compass.
Rare species.
Standing in the same elevator as him didn’t help. You had a talent for meeting the worst people at the worst possible times.
What’s new?
Still, you caught it again.
That scent. It was faint now but familiar.
The lingering peppery aroma. The same one from your stolen mapo tofu.
Okay. Maybe you were slightly unhinged, grieving over lost lunch.
But still.
You sniffed subtly and shifted a little closer.
The man frowned at you like you’d just malfunctioned.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he said flatly, “if you want to fuck me, you could just say so.”
You blinked.
Excuse me?
Oh, you would absolutely fuck him up alright but that was a different story.
He was insufferable. And irritating him suddenly felt therapeutic.
You scoffed and stepped back into your space.
“You have your entire life to be a jerk,” you shot back. “Why not take today off?”
Now it was his turn to look at you properly.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” he replied calmly, “but I’m guessing it’s difficult to pronounce.”
Oh, he was annoying.
“If I wanted to hear from an asshole,” you said sweetly, “I’d fart.”
There was a brief silence.
He stared at you.
You stared back.
He genuinely looked like he was calculating whether you were capable of doing it.
The elevator doors slid open.
You stepped out first.
“See you not later, Mr. Hodenkobold.”
He looked like he was about to fire back but the doors closed before he could.
For once, it felt nice to rage-bait someone else.
Especially after your lunch had been stolen.
So you decided.
For the next two days, you were going to catch the rat-stealing-lunch and end this once and for all.
For a brief, dangerous second, you did consider rat poison. But the thought of going to jail?
Absolutely not.
As tempting as it was, you couldn’t risk it. You had a baby to feed back at your studio apartment.
Your cat.
While you were suffering over your stolen gourmet lunches, your cat—Wonton, the name you lovingly gave her, was happily eating premium-grade cat food.
It was unfair. Really.
So you came up with a plan.
This time, you packed a cute bento-themed lunchbox: omelet nori rolls and rice balls.
Except—
They were made of wax.
Yes. Wax.
You followed a YouTube tutorial. Styrofoam base. Acrylic paint for texture. You even added gloss to make it look freshly glazed. Turns out, you had raw talent for this.
It looked absolutely gouda. An egg-cellent fake lunchbox.
You were certain the food stealer was souper hungry right now.
Okay. You really needed to stop hanging out with Seokmin and his endless food puns.
You even added a faint pepper scent to make it smell convincing. Surely no one was dumb enough to fall for fake food.
…Right?
But if they did? It would be hilarious.
…
When you returned at lunch break and opened the lid, you froze.
“….”
There was one—no, two chunks missing.
A bite taken out of the fake omelet.
You blinked.
What kind of unhinged human gluttony was this?
You couldn’t brie-lieve it.
They actually ate the wax.
The next day, you switched tactics.
You made curry fish head, rich curry paste blooming in oil, coconut milk thickening the broth just the way you liked it. You had to thank Minghao again for that Southeast Asia culinary expedition.
This time?
Untouched.
The container was slightly shifted, the lid smudged but the food remained intact.
You assumed the thief wasn’t a seafood fan.
Or maybe allergic.
That theory lasted exactly twenty-four hours.
The following day, you packed creamy rosé pasta with shrimp and clams. Garnished with basil. Sprinkled with oregano. And, of course, little octopus-shaped cocktail sausages.
For insurance, you taped a note to the lid:
you
do not touch.
i will find you. bon appetit, mf.
You stuck it firmly on top of your Tupperware.
Surely this would intimidate them.
Surely.
...
You returned during lunch break and immediately noticed the note had slipped to the floor.
You picked it up.
Your handwriting stared back at you.
And underneath—
you.
do not touch.
i will find you. bon appetit, mf.
"𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘"
You stared at it in disbelief at the bold, neat handwriting.
Slowly, you lifted the paper then tore it to shreds with your teeth, pure rage simmering in your veins.
The audacity must be on clearance sale.
When you opened the container, your jaw tightened.
Your pasta? Gone. The noodles devoured and the octopus-shaped sausages? Missing.
The shrimp and clams?
Only to be left behind.
Oh.
So they weren’t allergic.
They were picky.
You clenched your jaw, saliva dampening the dry paper as it scraped against your tongue. “Wow. Tasty, indeed,” you mocked under your breath.
This needs to end now.
You honestly need to lock the fuck in this time, to catch that rat-stealing-food burglar. You just hoped they stepped on dog shit today, that both their pillows smelled horrible, and that they’d have the worst fucking nightmare the moment they woke up.
“Hey,” Seokmin approached you with Soonyoung beside him. “Rice to meet you today.” He greeted cheerily, but the moment he noticed your moody face, he faltered. “Okay… berry sorry for that.”
Both of them leaned against the railings beside you. Soonyoung offered you a lollipop. You needed that so much instead of lighting up tobacco, which you’d quit back in your college days.
“Is it about the lunch stealing again?” he asked. “I carrot believe that person’s kept the stealing streak going this far.”
You gave him a look. It seemed like Seokmin had rubbed off on him with all those food puns.
He raised his hands in surrender. “In my defense, I’m feeling saucy today. It’s alright, we can grab dinner after this—my treat, of course.” Soonyoung tried to reassure you, knowing how furious you get when your food gets stolen.
“Yeah, let’s meat up for dinner!” Seokmin chimed in, making you roll your eyes.
Wait.
That’s it.
You have to meet that fucking rat-stealer face to face.
...
This time, you made your well-crafted most scrumptious, katsu sandwich. Cut in halves, three thick slices stacked neatly inside your Chiikawa-pattern container. Minghao had given it to you after his business trip to Japan, and you gladly accepted it since the cartoon was trending everywhere lately.
You liked the yellow rabbit character. It reminded you of yourself because he’s a big back.
Just like you.
Anyway.
You were not about to let your lunch get taken away this time.
And this time, you were going to protect it like it mattered more than your own life. For the sake of your health insurance, you tried not to pounce on that food burglar.
You were not about to let your money, sweat, and time go to waste again.
Now that you think about it, you probably should’ve shown up ten minutes earlier before catching the culprit.
Standing from your seat, you headed toward the office pantry and peeked inside.
You couldn’t believe your eyes.
Someone was hunching over the fridge, hand hovering over the transparent containers then toward your Chiikawa lunchbox.
“Hm, this is new…” he murmured. “…and tacky.”
Excuse me?
You weren’t about to back down when someone literally mocked your precious lunchbox pattern. So what? You liked when your mom packed your food in a Hello Kitty container with those little fruit picks shaped like cat ears.
You cleared your throat to catch his attention. He jumped slightly, straightening up.
“Isn’t it too early for lunch break?” you asked, slowly approaching him, arms crossed.
He blinked.
It was the same four-eyed dude who inhaled two fire spicy bowl ramens the other day. You almost scoffed.
“You again,” he echoed. “And who are you?”
He still stood there, relaxed like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.
“Me?” you repeated nonchalantly. “I’m not that important. Rather, why don’t we start with you, buddy.”
He looked like he didn’t want to continue this conversation. Probably hoping you’d leave.
Fine.
You indulged him for a moment and gave your name. When he finally replied, you learned his.
Jeon fucking Wonwoo.
You plastered a smile on your face. He turned away, ignoring you. The two of you just stood there for a few tense seconds.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked, sounding impatient.
“How’s that coffee?” you shot back, blatantly ignoring his question.
Wonwoo frowned, more like bristled at it, as if offended.
“Why would I drink that slimy brown liquid?” he said. “Don’t tell me… you drink that thing?”
“It’s not that bad,” you shrugged.
(It absolutely sucks.)
He chuckled, clearly mocking you. “You sound like you hate yourself.”
Oh, he’s so cocky.
Three days. Three days you’ve suffered because of this stealing bitch.
“Actually…” you stepped closer. “What did you do these past few days?”
He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Why? It’s a workweek. What else would I be doing?”
You weren’t buying it. “Do you always come to the pantry this often?”
“…I mean, I have to eat,” he replied like it was obvious. “Of course I come here.”
“Wow, me too!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “I have an idea—why don’t we eat together then?”
That made him falter.
He suddenly looked uneasy at your smile. Like you were plotting something.
“…No, thank you. I prefer eating alone. Now can you leave?”
“Why not?” You stepped closer, almost chest to chest even though he was much taller.
He stiffened but tried to maintain composure, clearing his throat before a grin slowly spread across his face.
“I see. If you wanted me so much, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself at me like that,” he chuckled lowly, eyes dragging down your figure. “All you had to do was ask.”
Your smile dropped instantly and stepped back.
You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face. That smug look made you want to chop off all his limbs.
“Oh, don’t lose that smile,” he tutted. “I’d rather think that mouth could do better. Maybe you’d be my cup of tea. Either way, it’s cheesed to meet you, Miss ____.”
Hell nah.
You were not backing down either.
Smiling sweetly, you replied, “You know what else my mouth could do, Mr. Jeon?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Hurt your feelings. I think dildo is a perfectly acceptable insult. I’d call you a dick—but you’re not real enough.”
That caught him off guard.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
For the first time, Jeon Wonwoo didn’t know what to say.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smiled. “Or maybe my words are true—your dick isn’t that real.”
His eyes darkened as he stepped forward.
“Watch it. Say that again and I’ll put that mouth to good use.”
And then—
A sudden loud gasp from behind.
Both of you turned toward the doorway to see Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung frozen in place, hands dramatically covering their mouths.
“You heard that, guys?!” Seungkwan gasped. “What the fudge—she was about to get dicked down!”
Seokmin clutched Soonyoung’s arm. “Look at them pudding up against each other! They’re both nuts!”
“That’s tea-rrific,” Soonyoung added, “but whisk I’m willing to take for a pear like this!”
“GET OUT OF HERE!” you and Wonwoo barked simultaneously.
In the end, you shared your katsu sandwich with him.
Somehow, it turned into a mutual rant session about Hyunsuk. No one likes him anyway. Glad you’re both on the same boat.
He ended up taking you to dine at a downtown French bistro. Claimed it was “compensation.” Not that you were entirely forgiving about it.
You learned he works in the legal department. Recently promoted. Employee of the Month. Overworked to death.
“So, do you not have a life then?” you asked, noticing he’d loosened two buttons of his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up.
He’s handsome.
Annoyingly attractive.
If only he’d shut up.
But again, no attractive person should be forgiven for food stealing. Especially your lunch.
“I did,” he said, sipping his wine. “Until they put me to work.”
You nodded slowly. Then circled back.
“You could’ve just ordered takeaway. Why my lunch?”
He grinned, leaning back. “Why? Your lunch, of course. Yours is the best I’ve tasted so far.”
The audacity.
Rich in audacity. Poor manners.
“So… what would you like to order?” the waiter asked.
“Right. Food.” Wonwoo skimmed the menu.
“What do you recommend?” you asked.
He hummed, closing the menu and looking directly at you. “Anything that tastes good.”
Your throat dried slightly. Maybe you’re imagining things.
“Oh? Like what?”
“Meat.”
Silence.
“…Okay. I’ll just get ratatouille.”
“But that’s all vegetables.”
“Shut up, meathead.”
The waiter coughed. “How cooked would you like your steak, sir?”
Wonwoo was still looking at you.
“Make it medium rare. And make it two,” you smiled. “I’d like a piece of meat too.”
The waiter jolted and left immediately.
“How long have you been stealing?” you circled back.
He sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to do that—well, that was until I met you.”
“M-me?”
“Your lunch.”
Oh.
“I don’t like takeaways. I used to live with my roommate, Mingyu. He cooked for both of us until I moved into my own apartment,” he said. “And I can’t cook for shit.”
“Can tell,” you replied smoothly. “Your personality is probably as shitty as your cooking.”
He glared.
You smiled.
“Watch that,” he warned. “I’m definitely putting that smart mouth to good use—”
“Shut up. Save it for later. I’m not riding that fake dick.”
“…”
Silence.
You took a sip of wine, scanning the dim lights of the restaurant. Fine dining. Expensive plates. His salary was probably double yours anyway.
“Here’s the deal,” you said. “Stop eating my lunch. That’s it.”
He considered. “Fine. I’ll pay for your groceries. How about that?”
“Nah.”
Wonwoo frowned, fingers lacing together. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I really don’t like the dripping coffee machine. And the cafeteria sucks. And I hate that the caterer keeps slipping her phone number onto my tray.”
“All I ate were ham and cream cheese bagels,” he continued. “Depressing, I know.”
You raised a brow, unimpressed. “Why not? For an attention whore like you, I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“She’s married. With five kids.”
“….”
Okay. Fair enough.
“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll bite.”
His eyes lit up.
He almost reached across the table, close to your hand then thought better of it and grabbed the napkins instead.
“Can I go to your place after this?” he asked suddenly.
You nearly choked on your wine. “Excuse me? Aren’t we going too fast?”
“To inspect your goods,” he deadpanned. “Your fridge.”
Yeah.
He’s definitely messing with you.
You did let him come back to your studio apartment, after all the groceries were paid for by him, of course. In return, you taught him how to make the katsu sandwich he’d been annoyingly edging about all night.
And yes, it turns out he really doesn’t like seafood. Wonwoo said it upsets his stomach, and once was enough for him to swear it off forever.
You set the groceries aside just as your cat greeted you, weaving around your ankles while you washed your hands, Wonwoo hovering awkwardly behind you.
Your place was cozy. Very you, he thought.
“Who’s this little companion?” he asked, crouching down to pet your white Persian cat. “Got a name?” He glanced up at you, finally noticing the frilly apron you were wearing.
“Wonton,” you said, peeling onions as you passed him another apron, this one reading Kiss the Cook.
He slipped it over his head without complaint. “That’s funny. Do you have a food phase or something?”
Now that you thought about it… yeah.
“Yeah. I got dumpling takeaway that night, and she was inside the box when she was still a kitten. So I named her Wonton.”
The rest of the time, you walked him through each step carefully.
“So,” he said casually, “how often do you pound the meat?”
Silence.
You looked up.
He looked back, utterly oblivious. “The fried chicken sandwich yesterday was delectable.”
“Not much,” you muttered, going back to chopping potatoes. “Other than salty food—do you like sweets?”
He hummed while dipping the meat into egg batter and breadcrumbs. “Not really to be exact. I had it during a business trip in Europe. I don’t remember what it’s called. Something like… quickie?”
Your knife froze mid-chop.
“…Quiche,” you corrected. “It’s called quiche, Wonwoo.”
His face lit up, nodding like he’d just learned a new word.
For a moment, you wondered if he was messing with you but the genuine reaction told you otherwise.
“Are you messing with me?”
He blinked. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
You didn’t push it. It was pointless.
“Why can’t you cook?” you asked instead, lowering the coated meat into hot oil.
“Well, there’s this thing called ‘I just don’t,’” he said. “I once almost ate half-burnt scrambled eggs and decided never again.”
You scoffed. “It costs nothing to be kind with your words, you know.”
“Some days it costs me my fucking sanity, honey,” he shot back, eyes sharp.
Which would’ve been intimidating if he weren’t wearing that Kiss the Cook apron.
Your mom was right. There’s nothing romantic about cooking together. Move the fuck away.
“You know what?” you said. “Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go left, and you go fuck yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he grinned. “Just don’t ogle me when I pound my meat. I’d know myself for the whole course of the meal.”
He’s so hot. If only he shut up.
“Calling yourself a meal when you’ve had an STD?” you said, setting the fried cutlet aside. “Okay, food poisoning.”
He frowned. “I’d have you know I’m very healthy and clean. So you’re safe.”
“No one said I’d fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” you replied. “But after we finish this, I’ll have my way with you later.”
“…..”
“So,” he said, scanning your apartment. “You live like this while working at a million-dollar company?”
“I live alone,” you shrugged, cutting the sandwich in half and handing it to him. “No reason for a big place. I do need a spacious kitchen, though.”
He nodded, biting into it. “Fair. What about a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“Don’t have time for that.”
“It’s alright,” you added. “At least I get to rest on weekends. What about you? Hobbies?”
He hummed. “I dissociate. I play games. And lately, my bed is the only thing calling me.”
“Oh,” you said. “Then… hookups?”
He leaned closer, smirking. “Are you offering?”
“Hell no,” you said immediately. “I don’t have the energy.”
“For what?”
You gestured at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Half of your personality is just symptoms.”
“Your mom.”
“My mom passed away four years ago,” he said simply.
Well. That rhymed.
Silence stretched between you.
You swallowed. “…Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “It’s been a while. I still miss her.”
Another quiet beat.
“So…” you said carefully, “wanna catch up on Bridgerton?”
...
That night, you both sat on the couch with a noticeable gap between you, a cushion clutched to your chest like a shield.
The room was dim, lit only by the TV. Surprisingly, he was fully invested in Bridgerton. What was supposed to be one episode turned into a full marathon.
For some reason, it felt intimate.
Jeon Wonwoo, your coworker. The man who stole your lunch for a week. Also, the cause of your suffering.
Insufferable. Infuriating. Hot as fuck.
It would be a lie to say you’d never found him attractive. Well, except for that foul mouth. Not that you were any better.
The problem with this show was the sex scenes.
You’d completely forgotten how many there were.
Every time one came on, you felt the urge to skip it but Wonwoo didn’t move. He watched with the same unreadable expression, completely composed like poker-faced.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking inside his head.
Another scene started.
Just great.
You were very aware of how you shifted slightly, how your fingers tightened around the cushion, how your knees pressed together. The small breath you exhaled without meaning to.
The couch shifted.
He turned his head toward you.
He definitely noticed and yet, he said nothing. That somehow made it worse.
Because he remembered the way you talked to him.
The insults. The degradation. The way you never backed down.
Fuck.
Maybe that’s what did it.
Maybe Jeon Wonwoo was turned on by the way you spoke to him like you weren’t afraid.
“Do you want to make out and make noises?” he asked suddenly, looking at you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You blinked.
For a moment, your brain short-circuited.
Then you thought: when else are you going to get the chance to make out with a disgustingly attractive man like this?
Exactly.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you muttered, dropping the cushion before swinging a leg over his lap.
“Hell yeah,” he breathed.
His hands found your hips instantly.
The kiss wasn’t gentle.
It was messy. Almost clumsy at first, teeth knocking, breaths uneven but it quickly deepened. His mouth moved slowly against yours, deliberate now. One hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, holding you there.
You let out a soft sound against his mouth without meaning to.
Your body pressed closer.
He let out a low groan, restrained but it vibrated against your lips. You could feel his hardness pressed against yours, and it’s big.
When his tongue brushed yours, it wasn’t rushed. It was slow and intentional. Like he was testing how much you’d let him have.
You were already giving too much.
Time blurred.
When you finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe. A thin string of saliva caught in the dim light before breaking.
He looked up at you, and whatever was in his eyes now wasn’t smugness.
It was hunger.
Like he hadn’t had enough.
His head leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed yours as he murmured, “…I want you,” he breathed. “Please. I need to have you tonight.”
Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. The way his ragged breath fanned against your lips.
His hand wandered, softly caressing your back before sliding lower to grip your ass, making you jump slightly.
He grinned at your reaction. “Is that a yes?” he chuckled lowly, squeezing more firmly this time, drawing a gasp from you as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders.
“Cute,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips before looking up at you again. “…I need that pretty mouth of yours working now, since you’ve been such a smartass with me the whole time.”
Something about his piercing gaze made the heat pool low in your stomach. God, his commanding voice alone was enough to make you melt like chocolate left out too long under the sun.
You’re not a masochist, of course.
His thumb traced slowly over your lips before pressing gently, parting them as he slid the pad of his thumb just inside. His voice dropped.
“Get on your knees. Now.”
Did you listen? Hell yeah.
“Normally, I wouldn’t get on my knees for a man, but here I am,” you muttered as you moved between his thighs, while he spread his legs slightly, working at his belt and the sleek pants he’d worn earlier to dinner.
“I’m flattered to be the first man,” he chuckled. You could see the damp, slight pre-cum stain against his boxer. Then pulling the underwear down to reveal his shaft.
Giving a few pumps as he strokes his dick, groaning as his head goes over the couch. “Fuck, now go make use of that pretty mouth, baby.”
You breathe out, seeing that shafts make you hesitate a bit. Okay, that was a real dick; you take that back for insulting and calling his stupid dick fake.
Slowly wrapping your delicate hands around his shaft, you glance up to see his head thrown over the couch as you give a kiss on the tip of his cockhead.
His breath hitched as he watched you kneel between his legs, those soft eyes looking up at him with a mix of nervousness and determination. The sight alone made his cock throb harder in your gentle grip.
"Fuck..." he breathed out, his head tilting back against the couch cushion as he felt your lips brush against his sensitive tip.
His fingers instinctively tangled in your long wavy brown hair, not pulling but just... holding on. Grounding himself. The way your hands wrapped around his shaft made him stroke himself slower, more deliberately, letting you set the pace.
"You're so fucking pretty like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low as he watched your every move. "But you know what... I don't want your hands right now."
He gently guided your head down, his cock pressing against your lips as he guided you to take him in. Not all at once, he didn't want to make you gag or feel uncomfortable. Just... enough to feel you.
"Mmm... that's it," he groaned softly, his other hand moving to cup the back of your head possessively. "Use that pretty mouth of yours now. I want to hear from you."
His hips gave a subtle thrust, not demanding but encouraging. His eyes stayed locked on you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the wet sounds filling the room.
"Christ... you're incredible," he breathed, his thumb stroking along your jawline tenderly despite the rough situation.
You stiffen slightly, feeling his whole length around your mouth. Slowly making your jaw work as you bobbed your head, sucking him good.
He stopped you mid-blowjob, pulling you up by your waist with surprising strength. The way you were panting, lips swollen from worshipping his cock, made him nearly lose control entirely.
"Fuck... you look so good like this," he growled, his voice strained as he guided you toward the bed.
Setting you down gently on the mattress, he immediately followed, positioning himself between your thighs. His hands pushed your skirt up slowly, deliberately, savoring how exposed you were for him.
"Shit…" he breathed, his eyes darkening as he stared at your glistening core. "So fucking wet for me already."
Without hesitation, he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, his tongue immediately seeking out your clit. The taste of you made him groan against your sensitive flesh.
"Mmm... fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles. "Let me eat you properly before I take you."
His fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading you wider as he feasted on you with renewed focus, determined to make you come on his tongue first.
You gasped sharply, your palm flying to your mouth, feeling his mouth dive in like a starved man. He knows exactly what you need to push you over the edge. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close.
He laughs against your core, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair. It made him groan with satisfaction. The way your body trembled beneath his mouth, your gasps growing louder.
It was fucking intoxicating.
He continues to lap on your cunt, wanting you to come undone by his tongue. He could feel you’re coming close as he works closer and closer to the edge. His fingers thrust in and out of you, over and over again.
“Fuck— you’re so close already,” he murmured against your soaked folds, his tongue working faster now. “Let go baby, let me taste it.”
You could feel your orgasm coming closer as he kept pumping into you. When you finally came, his fingers still pumping inside you, he felt your walls clench around him rhythmically. The sight of you completely undone, head thrown back as pleasure washed over you— it made him nearly lose control too.
You swore you almost saw stars and later, he was going to make you see the entire fucking galaxy once he was inside you.
“God, you look so beautiful like this,” he breathed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you with a soft, wet sound. “So fucking beautiful when you let go.”
You gave him a weak tap, blinking as you tried to catch your breath. God, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Or maybe no one had ever made you feel this good.
It was embarrassing to let him see you like this. Kind of pathetic, honestly, to get so worked up just from being eaten out.
Wonwoo chuckled, settling himself between your thighs as he looked down at you, almost menacingly. “Take your time, sweet pea. I’m not done with you yet.”
Then, surprisingly, he said something reasonable. “Just to make sure—give me a safe word.”
You blinked, finally propping yourself up on your elbows against the mattress as you considered it.
“Strawberry,” you said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Make it shorter. Do you think you can say that before I pound you like dough?”
You huffed. “Cherry, then.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned in to kiss you again but stopped midway. “I don’t have condoms, though…”
And you weren’t on pills. You couldn’t blame him. No one had expected this to happen.
You checked the drawer beside your bed. It had probably been sitting there for two years, back when you never expected there’d be a man in your life again.
When you handed it to him, he bristled, letting out a laugh and flashing a cocky grin. “This isn’t my size, sugarplum. It’s alright—I’ll pull out immediately,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your temple then running his hands along your curves possessively.
He sheathed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, yet something raw, almost vulnerable flickered across his expression.
“I’m clean,” he murmured, his voice more serious now. “And I’ve never done this without protection before. So… yeah.” His gaze softened just slightly. “I’m trusting you, too.”
You let out a small whimper, feeling himself positioned at your entrance, his cock pressing against your wet heat. His thumbs framed your face, cradling it gently.
“Tell me you want this,” he said softly, eyes searching yours. “Tell me you want me inside you bare.” His hips gave a small thrust, just teasing waiting for your answer.
Almost cussing out at him for purposely made you feel this way, you breathe out almost pleadingly despite your bite. “...you asshole, stop playing—” you sharply inhaled when he thrusted his cock inside you.
He felt you gasp as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you open slowly.
Fucking hell.
The way you clenched around him immediately made him grit his teeth, might as well come inside you at this point.
“Fuck…” he breathed out, his hands moving to grip your hips. “So tight…fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He didn’t slam in, he took his time, letting you adjust to him. The way your walls squeezed him rhythmically was almost too much, but he forced himself to stay controlled.
And you—you never felt so fucking amazing right now. You think you might ascend to heaven. Eyes rolling over with your grip tightens on the sheets.
“Still with me, sweet pea?” he asked, voice strained as he hilted himself completely inside you.
You nodded slowly at him, murmured softly, “...yeah…you can move faster now.”
His fingers dug into your skin slightly, not quite bruising but definitely holding on tight. Breath hitched when you finally gave him permission, that single nod making his control slip dangerously. The way your walls were already clenching around him was driving him insane.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed out, hips already starting to move. He pulled back slowly, feeling every inch of you squeeze around him then thrust forward with more purpose. The wet sounds of your tangled bodies filled the room.
Your poor cat, Wonton, is already scurrying away somewhere.
He could feel your body trembling beneath him, and it made something possessive ignite in him. He wanted every gasp, every moan and every shudder of pleasure entirely for himself.
His thrusts became faster, more desperate as his breath came in harsh pants against your neck. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded softly, one hand moving to cup your chin, fracking you to look at him. "Tell me when you’re close.”
His cock throbbed inside you, pre-cum leaking out but he was determined to make this last. To make you feel as good as you made him feel earlier with that perfect, needy mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he admitted breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “But I’m not pulling out until I see you completely destroyed…”
...on my cock.” you heard him finished, his voice thick with need.
God, you can’t even talk properly with him. Did he just fucked you this good?
His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp. The change in rhythm was almost punishing— harder, faster and deeper. Each thrust he gave, sent pleasure spiraling through your waves, making your toes curl and your visions blur.
“Fuck…fuck— Wonwoo! You cried out, back arching off the bed slightly as he drove into you relentlessly.
One of his hands moved from your hip to your hair, fisting it rough;y and tilting your head back. His lips crashed against yours in a desperate, messy kiss that tasted like desperation and need.
“Say my name while I fuck you.” He demanded between kisses, his other hand moving to your throat, just barely pressing, not choking but claiming.
“Wonwoo!” you sobbed into the kiss, voice breaking.
It was all too much. His mouth on yours, hands on you and the way he was fucking you like he wanted to imprint himself on your very soul. Your orgasm built faster than you could handle, climbing higher and higher until you were breathless and dizzy.
“I’m—oh god— I’m—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your inner walls clamping down around him.
He felt you come, your body shaking and clenching around his cock, and it was his undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside then immediately pulled out as he promised. His remains spilled on your stomach, giving a few last pumps as he stays there.
“Fuck… fuck…” he breathed against your neck, his body collapsing onto yours as aftershocks rippled through both of you.
You stayed like that for a while, limbs tangled, your body slowly growing heavy with exhaustion.
But goddamn. That was the best sex you’d ever had.
(You’d only had, like, two back in school, but whatever.)
Just when you thought he was finished, he lifted his head and looked down at you before finally shrugging off the dress shirt that had been hanging open. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the lean muscle beneath.
God, you silently thanked the heavens for giving you an asshole that looked like him.
Grinning cockily, he hovered over you, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Oh, I’m not done yet, honeybun. That was just the appetizer. We still have the full course and dessert.”
Okay, maybe you should’ve bought the condoms and pills when you were grocery shopping with him.
“Now strip bare before I devour you for real.” He smacked your ass and squeezed, making you yelp.
The rest was history.
The next morning. Thank heavens it was Saturday. You would not have survived this if it were Monday and a workweek.
You fumbled beneath the comforter, still half-asleep. Then it hit you.
You’d been dicked down by the most insufferable, food-thieving man alive.
Slowly, you sat up, immediately feeling the soreness between your thighs.
Thanks a lot to that bastard for bottoming you out so good.
And you loved every single second of it.
Noticing the empty space beside you, your gaze drifted across the room—only to find him in nothing but his boxers, crouched beside Wonton, your cat. It looked like he’d already fed her.
Wow.
The sight of him watching your cat eat was almost… innocent.
Was that really the same person who pounded you like a beast last night?
Whatever.
You looked down and realized you were wearing his dress shirt. He probably cleaned you up before you passed out.
Pushing yourself out of bed, you shuffled toward the kitchen. You were starving, might as well whip something up.
He noticed you rummaging through the fridge and followed after you.
“Morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist as you worked at the counter. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Me,” you joked.
He immediately groped your chest, making you yelp as you slapped his hands away.
He didn’t look sorry at all. “You said it. I’m just taking what I want,” he grinned against your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.
“Let’s get married,” he suddenly said. “I need you for a lifetime.”
You hummed thoughtfully while whisking the pancake batter. “For what? The food or the sex?”
“Both,” he confirmed easily. “I already paid for the groceries. I’m basically your wallet at this point. Marry me and you get both—my dick and my money.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
His arms tightened around you as he added, “Then I can finally fuck you without using those damn condoms and pills.”
That made you turn to look at him, eyebrow raised as he flashed that stupidly annoying grin.
“Was that a threat?”
“A promise,” he corrected. “We’d make a great pear. And I wouldn’t mind putting a few little peanuts in you.”
He nuzzled your nape like an oversized cat.
You stared at him in disbelief.
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah,” he said smoothly. “I’m nuts for you, sweetie pie.”
Since that day, you kept seeing Wonwoo during lunch breaks at work.
With a price, of course. The lunch arrangement.
For some reason, you couldn’t help but notice the change in his personality. Well… he’d been a lot nicer lately.
And it scared the shit out of you.
You’d rather have him insufferable as always, wearing that stupid cocky grin.
Okay, maybe not. That was too annoying. You weren’t sure you could restrain your fist from connecting with his majestic face.
“Have you been sitting in all that sugar you bake with? Because you’ve got a sweet butt,” Wonwoo suddenly said.
A loud crash echoed through the kitchen as you dropped the baking tray in your hands, staring at him in horror.
Noticing your mortified expression, he took a step back. “Sorry. Too forward?”
He’d been crashing at your place again, insisting on driving you home as an excuse to spend more time together.
“Have you been laying in sugar, sweetheart?” he tried again. “Because you’re looking pretty sweet. Is that better?” he asked, almost apologetically.
You honestly didn’t know what to say, setting the meatloaf aside.
“I mean…” you started slowly, “…you always smack my ass whenever you get the chance, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it when I’m about to get into the passenger seat.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I think all of you are sweet, really.” Then he added, “I can tell your parents were bakers—they’d have to be to make a cutie pie like you.”
You blinked, finally turning to look at him. “…Well, my mom was a baker. And my brother owns a café, so yeah. Technically.”
“Wait, really?” he asked, momentarily dropping the act. “Why didn’t I know that?”
“You never asked,” you replied simply, waving him off. “By the way, what’s with all these cheesy pick-up lines? Where did you even learn them?”
Completely ignoring your question, he continued, “Are you bread? Because you’re the loaf of my life.”
Your lips twitched. “Okay, now you’re up to something. Did you lose a bet?”
“I think I’ve got cavities, because you’re too sweet.”
You chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter in your pink frilly apron. “If you’re trying to seduce me into baking cookies, you could’ve just asked.”
“I don’t know about cookies,” he shot back smoothly, “but you and I would bake a great couple.”
Your smile widened as you pushed off the counter and slowly walked toward him. “Oh? Is that what you think?”
He audibly gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you approach.
“Did you just come out of the oven?” he continued weakly. “Because you’re hot.”
You let out a soft giggle, stopping in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if I’m scared of you or attracted to you.”
His hands naturally found your waist. “Marry me, please. Let me be your husband. I’ll take care of you… and our little peanut. Soon.” He nuzzled into your neck.
Smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, Won,” you murmured, “if you want something sweet, there’s plenty of sugar right here.”
You tapped your lips playfully. He didn’t hesitate before pressing his mouth to yours.
A moment later, you both pulled back, laughing and giggling like idiots, foreheads resting against each other.
“By the way,” you asked softly, “where did you even learn those pick-up lines?”
He paused, thinking for a second.
“Jeonghan,” he said simply.
Ah.
Of course.
You never liked him. Same department as Wonwoo…just more obnoxious.
He definitely put him up to this on purpose.
One thing you actually learned from your mother's advice that surprisingly worked was that the fastest way into a man’s heart was through his stomach.
Turns out, he stopped stealing your food. He found something sweeter to keep instead.
FIN.
A/N: once again, thanks a lot for staying until the end, apples!! finally we've come to the end. if you're interested in more of my fics, feel free to check my page and my masterlist, if any of you guys are interested include in my taglist, feel free to sign in the form link.
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Summary: In the opulent kingdom of Hesperos, Jeon Wonwoo, the humble baker's son, is pulled into a life of service when the unconventional Princess Y/N arranges for him to become a Page at age eight. Bound by duty, Wonwoo works his way up through the ranks, his childhood promise evolving into the fierce, silent protection of a knight. As adults, their inseparable closeness deepens into a fierce, unspoken love. However, the political demands of the crown intervene when Y/N is forced to accept an arranged marriage, leaving Knight Wonwoo torn between his sacred vow of Honor to the kingdom and his desperate, hidden devotion to the Princess he swore to protect.
A/N: not BETAD. So any mistakes are my fault 😆🫡
The Realm of Celestra in the Kingdom of Hesperos. 1532.
Jeon Wonwoo had always been a caring person.
Especially when it came to people he loved. Everyone around the village knew him as the baker's boy. The one who would hand out stale bread at the end of the day, the one who tried to treat everyone around him with kindness, but the thing that people really talked about was his relationship with the princess of Hesperos.
She would come down to the bakery everyday at dawn and buy two loaves of bread from them. It was on Wonwoo’s eighth birthday that they met for the first time. His mother and father were preparing a particularly large order from the princess the day before, leaving Wonwoo to tend to the counter.
“Who are you?” She asked Wonwoo. He slightly blushed at her question but knew that it was rude to not answer the princess.
“I’m Jeon Wonwoo, your highness. I’m the baker's son.”
The princess nodded as she watched him look towards the kitchen where his parents hadn't emerged yet.
“Your order is almost ready, but it’ll be twelve dollars,” he informed as the princess nodded and handed him a pouch of coins. He opened the pouch and started to count the coins when the princess interrupted him.
“You can have all the money.”
“What?” Wonwoo asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“You can have all the money. I sure don’t need it,” she said again, smiling watching Wonwoo struggle to say anything back to her.
“Well… umm.. Thank you, your highness,” he said, bowing his head as his parents came out of the kitchen with the bread in a basket.
“Princess!” His mother exclaimed, a big smile coming across her face, “here’s the bread you ordered.”
“Thank you Mrs. Jeon.”
“What are you doing with all the bread?” Wonwoo’s father asked, watching the princess struggle to carry the basket.
“It’s for my brother, he asked for some more so that we can have some for lunch,” she huffed trying to look around the basket.
“Wonwoo, why don’t you help the princess and carry the basket for her?” His father asked. Wonwoo nodded and gently took the basket from the princess’ hands as she sighed.
“Thank you,” she smiled, “do you mind coming to the castle?” Wonwoo looked at his parents who smiled and nodded. “I’ll have the coach-man escort you back home.”
Wonoo nodded and followed the princess out to the carriage. His parents waved from the carriage as it took off leaving him and the princess in silence for a majority of the ride to the palace.
“It’s my birthday today,” Wonwoo stated.
“Wait, what?” Y/N gasped, turning around quickly to face him, her braid nearly hitting her cheek, “how old are you turning?"
“Eight,” he smiled.
“Well happy birthday Wonwoo!” Y/N smiled back at him, as the carriage glided up to the castle.
“Follow me!” she said excitedly, tugging open the door and hopping out. Wonwoo remained seated for a beat, letting the sudden silence wash over him, a warmth blooming in his chest that settled into a gentle smile.
The kitchen was at the back of the castle, which meant Wonwoo got to walk around a bit before he left. Y/N led Wonwoo through a magnificent archway, stopping where a handsome older boy, Prince Jeonghan, was waiting.
“Brother!” Y/N announced, catching the attention of the young prince, “the bread is here!”
Jeonghan glanced at the basket, then his attention settled on Wonwoo, “and you are the one who bore this weight. You must be the baker's son.”
Wonwoo immediately lowered his gaze and bowed his head low. “Your Highness, Jeon Wonoo, at your service. It is my honor to deliver the order.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, noting Wonwoo’s polite deference and the ease with which he held the basked, which was clearly far heavier than the boy his age should carry without strain.
“An honor, you say?” Jeonghan mused, circling Wonwoo slowly. “Most children who visit the bakery simply take the coin. You seem quite humble to volunteer for the delivery.”
“I didn’t volunteer your highness,” Wonwoo admitted, “my father asked me to deliver the bread.”
Jeonghan waved a dismissive hand, “regardless. You show good strength for your age, better manners than most squires we currently employ, and you were honest with me instead of taking the credit for yourself.”
He paused, looking Wonwoo up and down. “I imagine the palace life is a world away from the village bakery. Tell me, Wonwoo, are you fond of horses?”
Wonwoo, still holding the basket in the middle of the hallway, looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in topic.
“I—I have only seen the royal horses from the edges of the stable yard, Your HIghness,” Wonwoo admitted, his voice soft. “But they are magnificent. My father always said a healthy horse is the kingdom's true wealth.”
Jeonghan gave a rare, sharp smile, “a practical outlook. Good. Our stable master is short on reliable hands, and a boy with strong arms and good manners is a valuable commodity. Tell me Wonwoo, how would you like to see that wealth up close? We are in need of bright, strong, lads for our stable service.” He gestured to the castle towering above them. “The opportunity is there. We would offer you a place as a Page, you would care for the royal mounts and run errands throughout the palace. It is hard work, but it offers a proper education and a future far greater than flour dust.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up with excitement, “say yes, Wonwoo! You can stay!”
Wonwoo looked from the Prince to the Princess, his head spinning with the weight of the proposal. He knew this was a monumental chance for his family. He bowed again, the bread basket dipping slightly, “if my parents agree, Your Highness, I would be honored to accept that position and serve.”
Prince Jeonghan was satisfied enough with the answer and nodded. He reached out, gently rubbing the tops of his sisters head, messing up her hair, and gave a brief, sharp smile before turning away and leaving the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.
Y/N immediately smoothed her hair down, ignoring her brother and turned to Wonwoo with a wide smile, “they will agree! This is wonderful, Wonwoo! We’ll see each other everyday!”
Wonwoo nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He knew that it would be hard for his parents to lose him at the bakery and wasn’t sure if they’d agree. He just let Y/N lead him to the kitchen and placed the bread basket on the table, looking around the room at all the food that was being prepared for the day.
“Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Y/N asked Wonwoo, noticing the hungry look in his eyes as he stared at the spread, but he shook his head and politely bowed.
“Thank you for the offer Your Highness, but I must get back to the bakery. Not only do I have a big decision to make, but I have some bread to prove.”
Y/N nodded her head in understanding, before smiling wide. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear your decision!”
Wonwoo offered her one final, quick bow before she led him back through the sprawling hallways and out to the front courtyard where the couch-man was waiting. He climbed into the carriage, the warmth of her smile still blooming in her chest. Knowing that tonight, his simple life as the bakers son was about to change forever.
As soon as the carriage pulled up to the bakery, his parents were waiting for him. He thanked the couch-man who had opened the door for him and slowly approached his parents, who had big smiles on their faces.
“So? How was the castle?” His father asked, as his mother reached out to hold his hand.
“It was nice,” he quietly responded, avoiding their eyes.
His mother squeezed his hand, sensing his sudden reserve, “only nice? You were gone for a while. Did something happen at the castle?”
Wonwoo took a deep breath, trying to be brave. He pulled his parents towards the front door, “could we go inside? I have to tell you something big,” he said, “while I was at the castle I ran into the prince.”
His father’s expression sharpened instantly at the mention of the prince, “the prince?” His father pressed, “What did he say? Did he have a message about the order?”
“He offered me a job,” Wonwoo explained, sitting down between them. “He said I could be a Page at the castle. I would help with the horses and run messages and they would teach me things.” He looked earnestly at his mother, “he said it was a chance to have a great future.”
Both his parents exchanged a shocked look, their faces betraying their astonishment. They had not expected such high regard to be shown toward their son.
“He was impressed that I could carry the bread basket at my age and said that I had good manners.”
His mother smiled warmly at the mention of her son’s kind heart. She sighed, and tenderly brushed some of his messy hair away from his eyes, taking a close, worried look at him. She knew that her son had a kind spirit and a loving heart. She was scared that the politics of the royal family would ruin him.
“What do you think about the offer, son?” His father asked, sitting down next to his mother and taking Wonwoo’s other hand, so they were connected in a tight circle.
Wonwoo sighed. He knew that his parents would miss him, but he really wanted to study and live in the castle.More than anything, he wanted to get to know the kind and lively spirit that was the princess. He looked up towards his mother and squeezed her hand.
“I want to go,” he stated, his voice quiet but a little firm.
His mother inhaled sharply, a single tear sliding down her cheek, but nodded in understanding. “Oh, my dear boy,” she murmured, squeezing his hand tightly. “We know you do. It’s a chance for you to see the world beyond our bakery door.”
His father squeezed his hand as well, his eyes fixed on the future. “It is an immense opportunity, Son. A gift the Jeon family could never buy,” he looked at his wife. “If we agree, we must set rules. He is only eight. We will insist on weekly visits, and we will insist they treat him fairly.”
“I won’t be alone,” Wonwoo said, looking up at them both, his eyes earnest. “The princess said she would see me everyday. She’ll look out for me.”
His parents looked at each other, the name of the Princess, cutting through their fear and striking at the core of the offer. They knew that the unlikely spark between the princess and their son was the very thing that made this impossible dream possible.
His mother sighed once more, before wiping the tears rolling down her eyes, before looking at her husband who nodded.
“Alright son,” his father said, his voice thick with pride and gravity. “You can be a Page in the castle.”
Wonwoo knew the castle was big from the distant view he had everyday, but he didn’t think it would be this big on the inside. The halls went up so high they almost touched the sky. The vast space gleamed with gold and marble, and every chamber felt like walking into a cold, beautiful treasure chest.
It felt like the opposite of the warm, cozy bakery he grew up in.
He was led up into one of the servants quarters in the east hall. His room was at the top of the tower, which meant he had to climb a lot of stairs every morning. But when he looked out, the view across the kingdom was truly beautiful.
He was given the morning to unpack his things and change into his new uniform. The simple, slightly rough fabric felt stiff and heavy compared to his soft cotton clothes from the bakery. When the time came, another Page, older and silent, led Wonwoo through the echoing stone corridors, down into the lower grounds and toward the immense Royal Stables. The air changed instantly, replacing the cold marble scent with the rich, earthy smells of hay, leather, and horses.
The Stable Master, a large, weathered named Lord, Baek, stood in the central yard, directing a flurry of activity. He did not look up when Wonwoo approached.
“Lord Baek, the new Page, Jeon Wonwoo,” the older Page stated curtly.
Lord Beak finally looked down, his gaze sharp and assessing. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t scowl.
“You are small,” Lord Beak said simply, his voice a low rumble. “And you are new. That means you listen, you do not talk, and you work twice as hard as everyone else. The palace does not pay us to make friends, boy.” He pointed to a large pile of intricate leather bridles piled in the corner. “Your first task: those bridles need cleaning and polishing until they shine like the Princess’s jewels. Then you will sort that pile of curry combs. I want the bronze separate from the steel. Go.”
Wonwoo immediately lowered his head. He knew this was not a place for smiles or softness.
“Yes, sir,” he replied quietly, already moving toward the dirty pile of bridles. He spent the whole rest of the day, even missing supper to finish the work Lord Baek had given him. Only eating when it was almost all the rest of the servants had gone to bed.
He hadn’t even seen the princess his first day, like the thought he would.
The next day was different, he learnt quickly that during the week he would attend school and then help in the stables after school and work purely in the stables during the weekend, leaving almost no time for leisure.
He would attend classes quickly, change and then work until he went to bed. It was the same thing everyday. It wasn’t until almost a month into living in the castle did he see the Princess.
He was making his way to the stables with a couple of horses when he heard her voice. It was bright and clear, cutting through the usual drone of the courtyard like a silver bell. He recognized the sound immediately.
"There you are, Wonwoo! I've been looking everywhere!"
He froze mid-step, causing the horses behind him to shuffle restlessly. He looked up, and there she was, walking towards him, in a fancy gown and flowers all throughout her hair, a clear sign that she had been in the garden. Her face lit up with a usual lively smile at the sight of him.
He immediately dropped his gaze and tried to bow as best as he could while still holding the reins.
“Your highness,” he said, “I apologize. I am still on duty.”
Y/N simply walked right up to him, entirely ignoring the horses and his formal bow.
“Duty? You look like you haven’t slept in a week! Don’t worry, I told Lord Beak I needed help finding the best apples for my pony, Cloud. Come on, I’m rescuing you.” She reached out a hand to take one of his reins, ready to pull him along.
Wonwoo smiled, thankful that he didn’t have to do chores right away. He sighed, and handed her one of the reins. The tension in his shoulders seemed to lift immediately.
Y/N beamed, now walking side-by-side with him, leading the horses away from the crowded stable yard and toward a sunny, secluded path near the royal orchards.
“What were you supposed to be doing right now?” Wonwoo asked softly, unable to help the smile in his voice.
She leaned toward him, lowering her voice so no adults could hear her. “Etiquette lessons with Madame Balm. She always makes me walk lines and corrects my posture even though my posture is perfect!”
Wonwoo chuckled, the sound slightly rusty from a month of hard work and silence. The idea of Y/N forced into rigid formality was both ridiculous yet familiar.
“Walking straight lines sounds terribly difficult,” he murmured, shaking his head.
She tightened her grip on the reins. “It’s a nightmare. But anyway, I haven't seen you around at all! Why did it take you so long to come find me? Did Lord Baek put you in the deepest part of the stables?”
Wonwoo sighed, he also was disappointed that he hadn’t had free time to do simple things like explore the castle or spend time with the princess.
“I’ve been busy from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep,” he explained, pulling the horses to a gentle stop near a large apple tree. “There is school, and then the stables. Everyday Lord Beak doesn't let us stop,” he looked at her then the smile gone, “I thought I would see you sooner.”
Y/N’s bright smile softened into an expression of immediate sympathy. She dropped the reins letting the horses graze freely, and turned fully toward him
“Oh Wonwoo,” she said gently, reaching out a hand to touch his sleeve, “I missed you too. I told you I would see you everyday, and I promise I’ll come to the barn to see you after you're done with school.”
The simple assurance was like warm balm after a month of cold stone and hard labor.
“You will?” he asked, the hole in his voice undeniable.
“Y/N nodded firmly, “every weekday. We can talk while you polish tack or muck stalls. We have to be quick, but we’ll be together. You need a friend here, and so do I.” She gave his sleeve a final squeeze before handing him a basket and turning toward the orchard. “Now, let’s go find those apples. Cloud will be crossed if he misses his snack.”
The simple, quiet ritual established from there became the fixed point in their lives. The early years were defined by shared secrets and easy comfort. Wonwoo polished the tack while Y/N read him chapters from grand adventure novels she was supposed to be studying.
Everyone in the castle found their relationship quite sweet, quite wholesome, seeing it as a lovely display of the Princess’s kind heart and the Page’s steadfast loyalty.
As they started to grow out of their childish features and into their blossoming young teenage years, the comfortable ease began to break down, replaced by a strange, charged awareness. The first big shift between them was when Wonwoo, now transitioning from Page to Squire, had a sudden growth spurt. He was no longer the small baker boy. His shoulders had broadened, and his hands, once small enough to fit inside hers, were now rough and large from endless drills with practice of swords and dealing with hard leather. Their interactions were less about childish games and more about unspoken emotions and feelings of discovery.
There was less time for them to work with horses and run around the gardens, and Princess Y/N could keenly feel the change between them. Instead of watching him clean the stables and helping with the horses, she would now watch him from the palace balcony. Below, he was training, his form becoming sharper, and she watched him make friendships with the older boys and men among him, who were quickly becoming his peers. The stables were no longer their private sanctuary; they were a training ground preparing him for a world she couldn't fully reach.
He had just finished a brutal evening training session and was scarfing down his supper in a quiet corner of the Squire's mess hall when she appeared.
“Are you having fun at least?” She asked Wonwoo, watching him chew quickly.
Wonwoo paused, holding a piece of bread mid-air. His face was smudged with dirt and sweat. He was exhausted, but he shook his head slightly.
“Fun isn’t what it’s for Your HIghness,” he replied, swallowing hard. “It is an honor. I need to be ready to protect your brother, and you, when the time comes.”
Y/N sighed, leaning her elbow on the table. She looked at his tired eyes and the determination etched onto his face. The playful boy she had rescued was now a soldier in training.
“I know it’s necessary, but you used to laugh more,” she murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget the simple things Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo quickly looked away from her, his gaze locking onto the rough wooden table. He was painfully aware of how close she was, how sweet the scent of her perfume was compared to the stink of sweat and steel clinging to him.
“I don’t forget anything your highness,” he said, his voice a little bit more playful. Trying to reassure her that the boy she once knew was still in there. “But the simple things don’t keep the castle safe. Duty comes first. Always.”
He deliberately avoided looking at her again, using his rigorous schedule as a shield to hide the truth. Every moment spent training, every drop of sweat, was purely for her sake. The duty was the only thing he was allowed to love.
Y/N huffed and stood up from the table, clearly frustrated at the sudden, cold distance he created. She didn’t want to cause an argument with her best friend. She leaned down quickly and pressed a sharp, quick kiss to his grimy cheek before turning and leaving the dining hall.
Wonwoo froze entirely, his fork clattering against the plate. The immediate shock was overwhelming. He looked up, but she was already gone, leaving him alone, heart hammering against his ribs, his duty almost completely forgotten in the face of her reckless affection.
Wonwoo’s sixteenth birthday was quiet, marked by the heavy anticipation of his final years as a Squire. By royal decree, he received a small ceremony in the yard where Prince Jeonghan presented him with a beautifully weighted, custom-fitted-sword, his first piece of truly good steel, a visible sign of his imminent knighthood. While the court cheered his merit, Y/N found him later that night in the armory, the heavy scent of metal and oil surrounding them.
She gave him no gift, but instead, she reached out and traced the sharp line of th new sword resting on his hip. Her touch, far more intimate than any metal, made him hold his breath. He knew his sixteenth year meant the line between them was hardening, he was closer than ever to become her official protector, a position that demanded he be nothing more, and everything less, than the boy she loved.
“Have you given it a name?” She asked, as Wonwooran his thumb lightly along the spine of the blade, careful to avoid the edge.
“No, Your Highness,” he replied. “It’s not mine yet. Not truly. Not until I’m sworn in.”
“But it will be yours,” Y/N insisted, his eyes fixed on the reflective metal. “And it will be the thing that keeps us safe. It deserves a name.”
He looked from the sword to her, and the protective, desperate love he felt for her was momentarily reflected in the cold steel.
“Celestra's Mark.” He said, after a few moments of thinking.
Y/N smiled, a quiet, knowing smile. “It suits you, Wonoo. It suits the shield you are becoming.” She reached out and ran a fingertip over the steel, a daring, silent acknowledgement of the sacrifice he was making for her home.
He quickly re-sheather the blade, the sound a sharp, final click in the quiet armory, marking the end of their sixteenth birthday moment and signaling the return to the strict boundaries they both observed.
He quickly re-sheathed the blade, the sound a sharp, final click in the quiet armory, marking the end of their sixteenth birthday moment and signaling the return to the strict boundaries they both observed.
“How’s Wonwoo’s training going?” Prince Jeonghan asked.
Y/N jumped, a small cry catching in her throat, at the sudden presence of her older brother. Her entire body recoiled, and her hand flew instantly to cover the sudden, frantic pounding of her heart beneath her gown. She took a sharp, necessary breath to regain control.
“Brother! You startled me,” she managed, turning to face him from her balcony she was watching Wonwoo from. “I didn’t hear you come in. Why are you sneaking around?”
Jeonghan raised a skeptical eyebrow at her obvious shock.
“I wasn’t sneaking, Y/N. You were simply daydreaming. You shouldn’t look so guilty when asked about my top Squire,” he jested, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks. He walked to the railing and followed her gaze down to the training yard. “Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental about the baker’s boy?”
Y/N whipped her head around to scowl at her brother before smacking him lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t call him that, Jeonghan. You know he’s going to be Knight Wonwoo soon,” she retorted, though her cheeks remained pink. She adjusted the fabric of her sleeve, gathering her composure. “His training is excellent, he is ready for his oath next month, isn’t he? Even Lord Baek admitted he’s the sharpest they’ve had.”
Jeonghan smiled, pleased by the quick defense and the confirmation of Wonwoo’s skill.
“He’s the sharpest, which is why I’m making sure he protects what matters most. Once he’s knighted, he won’t be mine. I”ve assigned him to you, Y/N. KNight Wonwoo will be your personal guard. Which, speaking of the future, is why I came looking for you.” He turned, the playful smile fading, signaling the shift to official business.
He leaned against the cold stone railing, his eyes fixed on the distant peaks of the kingdom.
“The political envoys arrived late this morning from the Northern March.” Jeonghan took a long, heavy breath. “The alliance is confirmed, Y/N. You are formally engaged to Prince Mingyu. The betrothal will be announced next month, and the wedding will take place when you both come of age.”
The simple announcement, delivered without fanfare, landed in the quiet afternoon like a shattering pane of glass. Below them, Wonwoo was practicing a flawless disarming maneuver, the first knight assigned to guard his Princess and her new fiancé, completely unaware that the duty he was training for was about to destroy the only thing he truly cared for.
“No,” she whispered, the denial a desperate, raw sound. “No, you can’t - I won’t”
Her composure was utterly fractured. She let out a frustrated, wounded cry, a loud, immature sound completely inappropriate for a Princess, and shoved past Jeonghan, he silks catching on the railing. She didn’t bother with the proper entrance, instead hiking up her skirts and bolting from the balcony entrance, her footsteps echoing loudly down the stone corridor in a frantic dash to escape.
Down below, in the middle of a perfect disarming drill, Wonwoo stopped. The jarring sound of the Princess's unmistakable cry and the panicked rush of her footsteps had cut through the focused chaos of the training yard. He looked up instantly, following the sound to the East Hall balcony. He didn't see the reason, but he clearly saw Prince Jeonghan standing alone at the rail, looking grieved and defeated, and he saw a flash of the Princess's distinctive blue skirt disappearing rapidly into the castle interior. Something was terribly wrong.
Y/N ran without caring who saw her or how undignified she looked. Tears steamed down her face, blurring the marble halls as she raced toward the seclusion of her private chambers. The words formally engaged to Prince Mingyu run in her ears and slammed into her mind, suffocating her. This wasn’t a choice, it was a decree. The cold duty she had always feared had finally snatched her future. She only wanted the comfort of her home, the one she had found in the stables with Wonwoo, but now that home felt impossible far away.
Hours later, long after the curfew bells had sounded and the last of the squires were asleep, Wonwoo crept out of his quarters. He ignored the aching fatigue from his training and followed a familiar, shadowed route through the silent castle grounds. His destination was the stables, the only place he could think she might retreat when the palace felt too large and cold.
He found her exactly where he expected: huddled on a bale of hay in front of her horse Cloud’s stall, the smell of the clean straw a stark contrast of the despair across her face. She was not crying, but her shoulders we slumped and her face was drawnb, illuminated only by the faint silver light spilling in from the high stable windows.
Wonwoo didn’t speak a formal greeting. He simply sat down beside her, the movement quiet and deliberate. The cold hilt of Celestra’s Mark pressed against his hip, a silent reminder of the position that now separated him from her pain.
“Your Highness,” he said softly, his voice barely a murmur, and turned his head to look at her. “What happened this afternoon? What made you run?”
Y/N didn’t lift her head. She picked nervously at a loose piece of straw.
“It doesn’t matter, Wonwoo. It’s palace business,” she mumbled, attempting to push him away from the formal tern.
“It matters to me,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “I saw you run. And I know the difference between palace business and when my Princess is truly hurting.” He waited, allowing the quiet space to fill with the steady breathing of the horses and placed his hand on top of hers a gesture that shattered the distance between them.
Y/N finally lifted her head, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. She didn’t pull her hand away.
“They did it, Wonwoo,” she whispered, her voice cracking, the grip on his hand tightening. “The alliance is confirmed. I am formally betrothed to Prince Mingyu.They said the wedding will be when we come of age. They just sentenced me to years of waiting for a life I don’t want.”
The words Prince Mingyu hit Wonwoo with the force of a solid steel blow. His meticulously constructed inner world, the one built on the fragile hope that his silent dedication would somehow earn him a future near her, shattered instantly.
His breath stopped in his chest. His training, honed over a decade, forced him to remain physically still, but internally, panic seized him. Betrothed. He, her assigned personal guard, had just been sentenced to stand beside her, day in and day out, while she belonged to another man. Celestra's Mark, the sword of his honor, felt suddenly heavy and cold, a permanent weight of irony pressing against his side. The irony was a cruel joke: he had worked tirelessly to earn the right to protect her, only to find that his first and most sacred duty was to escort her to the man she was forced to marry. His grip on her hand tightened involuntarily, not in comfort, but in a momentary, silent plea.
His breath stopped in his chest, but his training forced him to remain physically still. His grip on her hand tightened involuntarily, a momentary, silent plea before he forced his features into the neutral mask of the Squire. He released her hand slowly, pulling back only inches, but the distance felt like miles.
“This is why I must be knighted next month, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low and utterly devoid of emotion, though his heart was hammering a furious rhythm against his ribs. He deliberately focuses on the duty, the only thing he was allowed to acknowledge. “It is necessary for the stability of the crown. It is necessary for the safety of Hesperos.”
He lifted his hand, not to reach for her, but to gently touch the hilt of his sword.
“But I swear to you this,” he continued, his eyes finally meeting hers, intense and burning with a controlled fire. “Until the day they bind you to him, and for every moment after, you will never be alone. I am your shield. I will guard your happiness even if it means sacrificing mine.”
The sheer weight of the unofficial oath hung heavy in the stable air. Y/N watched his face, searching for any flicker of the boy who used to share her forbidden sweets, but saw only the frigid determination of the future knight.
“Wonwoo..” she began, her voice ran, reaching out to him again, perhaps intending to ask the question of their shared past that they both had always avoided.
But Wonwoo didn’t let her finish. He knew that one more word, one more touch, would shatter his discipline he had spent years on, that he needed to survive the years ahead. He quickly stood up, his movements stiff and practiced.
“I must go, Your Highness,” he said, the formality of the title now sounding like a deliberate, painful barrier. “I have an early morning training session, and I cannot be found here.”
He gave her a quick, deep, formal bow. The bow of a future guard, not a friend, and without another word, he turned and melted back into the shadows. He did not look back, even as his heart screamed in protest. He left her sitting alone on the hay bale, holding the cold, empty space where his hand had been, acutely aware that the silence he left behind was the sound of their fate sealing shut.
Two years passed in an agonizing, slow motion defined by duty and proximity. Wonwoo, now eighteen, was no longer a youth. He was a disciplined warrior, lean and stoic, prepared for the oath that would officially bind him to the crown.
Bind him to her.
For the past two years, his life had been a singular exercise in control. The memory of Y/N’s tearful face and the unspoken desperation of their final meeting in the stables fueled his training.
He had mastered the Knight’s Oath and the use of Celestra’s Mark, going over every rule of honor and servitude until his emotions were buried beneath the hard, cold surface of military perfection. He had to be perfect because he was now bound to the Princess in a daily, professional capacity, forced to witness the life he couldn’t have.
Meanwhile, Prince Mingyu had become a fixture at the court. He was everything a future King Consort should be: handsome, genuinely kind, and popular within the court and the people. Crucially he was good with Y/N.
Y/N and Mingyu’s betrothal was treated as a gentle, long-term courtship. They spent time together formally. Attending state dinners, riding, and sharing lessons. Mingyu was attentive and funny, clearly enjoying her company.
Y/N was unfailing courteous to Mingyu, fulfilling her duty, but her heart had not shifted. She still sought out the quiet comfort of Wonwoo’s presence whenever their duties overlapped, replying to his silent understanding, but it killed Wonwoo.
He was always there. Standing two steps behind her as she laughed at Mingyu’s jokes, watching her hand brush Mingyu’s arm, and witnessing the natural ease of a relationship that was publicly accepted. He had to suppress every jealous instinct and every desperate desire, knowing that his primary duty was to ensure the safety and happiness of the man who would take his princess.
“What do you mean you don’t want me there at your knighting ceremony?” She had quietly pleaded, trying not to cause any attention between them in the halls of the servants quarters.
It was almost midnight and if they were seen together, punishment would be brutal. So being quiet was crucial.
“I mean that you have previous commitments to the prince at the time of my ceremony,” Wonwoo sighed, hating the tears slowly falling down her cheeks. “I will ask sir Baek to attend with you in my absence.”
“But I don’t want Sir Baek.”
“I cannot miss my own knighting ceremony,” Wonwoo scoffed.
“Then I will miss the tea ceremony,” Y/N pushed back, trying to step closer to the almost knight. Wonwoo shook his head and held out an arm to push her back slightly.
“We both know you cannot. Your parents would be furious.”
“They should be. They knew your ceremony was tomorrow, why did they have to schedule it on the same day?”
Wonwoo sighed, and allowed himself to have one selfish act of affection towards you. He raised his hand and gently cupped her cheek, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But you cannot miss the tea ceremony.”
Y/N wheeped, but didn’t try to argue more. Instead she leaned into his touch a little bit, allowing him to cup her other cheek. “Promise me that you’ll re-inact the entire thing once I get back?”
Wonwoo chuckled at the request. Only she would ask him such things, but reluctantly agreed by shaking his head. “I’ll skip the nonsense and just show you the badge.”
Y/N gasped and pulled away from him, watching him laugh some more. “You will do no such thing Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo just smiled and watched as she wiped away a few of her own tears before trying her best to put on a smile for him.
The smile that could make twelve hours of training worth it.
The smile that he would kill for.
The smile that saved him from a life of bread and baking.
The smile he loved.
He still thought about how weird it was being in front of the whole royal family and not having her present.
It was ironic. The person he was swearing to protect wasn’t even here.
Prince Jeonghan was the one knighting him, he was the one he was giving his oath to when it should have been the princess.
His princess.
His parents were at the ceremony. It had been almost a month since he had last seen them, and the prince was kind enough to allow them to spend the rest of the day together after the ceremony.
His mother was crying the whole entire ceremony and his father had been standing beside her with a proud look on his face.
The day of the knighting ceremony arrived. The cathedral was packed, the air thick with incense and the sound of solemn music. Wonwoo knelt before Prince Jeonghan, the active royal authority for the ceremony, wearing the heavy formal armor, the weight of the steel a physical manifestation of his sacrifice.
He still thought about how strange it was being here in front of the whole royal court without the Princess present in the royal box.
It was bitterly ironic.
The entire reason he had pushed himself, the person he was truly swearing to protect, wasn’t here at this pivotal moment. Prince Jeonghan was the one administering the oath, the one he was dedicating himself to, when in his heart, that commitment belonged to his Princess.
He found solace only in the sight of his own family. His parents were seated near the front, guests of the royal family for the day. His mother was quietly crying the whole entire ceremony, utterly overwhelmed with pride, while his father stood beside her, his face set in a proud, unwavering expression. It had been almost a month since he had last seen them, and Prince Jeonghan had been kind enough to allow them to spend the rest of the day together after the ceremony.
Prince Jeonghan’s voice boomed as he placed the blunt side of a ceremonial sword, the King's own great sword, on Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Do you swear loyalty to the Crown of Celestra, upholding its laws, its alliances, and its sovereign lines, with Honor as your sole guide?”
Wonwoo met Prince Jeonghan’s eyes, his resolve absolute.
“I swear,” Wonwoo affirmed, his voice ringing clearly through the cathedral.
The final pronouncement was made, the assembly cheered, and the heavy ceremonial robes were swiftly replaced with his new, bespoke knight's uniform. Celestra's Mark, his sword of honor, felt balanced and light on his hip, despite the immense weight of the oath he had just taken.
As the cathedral began to empty, Prince Jeonghan gave him a respectful nod, releasing him. Wonwoo moved immediately toward the section where his family waited.
His mother, dressed in her best Sunday clothes, rushed forward. She didn't bow or curtsy; she simply enveloped him in a fierce, tearful hug, pressing her cheek against the cold steel of his shoulder plate.
“Oh, my beautiful, clever boy,” she wept quietly into his uniform. “You did it. You are a Knight.”
Wonwoo hugged her back fiercely, inhaling the comforting scent of baked dough and lavender that always clung to her. For a moment, he wasn't Knight Wonwoo, sworn protector of the Princess; he was just her son.
His father approached, a man of quiet strength whose own rough hands had shaped hundreds of loaves of bread. He didn't embrace Wonwoo, but instead placed a large, calloused hand on his newly armored shoulder, right where the King's sword had touched him.
“Honor,” his father said, his voice thick with pride. “That is the only thing we ever asked you to carry, son. Carry it well.”
Wonwoo nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
“I will, Father,” he promised, his voice regaining the steady confidence of his rank. “Always.”
He pulled back, smiling at them both, knowing that their pride was the one shield he was truly glad to carry.
Wonwoo pulled back, smiling at them both, knowing that their pride was the one shield he was truly glad to carry.
They settled at a small, reserved table in a quiet corner of the outer hall, where the noise of the main celebration couldn’t reach them. His mother fussed over his untouched plate of food, while his father sipped water, still watching him with that look of intense pride.
“And the Princess, Wonwoo?” his mother asked softly, resting a hand on his forearm. “Is she well? We heard she has been... very busy with state duties this past year. You two still spend time together, yes?”
The question was innocent, delivered with the easy familiarity of someone asking after a well-loved niece. Wonwoo felt a sharp, internal twist.
“The Princess is excellent, Mother,” he replied, his tone immediately defaulting to the cool, formal respect required of his rank. “As her personal guard, my duty is now to ensure her safety at all times. I am constantly near her, though our interactions are strictly professional.”
His father frowned slightly at the formality. “Professional? What happened to the young lady who used to quiz you on your lessons? I trust the steel hasn't made you forget your manners, son.”
“No, Father,” Wonwoo murmured, avoiding their eyes and focusing on slicing his food with precise, stiff movements. “Her Highness is betrothed to Prince Mingyu now, and my position requires absolute discretion and honor. She is the future of Celestra. I am simply her shield.”
Both of his parents gave each other a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between them not to push any further to upset him. They sensed the rigid, painful distance he had put up around himself. They understood duty, but they didn’t understand the price he was paying for it.
Prince Mingyu was always kind towards Y/N. He never treated her like a possession or a political prize, but rather as a friend he genuinely respected. In the long two years since their formal betrothal, he had come to understand the sad truth of their union.
He knew that she wasn’t in love with him.
This awareness didn’t make him cruel or resentful. Instead, it lent his patience and courtesy a layer of profound maturity. He valued her well-being above their alliance, a face that only deepened the quiet agony for both Y/N and the knight sworn to protect them.
Which is precisely how Mingyu knew that something was wrong with Y/N quickly into the tea ceremony.
She was performing her required courtesies flawlessly, speaking the correct diplomatic language, offering measured smiles, and accepting the exquisite gifts from the Northern March delegation with grace. Yet, Mingyu noticed the minute details.
The way her gaze drifting past the delegates to fix on the reflection of the silver tray before quickly snapping back. She was present, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
He waited until there was a lull in the ceremony before saying anything.
“Are you alright?” He asked, making sure that the other occupants of the ceremony were busy and not interacting with them.
“Pardon?” Y/N asked, her gaze unfocused for a beat too long.
Mingyu leaned closer, his expression earnest.
“Your hands are shaking,” he whispered, eyes quickly darting down to her shaking hands. “If you need air, I can excuse us. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Y/N felt a fresh wave of despair. It wasn’t the political pressure, it was the unbearable weight of not being there for her best friend. She looked at Mingyu’s kind, concerned face, the man who was trying so hard, and the guilt that she had forced Wonwoo into this impossible, painful position crushed her. She had to deny her reality to the one man who sincerely wished her well.
“It’s nothing, Prince Mingyu,” she replied, forcing a brief, brittle smile. “Just the tediousness of the negotiations. I assure you, I am perfectly well.”
Mingyu sighed, a soft and heavy sound that seemed to carry the wright of both their roles, and nodded his head slowly. In that single gesture, he acknowledge the unspoken truth of her heart without judgement or resentment. He wasn’t just a prince at that moment, he was a man who saw the bars or the cafe they were both trapped in.
With a determined look in his eyes, he began trying to plan an escape for them both, his mind already working though ways to slip away from the prying eyes of the delegates and the stifling atmosphere of the embassy. He knew they couldn’t run forever, but for her, and for his own peace, he was willing to find a way to claim even just a few hours of freedom from the suffocating demands of the crown.
Mingyu moved with a calculated grace, guiding Y/N back toward the interior of the hallway rather than the main ballroom. He knew the embassy's layout well enough to know that the servants’ corridors and the garden exits were currently unguarded, as all security was focused on the front gates and the main reception hall. With a quick, conspiratorial wink, he draped his heavy traveling cloak over her shoulders, effectively hiding her shimmering dress and the royal crest of Celestra. As they reached the heavy wooden door, Mingyu paused, his hand on the iron latch. He looked back at Y/N, the moonlight catching the determined set of his jaw. He wasn't just giving her a few hours of peace; he was risking a minor diplomatic scandal to ensure she didn't break under the weight of her own crown.
“Once we step through this door, we aren’t royals,” he whispered, the cold air turning his breath into a white mist. “Just for tonight, Y/N. No princess, no fiancé, no duty. Just two people walking in the snow.”
Y/N felt a surge of genuine gratitude. For the first time in years, the crushing pressure in her chest eased. She reached out and took his hand, not out of duty, but out of a shared need for air. As the door creaked open, they stepped out into the night, leaving the world of politics and silent knights behind them, if only for a moment.
Once they were alone, Mingyu didn't push or accuse. He simply leaned against the cool stone railing, respecting the space between them.
“I know it wasn’t the tediousness of the negotiations,” he said softly, turning to face her. “You are far too composed for that. Please, Y/N. Tell me what is weighing so heavily on your heart.”
Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, watching the frost gleam on the sculpted bushes below. The air was crisp and clean, offering a small reprieve from the stifling political atmosphere.
“You are too kind, Mingyu,” she murmured, the sincerity in her voice making her throat tight. “That kindness is why this is so difficult.”
She didn’t dare speak Wonwoo’s name, but the heavy implication hung between them. Mingyu already understood.
“Is it still difficult because of the distance?” he asked, his voice low and sympathetic. “Because of what you had to leave behind in Celestra? I never asked you to forget your past, only to share the future with me.”
Y/N finally met his eyes, her own filled with guilt and sorrow.
“I am fighting every day to be the Princess Celestra needs,” she confessed, her voice barely a breath. “But I cannot help but feel like I am giving up some part of myself to do so. Prince Mingyu…. You deserve someone who doesn’t feel like they are breaking just to stand beside you.”
She saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain the true source of her fractured heart. Instead, she quickly recovered, forcing a brief, brittle smile.
Mingyu nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than protocol allowed. He was trying to understand, searching her expression for the piece of the puzzle she was clearly withholding. He wasn't a fool; he could hear the finality in her tone, the way she spoke of their union as if it were a sentence rather than a beginning.
"I understand duty," he said softly, his hand retreating from the railing but his presence remaining heavy beside her. "But I do not wish to be another burden you have to carry, Y/N. If standing beside me feels like breaking, then we are starting on a very fragile foundation."
The Northern March delegates laughed at a joke across the table, the sound jarringly loud against the quiet tension between the Prince and Princess. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the snow falling, terrified that if she looked up, he would see the truth, not just that she didn't want him, but that her heart had already been given to someone else.
Mingyu straightened his posture, shifting back into his role as the perfect diplomat as the delegates turned their attention back toward them. He didn't push her further, but the concern hadn't left his eyes.
"The Court Dance begins shortly," he murmured, his voice returning to a formal, neutral tone for the benefit of their audience. "Perhaps the movement will help settle your nerves. I would be honored if you would grant me the first set."
The following days were not filled with the frantic energy of the ceremony, leaving a hollow silence in the private royal gardens. Y/N walked the stone path alone, her fingers trailing over the dew-covered hedges. The heavy silks of the ceremony had been traded for a simpler gown, but the weight of her check remained unchanged. She stopped at the edge of the fountain, watching her own distorted image in the water.
The conversation with Mingyu still echoed in her mind. She had seen the way he looked at her, not with cold calculation of the Council, but with a genuine desire to be the partner she needed. It made the lie heel even more jagged. Every step toward the wedding felt like a step further away from herself, a slow erasure of the woman she used to be before the needs of the kingdom became a cage.
A soft rustle of gravel nearby signaled that her solitude was coming to an end. She turned, her shoulders instinctively tensing for another diplomatic confrontation, but the air in her lungs finally felt light again when she saw Wonwoo.
He was standing a respectful distance away, his expression calm and his posture as steady as the ancient stone walls of the palace. He didn't offer a platitude or a royal greeting; he simply stood there, a quiet anchor in the midst of her internal chaos. Seeing him, the one person who knew the woman behind the title, the suffocating weight of the crown seemed to lift just enough for her to breathe. The brittle, defensive mask she had been wearing since the night before finally softened, and for a fleeting moment, she didn't feel like a Princess fighting for Celestra. She just felt like herself.
“How did you find me?” She asked, looking back to the fountain, not wanting him to see the slight flush on her cheeks.
“You forget my lady, that it is my job to know where you are at all times of the day,” Wonwoo replied, his voice carrying a rare, light trace of amusement. There was a faint, teasing ghost of a smile on his lips that she usually only saw when the palace was fast asleep. It was a subtle, joking tone. One that reminded her he wasn’t just a shield in polished armor, but the person who knew her better than anyone else.
The small smile on his lips didn’t last long; as he stepped closer, his keen eyes swept over her, noting the tension in her shoulders that even the morning air couldn't melt away. The joking tone vanished, replaced by the quiet, intense focus he reserved only for her.
“The levity doesn’t suit the look in your eyes, my lady,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a more private register. He moved to stand near the edge of the fountain, his gaze following hers to the dancing water. “Something happened during the ceremony. Your composure was... different. What is bothering you?”
Y/N felt the familiar urge to deflect, to give him the same brittle smile she had given Mingyu. But with Wonwoo, the lie always felt heavier. He didn't just see the Princess; he saw the girl who was terrified of losing herself.
"Mingyu noticed," she admitted, her voice so low it was almost lost to the splashing water. "He saw my hands shaking. He offered me a way out, and it only made the guilt worse. He’s a good man, Wonwoo. That’s what’s bothering me. He is a good man, and I am standing there lying to him with every breath I take."
Wonwoo’s expression shifted, a shadow of pain crossing his features at the mention of Mingyu’s kindness. For a long moment, the only sound was the rhythmic splashing of the fountain. Then, defying every rule etched into his training since the day he was knighted, he took a step forward, closing the gap that protocol demanded he maintain.
He didn’t just stand behind her as a shadow. Instead, he reached out, his hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before his fingers brushed against hers. He gently took her hand, the one that had been trembling during the ceremony, and folded his palm over it. The leather of his glove was cool, but the pressure was firm and grounding.
“Then stop looking at him as the Prince of a rival house, and stop looking at yourself as a piece of a treaty,” he whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, raw honesty. He didn't pull his hand away, even though a single wandering eye from the palace windows could cost him his position. “You are not a lie, Y/N. You are a woman being asked to carry the weight of an entire world on your back. If you cannot be honest with him, at least be honest with me. You don't have to be the Princess of Celestra within these four walls.”
The touch was a silent rebellion, a brief erasure of the line between a knight and his sovereign. For that heartbeat, they weren't a political tragedy in the making; they were simply two people holding onto each other in the quiet of a fading dawn.
Y/N didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she turned her palm upward, lacing her fingers with his as if anchoring herself to the only real thing left in her life. The cool morning air bit at her skin, but where their hands met, there was a heat that made the rest of the world feel distant and blurred.
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a sign of the same fracture she felt in herself. “And what if being honest with you is the most dangerous thing of all?” she whispered. “Every time I look at you, I remember exactly who I am, and exactly what I have to give up to keep this kingdom whole.”
Wonwoo didn’t flinch. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a slow, rhythmic motion that felt like a silent vow. The distance between them had vanished, and in the stillness of the garden, she could see the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his jaw was set in a hard line of restrained emotion.
“Then let it be dangerous,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Let the world fall apart outside this garden. For once, just once, don’t worry about the Council or the Prince or the peace. Just stay here. Just breathe.”
For a long, suspended moment, the political machinery of Celestra ceased to exist. There were no impending weddings, no trade routes, and no heavy crowns. There was only the sound of their shared breath and the terrifying, beautiful realization that the person she was supposedly "giving up" was most alive when she was standing right here, in the shadow of the man who was never supposed to touch her hand.
The air between them seemed to vanish as the silence grew heavy, charged with years of unspoken words and shared glances. Y/N looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs, not with the cold anxiety of the palace halls, but with a desperate, frantic longing.
Wonwoo’s gaze dropped to her lips, his breath hitching. The logic of the knight, the duty to the crown, and the fear of the Council all seemed to dissolve in the pale morning light. He moved slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, to remember her station, to be the Princess again. But she didn't move
She leaned in, closing the final inch of the distance that had felt like a chasm for far too long. When his lips finally met hers, it wasn't the polished, formal grace of a royal courtship. It was a collision of relief and suppressed grief. It was the taste of a secret they had both been dying to tell, a soft and tentative touch that quickly deepened into something more certain. His free hand came up to rest against the side of her neck, his thumb grazing her jawline, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.
For that one moment, the wedding to Mingyu felt like a ghost story from a distant land. There was no Celestra, no Northern March, and no duty. There was only the warmth of him, the scent of the garden, and the terrifyingly beautiful reality of a love that could never be spoken of in the light of day.
Wonwoo let out a sharp, ragged breath against her skin, the instinct of a soldier suddenly warring with the hunger of a man. The reality of their situation seemed to crash back into him, and he began to pull away, his hands sliding from her waist to her shoulders to create distance. He was the protector, the one meant to keep her safe from the very scandal they were currently creating.
But Y/N wasn’t ready to let the world back in.
As he retreated, she stepped forward, her hands tangling in the heavy fabric of his tunic to pull him back. She chased his lips, refusing to let the warmth vanish, her movements desperate and unyielding. She didn't want the safety he offered; she wanted the fire that only he could provide.
A low, pained sound caught in Wonwoo’s throat as he felt her persistence. His resolve, built over years of rigid discipline, crumbled in the face of her touch. His hands moved from her shoulders to her face, his fingers threading through her hair as he stopped retreating and met her with an intensity that matched her own.
For a few breathless seconds, he stopped being her guard and simply became hers. He kissed her with a ferocity that spoke of every time he had been forced to stand three paces behind her, every time he had watched her smile at Mingyu, and every night he had spent patrolling her door knowing he could never enter.
It was a beautiful moment, fueled by the knowledge that every second they spent like this was a betrayal of the crown she wore, and the life they were both expected to lead.
Finally, it was Y/N who pulled back, though only by an inch. Her breath came in short, jagged hitches, the heat of the kiss still burning on her lips. She didn't let him go completely; her hands remained anchored to his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of his heart beneath the heavy fabric of his uniform.
Wonwoo stood perfectly still, his eyes dark and clouded with a mixture of adoration and agony. He didn't try to step back again, nor did he reach for her. He simply waited, his head bowed slightly, yielding entirely to her. In this quiet corner of the garden, the power dynamic of the court had inverted. He wasn't the guard commanding her safety, and he wasn't the soldier following a vow; he was a man placing his entire existence in her hands, waiting for her to decide what happened next.
He was giving her the control, the one thing she never had in the council rooms or at the tea ceremonies. If she told him to leave, he would disappear into the shadows. If she told him to stay, he would burn the world down to keep her.
Y/N looked up at him, her fingers curling into the embroidery of his tunic. For the first time, the silence between them didn't feel like a burden. It felt like a choice. She could see the vulnerability in the set of his shoulders, the way he was breathing only when she did, completely attuned to her next move.
"You're not going to stop me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the moment.
"I am yours to command, my lady," Wonwoo murmured, his voice rough and low. "In this, and in everything else. If this is what you want... I have no will to fight you."
Y/N blushed, but before she could say anything the heavy, metallic thud of the Great Terrace doors echoing across the stone gallery acted like a bucket of ice water. The spell shattered instantly.
Wonwoo was the first to react, his soldier’s instincts overriding his heartbeat. He stepped back with a sharp, fluid movement, putting the required three paces of distance between them before Y/N had even fully processed the sound. By the time the heavy doors creaked open and the rhythmic click of heels on marble grew louder, he had already straightened his tunic and clasped his hands behind his back, his expression smoothing into a mask of professional indifference.
Y/N turned toward the fountain, her heart still racing so violently she was sure the approaching attendants would hear it. She frantically smoothed her skirts and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her lips still tingling from the pressure of his.
“Princess? Your father is requesting your presence in the solar for the finalization of the wedding guest list.”
The voice of a young page reached them, followed shortly by the boy himself as he rounded the hedge. He stopped and bowed low, oblivious to the fact that he had walked into the aftermath of a quiet revolution.
“I am coming,” Y/N managed to say, her voice steadier than she expected, though she didn't dare look back at Wonwoo yet.
As she began to walk toward the terrace, she passed Wonwoo. For a split second, their eyes met, a flash of raw, shared memory that burned through their masks. He bowed his head as she passed, the perfect picture of a loyal, stoic guard, but the slight tension in his jaw told her everything she needed to know.
The three years leading up to Y/N’s wedding changed everything, even if they never spoke about it. That morning in the garden was still there, hanging between them like a secret they both remembered but never dared to bring up. To talk about the kiss would mean admitting they had broken the rules, so they just lived with the memory of it, letting it sit in the silence of every room they shared.
In those three years, Wonwoo grew into a man who didn't need words to understand her. He became a master of noticing the small things that everyone else missed. He knew that when she was stressed about the wedding, she would twist the ring on her finger until her skin was red, and he’d quietly step into her line of sight to catch her eye and keep her grounded. He noticed that she hated the heavy, suffocating scent of the lilies the Queen favored, so he would make sure the windows in her sitting room were cracked open just enough to let in the fresh air before she arrived.
For Y/N, Wonwoo was the only person who actually saw her. She noticed how he always seemed to know when she had a headache, standing in a way that blocked the harsh glare of the sun from her desk. She watched him change, too, his shoulders got broader, his face more serious, and his protective streak grew even stronger. He didn't have to say anything for her to know he was looking out for her. Every time he handed her a cloak before she felt a chill, or stepped closer when a stranger got too near, it was his way of staying close to her without breaking the silence they had maintained since they were fifteen.
Despite the fact that her wedding to Mingyu was now only weeks away, they continued their quiet routine. They were experts at pretending they were just a Princess and her guard, but the way Wonwoo noticed every small change in her mood said otherwise. He was still the person who knew her best, even if they had to act like that kiss in the garden had never happened.
The training grounds were thick with the scent of kicked-up dust and oiled leather as Wonwoo and Mingyu circled each other. Now at twenty one, both men had grown into their frames; Mingyu with the broad-shouldered, effortless grace of a future king, and Wonwoo with the lean, lethal efficiency of a high-tier guard. The clash of their practice swords echoed against the stone walls, a rhythmic, violent dance that usually ended in a draw.
"You're distracted," Wonwoo remarked, his voice steady even as he parried a heavy blow from Mingyu’s blade. He didn't wait for a response before stepping into Mingyu’s space, forcing him to adjust. "Your footwork is sloppy on the left. You’re overextending because you’re tired."
Mingyu laughed, a short, breathless sound as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Maybe. The wedding preparations are exhausting. My father has me reviewing trade routes until dawn." He lunged again, but Wonwoo deflected the strike with a flick of his wrist. "But how would you know? I thought I was hiding the fatigue well enough."
"You are," Wonwoo said, his eyes focused and sharp. "But you’re moving the same way the Princess does when she’s had a long night of council meetings. You both get a slight tension in your shoulder, the right one. It makes your strikes heavy but slow."
Mingyu stopped mid-swing, his sword dropping an inch. He tilted his head, looking at Wonwoo with a sudden, piercing curiosity. The silence on the field stretched out, suddenly heavy.
"The right shoulder?" Mingyu repeated, his tone thoughtful. "I've known her since we were children, and I never noticed that. I didn't even know she had a tell when she was tired. She usually just hides behind that perfect, icy smile."
Wonwoo realized his mistake instantly. The "little things" he had spent three years cataloging were supposed to be his private map of her, not something he shared with her fiancé. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his expression smoothing back into a mask of professional neutrality.
"It is my job to notice," Wonwoo said, though the words felt hollow in his own ears. "A guard who doesn't recognize when his charge is fatigued is a guard who misses a threat. She hides it well from the court, but she can't hide it from the person standing three paces behind her for twelve hours a day."
Mingyu didn't go back to the sparring stance. He sheathed his practice blade and stepped closer, his gaze searching Wonwoo’s face. "You notice a lot, Wonwoo. You knew her favorite tea yesterday before she even asked for it. You moved her chair away from the draft in the solar without her saying a word. You seem to know her better than I do, and I’m the one she’s supposed to marry."
Mingyu didn't reach for his sword again. Instead, he leaned against a wooden training post, watching Wonwoo with a look that was more analytical than angry. There was no heat in his eyes, but there was a new, sharp focus, the kind a hunter uses when he realizes he’s been looking at a map upside down.
"It’s more than just the shoulder, isn't it?" Mingyu asked, his voice dropping to a conversational level that felt far too intimate for the middle of a training field. "Yesterday, at the banquet, she started to reach for the wine, but you swapped her glass for water before her fingers even touched the stem. You knew she had a headache before she’d even admitted it to herself."
Wonwoo felt a cold pull of dread in his stomach, but he kept his posture rigid. "The Princess is prone to migraines when the hall is too crowded, Prince Mingyu. I was simply anticipating a need to keep her present for the toast."
"And the way you stand?" Mingyu continued, ignoring the excuse. He stepped toward Wonwoo, circling him slowly, much like they had been doing during the spar. "You don't just stand behind her. You stand for her. You adjust your position based on the sun to keep her in the shade. You move when she breathes. It’s almost like you’re wired to her."
Mingyu stopped in front of him, looking Wonwoo straight in the eye. There was no malice in his expression, Mingyu wasn't a cruel man, but there was a dawning realization that he was stepping into a space that was already occupied by someone else.
"I’ve spent three years trying to learn her favorite colors and her favorite poets," Mingyu said with a faint, almost sad smile. "And here you are, knowing the rhythm of her breath. It makes me wonder, Wonwoo... is that level of devotion something they teach in the Guard, or is it something you taught yourself?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Wonwoo knew that any answer he gave now would be a confession. He could see Mingyu waiting, not for a lie about protocol, but for the truth about why a common guard looked at the future Queen as if she were the only fixed point in a turning world.
Wonwoo didn’t blink. He kept his gaze level, matching Mingyu’s stare with a calm that he didn't actually feel. He knew he was standing on a thin ledge. One wrong word could end his career or, worse, put Y/N in a position she couldn't explain.
"Every person has a rhythm, My Lord," Wonwoo said. His voice was low and steady, lacking any of the nervous energy that might give him away. "When you spend every waking hour ensuring someone stays alive, you stop seeing them as a person and start seeing them as a series of patterns. I know when she is tired because a tired Princess is a vulnerable one. I know when she has a headache because a distracted Princess doesn't see a threat coming."
Mingyu hummed, a small sound of acknowledgement, but he didn't look convinced. He picked up a cloth to wipe the sweat from his neck, his eyes still fixed on Wonwoo.
"Patterns," Mingyu repeated. He sounded like he was testing the word out to see if it rang true. "That’s a very clinical way to describe it. But I’ve watched you when she isn't looking. You don't look like a man watching for assassins. You look like a man who is afraid the world is going to break her."
Wonwoo tightened his jaw. He could feel the heat of the afternoon sun on his neck, but he felt cold. Mingyu wasn't being aggressive, which made it harder to deflect. He was being observant, and that was far more dangerous.
"She is the future of this kingdom," Wonwoo replied. He chose his words with extreme care. "It would be a failure on my part if she were to break under the weight of it. If I know her better than most, it is only because I am the only one allowed to see her when the mask slips. That is the burden of the guard, not a choice of the man."
Mingyu stayed quiet for a moment, tossing the cloth aside. He looked out toward the palace balcony where Y/N often sat.
"I hope you're right, Wonwoo," Mingyu said. He didn't sound angry. He sounded almost worried. "Because if I am going to be her husband, I would like to think I could eventually understand her the way you do. But standing here, I feel like a stranger trying to read a book in a language I haven't mastered yet."
He turned back to Wonwoo, his eyes searching. "It makes me uneasy. I do not want to lose her before our life together even begins simply because I am too blind to see what she needs. You have had three years to learn every breath she takes, and I am starting to realize that if I do not catch up, I will never truly have her."
Wonwoo felt a sharp pang of guilt mixed with a dark, possessive spark he tried to shove down. He realized that Mingyu wasn't just suspicious; he was afraid. He was afraid that no matter how many titles he held or how many provinces he brought to the marriage, he would always be the second person in the room when it came to Y/N’s heart.
"You have time, My Lord," Wonwoo said, though the words felt like a lie on his tongue.
"Do I?" Mingyu asked with a small, hollow laugh. "The wedding is in a month, Wonwoo. You have a three-year head start. I just hope that by the time I learn her patterns, she hasn't already decided that you are the only one who truly knows her."
Mingyu offered a final, lingering look at the palace before turning away without another word. The sound of his boots retreating across the gravel felt like a countdown, each step emphasizing the month remaining before the wedding. Wonwoo remained exactly where he was, his hand still gripped tightly around the hilt of his practice sword. The silence of the training grounds rushed back in, but it offered no comfort. He realized then that Mingyu’s lack of anger was actually more dangerous than a confrontation. A jealous man could be handled with protocol, but a man who recognized the truth was a man who might eventually demand it.
Wonwoo looked down at his calloused hands, the same hands that had caught Y/N’s tears and adjusted her cloaks for years, and felt the crushing weight of his position. He was the keeper of her secrets, but as Mingyu had pointed out, he was also the one standing in the way of her future. He stood alone in the settling dust, realizing that his devotion was no longer just a shield for the Princess, but a growing threat to the very peace he was sworn to protect. The map of her heart that he had spent three years drawing was no longer his alone to keep. Mingyu was looking for it now, and Wonwoo knew he couldn't hide the trail forever.
Later that evening, the palace had fallen into the hushed, rhythmic stillness of the night watch. Wonwoo stood outside Y/N's chambers, his back to the door, but his mind was still on the training grounds. He waited until the final patrol of the hour passed before he risked a soft, rhythmic knock on the wood behind him. It was a signal they had used a handful of times over the years, one that bypassed the formal "My Lady" and spoke directly to the girl he had once kissed in the garden.
The door opened just a crack, and the warm glow of candlelight spilled into the dark hallway. Y/N looked up at him, her hair down and her face tired, her eyes immediately searching his for the reason behind the late-night interruption. She noticed the tension in his jaw before he even spoke.
"We need to be more careful," Wonwoo whispered, his voice barely audible. "Mingyu is not as blind as we thought. He is starting to see the patterns."
Y/N stood up from her desk by the window. The moonlight lit up her face just enough that Wonwoo could see the worried expression she was wearing. “See the patterns? What do you mean?” she asked, reaching out. Wonwoo sighed and took her hands, his rough palms a stark contrast to her soft skin.
“We were training together today and I was foolish enough to share an observation about you with him,” Wonwoo admitted. He looked down at their joined hands, realizing how easily this simple gesture would confirm every suspicion Mingyu held. “He noticed how I look after you. He mentioned the way I know your favorite tea or how I move to block the draft before you even feel the cold. He told me he feels like a stranger reading a book in a language he hasn't mastered yet.”
Wonwoo squeezed her fingers gently, his voice dropping an octave. “He isn't angry, Y/N. That is the problem. He is observant, and he is starting to realize that I have a three-year head start on knowing your heart. He told me he’s afraid he will never truly have you because I am already standing in the space he is supposed to occupy.”
Y/N felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. The three years of silence they had maintained suddenly felt fragile, like a glass bridge beginning to crack under the weight of Mingyu's gaze. They had spent so much time perfecting their masks in public that they had forgotten that a man who loved her would be looking for the person behind the mask.
“If he knows,” Y/N whispered, her eyes searching Wonwoo’s, “then he knows that my marriage to him will be a lie. What do we do, Wonwoo? If he tells my father, or if he decides he cannot marry a woman who is already spoken for in every way that matters, what happens to you?”
Wonwoo pulled her closer, his hands moving from hers to cup her face. The professional distance he had maintained for years finally snapped. He looked at her with a raw intensity that made her breath hitch, the mask of the stoic guard completely gone.
"He won't tell your father," Wonwoo said, his voice low and urgent. "Mingyu is a good man, but he is a man who wants to be loved. He will keep watching us, and eventually, the truth will destroy all three of us. I cannot stand by and watch you walk down that aisle knowing I am the reason your heart is breaking."
As he spoke, a single tear escaped and traced a slow, shimmering path down her cheek. Wonwoo didn't hesitate. He reached out and caught the drop with the pad of his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that felt more intimate than any word he had ever spoken. He let his hand linger there, his thumb resting against the corner of her mouth.
"I have spent the last three years watching you prepare for a life that is going to suffocate you," he continued, his voice softening. "I have made arrangements. I have a way out of the city, and I have friends across the border who do not care about alliances or crowns. I am not telling you that we have to go tonight, but I am telling you that the door is open."
He stepped back just an inch, giving her space to breathe, though he didn't let go of her hands. "You have two weeks before the final ceremonies begin. Use them. Look at the life they have built for you, and then look at me. If you decide that you cannot go through with it, tell me. We will leave everything behind, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it. But if you choose the crown, I will stay. I will be your guard, and I will never speak of this again."
The silence in the room was heavy with the weight of the choice he had just laid at her feet. For three years, they had been trapped by fate, but now, Wonwoo had given her the one thing she thought she had lost forever: a way out. He was offering her a life of anonymity and struggle, but one where he could finally love her in the light.
"Think about it, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes lingering on hers. "Don't answer me now. Just know that you don't have to be the person they are forcing you to be. You just have to decide if the woman you are is enough for the life I can give you."
The days that followed were a slow torture of divided loyalties. Every time Y/N looked at Mingyu, she saw a man who was genuinely trying to bridge the gap between them. He brought her books he thought she might like and made self-deprecating jokes during formal luncheons to try and coax a real smile from her. At twenty one, Mingyu was everything a princess should want, kind, handsome, and earnest. Yet, every time he reached for her hand or asked her a question about her childhood, Y/N felt a wave of guilt so cold it made her fingers go numb. She was watching a good man fall in love with a ghost, while the man who actually held her soul stood three paces behind her, a silent shadow in silver armor.
Her internal struggle became a physical weight as the wedding preparations reached a fever pitch. She spent her afternoons in fittings for a gown that felt more like a shroud, surrounded by seamstresses who praised her beauty while she felt like she was disappearing. During these moments, her eyes would instinctively find Wonwoo’s reflection in the tall pier glasses. He remained the perfect picture of professional indifference, but she could see the slight, familiar tension in his jaw that Mingyu had pointed out. She realized then that Wonwoo wasn't just waiting for her answer; he was suffering through every second of the countdown alongside her.
The contrast between her two lives grew sharper with every passing hour. With Mingyu, there was the promise of a stable, powerful future, a crown, a duty fulfilled, and the safety of her kingdom. With Wonwoo, there was only the unknown. She thought about the horses at the south postern and the gold he had saved, and she wondered if she was brave enough to be the woman he believed she was. She was terrified of the war her departure might spark, but she was even more terrified of the person she would become if she stayed. Every time Mingyu laughed or tried to "learn her patterns," it only served to remind her that those patterns had been woven by Wonwoo’s hands.
By the end of the week, the pressure had become nearly unbearable. Y/N found herself standing on her balcony late at night, looking out toward the dark horizon where the border lay. She thought about the life Wonwoo had offered her, a life without titles, where they could finally speak about that morning in the garden without fear. The choice was no longer just between two men; it was between the Princess of Hesperos and the woman who had once been kissed behind a hedge. As the moon climbed higher, she realized that the more Mingyu tried to know her, the more she realized that only one person truly did.
The dining hall felt far too large for just the two of them, the flickering candlelight casting long, distorted shadows against the tapestries. Mingyu had dismissed the servants earlier than usual, leaving them in a silence broken only by the clinking of silverware. Wonwoo stood at his post by the heavy oak doors, a silent statue whose presence seemed to vibrate in the air between Y/N and her fiancé.
“You’re doing it again,” Mingyu said quietly, setting his wine glass down with a definitive click.
Y/N looked up, her fork pausing halfway to her plate. “Doing what?”
“You’re here, but you’re not,” Mingyu replied, his voice devoid of anger but heavy with profound sadness. He leaned forward, the light catching the gold embroidery of his tunic. “I have spent the last hour trying to talk to you about the music for the ceremony, about the flowers, about our future home in the North. And every time I speak, you look right through me as if I am a ghost.”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. “I am just tired, Mingyu. The preparations are a lot for anyone.”
“It’s not just the fatigue,” Mingyu countered, his gaze shifting briefly to the shadow by the door before returning to her. “I’ve tried to learn your patterns, Y/N. I’ve tried to be the man who knows when you’re stressed or when you need a moment of quiet. But every time I think I’ve found a way in, I realize that the door is already locked from the inside. There is a wall around you that I can’t climb, and I think we both know who holds the key.”
The air in the room became suffocating. Y/N glanced toward Wonwoo, but he remained perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the far wall, though she knew he was hanging on every word.
“I want to love you,” Mingyu said, his voice cracking slightly. “I want to be the person you turn to. But how can I marry a woman who looks at her guard with more recognition than she looks at her husband? How can I build a kingdom with someone who treats my presence like a sentence she has to serve?” He reached across the table, his hand hovering near hers but not quite touching. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. If I walked out of this room right now and called off the wedding, would you be heartbroken, or would you finally be able to breathe?”
The silence following Mingyu’s question was so heavy that the crackle of the fireplace sounded like a thunderclap. Y/N looked down at his hovering hand, then slowly shifted her gaze to the doors where Wonwoo stood. For three years, she had carried the weight of the crown and the secret of the garden like a leaden cloak, but looking at Mingyu’s pained, honest face, she realized she couldn't let him shoulder the burden of a lie any longer.
“I would breathe,” she whispered, the words coming out as a shaky, jagged confession.
She looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I would breathe, Mingyu, and that is the most terrible thing I have ever had to admit. You are a good man. You have been nothing but kind, and patient, and everything a Queen could ever ask for. But my heart was never part of the alliance. It was never mine to give to you in the first place.”
Mingyu’s hand dropped to the table, his fingers curling into a fist. He didn't look surprised; he looked like a man watching a storm he had seen on the horizon finally make landfall. He followed her gaze to Wonwoo, who had finally broken his stance. Wonwoo’s hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, his expression a mix of terrifying protectiveness and profound grief.
“It’s him, then,” Mingyu said, his voice a hollow echo. “It’s been him since the beginning. Every time you tripped, every time you sighed, every time you looked for a reason to leave a room, it was always toward him.” He let out a sharp, bitter breath that wasn't quite a laugh. “All this time, I thought I was failing to win you over. I didn't realize I was trying to win a battle that had already been lost years ago.”
Y/N stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the marble floor. “It wasn't a choice I made to hurt you, or the kingdom. It just... it happened. And we spent three years pretending it didn't. We tried to be what everyone needed us to be, Mingyu. But I can't do it anymore. I can’t walk down that aisle and promise to spend my life with you when every piece of me belongs to the man standing three paces behind me.”
Mingyu sat in silence for a long time, his eyes fixed on the flickering candle flames. The betrayal clearly hurt, but his anger seemed to be eclipsed by a weary sense of clarity. He looked at Y/N, then shifted his gaze to Wonwoo, really looking at him for the first time not as a shadow, but as a rival who had already won.
"I will not be the one to go to your father," Mingyu said, his voice sandpaper-dry. "I have no desire to be the reason a man is executed for the crime of being loved by a Princess. And I have too much pride to drag a woman to the altar who is mourning someone else while she holds my hand."
He stood up, his movements stiff and formal. He walked toward the door, stopping just a few feet from where Wonwoo stood. The height difference between the two men was negligible, but the tension was immense.
"I will tell the Council and the King that I am the one who wishes to call off the wedding," Mingyu stated, looking Wonwoo directly in the eye. "I will tell them that I have realized our temperaments are not a match, and that the alliance would be better served through trade agreements rather than a hollow marriage. I will take the blame, and I will return to my own lands."
He turned back to Y/N, a shadow of a smile touching his lips, one that didn't reach his eyes. "But understand this: my protection ends the moment I leave. The King will be furious. He will look for someone to blame for my departure, and he will look at your guard with fresh eyes once I am no longer here to distract him. You have the freedom you wanted, but it is a fragile thing."
Mingyu reached for the door handle, pausing one last time. "I won't tell your secret, but I won't help you keep it either. If you are going to run, you should do it while the court is still reeling from my announcement. Because once I am gone, you will be the only target left for his rage."
With a final, sharp nod, Mingyu exited the hall, leaving the heavy doors to swing shut behind him.
The silence following Mingyu’s departure was thick and suffocating. Wonwoo didn't wait more than a heartbeat before he was across the room, his hands finding Y/N’s shoulders. The professional mask had completely shattered, replaced by an urgency that bordered on desperation. He knew the clock was ticking; once Mingyu delivered his news to the King, the palace would transform into a cage of suspicion.
"We leave tonight," Wonwoo insisted, his voice a low, frantic rasp. "Do not pack a trunk. Do not look for jewelry. We take only what we can carry on a horse. Mingyu has given us a window, but it is closing with every step he takes toward your father’s study. Once the King realizes the alliance is dead, he will look for a reason, and he will look at me first."
Y/N nodded, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. They moved through the servant passages, ghosts in the corridors they had walked for years. Wonwoo led the way, his hand never leaving hers, his eyes scanning every shadow. They reached the heavy iron gate of the south postern, the air smelling of damp earth and freedom. Wonwoo pulled the heavy bolt back, the metal screeching just slightly, and for a moment, the open woods lay before them, dark and inviting.
"Just a few more steps," Wonwoo whispered, stepping out into the cool night air and reaching back to pull her through.
"Is that as far as you thought you would get?"
The voice was like a blade of ice cutting through the dark. Torches flared to life all at once, illuminating the stone archway and the line of royal guards standing with crossbows leveled. Standing in the center of the light was Y/N’s father, the King. He looked older in the torchlight, his face twisted in a mask of cold, controlled fury. He didn't look at his daughter; his eyes were fixed entirely on Wonwoo’s hand, which was still gripped tightly around Y/N’s.
"I trusted you with her life," the King said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I gave you the honor of standing in her shadow for years, and you used that proximity to rot the very foundation of my kingdom. Did you truly believe I wouldn't notice the way you looked at her? Or did you think my daughter’s duty was so cheap it could be stolen by a common soldier in a garden?"
Wonwoo didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he stepped in front of her, shielding her body with his own as the guards moved in to circle them. The freedom of the woods was only ten feet away, but it might as well have been on another continent.
The King took a step forward, the orange light of the torches dancing in his eyes. He ignored the crossbows and the tension in the air, focusing entirely on the man who had dared to touch the crown’s most precious asset. He didn't order an execution, not yet. Instead, he looked at Wonwoo with a terrifying, quiet curiosity.
"You have thrown away your life, your honor, and the safety of your family for this," the King said, gesturing vaguely to the dark woods behind them. "A common guard, raised in the barracks, believing he could steal a Princess. Tell me, soldier, before I have you stripped of your rank and thrown into the black cells: why? What could you possibly see in my daughter that was worth the certain death you are facing now?"
Wonwoo didn't flinch. Even with the tips of the crossbow bolts glinting in the light around him, he stood tall. He felt Y/N’s fingers tremble in his, and he squeezed them once, firmly, before finally speaking.
"It wasn't a choice, Your Majesty," Wonwoo began, his voice surprisingly steady. "I didn't look at her and see a Princess or a political alliance. I saw a girl who was forced to grow up in rooms full of people who only wanted something from her. I love her because I am the only one who knows what her silence sounds like. I love her because I have seen the weight she carries every single day, and I wanted to be the one person she didn't have to be strong for."
He took a small breath, his eyes meeting the King’s without a shred of apology. "I love her because I noticed the things no one else cared to look for. I know how she breathes when she’s afraid, and I know exactly how much she has sacrificed for a crown that only feels like a cage. You see a legacy, My Lord. I see a person. And if loving her as a person instead of a puppet is a crime, then I am guilty a thousand times over."
The King’s expression didn't soften; if anything, his jaw tightened at the raw honesty in Wonwoo's voice. He looked at his daughter, seeing the way she was looking at Wonwoo, not with the practiced grace of a royal, but with a desperate, heartbreaking devotion.
Y/N stepped forward, her movement so sudden and determined that the guards with the crossbows shifted their weight. She did not let go of Wonwoo’s hand; instead, she used it to pull herself level with him, standing shoulder-to-shoulder against the light of the torches.
"He is right, Father," she said, her voice ringing out with a clarity she had never possessed in the Council chambers. "You ask why he loves me as if it is a mystery, but the real question is why you never bothered to know me well enough to ask that yourself. For years, I have been a piece on your board. I have smiled when told, spoken when prompted, and agreed to a marriage that would have withered my soul just to keep your peace."
She looked at her father, seeing the king first and the parent second, and for the first time in twenty one years, she didn't look away.
"You see his devotion as a betrayal of his rank, but it is the only honest thing in this entire palace," she continued, a single tear silvering her cheek but her gaze remaining steady. "Wonwoo didn't steal me. He saved me. He saw the girl you forgot existed beneath the silk and the titles. If you punish him for loving me, then you are punishing the only person in this kingdom who actually knows who your daughter is. You can throw him in the cells, or you can take his life, but you cannot undo the fact that he has already given me more freedom in his silence than you ever gave me in your halls."
She took a shaky breath, her grip on Wonwoo’s hand tightening until her knuckles were white. "If he is a criminal for seeing me as a person, then so am I. If he goes to the dungeons, I will follow him. If he is exiled, I will walk beside him. You taught me that my life belongs to the crown, but tonight I am telling you that my heart belongs to him. You can keep the Princess, Father, but you will never truly have me back."
The King stood motionless, the flicker of the torches casting deep, unreadable shadows across his face.
The King stood motionless, the flicker of the torches casting deep shadows across his weathered face. He looked at his daughter, really looked at her, and saw not a political pawn, but a woman whose spirit he had nearly extinguished. He saw her hand gripped tightly in Wonwoo’s and realized that the "loyalty" he had demanded from his guard was nothing compared to the devotion Wonwoo had actually given her. The silence stretched, the guards waiting for a command to strike, but it never came.
"I have spent my life building walls to protect this kingdom," the King finally said, his voice losing its iron edge and sounding, for the first time, like that of a tired father. "I thought that by securing your future through alliances, I was protecting you as well. But standing here, seeing the way you look at him... I realize I have only succeeded in building a prison for my own child." He let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "If I force this, I lose my daughter. And if I lose you, what was the point of the kingdom?"
He signaled to the archers, and with a collective rustle of leather and wood, they lowered their crossbows. The King stepped forward, stopping just a few feet away. He looked Wonwoo in the eye, not with fury, but with a searching, heavy solemnity. "You say you know what her silence sounds like. You say you know the person beneath the crown. That is a burden heavier than any sword, soldier. If I allow this, you are no longer just a guard. You are the guardian of her happiness. If you fail her, there is no corner of this world where you can hide from me."
He turned back to Y/N, reaching out a hesitant hand to brush a stray hair from her forehead. "The alliance with the North will be difficult to mend, and the Council will scream for blood. There will be no secret flight into the woods tonight. If you want this man, you will have him, but you will do it properly. We will find a way to make him more than a soldier in the eyes of the court. It will take time, and it will be a scandal that tests us all, but I will not be the man who broke my daughter’s heart to save a border."
He looked at their joined hands and gave a small, weary nod. "Go back inside. Both of you. We have a great deal of work to do to explain why the Princess is marrying her shield instead of a Prince."
The transition from being hunted fugitives to an officially recognized couple happened with a dizzying speed that left the palace reeling. After the King’s public dismissal of the guards, the heavy atmosphere of the courtyard evaporated, replaced by the hushed whispers of the court. But for Y/N and Wonwoo, the noise of the world didn't matter. They were led not to a cell or a hidden path, but back to the private solar overlooking the moonlit gardens, the very place where their secret had lived in the shadows for so long.
As the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them, the silence was no longer a weapon used against them; it was a sanctuary. For a long moment, they simply stood in the center of the room, the space between them finally free of the "three-pace rule." The torchlight from the hallway was gone, replaced by the soft, silver glow of the moon spilling across the floorboards. Wonwoo was the first to move. He unbuckled the heavy leather vambraces from his forearms, the metal clattering onto a side table, a sound of a soldier finally laying down his arms.
"It doesn't feel real," he whispered, his voice thick with a vulnerability he had never been allowed to show.
Y/N crossed the room, her silk skirts rustling like a long-held breath finally released. When she reached him, she didn't just take his hand; she leaned her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart. It was beating fast, matching her own. Wonwoo wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close that the cold metal of his remaining armor was the only thing between them. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closing as he inhaled the scent of jasmine in her hair, a scent he had inhaled from a distance for years, but could finally claim as his own.
The relief was a physical wave, washing away the exhaustion of the last few days. Wonwoo pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands sliding up to cradle her face. There was no urgency now, no four-minute timer, no shadow guards lingering in the doorway. He traced the line of her jaw with a slow, reverent thumb, his gaze lingering on her eyes as if confirming she was truly there. "For three years, I thought the only way I could love you was in the dark," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rasp. "I thought I would spend my whole life being the man who stood behind you, never the man who stood beside you."
Y/N reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down until their lips were inches apart. "You were always beside me, Wonwoo. Even when you were standing at the door."
When they finally kissed, it was slow and deep, a silent vow exchanged in the moonlight. It wasn't the frantic, desperate kiss of a doomed couple; it was the quiet, steady beginning of a life lived in the light. They had a long road ahead, angry councilmen, broken treaties, and a court that would never truly forget, but as Wonwoo pulled her back into the safety of his embrace, Y/N knew that for the first time in her life, she wasn't just a Princess. She was home.
The walk to the royal chambers felt entirely different than it had for the last three years. Usually, Wonwoo followed several paces behind, his eyes scanning the corridors for threats, his presence a comfort but a distant one. Tonight, as they climbed the grand spiral staircase, his hand remained firmly in hers. There were still guards posted at the turns of the halls, but as the couple passed, the men didn't move to intervene; they simply lowered their heads in a new, uncertain kind of respect.
When they reached the heavy, gold-inlaid doors of her bedroom, Wonwoo paused. It was the threshold he had stood outside of for a thousand nights, guarding her sleep while he sat in the cold silence of the hallway. He looked at the handle, then back at Y/N, a trace of his old professional hesitation flickering in his eyes. Y/N smiled and tugged on their interlaced hands, an invitation to further break the boundary that the crown had set.
"I have spent three years imagining what it would be like to walk through this door with you," he whispered, his voice low and private. "And now that it’s open... I find I’m almost afraid to step inside. As if the dream might break."
Y/N didn't say a word. She simply squeezed his hand and pushed the door open.
The room was bathed in the warm, amber glow of a dying fire in the hearth. The scent of cedar and dried lavender hung in the air. As the door clicked shut behind them, the finality of the sound felt like a seal on their old lives. The palace, the King, and the looming scandal were all on the other side of that wood. Inside, there was only the soft crackle of the embers and the two of them.
Wonwoo turned to her, the firelight catching the sharp planes of his face and softening the intensity in his dark eyes. He reached out, his fingers slowly unlacing the heavy cloak from her shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a pool of silk. He moved with a reverence that made her heart ache, his touch light as if he were handling something incredibly fragile.
"No more doors between us," he murmured, stepping into her space until their shadows merged against the far wall. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering there, his thumb brushing against her temple.
For the first time, he wasn't looking for assassins or listening for footsteps in the hall. He was only looking at her. He leaned down, his lips ghosting against her forehead before he pulled her into a slow, deep embrace. In the quiet of the room, far above the rest of the world, they finally let the weight of the crown and the sword fall away, ready to face the first night of a future they had finally earned.
In the quiet of her chambers, the adrenaline of the confrontation finally broke, and the reality of their survival crashed over her. Y/N looked up at Wonwoo, her eyes shimmering in the dying firelight, and a single, heavy tear escaped, tracing a slow path down her cheek. It wasn't a tear of sadness, but of a profound, overwhelming relief that had been three years in the making.
Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly, his heart aching at the sight. He reached out with a hand that had spent years gripped around the hilt of a sword, but now moved with the most delicate tenderness. Using the pad of his thumb, he caught the tear before it could reach her jaw, wiping it away with a lingering touch. He didn't pull his hand back; instead, he let his palm cradle her face, his thumb brushing over her skin as if to ensure she was truly real and truly safe.
"No more tears, Y/N," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion. "The fighting is over. We don't have to hide anymore."
He leaned down, his eyes searching hers for a brief second before he closed the distance. The kiss was slow and deep, a quiet anchor in the middle of their changing world. It tasted of salt and the lingering heat of the hearth, a soft promise that he was no longer just her guard, but her partner. As he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against him, the last of the tension left her body. In the safety of her room, with the world outside finally silenced, they stayed like that for a long time, two people who had finally found their way home.
Y/N wrapped her arms around Wonwoo’s neck to also pull him closer, before slightly pushing him towards her bed.
“Your Highness,” Wonwoo breathed against her lips, the habit of three years of service flickering in his voice even now.
But Y/N didn't let him finish. She pressed her fingers gently to his lips, shaking her head as a fresh tear of relief welled in her eyes.
“No titles,” she whispered, her voice a soft command that had nothing to do with royalty and everything to do with the woman she had finally become. “Just Y/N. From tonight on, it’s just Y/N and Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers. A small, genuine smile finally broke through his stoic mask, the kind of smile he had only ever saved for her in the shadows of the garden. He reached up, his thumb catching the tear on her cheek and wiping it away with a lingering, tender touch.
“Y/N,” he repeated, the name sounding like a prayer in the quiet room.
He leaned down again, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was no longer a secret, but a beginning. There were no ranks between them now, no barriers of stone or silk; there was only the steady heat of the fire and the two of them, finally whole.
When Y/N started fiddling with the latchings on his armor, his heart stuttered, “are you sure?” He asked, looking down at her with nothing but love in his eyes.
“I’ve been in love with you the moment you offered to carry that huge bread basket for me when we were children,” Y/N confessed in between pressing kisses all over his face. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Wonwoo chuckled at the confession and nodded before undoing the latches on his chestplate. Y/N watched him undo his left shoulder and when he was finished, undid the right for him. Letting the metal arm pieces fall to the ground. They worked together to take the rest of his armor off, from the chestplate to the leg pieces until there was just Wonwoo in the simple shirt and pants.
“There’s the boy I fell in love with,” Y/N sighed, before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
Wonwo quickly moved his hands from cupping her jaw to the lace of her dress, trying his hardest to undo the laces without looking and not accidently knotting them.
Y/N chuckled and reached behind her own back to remove Wonwoo’s hands to undo the laces herself. Wonwoo’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment but went back to cupping her cheeks as she quickly undid the laces of her dress and then pushed the heavy fabric off her shoulders when it was loose enough, leaving her in a light frock.
He cupped her ass and slightly nudged her with his legs causing Y/N to lift both of her legs and let Wonwoo carry her while making his way toward the bed. Once he felt his legs hit the edge of the bed, he gently lowered her onto the bed.
Y/N gasped when he disconnected their lips and slowly started kissing all over her face. Her nose, her eyes, her forehead, then started moving down towards her jaw and neck. She sighed, reveling in his attention and moved her hands from around his neck to in his hair.
Wonwoo groaned, when she started pulling on his hair when he started pressing kisses to her collarbone and started pushing the straps of her frock off her shoulders and slowly pulling it down to reveal her chest.
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Wonwoo confessed, his voice dropping to a low, rough velvet that made her heart skip. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes tracing every curve of her face in the firelight as if he were seeing her clearly for the very first time. “But tonight, here with the truth between us... you’ve never looked more like yourself. And that is what I’ve always been in love with.”
Y/N felt a fresh wave of warmth spread through her chest, her fingers tightening in his hair as he peppered kisses along her chest and stomach.
Wonwoo looked up in between kisses to her nipples to watch her glistening face melt at the pleasure he was giving her, before giving a particular harder suck to her left nipple. She let out a moan and tightened her grip on his hair.
“Wonwoo,” she panted as his hand went to spread her legs and started moving his kisses lower. She finally let go of his hair so he could move further down her body, grasping the bed sheets feeling him settle between her legs.
“I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here,” Wonwoo said, pressing kisses against her hip bones. “If anything doesn’t feel right, tell me.”
Y/N nodded, and reached down to lace her hand with his, “You weren’t out bedding every maiden that looked your way?”
Wonwoo scoffed and squeezed her hand, “I was sworn to celibacy when I became your knight, lest you forget.”
Y/N chuckled, and squeezed his hand back, “I trust you Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo smiled up at her before moving his other hand to her hip to keep her in place and lowering his lips to her core.
He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but the other knights had shared stories about pleasuring women. They talked about tasting women and the sounds that they made, so he knew that the moans Y/N was making when he was kissing her earlier was what should happen as well.
He started licking through her folds, tasting the arousal that was nestled between her legs, and noticed that the spot at the top of her mound made her moan the most. He moved his attention towards the top of her cunt and started rubbing his tongue in circles feeling her whimper and buck her hips gently.
“Does this feel good love?” He asked, the vibration of his low voice causing waves of arousal shoot through her body, causing her to wrap her legs around his shoulders, locking him in place.
He switched between rubbing her sex and sucking the pebble before she squeezed their interlocked hands again.
“It feels good Wonwoo,” she trembled, hips stuttering before releasing all over his face. Wonwoo continued licking her through her release, eager to taste every last drop of her.
“You taste devine,” he praised, running his tongue all around her, triggering another build up. “Can you do it again for me? Please?”
Y/N whined, tightening her legs around his head, the overstimulation on her clit turning from discomfort to pleasure again. After a few more hard sucks to her mound she fell apart on his tongue again, back arching this time and moved her free hand to try and pry his head away from her in case he wanted another orgasm.
Wonwoo licked his lips, not wanting to waste a single drop of her arousal before slowly kissing his way back up her body. A kiss to her kip, below her belly button, her rib, below her breasts, her nipple, her sternum, her jaw, and then finally her lips.
She moaned into his mouth, not used to the sweet taste of what she could only assume was herself, before tugging his shirt off him.
Wonwoo’s training had done him well. He was no longer the skinny baker's boy she had known in their youth; he had grown into all his features quite well. His chest was broad, a testament to the grueling years spent on the training grounds and the heavy toll of his duties, his shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of her safety for years, and the solid muscle of his arms provided a sense of security that no stone wall ever could. The lean, awkward teenager had been replaced by a man of formidable presence, forged by the discipline of the guard and the silent fire of his devotion to her.
She ran her hands across his chiseled chest, before tugging on his pants. He chuckled, and nodded sitting back to take them off.
As she watched him remove his pants and reveal his cock. Y/N’s cheeks flushed at the size of him, as Wonwoo's breath also hitched at the cool air flooding the room from the open window. He leaned back down over her, interlacing one of their hands together and pinning them by her head. His other hand went back between her legs to make sure she was wet enough to take him without any pain.
When his hand came in contact with her wetness he lined himself up with her before looking back up into her eyes.
“I love you,” he softly smiled, connecting their lips before slowly pushing himself into her.
“I love you too,” she sighed, trying to adjust to his size. Wonwoo winced, as Y/N tried to adjust to his size, clenching his cock a few times, panting heavily, rubbing her hard nipples against his own, and holding onto his bicep.
Once Wonwoo was all the way in her, Y/N moaned, and squeezed his bicep harder. Wonwoo groaned at how tight she was, before pushing his hips back, taking a second to catch his breath and rocking his hips back into hers.
Y/N threw her head back into the pillows as Wonwoo continued to move, the pleasure building up in her stomach before she gently put her hands onto his chest, asking him to stop.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, a concerned look spreading across his face.
Y/N batted her eye lashes up at him before turning onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows and knees, the sheets catching under her. Wonwoo groaned before leaning over her and interlocking their hands again before sliding back into her. This time thrusting into her harsher.
“I’m close,” Y/N panted against the pillows. Wonwoo would have almost missed it, if he wasn’t so focused on the noises she was making. He smiled and squeezed their interlocked hands before moving to cup her breast and squeezing her nipple.
The stimulation was enough to cause Y/N to climax, her walls fluttering around his cock, causing Wonwoo to also climax, emptying himself into her. As Wonwoo’s climax finished, he smiled and slowly pulled out of her, pressing kisses along her spine as she stayed propped up on her elbows and knees to catch her breath.
Once he finally noticed that her breath was evening out, he laid down beside her, arms under his head to look up at her glowing face. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. He chuckled and reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Where did you learn all of that Sir Wonwoo?” She panted, finally opening up her eyes and slowly moved her legs so that she was laying on her stomach. She turned her head toward him to see him reaching towards the floor to grab something off the ground before coming up with a rag to wipe her down.
“I have only heard stories from the other knights I trained with. Although they never told me how the deed is done, they did tell me what their lovers enjoyed,” he smirked.
Y/N smiled, rolling on to her back so he could clean between her legs, before spreading them. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t complaining. More so in awe of how good it felt for our first times.”
Wonwoo carefully opened her legs and gently pressed the rag between her legs, dabbing the remaining release from between them and pressing a kiss to her clit.
Y/N gasped, at the contact before nudging him with her foot. “Give me some time to recover.”
Wonwoo chuckled, “sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
He moved back up to lay beside her, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. With a gentle, inviting smile, he patted his broad chest, signaling for her to lay on top of him. Y/N didn’t hesitate; she shifted closer, resting her head against the steady thrum of his heart and draping her arm across his torso, finally feeling the warmth she had only been allowed to imagine for years.
“I can’t believe that we get to be together,” she whispered, her voice muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic. The words felt fragile, as if saying them too loudly might wake her from a dream. “For so long, I thought the only way I could keep you safe was to keep you away. I thought our lives would always be lived in glances and whispers.”
Wonwoo’s hand found her hair, his fingers stroking the tresses with a slow, rhythmic grace that acted as a balm to her nerves. “The wait is over, Y/N,” he murmured, his chest vibrating beneath her cheek as he spoke. “No more hallways between us. No more watching you walk away into rooms I wasn’t allowed to enter.”
He tilted his head down, resting his chin atop her hair, his other arm wrapping securely around her waist to hold her flush against him. In the quiet of the room, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and their synchronized breathing. The baker’s boy who had become a soldier, and the Princess who had become a woman, were finally just two souls sharing a bed and a future.
“We have the rest of our lives for it to feel real,” Wonwoo promised, his voice a low, steady anchor in the dark. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
The palace was no longer a labyrinth of secrets, but a home filled with the sound of celebration. The scent of orange blossoms and expensive wine lingered in the air, drifting up from the courtyard where the kingdom was still toasted to the health of the newly titled Consort and his Princess. But inside the royal chambers, the heavy oak doors had been shut against the world, finally granting the couple the one thing they had fought the hardest for: a moment of absolute peace.
The transition from a disgraced guard to the Grand Commander of the Royal Guard was a transformation that changed the very foundation of the kingdom. The King, recognizing that no man was more capable of defending the crown than the one who loved its heir, officially placed the silver seal of the Knights into Wonwoo’s hand. He was no longer the skinny baker’s boy or the silent shadow; he had become the kingdom’s most formidable pillar. His broad chest now filled out the midnight-blue velvet and silver-plated armor of his station, a physique forged by years of discipline and the heavy weight of a responsibility he took with absolute gravity.
Under Wonwoo’s leadership, the atmosphere of the palace shifted. He replaced the atmosphere of surveillance with one of brotherhood, training a new generation of knights who looked at him with the same reverence the common people did. In the war room, he sat at the King’s right hand, his directness as a soldier cutting through the political noise of the Council. He had become a man of such presence that the Northern factions no longer dared to test the borders; they knew the Princess was guarded by a man who had already proven he would face death for her.
The ceremony had been a masterclass in royal spectacle, yet for Wonwoo, it felt like a dream occurring in slow motion. As he stood at the altar in his formal whites, the sunlight filtering through the stained glass caught the sharp, handsome lines of his face. When Y/N walked down the long stone aisle, the room fell into a hush that wasn't born of protocol, but of genuine awe. She wasn't just a Princess being wed; she was a woman reclaiming her life. When they finally stood face-to-face, Wonwoo didn't wait for the priest's prompting. He reached out and took her hands, his large, calloused fingers enveloping hers with a grounding strength that said, I have you.
The reception had followed with endless toasts and the clinking of crystal, but the true wedding happened in the small, stolen glances they shared across the high table. Every time a lord addressed him as "Lord Consort" or "Commander," Wonwoo would feel a phantom weight of his old armor, but then he would feel Y/N’s knee brush against his under the table, anchoring him. They danced once—a slow, sweeping waltz that cleared the floor. In that moment, with his hand on the small of her back and her hand on his broad shoulder, the "patterns" of their love were on display for the whole kingdom to see. They moved as one, a seamless harmony that proved their souls had been married long before the rings were ever exchanged.
Now, hours later, the echoes of the cheers had finally faded, replaced by the crackle of the fire in their private suite. Wonwoo finished unbuckling the last of his formal gear, the heavy silver-trimmed cloak hitting the chair with a dull thud. He stood in his simple linen undershirt, his chest broad and rising steadily with his breath as he looked at Y/N by the hearth. The transition from the public hero to the private husband was visible in the way his shoulders finally dropped, the tension of the day melting away.
He moved toward her, his bare feet silent on the rugs. He didn't say a word as he reached her; he simply wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back against the solid warmth of his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the lingering scent of her wedding perfume and the familiar, sweet warmth of her skin. "I thought the day would never end," he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against her back. "I spent the whole night wanting to spirit you away from the crowds and bring you back here, where it’s just us. I think,” Wonwoo began, his voice raspy from a day of formal vows and political pleasantries, “that if I had to shake one more Duke’s hand or hear one more toast about 'border stability,' I might have actually seized the crown and run for the hills.”
Y/N laughed, the sound bright and clear in the quiet room. She stepped toward him, reaching up to help him with the stubborn silver fastenings at his throat. “And here I thought the Grand Commander was supposed to have infinite patience. You looked so stoic at the altar, Wonwoo. Like a statue carved from marble.”
“I wasn't being stoic,” he admitted, his hands coming up to rest on her waist, pulling her flush against his broad chest. “I was terrified that if I moved too quickly or breathed too loud, the illusion would shatter. I kept waiting for a guard to tap me on the shoulder and tell me to get back to my post at the door.”
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closing for a moment as he breathed her in. “But then you took my hand, and your skin was so warm. That was when I knew it was real.”
Y/N leaned back just enough to look at him, her fingers tracing the sharp, familiar line of his jaw. “No more posts at the door, Wonwoo. From now on, you’re the one inside the room. With me.”
“It’s a strange promotion,” he murmured with a small, lopsided smirk, the one he only ever showed her. “I went from guarding your life to being your life. I think I prefer the new title.”
“And what title is that?” she teased, her heart thudding against her ribs as his grip on her waist tightened.
Wonwoo didn't answer with words at first. He swept her up into his arms, his strength effortless as he carried her toward the bed. He laid her down against the silk pillows before settling beside her, patting his chest in that silent, sacred invitation. Once she was tucked against him, her head rising and falling with his breath, he whispered into her hair.
“Just Wonwoo,” he said softly. “Your Wonwoo.”
“That’s the only one I ever wanted,” she replied, closing her eyes as the peace of their new life finally settled over them both
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rich!choi seungcheol x f.reader, the reader also used to be in love with wonwoo
When it comes to your friend group it’s clear you’re in an extremely different tax bracket. Things get complicated when you drunkenly marry Seungcheol after he tells you he wants to take care of you.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, smut, romance, angst
𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au, married in vegas au
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.5k
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking, blacking out, cussing, lots of emotions, and being confused about feelings.
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft dom choel, multiple sex scenes, consensual drunk sex, unprotected sex, sex in the shower, fooling around in the bath, clit play, breast/nipple play, fingering, multiple positions, creampie, big dick seungcheol, dirty talk, nicknames: pinky, baby, sweetheart (hers) cheol (his)
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+
𝐚𝐧: I couldn’t have written this story without @aeristudios. They were literally here for every step of this story. Thank you @orbitondgtl & @hanniehaeo for beta reading this one.
🎧: delicate - taylor swift | snooze - sza | sacrifice- mariah the scientist | just for me - pinkpantheress
There are times when you realize that you and your friend group are in different tax brackets. All of the boys in your friend group have different types of jobs. Soonyoung owns a dance studio, Joshua is a producer, Jeonghan and Mingyu work at Seungcheol‘s company, which he started up when he was twenty. Wonwoo works a tech job with Minghao. Then there is you, working as a freelance writer. A struggling freelance writer at that.
When the money is good for you, things are great, but recently, you can't find work to save your life, and you’ve had to dip into your savings to get by. It’s safe to say that recently things have been quite tough for you.
Sitting in Seungcheol's expensive penthouse with a beautiful view of the city, you’re next to Wonwoo, listening to the rest of the boys go on about what the plan should be for Seungcheol's upcoming birthday. He’s turning thirty, and the boys have been talking about the possibility of a trip to celebrate.
“I say we just commit to finally doing a group Vegas trip.” Jeonghan chimed in. He and Soonyoung have been trying to plan a Vegas trip for years at this point.
“Really, Vegas?” Minghao seems unamused by this idea.
“That could be fun. Could you guys all swing, missing some work for this?” Seungcheol asked.
“I mean, technically, you're mine and Jeonghan's boss.” Mingyu laughs.
All the boys agree to go other than Wonwoo, who is traveling for a work trip that week. When they all turn your attention to you, you wish you could disappear. There is absolutely no way you can afford a trip right now. It’s been over a month since you had a job. You shouldn’t be doing anything lavish.
“I probably shouldn’t travel. I’m trying to lock down a few jobs.”
Seungcheol's eyes lock on yours, and he stares at you intently. He’s always had this ability to easily read you. Setting his beer on the counter, he reaches for his phone in his pocket. You watch as he starts typing away on his keyboard.
Your phone buzzes, and you instantly know he’s texting you.
From cheol 🍒: just go on the trip.
From pinky: I wish I could, but money is tight with the lack of jobs I’m getting.
From cheol 🍒: literally just agree to going and I’ll pay for you. You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll give you a credit card and you can swipe away and pretend the money is coming from a magical account.
From pinky: that’s insane.
He sets his phone down and gives you a smile across the room. “Okay, let’s figure out who is rooming with who. Jeonghan and Shua together. Hao and Mingyu, and then Soonyoung and Pinky.”
“I thought Pinky didn’t agree.” Joshua chimes in. It used to embarrass you, that your nickname refers to the time the wind blew your skirt up and flashed all the boys your pink panties. It’s been over ten years now, and the nickname doesn’t faze you anymore.
“Pinky is going. Right?” He gives you a look, letting you know you can’t say no.
“I’ll go—“ You know this is an absolutely insane idea.
“Good luck. Let me know how this goes.” Wonwoo laughed beside you.
-
Arriving in Vegas feels like an absolute whirlwind. You barely have time to settle in before the boys are dragging you around.
Jeonghan had the absolutely insane idea that the whole group had to be in a bar when it was officially Seungcheol’s birthday . That would be great if you haven’t been drinking for literally hours.
Your hand was gripping Soonyoung’s as he led you towards the bar. He’s talking to the bartender as you attempt to fix this dress that is way too short for your liking.
Looking over where your friend group is, you see Seungcheol watching you. The moment Soonyoung has drinks, he leads you back to the bar, holding his own drink and one for the birthday boy.
As soon as you're close to the group, Jeonghan grabs your arm, moving you closer to the birthday boy. Holding out Seungcheol’s jack and coke he gives you a smile, pressing his lips to your forehead for a quick kiss. This isn't something out of the ordinary, as the entire friend group tends to lack personal boundaries.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” Seungcheol’s hand lingers on your lower back. Standing next to you, he leans down and says, “You look really pretty.” Being – for the most part – one of the only girls in this friend group, it’s not unusual for the boys to compliment you. The way he says it feels different though.
“You look pretty good yourself, birthday boy.” He gives you a crooked smile.
“Let me buy your next drink.”
“I didn’t buy my last one, Soonyoung did.”
“Just let me buy it.”
“But it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be spending money on drinks.“
“It may be my birthday, but I want to take care of you.” You can hear Joshua and Jeonghan arguing about something in the distance, but all you can fully focus on is the way Seungcheol is staring at you.
“Cheol—“
“Pinky?”
“You don’t need to take care of me. I should be buying you drinks.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet. Without another thought, he pulls out a black metal card and hands it to you. The cold metal hits your hand before you can even argue with him, a clear indication of how wealthy Seungcheol actually is.
“Why are you giving me your card?”
“Because, the whole time we’re here in Vegas, I want you to just use it. Like I said before, pretend it’s coming out of your bank account if it makes you feel better.”
Maybe he’s right, clearly he does have too much money. Why on earth would he freely hand you his black card and just tell you to spend his money?
“Here, time for shots.” Jeonghan comes over holding a tray of what looks like tequila shots.
“Not now Hannie.” You try to wave him off. Before you can say anything else, he holds a tequila shot to your lips.
“Be a good girl and take the shot for Cheol’s birthday.”
You glance over at Seungcheol, who grabs a shot and holds it up to his own lips.
The golden liquid burns as it slides down your throat. You’ve been here an hour, and this is the third shot Jeonghan has passed out. It’s not that you're a light weight, but the amount of alcohol you’re being given will definitely have your judgement feeling cloudy before you know it.
“Cheol, chug your drink and then get on the dance floor with me and Pinky.” Soonyoung pulls you away from Seungcheol before you can even argue with him. You shoved his credit card into your bra to keep it safe.
You aren’t even able to object as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor. Looking back, you find Minghao following behind.
The music is loud, and it’s so crowded you’re pressed against Soonyoung. He turns you around so your back is plastered to his front. It isn’t unusual for you to end up on the dance floor with these two.
Soonyoung rolls his hips with yours to the beat of the music. Looking over, you watch as a random pretty girl has found her way into Minghao’s arms.
You feel Soonyoung release you, and before you can turn around to question him, another body is pressed up to you. A large hand rests on your stomach, rolling your body back against him. There is no way Soonyoung would let a random man dance with you, this has to be one of the boys.
“Do you mind if I take Soonyoung‘s spot?” Seungcheol's husky voice rings in your ear. This is just the man you preferred to be dancing with.
“No.” You say loud enough for him to hear over the loud music.
One hand stays resting on your stomach while the other rests on your hip. His thumb drags over the side of your thong, pressing against the tight fabric of your dress.
You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol in your system or the feeling of Seungcheol's body against yours that makes your head spin.
“Cheol—“ you practically moan, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
“I can see why Soonyoung likes dancing with you.”
Pulling away from him, you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His body is pressed up against yours. You’re straddling his thigh as you move to the beat of the music.
“God, you’re so pretty.” He leans down so his nose is brushing yours. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes—“ the moment the word leaves your mouth, his lips crash into yours. One hand grips your hip while the other rests on your ass, pulling you closer to him. It’s been so long since you had properly kissed anyone. The feeling of his pouty lips against yours is enough to leave you feeling drunk on lust.
Pulling away, he whispered against your lips, “I have wanted you for so long.” Without another word, you lean in, crashing your lips to his. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him close to you. His strong thigh is between your legs as you grind against him. Your lips fight for dominance, everything around you fading away.
He pulls back and gives you a grin. “I shouldn’t kiss you like this in public.“
“Why is that?”
“Because I can’t keep my hands to myself when we kiss like that.”
Mingyu and Soonyoung walk towards you, pulling you away from your moment. Soonyoung grabs your hand, pulling you away from Seungcheol. “Come on, Hannie got more shots.”
The more shots they’re able to pour in your mouth, the hazier things get. The liquid courage has you thinking with a one track mind. All you can think about is an equally drunk Seungcheol.
Leaning against the wall in the club, Seungcheol has you caged in with his arms on either side of your head.
He’s leaving a sea of kisses across your neck up to your jaw. “We should get married.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m just crazy about you.” He peppers your jaw with kisses.
“We can’t get married.”
“Lovebirds, you’re being a little too intense.” Jeonghan teased, pulling Seungcheol away from you.
“You’re just jealous, Hannie.” Seungcheol leans in to kiss you again.
“Come on, loverboy.” He grabs Seungcheol, pulling him away from you.
Leaning against the way you watch as Mingyu pours straight from the bottle into the birthday boy's mouth.
Joshua walks over to you and reaches up, wiping away your smeared lipgloss. “Are you good?” You’ve always been close with him. He’s always one of the first to check on you.
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna leave with Cheol.” There is no way you can just leave this club, go back to your hotel room with Soonyoung, and pretend this never happened.
“Can’t say I’m shocked. Just make sure you use a condom.”
“Shua—” You whine.
“I’m not judging you, just be safe.” He kisses the top of your head before sending Seungcheol back towards you. “I’m serious, use a condom.” He pats Seungcheol on the back.
Pushing yourself off the wall, you walk up to Seungcheol. “Can we please get out of here?” This club feels too crowded, and you just want to be alone with the man you can’t stop kissing.
Hand in hand, he leads you out of the club. He pushes you up against the wall, hidden away from prying eyes. His lips are all over your neck, and his hand is under your tight dress, toying with your thong. It’s taking everything in him to not slide his finger right into your tight core, right out there in the open.
“I want you so bad—” You moan, closing your eyes.
“I will give you anything you could possibly want.”
The last thing you remember is Seungcheol pulling you away from the wall.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Bright morning light peaking through the curtains wakes you up. You’re an absolute idiot for not closing the curtains fully, even in your drunken state.
You quite possibly woke up with one of the worst hangovers of your life. The pounding in your head mixed with the feeling of nausea is unbearable. If you manage to survive getting out of bed, you quite possibly might kill Jeonghan for pouring too many shots of tequila down your throat.
Closing your eyes tighter, you move further into the bed. Something blocks you when you've barely nestled under the blankets. It bounces back when you push it aside, and when you finally turn around, you see Seungcheol. A lot of him. Your heart practically jumps out of your chest at the sight of him barely covered by a thin white sheet. That same sheet is doing nothing to hide his morning wood.
You remember kissing Seungcheol at the club while Jeonghan egged you on, and your heated makeout session as he pulled you away from the club. You even remember him putting his hand up your dress. You don’t remember anything that happened in this room, or what led you both to be naked. The dark marks across his neck are a clear indicator more than just innocent sleeping took place. You have reason to believe those marks were left by you.
You pull away from him as quietly as you can. Luckily, you’re in his room, so you could probably sneak out without him noticing. The issue is what happens when you get to your room you share with Soonyoung. You can barely slip away underneath the blankets before he pulls you close.
“Stop trying to run away. Just cuddle with me.” He mumbles, not bothering to open his eyes.
“Seungcheol—”
“Baby, just stay in bed. My head hurts, and cuddling with you will fix it.”
“Baby?” You relax, letting him pull you closer to him. Lying on your side, he pulls your leg up so it’s resting on his stomach. He hasn’t bothered responding to your confusion about your new nickname.
“You’ve never called me baby before.”
“Well, you weren’t my wife before.” You must be hearing things. There is no way he just called you his wife. It feels as if an ice cold bucket of water was poured on you.
“Wife?”
“We got married?”
He knits his brows together. “Pinky, remember I told you I wanna take care of you?"
“I didn’t think you were serious about actually putting a ring on my finger.”
“Speaking of rings. I wanna get you a proper nice ring after I have some caffeine and food, and then possibly give you a reminder about our time in this bed.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Seungcheol—“
“Pinky, before you freak out, just think about the pros of us being married. I can give you a list if you want.” He’s absolutely insane. He can’t actually think randomly getting married in Vegas is a good idea. He has more money in his bank account than you’ll probably ever be worth.
“Why would you actually want to marry me?” You pull away from him.
“I have liked you since college. Long before I saw your cute pink panties. I have more money than I could ever need. I want to take care of you. You work so hard, and I don’t want you to stress about money. I think we’re a good pair. You can’t tell me you don’t have feelings for me.” Seungcheol is laying all his cards out on the table. He’s wanted you for as long as he can remember. This is one shot at trying to fully be with you. Who cares if you skipped a couple major steps and just married you.
“Cheol—“
“Do you not like me?” His face falls a little.
“I obviously like you. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have made out with you. It’s just… people are going to assume I’m a gold digger, or you’re my sugar daddy.”
“I can be your sugar daddy if you want me to be.”
“I’m being serious. This whole thing is crazy.”
He sits up. Reaching over, he rested his hand on your cheek. “It might be crazy, but I like you, and I know we could fall in love so easily if you gave us a real shot. We can pretend we’re just dating if you want. But I would prefer we go all in.”
Well, he’s clearly insane, and you might be too because suddenly his idea isn’t sounding so crazy. ”What does all in include?”
He gives you a gummy smile, “you move in with me, and we live as husband and wife. That means we can kiss and do all the things married people do.”
“Cheol, this is crazy.”
“I know, but let’s just see where this goes.”
“Okay—“
“How about we shower and then go get breakfast, and then I’ll get you a nice ring.” He pulls away the covers, revealing his very naked body. He stands up completely unfazed by the fact that he’s naked.
“Shower?”
“Yeah, I need to shower, and you probably want to shower, and I think we should save water and do it together.”
He walks off to the huge en-suite bathroom he has. You never got to fully look around this suite he booked while you were sober. Before going out, he met everyone at Jeonghan and Joshua’s room. This hotel is definitely too expensive for you. But for the boys, this is nothing.
Right now is the time to be brave. Seungcheol told you he wants to stay married and act like a married couple. If he’s your husband, you should have absolutely no issue joining him in the shower.
Walking into the large white and marble bathroom, you’re greeted by the sight of Seungcheol standing behind the glass. Your eyes are drawn to his very large length, that is basically hard.
“Is my wife going to join me?” He turns to his back and is facing you. Your eyes go to his olive tree tattoo. You remember him getting it Anytime you’ve gone to the pool or seen him shirtless you’ve always wanted to trace it.
Walking towards the shower you slide open the door and step inside. This shower is so big it could probably fit five people. The shower head is above you. Seungcheol steps aside, he’s still under the water but it gives you room.
“Can I kiss you again?” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him.
“Yes.”
The first time his lips touch yours it’s slow, as if he's testing the waters. Your hand rests on his chest. His hand rests on the back of your head, holding you close to him. His lips move against yours as if he needs you to breathe.
“I couldn’t believe it when you actually agreed to marry me.” He says with his lips against yours. “I would have married you years ago if you would have said yes.” He moves you backwards and your back hits the cold tile behind you.
“You didn’t think about maybe just asking me out on a date?” You say between feather light kisses against his lips.
“I have wanted to ask you out since college. There were a few things that complicated it. One being I was worried about our friend group, another one being that I thought Wonwoo liked you.”
He kind of hit the nail on the head with Wonwoo being brought up. Wonwoo didn't necessarily like you, but you had a good five years when you thought you were in love with him. Turns out time heals a broken heart and you let go of your feelings for him long ago. Wonwoo and you are still very close, you just don’t pine after him like you used to.
“Cheol—“
“You don't have to explain anything to me. Just promise me you’ll give us a shot.”
“I’ll give us a shot, but you don’t want you to worry about Wonwoo.”
“I’m not worried about Wonwoo now. I talked to him before we left and he told me not to worry about him.” Why on earth would he ask Wonwoo about what’s going on?
“Why did you talk to him?”
“My only birthday wish was, I was finally going to ask you to be mine. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on his toes.” He caged you against the shower wall. “This is the perfect way to spend the morning on my birthday.”
Wrapping your around his neck, you pull him closer to you. “Are you really serious about wanting to be married?”
“One hundred percent. Let me take care of you, baby.”
“I could get used to you calling me that.”
He crashed his lips into yours for a searing kiss. No man has ever kissed you quite like he has. The way his lips move against yours it’s almost as if he’s kissing you like he needs you to breathe.
Reaching down you take his already hardened length in your hand. You can’t lie, you're a little ache between your legs from your wedding night that you don’t fully remember. The size of him alone in your hand, you know it’s gonna take a little while for your body to adjust to him.
His nose rests against yours. A low moan passes his lips as you stroke his velvety length.
“How do you like this?”
“Focus on the head.” He groans.
His hand dips down and he starts playing with your clit, before dipping two fingers into your wet core. “Fuck—“ He moans.
“Cheol—“
“I need to get a condom.” He pulls his hands away from you.
Reaching for his hand you stop him from leaving the shower. The idea of feeling him raw right now turns you on even more..
“I’m on birth control.”
He looks at you with a surprised look playing across his face. “Are you sure?”
“I’m clean. It’s been a year since I’ve had sex with anyone other than my own hand or my vibrator.” That’s definitely embarrassing to admit, but if anyone should know this information it should be your husband.
“I’m clean too. I haven’t had sex in like three months.”
“If you want we can go bare.”
“Where do you want me to finish?”
You let out a little chuckle at this question. “Inside?”
“Okay.” He steps towards you again. “Can you turn around baby?”
Your hands are placed on the cold tile, you arched your back. Looking over your shoulder you watch as he pumps his large length. “We’ll go slow. You said our first time I’m in your words, fucking massive.”
“I trust you to take care of me.”
True to his word he ever so slowly pushed into you. As he bottomed out he gave you time to adjust. His hand gently rubbed your back helping you to relax. The stretching feeling slowly starts to dissipate into a feeling of pleasure.
“You can move. Can you play with my clit while you do?”
“Of course.”
His thrusts are slow but deep. He’s hitting places inside of you, you aren’t quite sure another man has ever reached. Reaching around his fingers rub your clit. Pushing your hips back, you meet his thrust. One of his hands grips your hip tightly,leaving finger print shaped bruises in his wake. With each drag of his cock he seems to brush a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.
“Cheol—“ His name comes out as a broken moan.
“Such a good girl.” You could get used to him speaking to you like that. You’ve never been one for dirty talk or pet names, but with him you can’t seem to get enough of it.
“So big.”
“You’re so tight, it’s like you were made for me.”
Pushing your hips back harder, you’re chasing your release that is getting closer and closer. Squeezing your eyes closed you concentrate on the filling of his hands on your clit.
The dam breaks as a white hot wave hits you. A slur of curse words and his name pour from your lips. Your walls contract around his massive length. Your arms start to give out as you start to fall forward. Without even thinking he grabs your hips keeping you from falling.
“Baby, I’m close.” His thrusts are sloppy as he holds you up. He slams your butt against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim, painting your walls with his milky release.
“Can you put your hands back on the wall?”
Even in your dazed state you listen to his request. Your hands are on the cold title wall holding yourself up.
Slowly he pulls out of you, watching as his cum slowly leaks out. He never necessarily had a creampie kink, but seeing you like this might have changed something inside of him. He’s not sure if he could ever wear a condom with you again, after seeing you like this.
“Fuck that was good.” You mumble resting your cheek against the shower wall.
“I need to clean you up.” He reaches for an unused washcloth hanging on the wall.
After an intense round of shower sex, Seungcheol takes his time washing your body, and washing your hair. Once the water is off he even dries you off before wrapping you in an expensive white fluffy robe.
Seungcheol ordered room service. They quickly brought up coffee and pastries.
Thank god you’re sitting in bed wrapped up in a robe and not still naked. The door opens and Jeonghan barges in. Seungcheol doesn’t seem fazed that he’s practically naked wearing only a towel resting low on his hips.
“Soonyoung said you didn’t come back to the room. I had a feeling this is where I would find you.” The grin Jeonghan is wearing is enough of a sign that he’s enjoying this.
“Jeonghan, why are you here?” Seungcheol turns around and starts going through his suitcase.
“I’m making sure you’re both alive and well. Soonyoung was a little concerned about where his roommate ended up sleeping.”
“Well, you found us and were alive. You and the boys do whatever you want today. I’m going to spend the day with Pinky and go shopping.”
“Dude it’s your birthday, don’t you want to have a birthday dinner?”
He looks over at you. He’s trying to figure out if you want to go to dinner with all the boys. “Sure. Can you book us a reservation in the private room at the sushi place downstairs?”
“Sure.” Jeonghan looks over at you giving you a knowing glance.
“Have fun, lovebirds,” he practically sings walking out.
After finally getting rid of Jeonghan, Seungcheol takes you to your room to get ready. Luckily Soonyoung is nowhere to be seen. You weren’t ready to face any of the other boys quite yet. Dressed in a sundress and a pair of sandals he takes you down to the lobby where he has a car waiting for you.
He’s made the decision to go shopping for rings before eating lunch. Arriving at the Bellagio hotel, he takes you by the hand leading you straight to Tiffany and Co. You quite literally can’t afford anywhere like this before in your life.
The moment you enter the store a sales associate walks up and asks if you need any help.
“We’re here for an engagement ring, and wedding bands for each of us.”
You can’t even say anything. You're just shocked this is even real. Everything in this room is absolutely out of your budget.
You’re immediately led off to a private room. Silently you sit there next to Seungcheol as a bunch of rings are placed in front of you.
“Any specific shape in mind?” The sales lady asked.
“No.” When you dreamed about getting married as a teen you never got to the point of imagining a wedding ring.
“Baby, don’t worry about the price. Just pick what you think is perfect for you.” Seungcheol whispers in your ear.
“Are you getting married soon?” She asked.
“We’re actually already married but I want her to have a proper engagement and wedding ring.”
The amount of sparkling diamonds on the tray in front of you, is worth probably more than you will ever make in your lifetime. Your eyes are instantly drawn to a beautiful teardrop shaped diamond. It’s on the smaller side which is perfect for you.
Picking it up, you slide it on your finger. Instantly you know, this is the ring. Glancing over at Seungcheol you find him intently watching you. “Do you think that’s the one, baby?” Him calling you baby still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.
“If it’s not too much, yes.”
“We’ll take that one, and can we see the wedding bands for her and myself.”
Within moments all the engagement rings are gone and instantly a sea of wedding bands are in front of both of you. Your eyes flash over to a v shaped diamond encrusted ring that would match your tear dropped shaped ring perfectly. Without even thinking you point, the one that caught your eye.
Seungcheol picks it up and slides it onto your finger. He grabs the engagement rings and puts them on with it. Instantly something tells you that this is your ring.
“I think I just watched you light up at the sight of these.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“We’ll take these two.” He says before you can even protest.
“Seungcheol, how much are those?
“I told you it doesn’t matter. You’re my wife and I want to spoil you.”
Seungcheol picks a beautiful platinum wedding band with diamonds scattered around it. When it’s time to check out, you try your hardest not to see the total, but unfortunately you see the total is close to thirty thousand and you instantly feel sick. The idea of him dropping that much money instantly is insane.
Luckily your wedding ring set you picked is perfectly your size. Seungcheol wastes no time putting it on your finger.
After ring shopping he takes you out to brunch at a beautiful restaurant. He’s talking to you all about a business trip coming up and asking if you would be interested in traveling with him for now on. How are you supposed to say no to something like this?
“Cheol, I was thinking maybe we should wait until we tell the boys all about our marriage? and hold off on wearing our rings. I was thinking maybe telling them and Wonwoo all together.” You don’t want one of the boys telling Wonwoo. This is definitely something you should tell him.
“If that’s what you want to do. Would you like me to keep your rings safe until then?”
“Yes please. Maybe tonight I should sleep in my room with Soonyoung so the boys don’t push too much.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I’m saying this now, on the flight home you’re riding next to me. Mingyu can sit with Soonyoung.”
“Okay.”
Seungcheol's entire birthday was spent with you. After lunch you went shopping, where he not only bought himself some clothes, but he also had no issues pulling out his fancy black card to buy you a dress he thought would look beautiful on you.
Heading back to your own hotel room you find Soonyoung getting ready.
“Well, well, well. Look at who finally decided to show up.” He teases you, grabbing his belt off the bed.
“Sorry I was a little preoccupied.”
“Preoccupied by Cheol’s dick?”
Soonyoung has never been one to sugar coat things with you.
“I’m not kissing and telling.”
“I’ve heard he’s pretty big. I’m shocked you’re still walking.”
“Soonyoung, shut up.” You grab a decorative pillow and throw it at him. He quickly dodges it and gives you a huge smile.
“Damn you’re feisty. I thought getting some good dick would make you chill out.”
Oh if only he knew what getting ‘good dick’ had led to.
“I’m going to change my shoes and then we should head downstairs.”
Arriving at the restaurant you show up just as Seungcheol arrives with Jeonghan and Joshua. Minghao and Mingyu arrive shortly after. This sushi restaurant is absolutely gorgeous.
The host leads you back to a private room where you have a private chef. There aren’t any food menus passed around, only a cocktail menu. The chef starts making omakase style sushi for the group.
This is the nicest sushi dinner you have ever had. The boys are having a great time, each with a ton of delicious sushi and drinking. Jeonghan ran off to the bar and paid for a huge bottle of sake. He comes back into the room and starts pouring liquor straight into everyone's mouth.
You’re sitting across from Seungcheol watching him have a great time. Seeing him happy instantly makes you happy.
The moment the check comes, Seungcheol pulls out his black card before anyone could argue. Before the waiter could get out of the room Jeonghan rushes up and swaps the cards.
Jeonghan hands the card back to Seungcheol. “You pay me too much to do my job. This is the least I could do for my best friend.”
The two of them have been best friends since freshman year of college when they were roommates. Jeonghan was there every step of the way of Seungcheol creating his company. It was inevitable that Jeonghan would work for him and make bank alongside him.
The night comes to a close and the group is heading off to the elevators. You and Seungcheol are walking in the back of the pack. He keeps intentionally bumping you, and giving you knowing looks.
He gives you a quick kiss before anyone can see. The way he’s looking at you, gives you butterflies.
Parting ways everyone to head off to their own room, you head off with Soonyoung. You’re getting ready to shower before you get a text.
from cheol 🍒: Goodnight baby
from wifey 💕: Goodnight my husband 💗
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The last four days after returning home have been an absolute whirlwind. Seungcheol immediately hired people to pack up your things and move you into your now shared penthouse.
As soon as you returned home you had to take a trip to Seungcheol’s bank, so you could be added onto all his accounts. Reluctantly you took all the fancy debit and credit cards he gave you.
This whole situation doesn’t feel real. According to Seungcheol, the black card that is now in your name can be used for anything you want.
Today is the first day things feel slightly normal. You’ve been working all day on a freelance assignment you were able to get. Seungcheol has been at the office all afternoon. You don’t expect him home until just before the boys are coming over for game night. It’s going to take some getting used to living in this huge penthouse.
The door opens and Seungcheol walks in carrying too many designer shopping bags. You instantly know he went on a shopping spree for you.
“Cheol, what did you get?” You close your laptop and look at your husband.
“I got you some new clothes, a purse that I saw because it made me think of you. Some things that are more selfishly for me.”
“What did you get for yourself?” He sets one of the bags on the counter and pulls out some very expensive looking lingerie. You can’t help but smile. “So you saw that and thought of me?”
“Yes. There is also a pretty dress I got for you to wear tonight.”
Something deep down inside of you told you, telling Wonwoo wasn’t going to be easy. Having this game night with the intention of telling the boys about your marriage suddenly feels tacky and wrong.
-
Dressed in a beautiful flowy yellow dress Seungcheol bought you as a gift. You should feel beautiful and happy, but you aren’t. You’re anxious and feel nauseous. It feels weird that Seungcheol had no issue dropping all this money on a designer dress and shoes for you to wear tonight.
Taking a deep breath you walk out of the bathroom and find Seungcheol standing in front of the mirror fixing up his hair. He looks so handsome.
“You look gorgeous.” He says the moment his eyes lock on you through the mirror.
“Thank you for the dress.”
Turning around he steps towards you. His dark eyes slowly travel up and down your body. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. “We need to go shopping and get you more dresses like this. You look absolutely breathtaking.”
“You’re just saying that because it makes my boobs look big.” The moment you put this dress on you saw how crazy it made your chest look.
“That's just a bonus, but you look absolutely beautiful.”
He reaches out holding your hand. “If you want to keep our marriage on the down low we can.”
This isn’t a secret you can keep to yourself. You don’t want to lie to your friends about what is going on between you and Seungcheol. If you agreed to stay married that definitely means everyone should know you’re married.
“You and I both know you are going to call me your wife and confuse people sooner rather than later.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You rarely call me Pinky anymore. You seem to be quite fond of baby and your wife.”
The boys start showing up one by one. Wonwoo comes over pretty early on. You’re chatting in the kitchen together. He’s drinking a beer, while you’re sipping on a glass of wine. Wonwoo is telling you about his work trip. He asked about the Vegas trip. You dance around telling him about what has unfolded between you and Seungcheol.
“How drunk did everyone get it?”
“I don’t even remember everything from Cheol‘s party at the club.”
You don’t think you have ever gotten that drunk in your life. Even at crazy college parties, you never got nearly that drunk.
“Damn. I missed black out drunk Pinky?” Wonwoo lets out a laugh.
“I would prefer I never black out again.”
“I don’t blame you. I wish I could have gone. You all seemed like you had an amazing trip.”
“Wonwoo and Pinky get in here.” Soonyoung yells from the living room.
Game night is already as chaotic as it tends to be. It’s not a game night if Jeonghan isn’t trying to find a way to cheat. Him and Joshua are being absolute menaces like they normally are together. You’re sitting on the couch next to Seungcheol.
Jeonghan is attempting to cheat to win.
“Pinky, you’re just jealous you’re losing like always.”
You know Jeonghan is joking, he’s always loved to tease you. The problem is you can feel how annoyed Seungcheol is.
“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way.” The moment the word wife leaves his mouth it feels as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.
“Whoa wait, what?” Jeonghan looks extremely confused, along with the rest of the room.
Suddenly the room goes dead silent for what feels like a lifetime. Seungcheol stares at you with wide eyes. Looking past your husband you see Wonwoo standing next to Joshua. The look of confusion on his face morphs into hurt.
“You guys actually got married?”’Jeonghan asked the question clearly the whole room wanted to ask.
“Yeah we got married. We’re fully together now.” Seungcheol says. You’re left sitting there silently in shock.
“We thought you two just got drunk and fucked.” Soonyoung chimes in.
Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung and then walks off towards the kitchen. This is not how you wanted him to find out. Hell this isn’t how you wanted any of them to find out.
“We got married.” Seungcheol squeezes your hand.
“Did you move in here?” Joshua asked.
“Yeah, she moved in.”
“What about your lease?” Joshua is asking the same questions you asked.
“It’s over in four months and Seungcheol is helping me with it.”
Jeonghan barks out a laugh. “You two are actually insane, but for some reason I think this is a good idea.”
Stepping away from Seungcheol, he releases your hand. Walking away from everyone, you head off to the kitchen where you find Wonwoo leaning against the counter.
“Wonwoo—“
“What were you thinking? Pinky you’re smarter than this.”
“We were drunk and it just happened.”
Taking his glasses off he rubs his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “Are you guys going to get this annulled?" He puts his glasses back on.
“No, we're going to stay married.”
The look on his face isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before. He’s never looked this sad or disappointed when he’s with you. “You’re insane, you can’t think this is a good idea. You’ve never even dated each other and now suddenly you’re married.”
Wonwoo is bringing to the surface all the little insecurities you’ve had about being married suddenly.
“I know it’s crazy, but I think this is a good idea. Seungcheol has liked me for a while, and I can’t lie, I've had feelings for him.”
He barks out a laugh. “That’s fucking fantastic. I’m so glad you talked about your feelings. Maybe try dating before just jumping into being married.”
That hurt so much more than you thought it would. Wonwoo’s reaction is worse than you could have imagined.
“Wonwoo, you’re being mean.”
“No, I’m being real. You and Cheol are in some honeymoon lalaland and not realizing this is absolutely insane.”
“We talked about this and we think it’s a good idea.”
The shame that takes over you, knowing that one reason Seungcheol wants to be married to you is so he can support and take care of you.
“I can’t stand here and lie to you, and say this is a good idea.” He pushes himself off the counter. “I’m going to head out.”
“You’re really just going to leave?” Tears brim your eyes as you try your hardest not to cry.
“Yes.”
“Wonwoo why are you acting like this?”
“Because if I would have gone on this trip, none of this would have happened.”
The feeling of an ice cold bucket of water being dumped on you makes the room fall dead silent. Wonwoo stands there looking defeated and tears are now sliding down your cheeks.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s fine, I should leave.” Without saying another word Wonwoo walks out of your new home. He doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, he just leaves. The worst part of it all, is now you’re both hurt and you’re not quite sure you can ever fix things between you.
The tears don’t stop falling. How are you supposed to just walk back out there where all your friends are and act like nothing happened. Leaning against the counter you push away your tears.
Looking up you find Seungcheol walking towards you. “Baby what happened?” He rested his hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
“Wonwoo said we’re crazy and said we should annul this.” Closing your eyes you try and stop the tears from falling.
“We might be crazy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting this, from wanting you.”
“I want this.” You lean up towards him. He leans in, resting his nose against yours. “I want you.”
“Don’t let Wonwoo upset you. He’ll come around.”
“I need to stop crying. I don’t need the boys knowing about my fight with Wonwoo.”
He leans in pressing his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “Mingyu left to go talk to him. He kind of stormed out, but none of the boys will judge you. Just go back out there and act like nothing happened.”
Seungcheol was right, walking back to the living room the remaining boys acted like nothing happened. Soonyoung is more interested in seeing your very expensive ring that Seungcheol bought you in Vegas.
“I can’t believe you were just sharing a room with me pretending you weren’t married.”
“Cut me some slack, we were trying to navigate this.”
Soonyoung nudges your shoulder. “I thought you had seemed happier since the club that night. Now it makes sense. Clearly our beloved Cheol is treating you right in more ways than one.” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively.
“Soonyoung—“
“Fine, don't have to talk about it. But I want you to know if being married to Seungcheol makes you happy, I fully support you guys.”
The night comes to a close and the boys head out leaving you alone with your husband. Seungcheol finds you in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine. That conversation with Wonwoo was so much harder than you expected it to be.
Seungcheol comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach. He rested his head on your shoulder. “Baby—”
“Cheol?”
“How about we take a bath together and then let me take care of you.”
“Okay.”
Seungcheol en-suite bathroom is double the size of yours in your small one bedroom apartment. There is a standalone large shower, and bathtub that can comfortably fit two people. The bath is filled with vanilla scented water and lots of bubbles. Seungcheol is sitting with his back against the edge and you’re lounging between his legs.
Silently you play with the bubbles in front of you. Seungcheol is focused on you. He can tell how upset you are. He knows your conversation with Wonwoo hurt your feelings. Anyone who knows you, knows how close you and Wonwoo are. He’s pretty sure you and Wonwoo have never even had an argument.
“I like you so much.” He says capturing your attention. His hand rests on your soft stomach, kneading the flesh. His hand dips lower, his finger dips between your folds. Slowly his finger starts toying with your sensitive clit. “Relax and let me take care of you.”
It’s only been a week and somehow Seungcheol knows all the right places to touch to make you fall apart instantly.
Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Rolling your head back against his shoulder, you moan loudly. “You’re so good for me.” He whispered against your ear. “Let’s get you out of here and move this to our bed.”
Seungcheol referring to things in his home as yours still feels strange.
Laying on the bed with a sea of expensive high thread cotton sheets surrounding you. Your legs are spread. Your husband is sitting on his knees slowly thrusting into you over and over again.
“You feel so good.” He moans.
His hand rests on your mound. His thumb is rubbing circles on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
When you’re like this with Seungcheol nothing else seems to matter. You aren’t thinking about your fight with Wonwoo. You aren’t thinking about money. The only thing you can think about is how he’s making you feel.
His pace is slow and deep. Your body is learning to adapt to the sheer size of your husband’s cock.
The closer you get to your orgasm washing over you, the closer you want him. Your reach for him. All you can do is moan his name. Instantly he knows what you want. His body hovers over you, caging you in. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. Rolling his hips into you, his pelvis keeps brushing your clit, pushing you closer and closer.
The moment the knot in your stomach snaps you find your release moaning his name like a prayer. His own release follows. Echoing sounds of low moans and broken words pass his lips. He fills you to the brim and stills hovering over you. He doesn’t move, he just leans down and kisses you repeatedly.
“I’m so happy you’re my wife.” He said against your lips.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It’s been three weeks since you last saw Wonwoo. Every time you contemplate texting him and asking him to talk, you end up chickening out.
During this time you have been trying so hard to get used to your new life. Luckily you were finally able to secure a few new writing jobs. Things in your professional life finally seem to be going in the right direction.
Your week days are filled with hanging out in the kitchen in your makeshift office, while Seungcheol goes into work.
Things with your new married life are taking a little bit to get used to. You aren’t quite sure you’ll ever be able to properly comprehend how much money Seungcheol truly makes. The amount of money Seungcheol has no issue dropping on you is absolutely absurd. This whole sharing his bank account situation is still rubbing you the wrong way.
Standing in the grocery store you’re pushing the cart listening to Soonyoung tell you all about his date. After one single date he’s basically already in love with this girl.
At the check out you watch the total slowly go up. Without even thinking you go to grab your own credit card. One that’s for an account not attached to your husband’s.
Before you can tap your card you see Soonyoung give you a look. “Why aren’t you using his credit card?”
“I can pay for myself.”
“I know you can, but you aren’t just buying groceries for yourself now. They’re for him too, and he’s going to be pissed if he realizes you spent your own personal money on him.”
Rolling your eyes, you grab the black metal card Seungcheol gave you. “I hate this. This whole thing makes me feel like he’s my sugar daddy.”
“Pinky, he can’t be your sugar daddy when he’s literally your husband. He wants to support his wife. It’s his job. For the love of god, just let him spend money on you.”
After grocery shopping with Soonyoung you head home and put everything away. The whole time you’re alone with your thoughts you think about reaching out to Wonwoo. It’s eating away at you, that your friendship might be over because of your marriage. Even though you miss Wonwoo, you can’t bring yourself to give up your marriage to make him happy.
Another thing that can’t seem to leave your mind is the whole spending Seungcheol money situation. It doesn’t leave your mind the entire day.
After a long day at work Seungcheol asked if you would go out to dinner with him. Sitting in another expensive restaurant, you look at the menu, your eyes about bulge out of your head at the prices. Looking up at Seungcheol he’s scrolling through his phone.
“Cheol, this place is expensive.”
“It's fine, just order whatever you want.”
The waitress comes back around. Seungcheol orders a bottle of wine and an expensive steak. She turns to you.
“I’ll take the house salad.”
“Is that all?” She takes the menu from your hands.
“Yes.”
Seungcheol hands over his menu and tilts his head at you. “Why did you only order an appetizer salad?”
“I’m not that hungry.”
“Baby, I told you money isn’t an issue.”
“I’m aware, but to me this place is too expensive.”
He opens his mouth to speak and instantly closes it. There is a long beat of silence as you just stare at each other.
“How was work?” You’re trying your hardest to change the subject.
“It was fine. Some clients came in and I had Jeonghan and Mingyu handle it. I was thinking about taking some time off, so we could celebrate being married just the two of us.”
“How long?”
“Maybe a week.”
The waitress comes over with a bottle of wine and silently pours each of you a glass.
“Before you go, can my wife please order the salmon risotto?”
You go to open your mouth and he sends you a look basically letting you know not to complain.
Reaching for the glass of wine, you bite your tongue. You want to tell him to stop spending money on you, but you know this is a fight.
The rest of dinner is quiet. You don’t complain about the money, just sit there making small talk with him. The moment the check comes you blankly stare at the table. You don’t want to know how much the bill is. You know the sound of his metal black card hitting the check book.
He stands up and takes your hand leading you out towards the valet. Seungcheol can tell something is wrong. You might not have been married very long, but you’ve been friends for over a decade. He knows how to read you like an open book. He’s well aware he’s upset you.
Arriving home the elevator ride is just as quiet as the car ride home. Seungcheol knows you need to talk before going to bed.
He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water while you head off to the bedroom. Walking back into the bedroom he finds you putting on your pajamas.
“Pinky?”
“Yes?” You turn to face him.
“If you’re going to yell at me, can you please do it now?”
A heavy sigh passes your lips. Sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cheol I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to yell at you. I wish you would realize how jarring all of this is for me.” He stands in front of you and silently listens to what you have to say. “I went from struggling to get writing jobs and living from paycheck to paycheck to this. It’s insane you have no problem dropping thousands on me. I’m not used to this luxury lifestyle you live.”
“I make so much money, I’m happy I finally have someone to spend it on.”
“That’s nice, but this whole lifestyle doesn’t feel real to me. It makes me uncomfortable just throwing your card around like it’s nothing. I want you to be my husband, not my sugar daddy.”
“I’ll try and tone it down. Just understand that occasionally I’m going to want to spoil you.”
“We need to find a middle ground.”
“I’ll try to calm down with the money.” He stepped closer to you. Putting his hand under your chin he tilts your head up. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip. “I don’t want to upset you. My goal as your husband is to support you emotionally and to make you happy.”
“You do make me happy. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.”
“I do.”
Leaning down he presses his lips to yours. You honestly don’t want to fight with him. This conversation could change a lot of things. You hope that he truly understands.
A few days passed and Seungcheol decided to take a week off of work to spend time as a properly married couple. On the first day he asked if you wanted to take a vacation somewhere and you immediately shut that down.
You’re on day three and after taking a trip to the museum and getting lunch, you’re laying on the couch together watching a movie. He just placed an order for your favorite Thai food place.
He’s laying on his back with you resting between his legs. “How do you feel about eventually having a proper wedding?”
You’ve definitely thought about this a few times.
“I’m not opposed to it.”
“It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. I would like to properly marry you in front of our friends and families.”
You want to stay married but it oddly feels too soon to be thinking about this. “Maybe we should wait a little while to plan this.”
“Okay.” He’s a little sad you clearly don't want to do this now, but he’s trying to be understanding.
“When do we have a proper wedding can it not be super expensive?”
“It can be whatever you want it to be. You can have full reign planning it.” He doesn’t care how his wedding looks as long as you’re the one walking down the aisle towards him. He pined after you for years. All he cares about is you’re finally his.
“Is Soonyoung going to be your man of honor?”
You’ve known Soonyoung since you were sixteen. He’s been your best friend ever since. It would be weird if he wasn’t your man of honor.
“Yes. Is your best man Jeonghan?” You lace your fingers with his. Gently squeezing his hand.
“I think he would kill me in my sleep if I picked someone else.”
“He would make me a widow if you hurt his feelings like that.”
“I have to make sure I don’t die on you.” He brings your hands up to his lips and presses a kiss to the top of your hand. “I’m enjoying being home and getting to spend time with you.”
“This has been nice.” You’ve known Seungcheol for a decade, but this feels like you’re getting to know each other on a romantic and more intimate level.
Soon your take out arrives and you spend the evening eating dinner and enjoying each other's company. As night falls you’re tangled up in your sheets. Laying on your stomach with a pillow under your hips. Seungcheol is on his knees straddling your legs. He pushes his hips into yours at a slow and deep pace. This angle has his hitting spots inside of you that have never been reached.
Your fingers grip the sheet. Closing your eyes you moan his name. He’s stretching you out in the best way possible. Leaning down he presses a trail of open mouth kisses across your spine.
“Fuck—“
“You feel so good.” He moans.
Lifting your hips, you push them back slightly to meet his thrust. Sex with your husband is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.
“Baby.” His moans are intoxicating.
“I’m— cl-close.” He’s practically made you a rambling mess.
“Cum for me.”
He picks up his pace helping both of you chase your highs. Squeezing your eyes closed your high washes over you like a white hot wave. He gets two more thrust in before he slams his lips into your butt hitting his own high. He feels you to the brim with his milky white release.
Pulling out of you, he watches intently as his release leaks out of you.
Jumping off the bed he cleans up the mess he made before crawling into bed with you. Pulling you close to him your head rests on his chest as he gently rubs your side. It’s not long before sleep finds both of you.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You’ve been married for two months and things are finally starting to feel normal. Seungcheol has chilled out after practically throwing money at you.
It’s been a long day for you. You lucked out and found a new writing job that pays well. You’ve spent all day trying to finish as much as possible whileSeungcheol’s been at the office all day. The moment he gets home he immediately finds you in your bedroom working on writing. You’ve made yourself cozy on the bed with your lap desk and a cup of tea.
“Jeonghan is hosting a game night tonight.” He says walking across the bedroom towards you.
You close your laptop, setting it on your nightstand. “Is everyone going to be there?” It’s been a while since your whole friend group has hung out. Things have been a little office since everyone found out about your marriage.
“That’s what I’m being told.”
“Does that include Wonwoo?”
He leans against the dresser and lets out a heavy sigh. He knows that this whole Wonwoo situation is eating away at you. He’s never liked seeing you sad, and knowing that you’re hurt right now makes him want to fix this.
“Probably not.”
“It’s safe to say I ruined our friend group.”
“You didn’t ruin the friend group. You aren’t the only one who is to blame here. He’s not just upset with you.”
“I hate this.”
“Pinky, can I ask you something?” He has a feeling he already knows the answer to this, but it’s going to eat away at him if he doesn’t ask you.
“Yeah?”
“I know Wonwoo liked you, but did you also like him?” His question caught you off guard. What the hell did he mean? Wonwoo liked you too?
“At one point I’m pretty sure I was in love with him, it was one-sided though.” This is the first time you’re admitting out loud you were in love with Wonwoo.
The look on Seungcheol's face hurts. His normal bright eyes have sadness behind him. “Pinky—“ He thought everyone knew Wonwoo was in love with you. “Wonwoo liked you.”
You’re giving him a look he can’t even explain. You look like he just told you the worst news possible. “Oh—“
“It seems half the group knew about your feelings and the other half knew about his. Maybe that’s why so many people were confused about us getting together.”
“Wonwoo liked me?” Suddenly it feels like the glass floor below you shattered. How on earth did you not realize that he liked you back.
“Yeah.”
“ I just feel so confused. I thought when I was in love with him it was one-sided.” Your eyes brim with tears.
“I’m sorry—“ He whispers, watching as your tears slide down your cheek.
“I think I should go.” You push yourself off the bed.
“Pinky—“
“Cheol, I’m confused and I need space.” Walking off to the closet, grab the closest duffle bag you can find.
Closing his eyes he tries his hardest not to cry. Walking over to the bed he sits there silently watching you pack a bag to leave him. Everything is suddenly crumbling and he doesn't know what to say or do to fix it.
When your bag is finally packed you don’t kiss him goodbye. He follows you to the front door. Before you can leave he grabs your hand.
“I’m begging you not to give up on us. I know this is confusing and I’m sorry about everything. Just please give us a chance.”
“I’m going to stay with either Soonyoung or Joshua.” Those are the last words out of your mouth before you walk out of the door.
Game night is essentially canceled. Soonyoung and Joshua rush to meet up with you, so you aren’t alone.
Jeonghan, Minghao, and Mingyu go to the bar with a very upset Seungcheol. The only way he’ll get through the night is if he drinks enough to forget. He knew when you found out about Wonwoo you might take it badly, but he didn’t expect for you to confess you were basically in love with Wonwoo before you got married.
Sitting on Soonyoung’s couch you cry your eyes out telling the boys about what happened. You embarrassingly cry about your missed connection with Wonwoo.
Your mind can’t seem to let go of the thought that you could have been with Wonwoo. You told yourself over a year ago you got over him. You finally moved on and weren’t in love anymore. Why did Seungcheol admitting Wonwoo returned feelings suddenly break your heart? Things with Seungcheol are good, why are you questioning if you should stay married?
Soonyoung holds you close as you cry. “Pinky, I think you should stay here. You and Seungcheol can work this out. But I think you need to figure out what you feel for Wonwoo.”
“Soonyoung is right, I think you need to navigate your feelings for Wonwoo. From what you have said, you were in love with him. Cheol basically gave you emotional whiplash confirming Wonwoo had feelings for you.”
Week one, it feels like a breakup. You find yourself trapped in Soonyoung's guest room at your own volition. You've cried on and off for days. You only leave the room when Soonyoung or Joshua drags you out.
Seungcheol isn't fairing much better. He's found himself at the bottom of a bottle, attempting to drink away his pain. He feels guilty for how everything unfolded between you.
Week three, you're back to working nonstop on writing assignments. You've just thrown yourself into work. You're back to living paycheck to paycheck. You've offered to pay Soonyoung rent for taking up his guest room, but every time he refuses to take any of your money.
This week Seungcheol stopped by Soonyoung's studio to attempt to check on you.
"Cheol why are you here?"
Soonyoung wasn't expecting to see him. Since your "break up" or more so "break" the friend group has been in a state of disarray. Things have seemed to split between everyone. Wonwoo is only speaking to Mingyu. Seungcheol is only seeing Mingyu, Minghao and Jeonghan. You're living with Soonyoung and only seeing him and Joshua. Everyone is aware Jeonghan and Joshua are still seeing each other. The only details Seungcheol has received regarding about you are the things Jeonghan has shared.
"I'm here to see how my wife is doing." Seungcheol sounds like a broken man. He's experienced heartbreak before, but this feels so different.
"Cheol, she's clearly hurt and confused." Soonyoung has done and will do anything to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from the man you've fallen in love with.
"I hate this." Seungcheol sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.
"Do you think I like this? She's miserable, and clearly you're miserable."
"How is work going for her?" He knows you've gone back to picking up a ton of writing jobs. He's also very aware you haven't been using any of his cards he's given you. He hates that you're going to be struggling to get by again.
"She's always working. She's always on her laptop writing." Soonyoung knows he needs to let Seungcheol know at least some of what is going on with you.
"Are you charging her for rent?"
Soonyoung barks out a bitter laugh. "Fuck you, Cheol. You know I would never ask her for money."
Seungcheol looks down feeling ashamed he even asked. This whole situation is a mess, things feel so tense between him and Soonyoung now. "I'm sorry I asked. I came here to offer you money for taking her in."
Soonyoung rolls his eyes. "Dude she's not a burden. She's fine, she can stay with me as long as she wants."
"God, I just want her back." Seungcheol sighs.
"Yeah, I know Cheol. You just need to give her space. She'll come back to you when she's ready.”
“What if she's never ready?"
"She will be. So give her space."
A month and half in, you still can't kick the aching feeling in your chest. Joshua finally convinced you to have a movie night with him and Soonyoung. You're caught off guard when you find Jeonghan standing in Joshua's kitchen.
"Pinky." Jeonghan smiles the moment he sees you.
"Hannie." Your eyes brim with tears instantly. You've missed him so much.
Jeonghan steps closer to you and pulls you into a hug. You haven’t been seeing all the boys, but you know you've probably destroyed the whole friend group.
Jeonghan releases you and kisses your forehead. "I was tired of you avoiding me. I had to force Shua to let me crash your movie night."
Reaching up you push away your tears that have fallen.
"Pinky, why are you crying?"
"I miss you. I miss what our friend group used to be. I miss—" you want to say your husband's name desperately. You've missed him nonstop since the moment you walked out of your home you had shared.
"We miss you too." He reaches down, brushing away your tears. "He misses you like crazy. He asks me every day if I have heard from you."
Hearing Jeonghan mention Seungcheol makes your chest squeeze. "I miss him too. I'm just still confused."
"That's okay, Pinky."
"Can you tell him I say hi?"
"Of course."
Two months in Seungcheol has reached his breaking point. He's aware his marriage might be over, but even if it is, he wants you to fix things with Wonwoo.
Swallowing his pride he goes to see Wonwoo. He hasn't seen Wonwoo in four months, since that night everyone found out about your marriage. Wonwoo and Mingyu have lived together since college. Mingyu was kind enough to let him know Wonwoo is home.
Knocking on the front door he holds his breath waiting. The door opens, and Wonwoo stares at him looking confused.
"Why are you here?" Wonwoo finally speaks.
"I'm assuming you know Pinky and I are on a break?"
Wonwoo holds the door open and steps aside for Seungcheol to walk in. He walks over and sits on the couch that's placed under the window. Seungcheol sits on the chair across from the couch.
"I know about your break. Mingyu let me know." Wonwoo is just as torn up about your friendship. He's devastated at how things unfolded between the two of you that night. He can still see the way you looked at him.
"That doesn't tell me why you're here Cheol."
"Did Mingyu tell you what happened between us?"
"Nope." He didn't ask any questions. He honestly didn't feel comfortable knowing what happened.
"Well I always knew you were in love with her, but I didn't realize she loved you."
Wonwoo's eyes go wide. He feels like he's been punched in the gut. "What?"
Seungcheol lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands up and down his face. "I didn't realize you both had feelings for each other and it's clear, Pinky has unresolved feelings for you."
"Cheol, I didn't know."
"I know. If I had known— even though I love her Wonwoo, I don't think I would have made a move on her. I thought you were the only one with feelings for her." His voice is shaky, and he sounds as if he's about to fall apart at any moment.
This whole situation is a god damn mess. "Cheol, she doesn't love me anymore. She wouldn't have married you if she did."
"I keep trying to tell myself that."
Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he sits them down on the couch next to him. He pinches his nose taking a deep breath. "What do you want from this conversation?"
Seungcheol isn't sure why he fully came here. To be honest he just wants you and Wonwoo to fix things between you in one way or another. If he loses you to Wonwoo, it might break his heart, but he'll be okay one day if he knows you're happy.
"I just want you back in Pinky's life. I don't care if she picks you, I just want you to be there for her."
Wonwoo leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. "You really love her don't you."
"Wonwoo, I love her so fucking much."
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The front door opens and you hear footsteps approaching. Looking up you find Wonwoo standing there. God you’ve missed seeing him.
He sat down at the table across from you. He paused for a moment. “Your husband came and talked to me. I think he’s right. We should talk. I’m sorry about how things ended last time we talked. ”
“What?” Closing your laptop you knit your brows at him.
“He told me that you’re torn up over not talking to me.”
It's been six months since you last saw him, and the sight of him sitting front of you makes you want to cry.
“Wonwoo, this whole thing is a mess.”
“He also told me that he informed you that I was basically in love with you.”
“I had no clue." There is a twisting feeling in your stomach.
“It’s okay, I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I always just assumed you were in love with Cheol.” It's clear you were oblivious to the affection both boys had for you.
“This whole situation is complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Wonwoo, my brain can’t process the fact I’m fucking married and now I’m finding out you were in love with me.”
“Did you still love me when you went to Vegas?” He asks calmly.
“No.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“Because what if we're supposed to be together?”
It’s the what ifs that are now eating you alive.
“But we aren’t, so why does it matter?”
“Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because you’re literally married, and it’s clear Seungcheol is in love with you. You might not want to admit it, but you love him now.” He reaches out, taking your hand.
“Wonwoo—“
“Do you actually want to be with me? Do you want to give up everything you’ve built with him?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what we used to feel.”
“I’m scared of what I have with him. The whole thing has felt like a whirlwind, and we haven’t done anything in the correct order.”
“Don’t be scared. If I didn’t think Seungcheol was good for you, I would have kept pushing for you to end your marriage.”
“It would have been so much easier if we dated first.”
“Then tell him you want to date, before you go back to acting like a married couple. Tell him you need space of your own.”
"Wonwoo."
"Yeah, Pinky?"
"I missed you so much." You can't help but cry.
Wonwoo stands up and walks over to you. He holds his hand out. You grab it as you stand up. Without even thinking you wrap your arms around him holding him close. You cry as he holds you. His large hand runs up and down your back, soothing you.
"Wonwoo how do I fix things with him?"
He pulls away a little. Before leaning anything he leans down and kisses your forehead. "I think it's time you go home to your husband."
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Soonyoung helps you pack up your stuff and Jeonghan offers to give you a ride to your home you share with Seungcheol. Pulling into the parking garage Jeonghan glances over at you. What if it's been too long and Seungcheol has decided he no longer wants you back.
"Pinky?"
"Huh?"
"Are you nervous?"
"Yeah, I broke his heart leaving. What if he's decided he doesn't want me back?"
Jeonghan reaches over unbuckling your seatbelt. "Don't be dumb Pinky, he clearly still wants you. He wouldn't have sent Wonwoo to you if he didn't."
Taking a deep breath you open the door. Jeonghan walks to the back and grabs your two duffle bags. He helps you carry your stuff into the elevator and walks down the hall to the door of the penthouse.
Standing at the door, you pause, it's been two months, should you knock or just walk in? Jeonghan doesn't let you get lost in your thoughts. He puts in the door code and walks in.
Seungcheol is standing in the kitchen when you enter.
"Cheol, I brought your wife back." Jeonghan can't help but smile.
You awkwardly wave, "hi, Cheol."
"Hi, baby." Him calling you baby instantly makes you smile. Jeonghan takes your back from you and heads off the master bedroom. You and Seungcheol don't say anything for a moment. It's almost as if you're both waiting for your time alone so you can talk.
Jeonghan comes back into the entry way. "I'm going to leave you guys alone. I'm going to go get dinner with Shua."
The front door locks and Seungcheol holds out his hand. Without even thinking you take his hand. He leads you off to the dining room. He pulls out a chair and you sit down. He sits down across from you. This all feels so weird.
You break the screaming silence that has formed between you. "Wonwoo came to see me."
"I know."
"He told me it shouldn't matter that we had a missed connection. I wasn't in love with him when we got married, and even if I'm afraid to admit it, I'm in love with you."
Seungcheol can't help but smile at the fact you're admitting you love him. "You love me?"
"Yeah I do, and because I love you, it shouldn't matter that I missed what could have been between me and Wonwoo."
Seungcheol reaches across the table and laces his fingers with yours. "Pinky, I love you, and I haven't stopped, even while you were gone."
"That's good, because I want to work on our marriage."
He squeezes your hand. "You wanna stay married?"
"Yeah I do."
He can't help it when his eyes brim with tears. When he sent Wonwoo to see you, he had given up all hope that things would stay the same with you two. "I missed you so much, baby."
"I missed you too."
Seungcheol stands up and you do the same. He walks over to you, and pulls you into his chest. Pulling back you look up at him. Without a second thought he crashes his lips into yours for a desperate kiss. He hasn't seen you in months and every part of his body and soul has craved you. He never wants to go even a day without talking to you.
Pulling away a little he smiles down at you. "I have a request."
"What's that baby?" He'll do anything you could possibly ask him to.
"We can still be married, but can we act like we're dating. I feel like we skipped so many steps and I want to experience what it's like to date you."
He gives you a big smile. "We can absolutely do that."
Ten months later you find yourself preparing to walk down the aisle for an official wedding with your husband. Things have gone back to normal with your friend group. This time when you're getting married all your family and friends are here.
Your bridal party consists of Soonyoung as your man of honor. The rest of your bridal party is a mix of Minghao's girlfriend, Joshua, and your cousin. Seungcheol's best man is obviously Jeonghan, he was very serious when he threatened to make you a widow when Seungcheol joked about picking someone else with him. His groomsmen are Mingyu, Minghao, and Wonwoo.
Wonwoo managed to sneak off and met up with you, Soonyoung and Joshua. All three boys doted on you telling you on and on about how beautiful you look.
Walking down the aisle you immediately cry at the sight of Seungcheol waiting for you. Your wedding is everything you've ever dreamed of. It's not some crazy lavish event, it's the perfect wedding for you. The one expensive Seungcheol fought you on, was paying for the dress of your dreams.
Your vows are perfect, Seungcheol lights up as he's told to kiss the bride. Your kiss is dramatic, he dips you, kissing you in a grand fashion. Friends and family cheer applauding.
The reception feels like a blur. It's the perfect party, Seungcheol made a big deal about multiple open bars, and having it in a big venue for all your friends and family to party.
The ceiling above the dance floor is draped in sparkling twinkle lights. The song you picked for your first dance plays. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as you sway to the beat of the music. There isn’t some grand choreo, it’s just the two of you lost in the moment in the middle of the dance floor. All eyes are on you, but the only thing you can focus on is Seungcheol.
"I love you," He says just loud enough for you to say.
"I love you too."
You might have had an untraditional start, but the only thing that matters is you ended up here.
NSFW 18+ MDNI + silly ending // WHAT IF you were wonwoo’s gf and almost got caught during NANA TOUR surprises…
'w-wonu--ngh,' you gasp voice half-moan, as he continues to guide your hips to grind on his cock. your hands are in his hair, tugging, trying to stay strong on top as you ride him.
it was 4 am but tired was beyond the opposite you both felt in this moment. it had been ages since you've been able to have sex during his busy schedule, and now each other's pleasure was all you could think of.
'fuck, you feel so good baby,' he murmurs, voice low as he moves his hands from your hips to your chest. his thick cock is stretching you wide, the wet slap of hips against your ass echo in the room as he fucks you roughly and needily. he's missed you so much.
you both don't hear the small knocks on the door until the lock beeps and clicks open.
your eyes fly open. wonwoo's glasses slide crookedly down his nose as he jolts. you look at each other — eyes wide, breath caught — and panic.
“shit shit shit,” you whisper, frantically scrambling off him and diving under the thick white covers. wonwoo yanks the blanket over you with one hand, rips off his glasses with the other, and dramatically flops back onto the bed, feigning deep sleep.
the door creaks open. and then, that dreaded voice.
"wonu-ah, it's time to go~!”
PD-nim.
you swear under the covers. of course it’s him. of course he brought the cameras. many sets of footsteps shuffle into the room — the loud ones definitely hoshi’s, the ones with fake whispering seungkwan and mingyu.
“you alive?” someone snickers.
“is he naked?”
“looks like he’s hiding something.”
wonwoo lets out a painfully awkward giggle, trying to stretch across the bed, his hand accidentally elbowing your side under the covers. you bite your lip to keep from squealing.
you squeeze your eyes shut under the blanket, holding your breath. the bed dips — someone’s sat down near your feet.
“room’s kinda warm,” mingyu says, fanning his shirt.
“thick blankets, probably,” vernon offers with a small shrug. “looks cozy though.”
“always is,” wonwoo says, rubbing his eyes. his voice is calm, casual — but there’s the tiniest hint of tension.
PD-nim chuckles from behind the camera. “you were sleeping well.”
“yeah, i guess i was really out,” wonwoo murmurs. “didn’t even hear the door.” seungkwan feels your ankle under him and he sighs, this guy..
there’s a small pause as the members glance between each other, reading the moment. it’s subtle — but they know.
still, they keep it moving, light and easy.
“hyung, no way your own magazines are next to your bed,” seungkwan jokes. everyone laughs and starts to plan what room to go to next.
they decide together to go to jun's room but wonwoo signals them to leave and he'll be right out behind them.
PD-nim pans one last shot of the room, then backs up. “alright~ we’re heading to the next room. don’t take too long!”
the door closes.
you don’t move until the footsteps have faded.
then a soft voice, right above the covers: “you okay?”
you peek your head out. wonwoo looks at you, glasses back on, face half amused and half horrified.
“that was... too close,” you whisper.
he nods, exhaling deeply. “they helped. did you notice?”
“not a single weird question. not even a glance,” you say. “but they knew.” he smiles, pulling you into his arms.
buzz
“let us know next time ㅋㅋㅋ"
a/n; hi my lovelies ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა finals are officially over!! im so happi and will be continuing my older!bf seventeen series.. sorry for the long wait but it is comingggg. also i was rewatching NANA tour and thought of this scenario so i wrote it in like 10 minutes lolol
2025 carat revival : dynamics week
'this road is beautiful, because I have you walking beside me'
no one loves seventeen more than seventeen loves each other🤍
content: soft obsession, domestic intimacy, established relationship
he takes pictures of you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
not in a loud way — wonwoo never is — but in this quiet, constant need to keep you.
his camera is always around his neck or slipping from his fingers, and you’re always, always the subject. your hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. your reflection on a window. the way your hair falls when you laugh without noticing. the way you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention.
he always is.
“don’t move,” he murmurs, lifting the camera, eyes soft behind the lens. click.
you roll your eyes, smiling anyway. “you already have, like, a thousand photos of me.”
“not enough,” he answers immediately. no hesitation. like it’s obvious.
and it is.
there’s one of you folded carefully inside his wallet, edges worn from how often he takes it out without realizing. another tucked into the corner of his bedside table, half-hidden behind a book — the first photo he ever took of you, blurry and imperfect, his favorite. his phone? a mess of you. candid shots, sleepy selfies, screenshots of video calls, tiny moments he refuses to delete.
his wallpaper changes sometimes. it’s always you.
when you catch him looking at his phone with that small, private smile, you already know why.
“you’re staring again,” you tease, climbing onto the bed beside him.
he locks the screen but doesn’t deny it. instead, he reaches for you, fingers hooking into your belt loop, pulling you closer until your knees bump his.
“you looked pretty today,” he says, voice low. sincere. devastating.
“i look pretty every day,” you reply, smug.
he nods. “that’s the problem.”
you laugh, leaning in to kiss him, slow and warm. he kisses you back like he’s memorizing the feeling, one hand still holding the camera, the other firm on your waist. when he pulls back, he lifts the lens again.
click.
“wonwoo—”
“just one more,” he murmurs, already smiling. “i like remembering you happy.”
later, when you’re asleep, he scrolls through the photos quietly, thumb gentle against the screen. his heart feels too full, chest tight in that way that only happens when love goes too deep.
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ➙ You call tech support expecting help, not butterflies. The guy on the other end has a voice that could fix ANY problem — except the one where you can’t stop calling just to hear him talk.
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ➙ Fluff, I.T.! Wonwoo x Not techy! Reader, Office Romance, Meet-cute, Strangers to lovers (real), Reader be a little obsessed with deep voices, 18+, Porn w/ Plot
𝐖𝐂 ➙ 9k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➙ MDNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, finger fucking (f. receiving), masturbation (f. doing with ‘somehow’ the help of other), public-risk intimacy (I’m so sorry..), grinding, protected sex, rough sex, neck grabs/choking, restraining hands, voice kink, mirror sex, coming untouched, body worship, dirty talk, praising, spanking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, hail your queen position, doggy style, pinning her, mentions of bar and alcohol, intoxicated sex, smoking, shotgun scene, aftercare
🎧 ➙ Kiss me thru the phone by Soulja Boy, Sammie ⋮ Shut up and listen by Nicholas Bonnin, Angelicca
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ Heyy, advance happy halloween (or happy halloween if it’s already that time in your zone)!! I’m not sure if I’ll be active tomorrow since I'll be out (guys have fun too😭) — but anyways!! thank you so much for all the love and support lately. I had so much fun doing kinktober this year. I hope you enjoy this one!! I also wanted to thank @svthub nothing I really am just happy to be part of it and everyone for being so welcoming and nice!!
navigation ✮ masterlist ✮ guidelines
“Welcome to the necessary weekly meeting!” Soonyoung announced dramatically, arms wide as you walked into Jihoon’s condo. Jihoon, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a laptop and a frown, didn’t even look up. “It’s literally just us hanging out because you two can’t function without supervision.”
“Exactly!” Soonyoung grinned, patting the seat beside him. “Necessary.” You dropped your bag on the couch, laptop under your arm, and sighed. “If this is a meeting, I’d like to file a complaint. My wi-fi’s been dead for three hours.”
Jihoon groaned. “Oh no.” Soonyoung perked up. “Don’t-” But you were already reaching for your phone. “I think I’ll just call-” “Don’t say it,” Jihoon warned.
“-tech support,” you finished innocently.
Soonyoung threw a pillow at you. “You don’t need tech support for everything! Last time your charger wasn’t even plugged in!” “It was plugged in,” you argued. “Just.. not all the way.” Jihoon muttered, “You’re single-handedly keeping that hotline employed.”
“They’re nice people!” You defended yourself, booting up your laptop. “Besides, they actually help instead of mocking me.” “Oh please,” Soonyoung teased, leaning closer. “Just say you have a voice fetish”
“I do not?!”
Jihoon snorted. “Your face says otherwise.” You huffed, glaring at both of them. “You’re just jealous because no one picks up when you call for help.” “Yeah, because we don’t break technology by existing,” Jihoon shot back.
The argument went in circles until Jihoon ordered takeout just to shut both of you up. When it arrived, everyone ended up sprawled in front of the TV, eating noodles and teasing each other between bites.
By the time you headed home, Soonyoung made you promise — hands clasped together dramatically — “Don’t. Call. Tech support. Tonight.” You rolled your eyes. “If you just helped me with my problem-” “I can’t help you, Y/N.. I have my own problems,” he said, feigning exhaustion. “You’re so dramatic.” “Just promise.”
“Ok.. ok jeez I promise not to call them.”
You did.
When you got home, your apartment felt unusually quiet. Too quiet. You dropped your keys, kicked off your shoes, and flopped onto your bed, staring at your laptop like it was your sworn enemy. The wi-fi symbol blinked mockingly at you. Still dead. You worked at Jihoon's. What's wrong with you?!
You tried everything: restarted, reconnected, even whispered, “Please work, I’m begging you,” like it owed you emotional support. Still nothing.
Soonyoung’s voice echoed in your head — Don’t call tech support tonight. You sighed, staring at your phone. He didn’t have to know. “Just one call,” you muttered, already pressing the number.
Beep. Beep.
You leaned back, half-asleep, bracing for the hold music and robotic voice menu. Then.. “Good evening, this is Jeon Wonwoo from customer support. How can I help you tonight?”
You were stunned.
God damn the voice.
Low, calm, a little tired but velvety — the kind of voice that could make tax advice sound seductive. “Oh. U- Hi,” you managed, blinking at the ceiling. “My laptop refuses to connect to the wi-fi. It’s being dramatic.”
A small laugh slipped through the line. “Let’s see what we can do. Are you sure it’s your wi-fi and not your laptop? Have you tried connecting it to another network?” “Positive,” you said confidently. “I’m very tech-savvy.” “ok..,” he said, amused. “Can you check your network list? What do you see?”
You peered at your screen. “Uhm-” You frowned. “I don’t see my wi-fi name. Just.. my neighbour’s? And something called ‘NETGEAR32’..what the fuck is this?” You whispered the last sentence, but figured he heard it, the way he laughed on the other line. Wah! The laugh is even hotter.
“Hmm. Could you tell me what your router looks like?” “It’s that little black box with the blinking lights, right?” “Yes,” he said slowly. “Where is it?” You turned your head toward your bedside table. “It’s right here. Wait..” you reached out and realised it wasn’t blinking at all. Just off.
You picked it up and froze. “Oh my god.” “What’s wrong?” “It’s- ahm.. uh- huh” you coughed. “It’s not plugged in. Because I moved it earlier so I could vacuum.” There was a pause. Then his voice came through again, thick with restrained laughter.
“You vacuumed your wi-fi?” “Don’t say it like that,” you protested, cheeks burning. “It sounded responsible at the time!” He chuckled — a low, genuine sound that made your stomach twist. “You’re the first caller I’ve had tonight who turned off their wi-fi for cleaning purposes.”
“See? I’m helping the world one spotless floor at a time.” “Sure,” he said. “Totally not creating your own emergencies.” You pouted even though he couldn’t see you. “You’re judging me.” “I’m observing,” he teased. “With admiration.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re rude. But also kind of charming.” “That’s a first,” he said softly, and you could hear his smile through the line.
The wi-fi reconnected instantly once you plugged it back in, but neither of you hung up. At one point, he asked, “So do you always call tech support after vacuuming?”
“Only when I make life decisions that backfire,” you said. “Which is often.” “Good to know,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Guess I should keep my line open then.” Fucking voice.. fucking hellllll- this is testing me.
You laughed, heart racing a little too fast for a call that started with a wi-fi crisis. When the line finally went quiet, you didn’t move for a while. Your wi-fi was back.
But you had a new problem
you couldn’t stop replaying his voice in your head.
“Believe me, Soonyoung, the voice. I just know he looks hot.” You were sprawled across your couch, phone on speaker, while Soonyoung sat at the edge of the coffee table, eating crisps and giving you a look that screamed disbelief.
“There are literally thousands of tech support agents, Y/N,” he said, crunching loudly. “How confident are you that you’re even gonna get-”
“Good evening,” the speaker crackled, and that low, familiar voice filled the room. “This is Jeon Wonwoo from customer support. How can I help you tonight?” Soonyoung froze mid-bite. Then he mouthed, damn.
You grinned, triumphant. “Hi,” you said, trying not to sound too excited. There was a pause — and then, that voice again, soft and amused “You again?” Soonyoung slapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.
You cleared your throat, pretending to be professional. “Yes, me again. I, um.. I think my keyboard’s stuck.” Soonyoung buried his face in a pillow. Stuck? Really? he mouthed, horrified. You whispered back, “What?! That’s the only thing I could think of!”
Wonwoo must’ve heard the shuffling because he asked, “Keyboard stuck how?” You blinked at your laptop. “Like- it’s not typing?” “Did you check if it’s connected properly?” You poked at the keys. “Yes?” “Okay. Is it wireless?” You squinted. “I mean it doesn’t have a wire.”
Soonyoung groaned into the pillow. “Alright,” Wonwoo said, patient as ever. “Can you check the little switch under it? It might be turned off.” You flipped it over. The red light was off.
“Oh.”
“Found the problem?” he asked, amusement dripping through the line. “..Possibly,” you admitted, turning it back on. Soonyoung whispered, “You’re gonna die alone.” “Don’t be jealous,” you muttered back.
“What was that?” Wonwoo asked, still smiling through his words. “Nothing! I, uh, I fixed it. You’re a genius.” “I do my best,” he said modestly. “Though you might be setting a record for repeat callers this week.”
You snorted. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad.” “I didn’t say bad,” he teased. “Just dedicated.” Soonyoung mouthed, oh my god he’s flirting. You kicked him under the table. “Well,” you said lightly, leaning back. “Thank you again for your very professional assistance, Mr. Wonwoo.”
“My pleasure,” he said smoothly. “But I should tell you — you’re gonna get me fired if you keep calling this much.” You grinned. “Then I’ll have to find another HOTline to talk with.” That made him grin — a low, surprised sound that sent goosebumps up your neck.
Before he could say anything else, you hung up, giggling, tossing your phone onto the couch like it was on fire. Soonyoung stared at you, jaw dropped. “You did not just hang up on him after saying that.”
“I did,” you said proudly, hugging a pillow. “You’re insane.” “I think I’m in love with his voice,” you ignored him. “Yeah.. definitely insane.” Soonyoung groaned, throwing himself back dramatically. “Jihoon’s never gonna believe this.”
Meetings were bad enough on their own.
Delayed meetings, however, were a special kind of torture.
You sat in the conference room with your coworkers, nursing your second cup of terrible coffee while everyone complained about the same thing.. the company’s internal program being down.
“This is the third time this week,” Hansol muttered beside you, spinning his pen like he was auditioning for a stress commercial. “Didn’t the IT promise to fix this permanently?” You sighed, leaning back. “Apparently the main IT guy’s out of town. They’re sending someone else from the other branch.”
“God,” Hansol groaned. “If this takes longer, I’m fake fainting just to go home early.” A few desks away, someone joked, “Maybe we should just call tech support!” Hansol smirked and nudged you. “Hey, that’s your thing, right?” You gave him a look. “Shut up.”
Before he could tease you again, the conference room door swung open. “Sorry for the delay,” a deep, calm voice said. “I’m from the external IT department — I’ll be fixing the system today.”
You froze.
No way.
The pen slipped from your hand. Hansol glanced at you, confused, as you slowly turned toward the door. And there he was.
Jeon Wonwoo, in the flesh.
Tall. Dressed in an office lanyard, white button-down shirt, rolled-up sleeves, soft eyes framed by dark-rimmed glasses. The same low, polite tone — the same one that had once asked, You again? through your phone speaker.
He didn’t even look in your direction, busy setting his laptop bag down near the projector. But you were already spiraling. Hansol whispered, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You grabbed his sleeve, dragging him closer, whispering, “That’s him.”
“Who-” “Tech support voice guy.”
Hansol blinked. Then his eyes widened. “No way.” “Way,” you hissed. “Oh my god, he’s real. He’s here. I’ve literally flirted with him over my wi-fi and fake keyboard issues.”
Hansol’s face twisted between amusement and disbelief. “You’re kidding. The guy you said had a voice that could fix your life? That’s him?” “Shut up,” you whispered harshly, elbowing him as quietly as possible.
But of course, Wonwoo glanced up right at that moment — and his eyes landed on the two of you whispering near the door.
You panicked and pretended to cough. Hansol, because he loved chaos, gave you the most suspiciously innocent smile possible. Wonwoo tilted his head slightly. Then, with that same even tone, said, “Sorry, could someone show me where the main server is located?”
Hansol grinned, standing immediately. “Y/N can show you.” Your head whipped toward him. “I- what?!” “She’s great with.. tech support,” Hansol said, barely holding back laughter.
You shot him a death glare before plastering on the fakest smile known to man. “Right. The server. Of course.” You led the way down the hallway, pulse hammering, mentally screaming the entire time. Behind you, you could hear the faint sound of Wonwoo’s footsteps — steady, unbothered.
And when he finally spoke, the air shifted. “You work here?” he asked casually. You swallowed. “..Apparently.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice when he replied, “Guess I should’ve known. You sound familiar.”
Your brain short-circuited. Does he recognise me?! IS THAT POSSIBLE?? Fuckk! Oh my- do I even look good today?! You laughed a little too quickly. “Do I?”
He hummed softly. “Yeah. Can’t quite place it though. Maybe I’m wrong.” Good. Keep it that way. You stopped by the room, pushing the door open and praying your soul wouldn’t just exit your body on the spot.
“Here it is,” you said, stepping aside. “The, uh.. problematic area.” Wonwoo smiled faintly — professional, polite — but something about it made your heart stutter anyway. “Thanks.”
You nodded, pretending to check your phone just to avoid melting under his presence. Hansol’s text popped up almost immediately
Hansolie: 👀 sooooooo how’s ur ‘wifi’?
You typed back furiously while walking back to the conference room.
Y/N: shut. up. hansol.
—
The elevator doors slid open to the scent of roasted beans and caramel syrup — the unofficial perfume of your company’s lobby. You needed caffeine. And possibly divine intervention. After all, you’d just spent the entire morning trying not to think about your crush slash former tech support.
“Hey, Y/N!” the barista chirped as you reached the counter. “The usual?” You nodded, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, but can you, like.. make it extra strong today? Emotionally and spiritually?”
He laughed. “Got it. Double shot, emotional damage edition.” “Perfect,” you sighed. “Oh, and can you add a little cinnamon instead of cocoa powder this time?” “Got you.” He scribbled the note on your cup. You stepped aside to wait — and that’s when you heard it.
“Can I get a flat white, please?”
That voice.
You turned, and there he was — standing just a few feet away at the other end of the counter, sleeves still rolled up, work lanyard hanging loose around his neck. Wonwoo.
He looked effortlessly calm, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone while he thanked the barista with that same low tone that made you weak in the knees.
You blinked, heart stuttering. “Oh,” you blurted before your brain caught up. “You- uh.. coffee?”
Smooth. Very eloquent.
Wonwoo glanced up, a little confused. “Me.. coffee,” he echoed, lips curving. You wanted to melt straight into the tile floor. “Hi,” you said, trying to be casual. “Again.”
“Hi,” he returned, equally casual. His voice softened. “You on break?” “Yeah, trying to survive another meeting that could’ve been an email,” you joked. “You?” “Running system checks upstairs. Thought I’d double check whether the server is plugged before your company crashes again.”
You gasped in mock offense, not fully understanding what he meant. “Hey! It wasn’t my fault this time.” He chuckled, stepping closer as the barista called both your names. You picked up your drink at the same time he reached for his — your fingers brushed for half a second.
And you definitely felt that.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, gripping your cup a little too tight. He tilted his head, smiling teasingly. “So.. how’s your technology lately?” You froze. “What-”
“That wi-fi working fine?” he asked innocently, sipping his coffee. “Keyboard behaving?” Suddenly your jaw could hit the floor.. hiding your face with your hand. “Oh my god. You know it’s me.” “I just figured it out after you showed me the room earlier,” he admitted, smirking. “You have a very.. recognizable voice.”
Oh yeah..? and you have a hella attractive voice.
“Great,” you muttered. “So now the tech guy knows ‘the girl who vacuumed her wi-fi’s’ work address..” He laughed quietly. “Could’ve been worse.” “I was trying to clean responsibly!” you protested, half laughing, half dying inside.
He leaned a little closer, eyes glinting with amusement. “You really do make my job interesting, you know that?” You tried not to look at his mouth when he smiled like that. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “It is,” he said easily.
For a second, neither of you said anything — the buzz of the lobby filling the space between you. Then your phone buzzed with a message from Hansol
Hansolie: boss asking where u r 👀
You sighed. “Duty calls.” Wonwoo held up his cup. “Same here.” You both started toward the elevators, walking side by side until the hall split. “Guess I’ll see you around, I’ll be the IT for weeks, fortunately.” he said.
You grinned, stepping backward. “Fortunately?” He smirked, tone low and teasing. “Yeah.. this time, you don’t have to press any keys to talk to me.” You turned away, trying not to smile too hard — and totally failed.
It’s been a week.
A very long, very confusing week.
Because somehow, ever since that coffee encounter, your team and the IT team have been glued together. Every project update? They’re there. Every department sync? They’re in the room. Every “quick check on the system”? It’s him.
You tried to act normal — really, you did — but it was hard to stay composed when his voice kept floating across the room. Smooth, professional, occasionally teasing when he’d call out, “Y/N, can you test the connection for me?” Yeah. Connection. Sure.
And of course, Hansol noticed. He noticed how you’d suddenly straighten in your chair whenever Wonwoo spoke, how you’d take exactly 0.5 seconds too long to respond. “You’re down bad,” he whispered during one meeting, and you kicked him under the table hard enough to rattle his pen.
Even worse, Wonwoo didn’t seem fazed by any of it. He’d walk past your desk with that tiny, unreadable smile — the kind that made your brain lag. He’d drop by for “routine checks,” which, suspiciously, only seemed necessary near your cubicle.
By Friday, your nerves were shot. You’d memorised the sound of his footsteps, the shape of his laugh, and the way he said your name like it was something erotic. Or maybe that’s just me who’s thinking that..
You weren’t sure which was worse — that he might notice, or that he already had.
—
You’d left the office hours ago, but Wonwoo’s voice lingered in your mind like a ghost. Back in your apartment, you changed into comfortable clothes — an oversized shirt and didn’t even bother to put on some shorts. You poured yourself a glass of wine, settling on the couch with your laptop, trying to focus on a show. But your thoughts kept drifting back to him.
His smile, his laugh, the way his hair fell across his forehead. You remembered the sound of his voice, the way it echoed through the empty office, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
You took a sip of your wine, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat. This is ridiculous. Is the aircon even on?!
You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling a warmth spread through you. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on just by thinking about his voice. You felt embarrassed, foolish even. But the warmth didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, pooling between your legs.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you muttered to yourself, but your hand was already sliding beneath the waistband of your underwear. You weren’t even touching yourself yet, just pressing your palm against your core through the fabric. “I’m getting horny over someone’s voice..?”
Just say you have a voice fetish — Soonyoung’s voice suddenly echoing in your head that made you feel an overwhelming rush of embarrassment and arousal. You pushed your underwear to the side and slipped a finger inside yourself, that deep voice. “Fuck..”
Slowly pushing it in and out as you imagined Wonwoo’s voice whispering dirty things in your ear. Your other hand reached up to pinch your nipple through your shirt, twisting it gently. You were getting wetter by the second, all from thinking about a man’s voice.
Your mind started playing tricks on you. You pictured his long fingers as he fast-typed on a keyboard. You bit your lip, moaning softly. “God,” you whimpered. Your hips lifted slightly, pushing your finger deeper, thinking it was Wonwoo who was finger-fucking her.
One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more stimulation, more pressure. You cursed under your breath, frustrated that your own hand wasn’t enough to get you off when just thinking about Wonwoo’s voice had you soaking wet. “Damn it..”
—
I stopped moving my finger, my heart racing as reality crashed back in. What the actual fuck was wrong with me..? Getting turned on over a voice?! What the hell. Over Wonwoo’s voice specifically??! Ughh god.. I quickly pulled my finger.
“Maybe I should..” my heart raced at the thought. “Hmm.. should I?” I don’t know what to do. But I’m burning and it hurts already, I need to get by.
This is insane. “No. I won’t do it,” but the thought only lingered on me and I’m going crazy. This is desperate.. yet also fucking hot.
My fingers trembled as I slowly dialed a number.. his number. Each digit felt like a step closer to crossing a line I wasn’t sure I could uncross. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Fuck.. fuck.. fuck! My heart is pounding so much and my free hand is already sliding back into my underwear.. ok maybe I’m not that good of a person- but I need this! I’m gonna go nuts!
—
“Hello?” His deep, husky voice came through the phone, sending a jolt straight to your core. You let out a shaky breath, your finger now slowly circling your clit as you held the phone between your shoulder and ear. “Hi..” You whispered, already lost.
“Hey,” he said softly, unknowingly pushing you further towards the edge. “Everything ok?” He asked, you could hear the concern in his voice. Your hips lifted slightly, pushing your finger inside your clit. “Mhm,”
“You sound distracted.” He paused, you could hear him moving around. “Where are you? I can barely hear you.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. You were silent for a moment, your finger moving faster. “I'm.. in bed,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
Wonwoo hummed, “It's late. You sleeping?” You bit your lip, debating whether to tell the truth. “No,” you admitted quietly, your hand moving frantically now, your legs spreading wider. Wonwoo’s voice was just too good, too enticing.
“What are you doing then?” He asked, suddenly curious. His voice dropped lower, unaware that he was talking to a woman on the verge of orgasm on the phone. “Because- I’m alone," you confessed, your breath hitching as your finger rubbed faster.
“Aw, are you bored?” He asked gently. “Kind of-” You whispered, your other hand squeezing your breast through your shirt. “Need someone to talk to?” He offered, making small talk while you edged closer to coming.
“Actually- hmm” You started, then bit your lip hard to stop yourself from moaning. Your finger was slowly pressing onto your G-spot, your thumb circling your clit exactly how you liked. “Yeah?” Wonwoo encouraged conversationally, “What is it, Y/N?”
“Nothin- ahh.. mhmm” You whispered quickly, trying to hide the fact that you were about to cum hard on the phone with him. “Just- just thinking about stuff.” Your legs were shaking now, your hips moving in time with your hand. “Like what?” He asked, genuinely interested.
“Stupid stuff..” You breathed softly. “Like.. Like-” You trailed off, getting closer. “Yeah?” He chuckled, unknowingly pushing you towards your orgasm with his deep voice. “Random stuff” You moaned softly, then covered your mouth quickly.
He hummed on the other line, pressing, “Random stuff like..? Y/N.. are you ok?” You were so close now, your hand moving desperately. “Shit-!” You whimpered into the phone, your body tensing up as you came hard, silence filling the line except for your quick pants.
You quickly ended the call, your cheeks burning red as you tried to catch your breath. You cursed yourself, throwing your phone aside and collapsing back onto your bed. “What the fuck did I just do?” You hissed at yourself, feeling both embarrassed and satisfied from that crazy spontaneous orgasm.
He didn’t catch me right..?
—
He looked at his phone, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The call ended abruptly, and he knew exactly why. His mind filled with images of you touching yourself to his voice, coming undone alone in your room. He chuckled lowly to himself, getting hard.
“Y/N L/N, what are you even planning to do?”
He said, dragging a hand over his face, clearly flustered and unsure of what to do next. No.. correction, he is sure of what he’s gonna do that night.
The week after Wonwoo’s temporary contract with her company ended felt weirdly quiet. No passing glances in the hallway, no low voice echoing across the conference room, no reason to hang around the break area pretending you needed another coffee.
Work picked up, deadlines piled, and life moved — or at least pretended to. You told yourself it was fine. Totally fine. People came and went, right? He was just one of them. Except your brain didn’t seem to get the memo. Especially with someone, you had an intense orgasm without him even knowing, or that’s what she thought.
Every time someone with a low voice spoke during a call, your heart did that stupid thing — the half-second jolt before realising it wasn’t him. You hadn’t texted, hadn’t even tried. It wasn’t like you owed him anything. Also, you’re too embarrassed to contact him anyways.
And so, you buried it — until Soonyoung decided to ruin your emotional stability for sport. “It’s Friday,” he declared, barging into your cubicle with the enthusiasm of a man who’s never known shame. “We’re going out. Jihoon’s coming. No excuses.”
“I have emails to-” “Nope,” he cut you off, snatching your mouse and dramatically logging you out. “You’re touching grass tonight, whether you like it or not.”
Which is how you ended up at a crowded downtown bar, squeezed between Soonyoung’s chaos and Jihoon’s eternal disapproval. The music was loud, the lights warm, and the air smelled like beer and bad decisions. You were halfway through your drink when Soonyoung suddenly went still. “Don’t panic,” he said.
Your stomach dropped. “Why?” “Because.. hot people incoming. Specifically, men who look like they pay taxes on time.” You turned and froze. Him. Again.
He was walking in with two other guys — one with long hair and a mischievous grin.. definitely trouble, the other already laughing at something. Wonwoo looked the same — relaxed, slightly tired, effortlessly attractive in a black long sleeves that fit a little too well. Of course. The universe had a sense of humour.
Jihoon noticed your expression instantly. “Oh no,” he muttered. “Who’s that?” You tore your gaze away too quickly. “No one.” Soonyoung squinted. “That’s tech support voice, isn’t it? You mentioned before that you met him already!!” “Lower your voice!” you hissed, smacking his arm.
But fate, being a little shit, made eye contact inevitable. Wonwoo’s eyes swept across the bar — and landed right on you. A flicker of recognition passed through his face, followed by something dangerously close to a smile.
You panicked and looked away. Pretended to study the drink menu like it held the secrets of the universe. “Oh my god,” Soonyoung whispered gleefully. “He saw you.” “Shut up.”
He didn’t. He wasn’t wearing his glasses.
A few minutes later, laughter rippled from the next table — Wonwoo’s group had settled just a few seats away. You tried not to stare. Really, you did. But when you heard his laugh — that same quiet, low sound you remembered from the phone — your whole chest ached, and also down there..
Jeonghan, his long-haired friend, caught you looking. His lips curved into a knowing smile before leaning toward Wonwoo to say something. Wonwoo’s gaze flicked your way again, he’s now wearing his typical glasses, that you swear you just want him to wear while-. Soonyoung caught that, too. “Yup. He’s looking. He’s so looking.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I hate this. I actually hate this.” Jihoon sipped his drink calmly. “No, you don’t.” And maybe he was right — because when Wonwoo finally stood up, drink in hand, and started walking toward your table, your pulse went wild.
You straightened instinctively, heart hammering. Soonyoung muttered, “Oh my god, he’s coming over-” “Hey,” came that familiar voice — smoother than you remembered, and a lot closer.
You looked up, every thought in your head dissolving into static. Wonwoo smiled. “Didn’t expect to see my favourite caller here.” Soonyoung choked on his drink. Jihoon muttered, “I need another round.”
And you? You just tried to remember how to breathe.
You blinked up at him, trying to play it cool even though Soonyoung was grinning beside you like a proud parent. “Oh, hi.” Wonwoo’s lips curved slightly. “You don’t call anymore.” You tilted your head, shy but smiling. “Well, I don’t need help with anything regarding my technologies, so..”
He took a small step closer, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I meant my personal number. After you ended the call, leaving me behind, you never called again.” You froze. The words hit like a slow echo, sinking into the quiet thrum of music around you. You blinked at him, unsure if you heard right, if he was teasing or serious — until you saw the faint glint in his eyes.
And suddenly, the flash of that night came rushing back. The memory of his voice. The way your breath had hitched, every pressed your fingers made, every moan, every shiver.. everything. The stupid thoughts that followed. Your chest felt hot.
“I- excuse me,” you muttered quickly, voice a little too thin as you slipped past him. The cool air outside hit like a reset button, sharp and grounding. You walked to the bar side, where the noise softened into background static, and pulled a cigarette from your bag with shaky fingers.
The flame flickered when you lit it. You inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs before slowly exhaling toward the empty road. The night air wrapped around you, quiet, still. Then.. a low chuckle behind you.
“You smoke?”
You turned slightly, startled. Wonwoo stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, the faint streetlight catching in his hair. He looked amused — but not judgmental, just curious, his tone lazy and warm. You blinked. “Only when I’m trying to forget embarrassing things.”
He laughed quietly, walking closer. “So that’s what I am?” You took another drag, eyes flicking toward him. “No.. fuck- sorry. I really just am trying to forget something I did”
He tilted his head, smirking faintly. “Like.. touching yourself with the help of my voice?” Your jaw almost hit the floor. You believed it did. You couldn’t even move nor talk, cigarette on your fingers, smoke curling in the space between you.
He took a step closer, closing the gap between you both. His smirk grew wider as he reached out and gently took the cigarette from your fingers. He brought it to his own lips and took a drag before exhaling slowly. “You know what I think?”
“I think you should do something for me. You left me aching that night” He took another drag before offering the cigarette back to you. When you didn’t take it as how shocked you are, he held it there teasingly. “Shotgun.” He said lowly, his face inches from yours. “Can you do a shotgun?”
The sudden request snapped you out of your stunned silence. You blinked rapidly, processing his words. “Shotgun?” You repeated dumbly, finally taking the cigarette back from his fingers. Your hand brushed against his briefly, sending a spark through you. “You want me to-” You paused, then laughed nervously.
He chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah, you know what I mean.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never done shotgun before.. you even played without who you’re thinking of”
You raised an eyebrow, ego rising, and took a long drag of the cigarette before exhaling slowly in his direction. As you did, you reached up and wrapped your hand around his nape, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. His eyes widened slightly at the sudden contact, a small jolt running through him.
You brought the cigarette to your lips again, taking a deep drag before sealing your lips around it and hovering around his mouth. You held the smoke in your mouth for a moment before exhaling slowly into his mouth, sharing the hit with him in a perfect shotgun pass.
Wonwoo’s eyes remained on yours as the smoke filled his mouth, your lips dangerously near his. It was intimate and unexpected, the act of sharing a cigarette like this. His hand instinctively gripped your wrist where it still rested on his nape, holding you there.
Before you could pull away, Wonwoo’s free hand suddenly gripped your hip possessively, pulling you closer as he went in for a kiss. The cigarette fell forgotten to the ground between your feet as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access to your mouth.
The smoke from the cigarette was intoxicating, but it was nothing compared to the taste of his mouth. Wonwoo’s lips moved urgently against yours, his tongue pushing past your lips to explore your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. The taste of tobacco mixed with his own unique flavour drove you crazy.
—
Fuck, this girl can kiss. My mind was spinning as I devoured her mouth hungrily, my hands gripping her tightly. The taste of cigarettes and something uniquely hers exploded on mine, making my head swim. * deepened the kiss further, my tongue dominating hers as I pulled her flush against me.
This is driving me insane. She’s insane.
Ever since that night, I couldn’t just take her off my mind, much worse, she didn’t even bother to reach out. She made sure she got the pleasure she needed and threw me. Now that’s hot of her.
I broke the kiss briefly as my hands framed her face. I quickly removed my glasses and set them aside. My vision was indeed blurry, but it only seemed to heighten my senses haha, this is driving me crazy. I captured her lips again immediately, my touch turning almost desperate as I kissed her.
The taste of her mouth feels like I needed her to survive.
And I’m not even gonna complain about that.
—
Wonwoo forced himself to break the kiss, his chest heaving as he looked at you through his blurry vision. Your lips were swollen and kiss-stained, a few strands of hair sticking to your flushed cheeks. He blinked rapidly to clear his sight, needing to see your expression clearly.
Your soft voice asking “What do you want to do.. Wonwoo?” snapped something inside him. His hands suddenly gripped your face harshly, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he groaned possessively before crashing his lips back onto yours brutally. He wanted to fuck you right there against the wall. But he controlled himself.
He broke the kiss again, his face inches from yours as he panted heavily. His hand slid down from your face to your neck, then lower to your collarbone before pausing at the hem of your skirt. “Can I..” He swallowed hard, his fingers curling slightly into your thighs. You nodded.
His eyes darkened as he watched your expression. His hand slid, then lower, pushing past your panties easily. He checked once more if you were okay with this — non-verbal, just watching your body language. You widened your thighs slightly, giving him better access. His mind went blank.
He pushed two fingers deep inside you without warning, his other hand gripping your hip possessively as he pinned you against the wall. His eyes never left your face, watching for any reaction. Like how your pleasure is his pleasure.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you gasped sharply at the sudden action. Your back arched slightly, pushing you further onto his fingers. A small whimper escaped your lips as he began to move his fingers in and out of you, his thumb pressing down on your clit.
“Did you imagine my fingers fucking you like this when I called you and hung up without saying a word?” He asked gruffly, his voice laced with jealousy on your fingers. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that made your legs tremble. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Fucking your own pussy thinking it was me? Hm?" He growled, his face hovering over yours. He picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out of you at a brutal pace. You could only whimper and shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak, too scared to be caught.
He noticed the change in your insides immediately, your folds tightening around his fingers as you began to clench. His eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “Won- I.. I’m close” You barely managed to say, his thumb pressing harder on your clit.
One of your legs lifted completely off the ground, wrapping around his waist instinctively as you gripped his shoulders for support. Your fingers dug into his muscles, holding on for dear life as he finger-fucked you against the wall. “Damn, look at you,” he groaned.
Just as you were on the verge of coming apart, Soonyoung’s voice echoed down the street. “Y/N! Where are you?” His fingers froze inside you, your orgasm hovering right at the edge but not allowed to fall over. You froze completely, looking into his eyes, shocked.
You quickly shushed Wonwoo, your hand pushing gently against his chest. “Pull out!” He pulled his fingers out immediately, his other hand quickly adjusting your clothing back into place. You smoothed down your hair and shirt before stepping away from him, your leg still slightly trembling. “Coming!”
Wonwoo chuckled softly against your ear as he whispered just loud enough for only you to hear “You are indeed coming..” His smirk was pure sin. You let him be and walked towards your friend and acted like nothing happened.
“Where have you been? Jihoon thought you got kidnapped,” Soonyoung said the moment he spotted you. “I’m not even that drunk yet,” you replied, looping your arm through his. “Oh, I know,” he said with a grin. “and I thought you were busy, you know.. fucking.”
You choked on your own saliva and smacked his arm. “Soonyoung!” “What?” He just laughed and slowly pushed you inside the bar again.
And before you even went inside totally, you swore you spotted Wonwoo standing against the door, his head tilted back slightly as he slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, sucking it clean. His eyes locked onto yours, his smirk widening as he watched your mouth go open.
“Where’s Soonyoung?” Jihoon asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You giggled, already drunk. “Probably busy making out with someone,” you replied, downing another shot. “Jihoon.. I’m going to sit at that table,” you pointed at one across the room. “Oki?! Don’t find me.. ehe”
Jihoon just shook his head, a small smile on his face as he watched you jog away giggling. “Have safe sex.” He called out after you, his voice getting lost in the loud music of the bar. You waved him off without looking back, your giggles echoing as you made your way to the table alone, a man on the couch, smirking, eyebrows raised as he watched you walk towards him.
“Drunk enough to come at me, Y/N?” Wonwoo said, his arms spread on the back of the sofa, looking intently at you as you sat on one of his thighs and leaned into him. “But sober enough to know what I’m doing..”
Wonwoo chuckled, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Even hotter,” he murmured against your hair, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.
He leaned in for another kiss, but you pulled back slightly. “How did you know I was touching myself during our call last time?” You asked softly, searching his face for answers. His smirk returned slowly as he pulled back slightly too. “Love.. it was so obvious” He paused.
His fingers gently scanned your face, his voice low and husky as he continued, “I could hear you whimpering softly, your breaths hitching. I knew exactly what you were doing.” His thumb lightly brushed against your jaw as you opened your eyes again to look into his.
You pulled him into a heated kiss, your lips pressing urgently against his. Wonwoo groaned instantly, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he pulled you closer. The kiss was demanding, passionate, and full of unsaid words. You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, hard as a rock.
The kiss became more intense, tongues dancing aggressively. You started grinding against him slowly, feeling his hardness through his pants. He broke the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, one hand gripping your hair while the other squeezed your ass, pulling you harder against him. “Your place or mine?”
“Yours..” You said as you leaned wanting to continue the kiss, yet he stopped the kiss as he pulled you up and guided you towards his car. He quickly unlocked his car and pushed you gently inside, he held onto your jaw, kissing you torridly, then pulled away and closed your door.
He walked around the car and got in the driver’s seat, his heart pounding with anticipation. The drive to his place was a blur of speeding streets and red lights. His hands gripped the steering wheel and your thighs, dangerously close to your cunt, tightly, trying to focus on the road instead of the throbbing in his pants.
—
Your jacket hit the living room floor. His shirt was thrown somewhere between the kitchen counter and the hallway. Your bra was tossed near the stairs while his belt buckle echoed loudly. Your pants were kicked off near his bedroom door. His boxers hit the floor just as you slammed him against the wall for another deep kiss.
You pushed him backwards onto the bed, naked except for your underwear. His hard cock stood up proudly, leaking pre-cum. Instead of straddling him immediately like he expected, you climbed on top of him slowly, grinding your covered pussy against his cock teasingly. “Y/N.. stop torturing me.”
He went feral as you positioned yourself on the bed with your hands above your head, giving him full access and a clear view of your body. “Good idea.. how about torture me instead,” you smirked.
“I’m going to torture you so good,” he muttered as he ripped your underwear completely off while kissing you. Before you could even move, he was positioning you in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, making you sit on his lap with your legs spread wide.
You could see your entire body reflected in the mirror — your spread legs, his muscular arms wrapped around your thighs keeping them open. Your breasts were beautifully free as he kneaded them slowly from behind. You watched yourself being used in this position. “Look at yourself,” he whispered. That made you shiver.
“God, I love this view,” he whispered against your neck, making you arch your back slightly to press your ass against his cock. “You see how wet you are? How your pussy is just dripping?” He pulled your hips back slightly so your reflection showed your wet slit clearly.
“And your perfect tits..” He squeezed them harder, leaving red marks. “I could fuck you like this all night, watching you watch yourself get destroyed.” His hands slid down to your inner thighs, spreading you wider, you shut your eyes and exhaled a very shaky one.
He slapped your breast hard enough to leave a handprint, making you gasp and your eyes fly open instantly. “Uh-oh.. eyes on the mirror, love” He kissed and bit your earlobe roughly. “Watch how wet you are and I’m not even holding you”
“You know I’m not going to touch your pretty little pussy until you beg,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning across your neck. He proceeds to rub himself against your back, teasing you with the head of his cock. “You want me to touch you?” You nodded desperately. “Then cum.”
He chuckled darkly, his voice seductive. “You’re shaking so bad, love.” He pinched your nipple, making you gasp and your body tremble even more.
“Wonwoo.. please” You begged him. “Imagine what it would feel like inside you.. but no, love. You’re gonna cum from my words alone.” He rubbed against your back again, his voice like a drug, making you whimper. “Mhmm- ughh.. ah Wonwoo-”
“You’re so close, I can tell,” he murmured, his hands slowly sliding up your body from your nipples, over your collarbone, until his fingers wrapped gently around your neck. He applied the slightest pressure, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel owned. “Go on, princess. Cum then I’ll fuck you senselessly,” he whispered.
His breath on your neck, sucking on it, at the same time watching your back arch, your hips tilt back instinctively looking for friction, your fold lips swelling and getting wetter by the second without being touched. “I can see your clit throbbing, Y/N.”
“Then.. d-do something about it..” “Shhh.. moan for me... arch that beautiful back... your cunt is twitching so fucking adorably, you’re making me want to put it inside already” His grip on your neck tightened slightly as he watched you fall apart from his words alone.
You let out a desperate whine, your hips moving on their own now, searching for something to grind against. He leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to lick the inside of your ear, making you shiver even more intensely. “Such a good girl for me,” he whispered.
Fucking voice of yours.
Your body snapped tight as if electrocuted. You threw your head back with a silent cry. Your cunt twitched hard, releasing wetness down your thighs without anything inside you. Your back arched sharply, breasts pushing out, neck exposed as you rode out your unexpected orgasm from just his voice and minimal touch. “Jesus..!”
“Ughh- ahh fuck.. mhmm-hmm” He chuckled as he watched your reflection in the mirror, his eyes intense and hungry. Your moans echoed through the room, desperate and needy sounds that only turned him on more. He kept his hand gently wrapped around your neck even after your orgasm subsided.
“My turn,” he groaned, pushing you down onto your knees without warning. He spread your legs wide apart with his knees, using his cock to spread your cum-coated fold lips open. Without hesitation, he pushed inside you hard and deep. When did he even put on the condom?? “Fuck,” he groaned loudly, feeling your warmth inside that almost made him feral.
He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back onto his cock as he kneeled behind you. Your reflection in the mirror showed your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and your breasts bouncing with each thrust. “You’re tight like how I imagined you to be,” he grunted, slapping your ass hard.
“So fucking wet and sticky from your cum,” he groaned, watching his dick disappear inside your slit in the mirror. “And it’s gripping me so fucking tightly.” He reached around to press your clit, making you whine and push back onto his dick harder.
You’re long gone.You felt his cock stretching you open again after cumming so hard from just his words earlier. Each slap on your clit sent electric shocks through your sensitive body, making your walls flutter around him even more tightly. You watched helplessly in the mirror as he fucked you ruthlessly from behind.
Your breasts bounced heavily with each thrust, your hair messy and wild. You felt his balls on your slit with every deep push inside you. He was hitting that spot deep within you that made stars explode behind your eyes. You moaned loudly without inhibition, pushing back eagerly onto his cock.
Suddenly, he grabbed a handful of your hair roughly and pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back and lean onto him. His other hand reached around to squeeze your throat gently as he started fucking you even harder and faster. The mirror reflected your desperate face, mouth open in a scream of pleasure and pain.
“Wonwoo..” you moaned, eyes shut. “That’s right.. moan the name of the guy inside you right now.” He said, not letting his eyes leave the mirror even for just a second.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered on your ear, his fingers tightening around your neck as his hips snapped forward, burying his wrapped dick deep inside your folds, which tightened as well along with his orgasm. You felt his hot cum shooting inside the condom. I wonder what it feels like without the condom..
He let out a few more hard thrusts, making sure both of your orgasms are satisfied. Pull out, throw the condom, and put on a new one, your eyes solely on the mirror, watching his movements from behind.
Then, suddenly, lifted you up in his arms. Without a word, he pinned you against the mirror, your leg wrapping around his arm and the other one on his shoulders instinctively. “Fucking hell- Wonwoo! Didn’t even wa-wait..” He started pounding into you with brutal force. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room along with your moans and his heavy breathing.
His cock was rock hard again inside you, hitting that spot deep inside that made your vision blur. Now it’s not just him who has a blurry vision. He leaned in, crushing his lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss.
His tongue invaded your mouth, mimicking the movements of his dick as he continued to make love with you. You could taste the saltiness of his sweat and the faint hint of tobacco on his lips.
You were overstimulated beyond belief, your body shaking and twitching with every thrust. Your cunt was so sensitive from the multiple orgasms that even the slightest touch made you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. His kiss was suffocating, his tongue overwhelming your mouth.
Your nipples were hard and aching, rubbing against his chest with every rough thrust. You felt your cunt clenching around him uncontrollably, milking his cock for more cum. Your entire body was on fire, every nerve ending sparking with intense pleasure.
He pulled back from the kiss to watch you with heavy-lidded eyes, his gaze flicking up to the mirror behind you. The glass shook and rattled with each thrust, reflecting your contorted face and the way your body bounced against his. He grinned, seeing how thoroughly fucked out you looked.
“Fucking look at yourself,” he growled lowly, his voice rough and commanding. “See what a mess you are? Getting destroyed by my dick.” His hand reached up to your face, pushing his thumb to open your mouth. “You like that?” You sucked on his thumb, making him smirk.
Your eyes rolled back, your body convulsing as you came suddenly on his cock. “Shit-” your pussy clamping down so tightly he swore he thought his dick’s gonna be cut in half. He watched in the mirror as your entire body shook with pleasure. “Cuming without saying, huh?”
“You like my voice so much?!” He groaned, not slowing down his thrusts even as you spasmed around him. He adjusted his angle slightly, hitting that spot that made you scream even through your sensitivity. He’s catching his high as well.
His hips are moving slower but more deep now. “Still squeezing my cock like you’ve never cum before.” He bit your lip hard as he felt his orgasm building. “Gonna fill this condom so fucking much..”
“Ahh-!” He moaned loudly, screaming your name, burying his face in your neck as he started coming hard, his hips jerking forward as he pumped his cum into the condom. You could feel the warmth even through the rubber, his thick cum filling it to the brim again, like he hadn’t just filled you minutes ago.
Morning light filtered through the curtains — pale gold, slow, almost shy. You stirred against the sheets, the faint scent of coffee and clean linen hanging in the air. The space beside you was warm.
Wonwoo lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, scrolling lazily through his phone. His hair was messy, eyes soft when he noticed you blink awake. “Goodmorning,” he murmured, voice lower than usual — rough with sleep. What the fuck.. he’s voice could be deeper????
You only hummed in reply, burying your face halfway into the pillow. The ache in your body made everything feel heavy but oddly peaceful. You shifted a little, noticing the fresh bottoms you had on, the faint scent of soap clinging to your skin. “Did you..?” you started.
He chuckled quietly. “Yeah. You knocked out last night. I didn’t want you waking up sticky, so I took care of it.” You groaned softly, covering your face with one hand. “You really didn’t have to-” “I wanted to,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Your glasses didn’t fall last night..” You said, trying to prove a point. “Oh is my glasses, one of your fantasies as well?” He teased that made you and him laugh.
Silence stretched for a moment — comfortable, slow. Then you reached across the bedside table for your phone. He watched you, eyebrow raised. “Already checking your emails?” “Nope.” You grinned sleepily, fingers already dialing.
He frowned. “Are you seriously calling someone right now?”
You pressed the speaker button and looked at him. The phone rang once before his phone, somewhere on the nightstand, began to buzz. Wonwoo’s brow furrowed even more. “Are you calling me?”
You smirked as his screen lit up with your name. He picked up, lips curving. “What is this..?”
You smiled into the receiver, eyes still on him. “Just making sure I don’t have to press one again for tech support.” He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned closer.
“Good,” you said softly. “Because when I dial a number, I like it when it’s your voice that answers, not an automated machine.” Wonwoo chuckled, setting his phone down and brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Then I guess I’ll keep the line open for you.”
You met his gaze — lazy morning sunlight spilling over both of you — and smiled. “Mhmm. Because I think I might need tech support again.” He laughed against your lips. “For what?”
“For whatever’s wrong with my heart,” you teased.
Wonwoo only kissed you in reply.
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ reblog with tags and feedbacks are so much appreciated, it motivates me a lot ❤️ See y’all in my next one (part 2 of ..shhh)
