Bela

Every single thing Wonwoo Jeon does pisses you off.

It's bad enough having a co-TA that's pretentious as fuck. You studied English in undergrad, and every single male English major you ever met was a big-headed know-it-all, so you're (unfortunately) used to the type. But on top of being full of himself, Wonwoo has apparently made it his life's mission to do everything in his power to one-up you in every regard. No matter how early you show up to anything, he is somehow always already there; no matter how fast you grade papers, he's always finished well before you; no matter what the discussion subject is, he always has to repeat everything you say in a way that sounds smarter than the way you said it. There are seven trillion nerves in the human body, and he manages to get on every single one of them.

So when you walk into your own office hours one day to see him sitting at your desk, talking to your students, it takes everything in you not to snap.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you at my office hours!" you say with a forced grin, your words dripping with sarcasm.

"Y/n, how lovely of you to show up," he smiles smugly at you. "I thought I'd use my free time to actually help out our students."

"Well aren't you a saint."

"Just doing my job."

"That's funny, because you seem to be doing my job right now."

"Well now, I wouldn't have to do your job if you were capable of showing up on time."

"I am only," you scowl, lifting your wrist to glance at your watch. "Four minutes late."

"You're right," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine to waste people's time if it's only four minutes."

The two undergrads sitting between the both of you look visibly uncomfortable. There's a lot of things you wish to say right now, none of them polite — but since you have an audience, you refrain.

"Well, since you clearly don't need me here, I'll just go home then," you tell Wonwoo with a huff. "Have fun running my office hours."

You storm off before he can say anything else, letting the door slam shut behind you.

You're fuming all the way home. Normally, you are very patient with others, even when it comes to jerks with less than savory personalities — but something about Wonwoo grinds your gears like nothing else. The problem is that he knows he can get under your skin with bare minimum effort, and, for whatever fucking reason, he takes every opportunity he can to weaponize this against you.

With your unanticipated bit of free time, you decide to channel your rage into productivity, working on your thesis for the remainder of the afternoon. Thankfully, it works, and by dinnertime you've forgotten all about your annoying coworker.

The next day is off to a great start. You got up early, giving yourself plenty of time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a bagel and coffee. You sip the hot beverage as you walk to the Literature Hall for your 10am discussion, strolling along with an extra bit of pep in your step as you enjoy the peaceful, pleasant morning. Everything is going great — until you step into the classroom and see Wonwoo sitting at one of the desks in the back, stretched out casually like he fucking lives here.

"Oh, what are you doing here today Wonwoo?" you ask with a faux grin, playing dumb. There's already a handful of students in the room, so despite the fact that you're suddenly seeing red you are forced to be civil.

"Oh, just had some free time this morning," he answers blithely. "Thought I'd pop in and join the discussion."

"You sure seem to have a lot of free time for someone in grad school," you remark.

Wonwoo shrugs arrogantly. "What can I say, I'm efficient at managing my time."

You would love to walk back there and slap that dumb look off his dumb face. Instead you decide to ignore him for the remainder of the hour — a task that proves to be unfeasible, due to his constant self-insertion into the conversation. Unfortunately, he is extremely smart and articulate, so the students eagerly engage with his bullshit.

It's the fucking Great Gatsby, you think to yourself. Does he really have nothing better to do than flex his knowledge on a boring, easy book to a bunch of clueless freshmen??

The remainder of hour passes at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you wish to bang your head against the wall about it. At five-til Wonwoo decides to bring up a completely new topic, seemingly trying to get this session to drag on forever, but you're not having any of it today.

"Very interesting points you bring up there, Wonwoo," you loudly interrupt him. "But class is over now. Next week we will discuss the remaining chapters, so be sure to finish reading the book before then."

The students begin to shuffle out, and Wonwoo is quick to make his exit.

"Oh, Wonwoo, I had a question for you," you call out to him before he can make it out of the room, but he doesn't stop.

"Sorry, gotta run," he replies smugly. "Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to talk!" With a wave he zips out the door and disappears.

Needless to say, you did not shoot him an email; but by late-afternoon, much to your chagrin, he is in your inbox anyway.

Dear y/n, You had a question for me earlier, however I noticed that you hadn't reached out to me about it yet, so I figured I'd contact you since you clearly forgot. What can I help you with? Best, WJ

"Pretentious little fucking prick," you grumble to yourself. You delete the email and shut your laptop.

After a lovely, Wonwoo-free weekend, you have the misfortune of starting off your week with him in your weekly TA/professor check-in first thing Monday morning. Of course, despite you getting there ten minutes early, Wonwoo is already in Professor Sosa's office, balls deep in some bullshit conversation about whatever bullshit book he's been reading recently. You sit down in the remaining chair, without a word, waiting for them to be done so you can get this painful meeting over with — but to your dismay, neither one of them seem to be in any rush. You peek at your watch a couple times, trying not to appear as annoyed as you currently are. Wonwoo definitely notices, though.

"I could talk about Wallace's use of the unreliable narrator for days," he grins, turning to you. "But I don't want to bore y/n any further. Shall we get started on the midterm?"

You take a deep breath as the professor begins to discuss the essay topics. You're going to try your hardest not to let him get on your nerves this early in the day — a task that's already proving itself to be a challenge. The next thirty minutes drag on at the slowest imaginable pace; you do your best to focus on the work at hand, but of course Wonwoo keeps going off on ostentatious tangents, and purposefully dragging you into the conversations no less. When the meeting finally ends, you're ready to book it out of there; you reach for your notebook sitting on the table beside you, but despite you just sitting it down a few moments ago it's not there. You look around, but you don't see it on the floor anywhere. Maybe you put it away already — but a peek into your backpack comes up empty-handed.

You notice Wonwoo watching you, wearing his usual arrogant expression, but you ignore him. The moment the professor leaves, he leans over to you.

"Looking for this?" he asks smugly, holding your missing notebook out to you. You go to grab it, but he quickly pulls it back out of reach.

"Seriously?" you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.

"What's the rush?" he taunts. "I know you don't have anywhere to be until 2."

"And how would you know that?" you narrow your eyes at him.

"I memorized your schedule."

You stare back at him, looking genuinely confused. "Why??"

He shrugs. "Figured it'd be good to know."

You'd love to know exactly what he means by that, but you don't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary.

"Well isn't that just wonderful," you say as sarcastically as possible, rising to your feet; Wonwoo follows suit. "Now will you give me my notebook back?"

You reach for it again, but he lifts it above his head — well out of your reach.

"What the actual fuck is your problem?!" you raise your voice. He looks surprised, but a cocky grin spreads across his face.

"It's okay, y/n, I'm just messing with you."

"Well, don't!!"

You glare at him, but he still wears that dumb, satisfied smirk.

"You don't have to act like you hate me, you know."

"It's not acting."

"Of course it's not," he smiles, unbothered. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay," you sigh exasperatedly. "What do you want to ask me, Wonwoo?"

"What's your favorite restaurant?"

"What??"

"Your favorite restaurant," he repeats. "I'd like to take you out to dinner."

You stand there aghast. "You're not serious," you say to him.

"I am."

"What on earth makes you think I want to go on a date with you?!"

"It doesn't have to be a date," he responds. "We can go as friends."

"We are not friends," you reply coldly, snatching your notebook out of his hands and shoving it into your backpack before he can stop you.

"See you in class tomorrow!" he calls out warmly as you storm out of the room, clearly not affected by anything you said.

You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but you hold your tongue, instead letting the door slam behind you as you exit the office without another word.

The next day you show up to class right on time, and not a moment sooner. You figured if you got there right as the lecture begins, Wonwoo wouldn't be able to talk to you — and thankfully, you were right. He's sitting two chairs down, and you feel his eyes on you the whole hour, but you do not turn to look at him even once. When the lesson finally concludes, you book it out of there, but apparently that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Y/n!" he calls out as he hurries after you. You keep walking, pretending not to hear him, but he catches up to you quickly.

"Hey, I was wondering if you—"

"The answer is no," you cut him off.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he smiles at you.

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."

"Alright, guess I'll find someone else who's interested in first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday."

You stop in your tracks, your head snapping over to him.

"You do not have first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie," you call him out. "That show has been sold out for weeks."

"I have connections."

"Right. Do you even like Death Cab?" you ask doubtfully.

"I don't know, I've never heard any of their songs," he answers matter-of-factly. "But I know they're your favorite band."

"And why do you know that??"

He shrugs. "I pay attention."

"So let me get this straight. You bought concert tickets to my favorite band in hopes that I'd go on a date with you?"

"It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want," he replies. "We can go as friends."

"I already told you," you glare at him, lowering your voice so none of the students passing by can hear you bickering. "We are not friends."

"But we can be," he smiles softly. "Just give me one chance. We have more in common than you think, y/n."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," you tell him, walking away.

"Think about it," he calls out as you head off down the hall.

"I won't" you grumble quietly under your breath.

Unfortunately you're not able to get Wonwoo and his concert tickets off your mind. You even end up ranting to your roommate about it, but to your dismay she thinks you should accept the offer.

"Are you crazy?!" Sana asks. "You're not seriously going to pass up free concert tickets to your favorite band just because you don't want to go on a date?"

"It's not even a date," you complain. "He just wants to go as friends."

"Okay, even better! What's the issue then?"

"The issue," you answer, "is that he's the most pretentious, insufferable douchebag to ever walk the face of the earth."

"He can't possibly be that bad."

You roll your eyes. "You'd be surprised."

"Come on, y/n," she insists. "You can literally take advantage of him! Just go to the concert and then never talk to him outside of class again. You know you'll regret it if you don't."

You grimace, because she's right. It's not even just concert tickets — it's front row concert tickets, for free. You'd be a fool not to accept the offer. But you can't help that spending an entire evening with Wonwoo genuinely sounds like your own personal hell.

"I'll think about it," you reply to Sana with a deep sigh.

You do think about it — far too much, perhaps. By Thursday, despite hating yourself a bit for it, you come to the conclusion that when he asks again you will accept. So you wait for him to inevitably send you an email, or show up unannounced at your office hours, but you don't see or hear from him once. Strange, considering how much he usually goes out of his way to bother you, but honestly you're enjoying the peace while it lasts. You've all but given up on the concert when finally, late in the Friday afternoon, you get an email from Wonwoo.

Dear y/n, I assume you've changed your mind about the concert by now, so I will plan to pick you up at 5pm tomorrow — that way we can go to dinner before the show. Please let me know your favorite restaurant so I can make a reservation accordingly. Best, WJ

With a sigh, you type up your reply.

Hello Wonwoo, I like Thai food — you take your pick of restaurant. See you tomorrow. —y/n

It pains you to hit send, but you do anyway. You're getting a free dinner and concert out of this, you remind yourself. You can suck it up and deal with Wonwoo for one night.

And you know it's true. You've dealt with bigger bullshit before than spending a few hours with one annoying man — besides, like Sana said, how bad could it possibly be? Still, you can't shake the anxious feeling that he has some ulterior motive here. Maybe he's just doing this to fuck with you, maybe he's going to do everything he can to make your night as miserable as possible. But maybe he's not. You can't fathom that he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart — if anything, he's probably just trying to get into your pants. But, you suppose there's only one way to find out.

True to his word, Wonwoo showed up to your apartment at 5pm on the dot to pick you up. You were lowkey regretting agreeing to go to dinner with him — at least at the concert you won't have to engage in actual conversation, but an hour or so spent one-on-one with him, making small talk? What were you thinking?? But it was too late to back out, so here you are, sitting across the dinner table from your mortal enemy at a Thai place on the other side of town that you've never even heard of before.

"How did you even find this place?" you ask him as you peruse the menu. "This is so far from campus."

"I'm attempting to try every restaurant in town," he answers casually, not looking up from his menu. "It's something of a hobby of mine."

"Oh, really?" you reply. Wonwoo glances up at you, a peek of a grin poking at his lips.

"You sound surprised."

"I guess I just didn't know that about you," you shrug.

"What did you think I do for fun, then?"

"I… Well, I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I guess I never thought about that before."

"So you assumed I sit in my house all day reading books," he jests.

"I didn't say that!" you protest.

"I know, y/n, I'm just teasing you," he smiles. He nudges his head toward your menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"

"I'm debating between the pad see eiw and the green curry," you answer, still staring at the page.

"The curry is really good," he tells you. "It's got the perfect amount of spice, if you like spicy."

"I do," you nod, setting your menu down too. "What are you getting?"

"I'm going with the khao moo deng."

"Oh my god, like the hippo!"

"What?" he asks, raising his brow at you.

"You know, Moo Deng! The baby hippo who went viral," you explain. "She's from Thailand — they named her after the dish."

"Oh, I don't use social media," he replies plainly.

"Now that doesn't surprise me."

Wonwoo grins. "What are you implying? That I'm uncool and out of touch?"

"I mean yeah, pretty much," you admit.

"I can live with that," he chuckles.

You order, slightly worried about the quality of the food considering that there is only one other occupied table in the whole restaurant; but as soon as the server sets the aromatic dish in front of you, your mouth starts watering. The curry is incredible — some of the best you've ever had, even. You hate to admit it, but Wonwoo did manage to pick a great restaurant. By the time you finish eating, you realize you've been yapping nonstop the whole time. A bit annoying, considering that you more or less hate his guts, but you're just glad the evening hasn't turned out to be a complete disaster yet.

Despite your protests, Wonwoo pays for your dinner, and it is time to head to the concert. Stupidly, you have butterflies in your stomach the whole way there, but you chalk it up to your sheer excitement over finally seeing your favorite band for the very first time. Making your way into the theater, you walk with Wonwoo all the way to the front of the auditorium, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about possibly being perceived with him of all people. But, you don't want to think about that right now, so you just hope and pray no one you know is here.

"Holy shit," you remark as you take your seats. "I've never been this close at a concert before."

"Me neither," Wonwoo replies. "Though, I suppose I've never been to any concert before."

"Wait," you say, turning to look at him. "Are you serious?"

He turns to face you, making you realize that the two of you are currently very uncomfortably close to each other.

"Yes," he answers. "Though, I suppose I did see the New York Philharmonic while I was visiting NYC a few years ago."

"I mean, sure, but that's not a concert concert."

He grins at you. "What would you consider a concert concert, then?"

"You know, like a band that's on tour. That you would buy albums of."

"Well, I suppose most of the artists I listen to aren't touring so much these days."

"Yeah I think Beethoven's a little dead at this point."

Wonwoo laughs. "I meant more so that I listen to a lot of classic rock from the 60s and 70s," he explains. "So you're not entirely wrong about them being dead."

"I didn't know you were into the classics," you respond, surprised to find out that you have that in common. "I grew up listening to that era of music too."

"You never asked," he shrugs.

The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd begins to cheer as the shadowy figures of the band take to the stage in the dark. As the first song begins, you suddenly feel overwhelmed — you're not much of a concert person usually, but hearing the music you've been listening to since you were young live and in person is making you feel inexplicably emotional. You quickly blink the tears from your eyes, and the sensation soon dissipates, returning you to the music and the atmosphere of fans singing along to all the lyrics. The show is so incredible that for the remainder of the night you barely even recall who it is you came here with in the first place. You're having too much fun to notice, but Wonwoo's eyes keep flickering over to you, a soft look of affection etched onto his face.

The concert-goers flood out of the theater in droves, chattering and laughing as everyone is still riding the rush of adrenaline from the show. You and Wonwoo make your way across the parking lot, the chill of the night air refreshing as it tingles against your cheeks.

"So, how was it?" Wonwoo asks as you walk in the general direction of his car. Free of the joyful environment of the concert, you remember now how much he has always annoyed you. But, much to your surprise, the annoyance you typically feel around him is not present, nor is the smug attitude that usually colors his voice.

"That was amazing," you admit, smiling blissfully. "I still can't believe I actually got to experience my favorite band live."

"Good," he smiles at you. You approach his car, Wonwoo brushing past you to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a confused look, but you just thank him and let yourself into the car. Once you're in he shuts the door, and you watch him as he walks around to the driver's side. You don't particularly want to inflate his ego any further, but you know you have to genuinely thank him for the whole experience.

He gets in the car, turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coming to life.

"Thank you for the ticket, Wonwoo," your voice comes out softly as he reaches for the gear shift. His hand pauses atop it, looking over to meet your gaze. You were standing next to him all night, but the distance between the two of you suddenly feels extremely close; yet, it's not uncomfortable.

"You're welcome, y/n," he smiles at you.

"I have to ask, though," you continue. "Why did you do it?"

He cocks his head at you slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" you start hesitantly. You don't want to be too blunt, but you also don't feel the need to beat around the bush.

"I mean, why buy me concert tickets when I've made it very clear I don't even like you?"

Wonwoo grins slightly. "Why do you think?"

"Honestly?" you reply. "Probably to get in my pants, I don't fucking know."

"Well, that's certainly not something I'd be opposed to," he chuckles. "But that's not why."

"Okay," you concede. "Why, then?"

He gazes back at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter anxiously.

"Because I knew it would make you happy," he answers. "And I want you to be happy whether you like me or not."

You feel your stomach drop, your face suddenly burning hot. That was not the answer you were expecting, and you quite frankly don't know how to respond.

"I—" you stammer quietly. "I… Sorry, I don't know what to say to that," you admit, trying to hide your embarrassed face behind your hand.

"You don't have to say anything," he tells you gently, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You sit there silently as he waits in the slow-moving line to exit the parking lot, wishing you could disappear. You're considering hopping out of the car and finding another ride home, but the line finally starts moving. As Wonwoo heads toward the exit, he turns to look at you.

"Can we take a brief detour on the way home?" he asks casually. "I want to show you something."

"Sure," you answer after a few seconds of silence. Wonwoo nods, switching the turn signal from right to left, pulling out into the street and driving off in the opposite direction of home. He drives for a few minutes in seemingly the wrong direction away from anything, and you're starting to wonder if you should be worried.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see in just a minute," he replies nonchalantly.

"Is this when I find out you're actually a serial killer?" you joke. Wonwoo laughs.

"No, definitely not a serial killer, I promise."

"Ooookay," you say, still unsure.

True to his word, in about another minute or so he turns onto a dirt road you didn't even see from the main road. He drives slowly as the road turns into an incline, clearly going up a steep hill.

"Sorry," he says, having noticed that you look a bit nervous. "This part of the road is a bit nerveracking, but we're almost there," he assures you.

The surrounding trees soon begin to become more sparse, eventually opening up to what looks to you like a small clearing at the top of the hill. A big metal guard rail wraps around the area; as Wonwoo pulls up to it to park the car, you gasp. Beyond the guard rail is an incredible view of the whole town, the orange glow of the streetlights and houselights making it look so warm and picturesque that it seems like a scene straight out of a movie.

"Holy shit," you say softly, awestruck by the unreal sight. Wonwoo grins, then hops out of the car. You follow suit and join him by the railing, taking in the stunning view.

"I had no idea there was anything like this around here," you say softly.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. Your eyes flicker over to him, finding his gaze fixated on you.

"How did you find this?" you ask, the same rush of heat as earlier returning to your cheeks.

"My roommate last year told me about it — he grew up around here, apparently it was a popular place for high schoolers to take their dates."

"So you've brought me to a make-out point," you reply, raising your brow at him.

"I suppose so," he chuckles. "But genuinely, I just wanted to show you the view."

"So you don't want to make out with me then."

Wonwoo smiles, his eyes still locked onto yours. You feel a wave of heat overtaking you again, this time burning achingly in your core. If this had happened yesterday, you would be peeved; but the usual feeling of displeasure you feel in his presence is nowhere to be found.

"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," he answers plainly.

"And what if I do want it?"

The words feel foreign on your tongue, your voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it as yours. But you said it, and for reasons you cannot explain, you meant it.

Wonwoo takes a small step toward you. "Want what?" he asks, the cheekiness in his words not going unnoticed.

"Want you to kiss me," you say, taking a small step toward him. Your mouths are mere inches apart, and Wonwoo's eyes definitely keep flickering down to your lips.

"You do?" he asks, a grin overtaking his face.

"Yeah," you answer, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. "I do."

Wonwoo smiles, then the next thing you know his lips are crashing into yours. The kiss starts out soft, sweet — his mouth presses against yours delicately, savoring your taste for the first time, his fingers brushing lithely over your jaw, sending a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you accept the kiss. His hands slowly drift to your sides, slipping into your open coat and resting upon your hips. Before you can even think twice you're leaning into him, the warmth of his torso instantly blocking the chill of the late autumnal air. He kisses you slowly at first, but that doesn't last long — not with you being tangled up in each other's grasp. His lips start tugging at yours with sudden urgency, and you eagerly reciprocate. The ridiculousness of you making out with the coworker you up until tonight absolutely could not stand is not lost on you, but right now you could not care less.

His lips depart yours far too soon, his hands maintaining their grip on your waist as you stare up into his eyes. You've never seen Wonwoo from this close up — why would you have? But you don't recall his eyes ever being so soft and warm as they are gazing back at you through his lenses right now. A chill overtakes you, and you shiver slightly as the wind cuts through your layers.

"C'mere," he tells you, taking hold of your hand and starting to pull you back toward his car. "It'll be warmer in here."

He opens the door to the backseat, gesturing for you to enter first; you slide across the soft leather to the other side, allowing him room to climb in after you, but as soon as he's inside with the door closed he grabs you again, taking hold of your arms and dragging you into his embrace. Without the wind now, inside the car quickly becomes a bit too toasty. Wonwoo hastily removes your coat, tossing it into the front seat and following suit with his own jacket. He pulls you over onto him, your thigh swinging over his legs as you sit straddled across his lap, your arms draped over the top of the backseat as you lean in to kiss him again. This time his tongue swipes at your lips; you part them, allowing him entrance, your tongues now dancing against each other with fervent need. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, running up your stomach and resting atop the cups of your bra. You break the kiss momentarily, the corners of your lips twisting into a sly smile.

"Go on," you say to him, nudging your head toward your sweater. "Take it off."

He grins back at you, the red glow of his cheeks apparent even in the dim lighting. Grabbing the hem he lifts the garment over your head and practically flings it onto the seat next to him. Shirtless now, he stares at your cleavage before him, his hands grasping at the soft flesh through your bra.

"I've thought about this exact scenario a thousand times," he mutters, licking his lips. "But god, it's even better than I imagined."

He peers up at you again, staring at you hungrily for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly reaches for his glasses, ripping them off his face and tossing them onto the seat with your sweater before diving back into your lips. He kisses you as his hands wander to your lower back, and your grind your hips against him — an involuntary action, but it causes your clit to press into the stiff bulge forming in his trousers. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation, exhaling against his lips as he holds you tight in his arms. Eventually his fingers return to your boobs, grazing gently over your cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he starts breathily, but you shake your head immediately.

"I want to," you tell him softly, and a mischievous grin flickers at his lips. "What?" you laugh.

"Nothing, just remembering how much you hated my guts a few days ago and here we are now," he replies cheekily, squeezing lightly at your boobs.

"I didn't 'hate your guts'," you refute as you roll your eyes. "I just found you annoying and insufferable."

"Oh, is that all?" he smirks.

"Shut up," you mumble, leaning your forehead against his as you hover your lips right above his mouth. "Do you wanna kiss me or not?"

"I do, very much so," he smiles, lightly dragging his bottom lip across yours. His hands slide to your hips, pressing your core into his erection again as he grinds you against his lap.

"Fuck," you gasp, followed by an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, I just… it's been a little while," you admit.

"Don't apologize," he says, kissing down your down your chin, nudging his face into your neck as he places a delicate string of kisses onto the tender skin. The sensation makes you melt, sinking your clothed cunt further into his bulge. "We can take this as slow as you want."

"Who said I want to go slow?"

He lifts his head, meeting your eyes again, finding them eager and needy.

"God, you're gonna drive me crazy if you keep saying stuff like that," he says with a lazy smirk.

"Good," you reply with a grin, muttering into his lips. "Then we'll be even."

"Is that so?" he mumbles back. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to get on your nerves now."

"Oh god, please don't."

Wonwoo lets out a laugh — the sound warm and hearty.

"So, do we have a truce then?" he inquires.

"I suppose so," you answer. "Who knew all it would take for you to leave me alone is for me to fuck you?"

He grins. "A bit toxic of us, don't you think?"

"Probably," you reply with a shrug, dragging your hand down his torso, reaching for his belt and tugging at the buckle, making his eyes widen excitedly.

"But we can worry about that later."

taglist: @kyeomiis @hannieween @smiileflower @hanniebub

@luvseungcheol @escoupsue @shininghoshstar @coupsv

He had picked up your books, though. Once everyone was done laughing at the whole ridiculous spectacle and moved on, he’d grabbed your discarded books from the floor. A fat textbook and your cute binder with all the flower stickers and shit. Your name spelled out in swirly cursive pink pen on the front. So fucking cute, it made his insides hurt. Why the fuck did you have that effect on him?

“Is that your girlfriend?” One of the girls asks, looking at your name on his phone screen.

“You’re not getting paid to talk,” he growls, pushing her head down to his crotch. And he pretends it’s you, of course he pretends it’s you. With your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, crying and choking because he’s so big and you’ve never sucked cock before. And he’d coax you gently, stroke your hair back and tap your cheek condescendingly, tell you what a good girl you are for taking him like this. So brave and pretty, his good little girl. And you’d cry and cry, looking up at him with scared, devoted eyes…

He kicks the girls out the moment he’s finished with them. Tucks the cash into their underwear and sends them packing without another word. One of Ward’s friends had a high-end escort service. Rafe never really felt the need to indulge in it before, since he didn’t really have a problem hooking up with girls. But he’d been on edge and wanted a quiet distraction, a quick fix. It had not worked.

Rafe: Hey. I’m sorry about what happened the other day. I think we should talk.

His thumb hovers over the send button. He wonders if he’d be able to sweet-talk you into forgiving him. Because yes, he wants you to forgive him. He wants you to be his in every way possible, and to achieve that, he needs you to like him again. Fuck his friends and the stupid bet.

He sucks in his breath and presses down on send before he can stop himself. Waits one second, two, three, four, five. Heart lurches to his throat when an error message comes up:

Your message is unable to be delivered to the recipient.

White hot anger chokes him like a vice. You had blocked him. Fuck. Motherfucking shit.

Rafe’s always had issues with his anger. He couldn’t control it most times, and as a result he’d explode like a fucking volcano. He’d try to contain it, but the rage always found its way out. And he throws his phone across the room, where it crashes against the wall with a loud smack. How dare you fucking block him? How dare you? Who the motherfuck did you think you were?

Blindly, he searches his drawer for his coke. Hands shaking, he pours it out into a small heap and snorts it straight up, his heart already racing with an all-consuming rage. Fuck you for blocking him. Didn’t you know Rafe owned you? You were his property, and he had to have access to you whenever he wanted, however he wanted… He had to.

He makes a snap decision. Grabs your books and his keys, his actions fuelled by pure rage and drug-induced adrenaline. Stuffs his phone – now with a shattered screen – into his pocket and wipes any white residue from his nose. He was losing control of the situation. And that just wouldn’t do. He had to fix it. Now.

And Rafe wasn’t anything if not proactive.

Unfortunately, he runs into Ward on the way out.

“Rafe. We need to talk.”

“Not now, dad. I’ve got shit to deal with.”

Ward’s got a newspaper in his hands which he’s undoubtedly reading performatively, and he takes a moment before he folds it down on the kitchen island. “Shit to deal with, huh? Like trying to fuck every girl on the island?”

Rafe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not doing this right now.”

“I’ve got business partners, investors coming in and out of here. Doesn’t look great when there’s coked out hookers limping out of my son’s bedroom every other day.”

“Your business buddies all do the same shit, dad–”

“Yeah? Well I don’t give a fuck what they do. I’m talking about you. I’m trying to push a clean, family-man image here–”

Rafe snorts. Ward ignores him.

“You’re getting too old for this shit, Rafe. You’re graduating soon, then you’ll take over the family business. You need to get your shit together, find a nice girl and settle down.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He knows what’s expected of him. Knows his father wants him married sooner rather than later. Probably to some spoilt kook princess that he wouldn’t give two fucks about, a marriage built on connections and maximising power for the Cameron business. He figures being married wouldn’t be much different from being single. He’d still sleep around with the Pogue girls like he always did. But his mind’s too occupied by other things to really focus on this redundant conversation with his father.

“Look, dad, I have to be somewhere right now, so…”

“Who was that one girl you had over the other day? In the cute dress?”

Rafe stops short, feeling like he’s been injected with a dark, poisonous, all-consuming dose of sudden, icy-cold jealousy that winds him from the inside out. “What?”

“I was looking over the security footage. You had her on the patio. Cute, innocent looking girl. Now someone like that would be much better for your image, Rafe.”

Rafe’s jaw tenses, his fists clenched to his sides. He doesn’t want to react in front of his father, but it’s hard. The mere mention of you by another man – even if it was just his fucking dad – was making his blood boil. Boil in a way it never had before. He feels like choking someone the fuck out. Nobody was allowed to look at you. Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck had you done to him? Now he’s even more determined to fix things with you, have you safely under his wing again so he could protect you from the lecherous gazes of other men.

He leaves without another word.

He takes his motorbike. It’s his preferred method of transport anyways. Quicker, less attention drawn to him than when he’s in one of his big cars. And he deliberately leaves his helmet behind, needing to feel the air whip on his face. Maybe it would snap him out of whatever crazed spell you’d put him under. He feels like ripping his fucking hair out – how dare you fucking block him? He was your only friend.

Rafe’s feeling no less crazy when he finally pulls up to your street. If anything, he’s even more incensed. His girl. His property. And he’d lost you? All because of some stupid shit he’d said to his dumb idiot fucking friend group? Fuck them – it was all their fault for making up that bet. All their fault for badgering him for private pictures of you. Fuck them.

He’s still reeling with rage when he knocks harshly on your front door. Which is why he’s caught off guard when someone opens it immediately.

At first, he thinks it’s you. No, this woman looks older. Not much older, though. It’s your mother.

“Is everything alright? Can I help you?”

He forces himself to calm down, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Switches on the charm, smiles down at the woman who gazes at him with an unreadable expression.

“Hi. I’m Y/N’s friend from school. Is she at home?”

Your mother blinks, doing that thing that he knows people from The Cut do. Takes in his expensive clothes, the Rolex on his wrist, his signet ring that gleams in the afternoon sunlight. People like her looked at him often with clear disdain simply because of his family’s wealth and where he came from. It was a good thing Rafe did not care much for what a Pogue thought about him.

He tries again when she doesn’t immediately respond; “I’m very sorry to show up unannounced, ma’am. She left her books on campus and I thought I’d return them.”

Your mother clears her throat, “I’m sorry, she’s not at home right now. But you can give her books to me.”

Rafe hesitates, not wanting to give up your things just yet. “Where is she? When will she be back?”

“Who are you?”

He tells her his name, watching as her eyes widen slightly. That was the usual reaction he got. The Cameron name was well known in Kildare. His dad’s company – soon to be his – was global, but notoriously well known around the Outer Banks.

“Thank you for bringing my daughter’s things back, Mr. Cameron.” There’s an air of formality in her tone as she takes your books.

“That’s okay. When did you say she’d be back?”

There’s a long pause.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be seeing you.”

It takes him aback, the frank way in which your mother speaks. He feels shock, and then a wave of anger.

“Well, I think that’s up to her, isn’t it?”

Your mother’s jaw twitches, and she steps back slightly, inching the door closed as if shutting him out. He gets the message but does not care.

“Look. My daughter hasn’t been the same for the last few days and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s because she got involved with the likes of you.” She sounds cold, distant, almost resigned. “I don’t know you personally, Mr. Cameron, but I know people like you. And I know my daughter is sweet and unassuming. So please, leave her alone.”

It takes everything in him not to lose it. He knows it’s best not to get into it with your mother of all people, and yet he hates when people assume shit about him. Nobody knew him, least of all some nobody-Pogue from the Cut. He wasn’t like Topper and them, but he couldn’t expect this woman to know that.

He forces a smile, “Just returning her books, ma’am. I’m her only friend.”

“As I said, thank you for bringing her things back.” She sniffs, closing the door till it’s only open a crack, “But please stay away from my daughter. It would be best for you both.”

The door slams in his face.

He has to physically retreat before he kicks your fucking door in. Her fucking audacity. As if she didn’t fully understand who the fuck he was. One meeting and a deal is all it would take for Cameron Development to buy this fucking dump of a street where your house was situated in. He’d like to see her slam her fucking door on his face then.

He does that thing his therapist taught him, breathes in and out but it doesn’t calm him down in the slightest. Instead, he clenches his fists by his side, his blunt nails digging into his palms till he knows he’s drawn blood.

Before he really knows what’s doing, he makes his way to the back of your house where he knows your bedroom window is. But the curtains are drawn. Fuck. Were you actually not at home? Or was your mother lying? He bets she was lying. If only he could get to you–

“What are you doing here?”

Rafe whips around, heart lurching to his fucking throat because it’s you. Standing right there in front of him. And he almost can’t believe it. Out here in this seedy little street on the Cut, dressed in a pair of tiny denim shorts and a tank top. Face devoid of any emotion, stripped of any kind of makeup. Lips downturned and pouty, eyes narrowed yet still so big and pretty.

For a moment, you take his breath away.

“Go away, Rafe.”

Promptly, you turn on your heel. Well, you turn in your scuffed white converse, speed walking away from him faster than he can even wrap his head around what’s happening. You’ve got your earphones in, your arms crossed in front of your chest, going as fast as your legs can carry you. Down this dangerous fucking street, dressed like that.

Rafe catches up to you in two strides.

“Wait, I came to talk to you–”

“There’s nothing left to say… LET GO OF ME!”

You scream it so loud, he drops your hand like a hot coal. Taken aback by your fire, but he recovers quickly. Walks around till he’s facing you and blocking your path. Tries to catch your gaze but you look anywhere but at him. Your chest rises and falls, your lips pressed into a thin line as if your emotions are getting the better of you. He’s always seen you as pristine and perfect, but now you’re dishevelled, upset, won’t even look at him. Still so fucking beautiful though.

“I didn’t mean all those things I said, okay?”

You swallow harshly, “I’m not stupid, Rafe.”

“It’s my fuckin’ friends – hey, listen, it was my friends, okay?! They kept goading me about you. I had to say something to get them off my back.”

Finally, you meet his eyes. A look of incredulity on your face.

“You… You told everyone that you slept with me, Rafe! You lied! About everything!”

He sighs impatiently, running his hands through his hair, “I know, fuck, I know I lied, okay? But they kept asking. You need to understand that I only said those things to protect you.”

Silence. You just stare at him. He thinks he sees something break behind your eyes. That same look you’d had on your face when he’d locked eyes with you the last time he’d seen you on the campus courtyard. As if you’re looking at a stranger, and he hates it.

“I had to protect you, okay?” He repeats, trying to ignore how hollow and wooden his words sound, “they all want to sleep with you. I had to tell them I had, so that they knew that they couldn’t–”

You shake your head slowly, “Y-You can’t even accept responsibility for what you did…”

“Fuck, this is me accepting responsibility, don’t you get it?!”

He lowers his voice when you flinch. But he’s so fucking desperate, wants you to understand what he’s trying to say although even he doesn’t understand it. He feels fucking insane right now, and you’re seeing it all unfold first hand. “Look, I didn’t mean any of it. You need to understand that. Hey, hey don’t walk away from me!”

“I feel disgusting, Rafe!” You burst out. And he really sees you then, sees your face crumple up and yet you try to keep this false bravado, chin up, eyes blazing. “I-I trusted you. I did things with you that I… that I’ve never done before. And to think this whole time, it was all just a joke for you. I told you about my dad, and I told you all those things because this whole time I thought you genuinely wanted to be friends, and I trusted you.”

“You can still trust me–”

“No, I can’t! You were lying the whole time.” You swallow again, and through your glasses, he can see the tears welling in your eyes, “I was nothing more than a bet for you. And I… I can’t believe I fell for it, that I let you…”

Your voice breaks, and you wrap your arms around yourself, almost like you’re hiding your body from him. Like you can’t bear the thought of him even looking at you now, can’t bear the thought that you ever let him look at you. Makes him feel like a goddamned monster.

“I wish I’d never called you that night,” you whisper, “I wish I’d never let you see me like that. I wish I could… I wish…”

“You don’t mean that,” he reaches out, doesn’t know why but just wants to hold your arm, but stops himself when you flinch once more. You’re far away, lost in your own broken thoughts, and yet you step back when he tries to touch you. Like you’re scared of him, and it kills him, because you were the only one who wasn’t.

“I feel dirty,” you say, voice thick yet pitiful, “I-I feel like… Like I can’t get myself clean no matter how hard I try.”

It’s Rafe’s turn to swallow, and he’s got a huge lump in his throat, and it makes it harder for him to speak. Like there’s a boulder on top of his heart, weighing it down to the fucking pits of his stomach. Guilt and frustration like flames licking and growing inside him.

“You’re not dirty,” he says softly, wanting, willing you to look at him but you don’t. And he wants you to say something, anything. But you don’t. Like you’re done. And he can’t have that, he fucking can’t. The control is slipping out from under his fingertips, and it’s an all-consuming feeling that he hates.

“I like you,” he tries again, but he’s never been good with his fucking words. His mind’s screaming ten different things for him to say, brain feels like it’s about to explode with frustration because he knows no matter what he says, it won’t be the right thing. How could it be? When he’d done what he’d done and there was no way around it? “I never lied about that. It started out as a bet but I always liked you.”

“You don’t speak about someone like that if you like them.” You look defiant and deflated all at once, angry yet upset, those fucking lips of yours downturned in this crestfallen way that hits him straight in the chest. “I hate myself for being so stupid. Trusting you when all this time, you were probably just laughing behind my back, thinking I was beneath you because I’m just a Pogue.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, why can’t you just understand that I’m telling the goddamned truth?!”

He doesn’t mean to raise his voice. It just happens. It happens a lot with him, and he regrets it instantly when he sees your face morph in fear. Again, you flinch away from him, and he wishes to God you’d stop doing that. Stop being afraid of him because couldn’t you fucking see how insane you made him?

“S-Stay away from me,” you back away towards your house.

“Wait! Shit, I’m sorry, I– hey! Come back! Please, come back!”

You ignore him. Don’t even look back. In fact, you break into a run, as if you can’t stand being near him. And he can tell you’re crying in earnest now, with how your hands reach up and snatch your glasses off your face to blindly wipe away your tears. He calls out again, but his voice is lost in the wind. Fists clench to his sides again, and he hates how helpless he feels. The control he had, it’s dissipated like a cloud of fucking smoke and he hates it.

“Fine! Don’t fuckin’ listen!” He wants to punch something. The frustration of being unable to explain himself is slowly morphing into rage like how it often did. And he doesn’t know what to fucking do, and he’s trying to control his breathing, and he’s itching for a line, anything that’ll make him stop feeling whatever it is he’s feeling right now. “You think I can’t walk away from this shit too? Well, fuck you! I’m done too.”

Your front door slams shut. You don’t even look back once.

***

It’s a whole week before Rafe sees you on campus again. And in those seven days, he’s convinced himself that he doesn’t care. That you didn’t matter. That this was it. Whatever the fuck he’d thought he’d felt for you was clearly not real. And it never had been. He was just a fucking idiot who’d had a lapse in his judgement. Let a stupid Pogue fuck around with his feelings. Never again. Never fucking again.

And yet his heart skips a beat when he sees you. It’s been a whole week of you not showing up to classes, and a part of him had thought you’d transferred out. But there you are, bright and early on a fucking Monday morning. Books and binder clutched to your chest. In a blue top and matching skirt, looking every bit as cute as you always did.

For some reason, he’d half expected you to show up sad and forlorn, in a big hoodie or some other equally unflattering item that chicks wore when they felt depressed. Clearly not.

Rafe himself feels like shit and has all week. He’s got bags under his eyes and stubble he can’t be bothered to shave off. And he hates it, hates how he’s spent the past seven days at home, listlessly staring at his chat with you on his phone. Reading over your old messages again and again. Back when he still had control over what you thought of him. He also keeps staring at the pictures he took of you. He knows he should delete them but he can’t. You were his after all. He had every right to have those pictures on his phone. And you were so fucking hot…

“Look, it’s your little girlfriend,” Kelce snickers, and his entire group turn their heads in your direction. You’re trying your best not to make eye contact, quickening your pace as you speed-walk across the field.

It takes everything in him to keep his cool. “Change the fucking subject, man. If you know what’s best for you.”

They all straighten up, cough, look away. Like fucking clockwork robots responding to their puppet-master. They’d calmed down about the whole debacle, stopped begging for the pictures of you after Rafe had made it clear he wasn’t going to show them. Now, he just wanted to move on. Forget about it all. Pretend like he didn’t know you, just like he did with every other girl he fucked.

It was difficult, though. When you looked so fucking beautiful.

Rafe can’t help but try to meet your gaze, but you don’t look at him even once. And it incenses him. He knows he’s supposed to forget about you, discard and move on like he did with all the other girls he’d been with. And yet…

“Hey man, did you hear what I said? What do you think?”

Rafe blinks, forcibly peeling his eyes away, and trying his best to suppress the wild, innate desire to follow you, keep tabs on you, make sure he knows what you’re doing at all times.

Topper waves his hand in front of his face, “Rafe?”

His eyes narrow in irritation, “What?”

“The party. Saturday night. It’s at this abandoned beach house in the Cut. I’m pretty sure Sarah’s gonna be there, and–”

“No.”

Topper sighs, “I mean, I think you should go, man. There’ll be plenty of other Pogue girls there if you’re looking to hook up.”

The thought of that makes him sick.

“I’m not going to some Pogue-infested crack house on the Cut, Topper.”

“But I think the best way for you to get over her is to find someone else–”

“Get it through your thick fucking skull,” Rafe grabs him by the collar, a sudden rage coursing through his veins and he can’t even pinpoint why, “I’m not trying to get over shit, okay? There’s nothing to get over. Don’t fuckin’ project your shit on me just ‘cause you can’t get over my bitch of a sister.”

“Jesus Christ, alright!” Topper shakes him off, backing away and raising his hands in the air, “You shouldn’t speak about Sarah like that.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Everyone’s staring at him again. Like he’s the crazy one or some shit like that. Fuck them all. His nose twitches, and he wishes he’d brought some coke with him. But the last time he’d been caught on campus with drugs, Ward had to pay a shit ton of money for the faculty to forget it ever happened. Doesn’t help now, when he feels like he’s gonna implode. A part of him wishes he could go to you, because you’d make him feel calm and in control again. But that isn’t an option, and so he tries to control his breathing. He can’t.

Fuck.

Get you back or forget about you. Something had to give.

***

It’s on impulse, really. He doesn’t even remember doing it till it’s done. It’s after he’s spent a good twenty minutes lying on his bed and staring at your pictures on his phone. Fuck, you were so sweet and hot. He still remembers it, waking up next to you on your tiny pink bed, an assorted range of your stuffed animals surrounding you both. You, naked and in his arms. Right where you belonged. Sucking his thumb like you were his baby, and you trusted him with everything.

Before he realises what he’s doing, he orders a Chanel bag. A light pink one with a gold chain. Puts in your address so it can be delivered straight to you. He’d grown up with two sisters and a stepmother obsessed with shopping and designer labels, so he has an idea of what women like. And he’s used to girls from Figure 8, who’s love language was gifts and money. You were different, though, but he still can’t help himself.

He imagines you dripping from head to toe in gifts bought by him. Cute little designer dresses, all in pink or light blue or yellow or some pretty girly colour like that. Fur jackets and dainty, expensive jewellery. And he’d give you an allowance, hell he’d make you save his credit card details on your phone. And he’d pay for you to get your nails done, and your toes too. Pretty, gleaming white polished toes.

He’s jacking off now, picturing it so clearly in his head. He’d move you into his house, and you’d look at him with glowing eyes, so thankful that he’d saved you from the poverty you’d been so used to. And you’d be his little princess, draped in the gifts he’d shower you with. And in return, you’d let him do anything to you. Because you were his. Only ever his.

And he’d push you onto his bed, press your legs up against his chest while he fucked you so good and hard. Came inside you, filled you up till the brim, till his cum was leaking out of you. And even then, he’d push it back inside, stuff you so fucking full of him that you wouldn’t know how to act, and you’d cry and be confused. You’d beg him not to, but he’d do it anyways because he owned you. And if he knocked you up? Fuck, he wouldn’t even care because it would mean you’d be bound to him forever.

He cums at that last thought, the visual of it too fucking hot for him to even fully wrap his head around. High off the fact he’s bought something for you. It gives him a fucking power trip like no other. You were his. Completely and utterly his. He knows he’s supposed to forget about you but fuck it. Maybe, just maybe, he could buy his way back into your life.

It’s only two days later when he’s leaving his car in the campus parking lot that he feels a little tap on his shoulder.

“You can’t do things like this.”

It’s you. Looking all tiny and cute as ever, a fiery look on your face that’s about as intimidating as one of your stuffed animals. Your face that’s half hidden by the big Chanel box you’re carrying in your arms.

“Hello to you too.”

“You… You need to take this back.”

Rafe squints down at you, running a hand through his hair and trying to act nonchalant, “It’s rude to return gifts.”

You look genuinely upset. Distraught, even. It confuses him.

“I don’t want any gifts from you, Rafe. Why can’t you understand that I want nothing to do with you?”

Didn’t he know this would happen? He knew you weren’t materialistic like the girls he was used to. And yet he’d still done it. But at least you were speaking to him again.

“I thought you should have it,” he says. “I was thinking about you.”

“Stop. Don’t.” You swallow harshly, your chest rising up and down as if you have so much you want to say. “Please. Just take this back and leave me alone.”

I CAN’T! He wants to scream, but he knows he can’t risk scaring you away again.

“Take it as an apology,” he says, take a step closer to you except you instantly take a step back, a fearful look in your eye that he hates. “Look, I know I fucked up, okay? Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you whisper, “You lied, and now everyone thinks that we…” You gulp, pressing your lips together and trying to push the box into his arms, “My mom saw the bag. She-She thinks I’m sleeping with you in exchange for gifts.”

Rafe blinks, “Why would she think that?”

You gape at him incredulously, and he can’t help but think how cute and hot you look. All weepy and indignant, acting all upset but all it does is get him hard. The Chanel box is almost as big as you, and it makes you look even tinier. And you’re wearing this little buttercup yellow top trimmed with white lace. So fucking hot. He wants to grab you and push you into the backseat of his car. Lock the doors and have his way with you. Fuck you dumb, fuck that indignance straight out of you, till all you can say is thank you daddy for the pretty purse and the orgasm while you cuddle and cry into his chest.

When he doesn’t take the box back, you huff and drop it at his feet.

“I…I don’t care about expensive gifts, Rafe. And if you think you can just throw money at me and expect things to go back to how they were, then I guess we never really knew each other to begin with.”

Rafe sighs, reaches out to grab your wrist, “Look, wait–”

“D-Don’t touch me!”

There it is again. Don’t touch me. It’s the second time you’ve said that to him, and he watches as you flinch away from him again. Like you’re scared. Of him. And he fucking hates it so much, it’s like he can’t breathe.

“Wait–”

You scurry away without looking back at him even once. When all he can do is look at you. Like you’re a drug and he’s an addict. He can’t rip his gaze away. He feels so out of control of the situation, it makes his palms itch and his head hurt. He feels like throwing up. Like fucking punching someone. He wishes you’d just understand him, and he hates himself for not being able to explain himself to you. He’s so fucking obsessed with you, it’s insane.

How the fuck was he supposed to get over you?

***

His eyes follow you wherever you go. He memorises your schedule, your classes, everything. He doesn’t mean to, exactly. It just kind of happens. It’s like he has this innate need to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing. You’re his property after all, so it was only natural.

And Rafe watches you all the time. Whenever he can. He knows it’s unhealthy as shit, this growing obsession he has with you. But he’s been like this as long as he can remember. Hyper focusing on one thing until it consumed him completely. His dad’s approval. Drugs. Alcohol. You.

And you’re putting on a brave front, walking around campus acting like everything between you and him never even happened. But Rafe likes to think he knows you, despite only interacting with you for a week. He knows it’s all an act, and on the inside you’re feeling just as shitty as he is. He watches you smile, nod, hang around the outskirts of some Pogue girl group who barely pays you any attention. And it’s sick of him, but he likes how you don’t have any true friends. All you had was him, and he was hell bent on getting you back no matter what it took.

Which is why he feels this cold, numbing feeling of pure rage when he sees you leaving your last class of the day walking side-by-side next to a boy. Talking to him. Laughing with him.

Rafe’s hands curl into fists.

He doesn’t want you speaking to any other man. Even what looks to be some sorry ass Pogue nerd who’s in your class. No, you were his. You weren’t allowed to even look at another man unless he approved of it. What the fuck could this clown give you that Rafe couldn’t? Nothing. What the fuck.

He waits till you part ways with the boy and make your way out of the building. That’s when he grabs him by the shirt and slams him into a locker, not giving a fuck who sees.

“What the fuck?!” The boy struggles, but it’s extremely easy to overpower him. Rafe’s used to being bigger than most people.

“Shut the fuck up, Pogue. I just want to talk.” Rafe shoots him a wooden ass smile, although it’s taking everything in him not to punch the shit out of this fucking guy. As quickly as he’d grabbed him, he lets him go, straightening him up and smoothening his shirt while the boy stares at him like he’s insane. He’s used to that too.

“Why were you speaking to her?” He asks softly, keeping his tone cold and calculated.

“I don’t know what you’re taking about– OUCH!”

Rafe slams him against the metal lockers again before smirking, “Try again.”

The Pogue scrunches his eyes shut for a second before exhaling loudly through his nose. When he speaks, his voice shakes, “She’s in my class, man. We were put together for a project.”

“Mm,” Rafe’s thoughtful for a second, “You know who I am?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Who am I?”

When the kid doesn’t respond immediately, Rafe takes his head and slams it against the hard metal behind him. He cries out in pain, coughing with a stricken look on his face like he’s about to piss himself.

“You’re Rafe, OK?! R-Rafe Cameron! Please don’t hit me again!”

Rafe smiles, patting his cheek, “Relax, Pogue. You know who my friends are?”

“Yes!”

“Then you know you won’t speak to her again. You won’t even look at her again. Or else I’ll personally come after you. And my friends will too.”

“Look, I don’t know what this is about! We were just discussing our project, it’s worth a lot of credits–”

“You’ll do it yourself,” Rafe fixes the boy’s collar slowly, “You’re not going to say another word to her. If you do, I’ll know.”

The boy gulps, “O-Okay.”

Rafe smirks, patting the boy’s cheek again, “Good boy. And you let your pathetic little Pogue friends know too. She’s off limits to all of you. If any of you so much as look at her, I’ll personally break your fuckin’ legs myself. Got it?”

“Yes, I-I understand.”

Rafe lets the boy go before he pisses himself in fear. He knows the threat will be enough, and yet he still feels so fucking angry. Like he can’t believe you’ve found another man to talk to. He was supposed to be your only friend.

He hates this feeling of desperation that’s only heightening within him as the days go by. A pretty girl like you were bound to find someone else unless Rafe took action.

But what the fuck could he do?

***

He’s still stewing over it when he gets home that day. He’d threatened the kid but would it be enough to keep him away from you? Rafe bets that dumb fucking Pogue had requested to be partnered up with you, thought it’d be an easy way to get in your pants. He thinks back to you in all your cute, sexy outfits, flouncing around campus like you were a free piece of ass. Suddenly acutely aware of just how many men probably wanted to fuck you just like he did…

Over his dead fucking body.

In frustration, he whips out his phone and opens to your chat. He was still blocked. A wave of pure rage completely throttles him, and he throws his phone against his bedroom wall. Again. He’s surprised the damn screen doesn’t completely shatter from the impact.

You’re fucking losing it, he thinks to himself.

After snorting a few lines to calm his nerves (it doesn’t work) as well as downing half the bottle of Gray Goose that he’s got stashed under his bed, Rafe decides to pay you another visit.

“Rafe, we need to talk.”

He’s about to leave the house when Ward’s booming voice halts him. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Not now, Dad,” Rafe mumbles, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Yes, now. Come here, son.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, entering his father’s study. “Look, Dad. I need to be somewhere.”

“Yes, Rafe. You always need to be somewhere.” Ward is unperturbed as usual, stoic as he sits behind the grand desk of his study, barely even looking up from the papers he’s sifting through. “I don’t care where you’re going. But I need you to be here Sunday. I’ve got someone coming over to talk business.”

His ears perk up, “I get to sit in on a deal?”

“If you want. But he’s bringing his family over for brunch. He’s got a daughter your age whom I’d like for you to meet.”

Rafe loses interest immediately, not giving a fuck about whatever spoilt Kook slut his father was trying to set him up with this time. Instead, his mind wanders back to you again. He wonders what that slimy little dweeb in your class had said to you. Had you been impressed by him? Surely not, he couldn’t offer you what Rafe could. Why the fuck had you been talking to him? Laughing with him? God, he needs to see you now. Set the rules straight: you weren’t allowed to talk to any other man. He doesn’t give a shit if you’re mad at him, you’d still need to follow his rules, and–

“Are you listening to me, Rafe?”

“Mm.”

“I said it’s about time you settled down and got serious about your future. Cameron Development has always been a family-orientated business. There’s a certain image you need to build up and maintain, son.”

Ward drones on and on about “settling down” and “eventually starting a family” and some other bullshit along those lines. Rafe’s too busy thinking about you to listen. What if that stupid Pogue fuck didn’t listen to him? What if he was at your house right now? Using the excuse of “project work” to get close to you? In your bedroom? When the only one who’d been in your bedroom was Rafe, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Sure, Dad. Look, I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

He leaves, ignoring Ward shouting his name and calling him back. Usually, he’s pretty good with listening to his father but right now he couldn’t be fucked with it. He has bigger priorities to deal with.

And he knows he probably shouldn’t drive after he’s just inhaled half a bag of coke and chased it down with half a bottle of vodka. Which is why he takes his motorbike again, hoping the roads would be empty at this time of night.

He gets to your house in record time. He’s got the route memorised at this point.

He doesn’t bother with the front door. Knows if your mother answers, she’d probably call the cops on him or some shit like that. When really, she should be calling the cops on that dumb fucking pervert Pogue from your class.

He makes a beeline for your bedroom window at the back of the house. Luckily, your curtains aren’t drawn, and he can see inside. Your bed’s all made, pristine pink sheets with the same stupid stuffed animals arranged meticulously on your pillow. The memory of him on top of your naked body while you quivered underneath him is fast fading, which he hates. He can’t believe you still haven’t forgiven him. He’d give anything to have you look at him like that again, look at him with stars in your eyes as if he’s your saviour, your hero, your god.

“Leave me alone, okay?! Stop telling me what to do all the time!”

For a moment, Rafe thinks you’re talking to him. He steps back, allowing the sidewall to conceal him yet still having a perfect view through your window. You’ve got your back to him, dressed in this fucking insane pair of pink pyjama shorts that make your ass pop. You’ve got your hands on your hips, facing out your bedroom door.

“It’s that boy, isn’t it? Didn’t I warn you not to get mixed up with people like him?” Your mother’s voice.

“Why can’t you just trust me, mom? I’ve always done what you’ve asked, but it’s never good enough!”

You look so petulantly pretty, and it’s a side to you he’s never seen before. Sure, he’s seen you angry, hurt, upset. At him. But this is different. You seem… frustrated almost.

“You can’t afford to get distracted by boys who will just hurt you. You need to keep your head down and mind your own business.”

“That’s all I ever do!” You cry, stomping into your room and he gets a flash of your face, indignant and upset. “I just want to be normal, mom! I just want that normal college experience that everyone else talks about! And I want friends, I want freedom–”

“You’re too naïve.” Your mother appears in your doorway looking grim, “I don’t know what that boy did to you, but maybe now you’ll learn your lesson. Most people at that school are not your friends. You need to remember that, and be smart, and–”

“This isn’t about him!” You look helpless, as if you know whatever you’ll say won’t have any type of effect on your mother’s view. Rafe gets it, has that same problem with Ward. “I’m just so sick of being so good all the time. I hate that everyone thinks I’m so naïve, I-I wish I could show them I’m not.”

“You are.” Your mother says impassively. “And you will stay that way. I forbid you from talking to that boy or anyone like him.”

An incredulous pause, and then:

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

You slam your door shut and throw yourself on your bed, crying your little eyes out into your pillow. And admittedly, it touches him a little bit. How sweet and soft you look, crying like that with such abandon. Thinking no one’s watching you, thinking no one understands you. Well, Rafe does. And ironically enough, he feels like he’s the only one who could comfort you when you’re like this.

And, despite how sick it sounds, a part of him likes how you’ve fought with your mother. If anything, that distance would only make you more likely to fall back into Rafe’s arms. As long as he was patient and bided his time.

Patience, however, has never been his strong suit. But even in his drunk and high current state, he knows that making his presence known to you right now probably wouldn’t be the best idea. You look equal parts upset and angry, if he added himself to that mix you’d definitely bite his head off. He’d find it hot though, but nevertheless…

He leaves, feeling slightly better. He doesn’t even fully understand why. Maybe it’s because he’s seen you now, and you’re not doing project work with that worm from your class. In fact, he’s not on your mind at all, which was reassuring. Or maybe it’s because the fight with your mother meant you’d slowly come back to him.

Maybe.

***

“Hey Rafe, you spoken to your girl lately?” Topper asks him the following day on campus.

Rafe frowns, “Why are you asking me that?”

Topper shrugs, looking oblivious and gormless as usual, “I don’t know, just asking.”

“Well, don’t.” He doesn’t like when other men talk about you, including Topper. Lately, he’s gotten a lot more paranoid about who’s watching you, who wants to fuck you. Which, he guesses, is most likely every male at this college. Makes him even more eager to publicly claim you, make it be known that you weren’t up for grabs. Sure, his friends knew better than to talk to you or look at you, but he wanted everyone to know. And he didn’t have time to go around personally threatening any man who looked at you.

“Look, there she is now.”

Topper cleanly points at you. Rafe slaps the back of his head and shoots him a dirty look.

“Don’t fucking do that.”

You’re standing on the fringes of that one Pogue girl group that you hang around with sometimes, pretending like they’re your friends. The same ones you were standing with the first time he’d ever seen you. And that was weeks ago, and yet your friendship with them hasn’t seemed to progress. They still ignore you, and you still stand there like you know you don’t fit in, but you try your hardest anyways.

“So anyways, it’s gonna be at this abandoned beach house.”

“Yeah, and Brittney, it’s still OK if we all get ready at your place, right?”

Their stupid chatter doesn’t interest him. But then you speak up.

“What’s happening at the abandoned beach house?” You ask politely, like you’ve rehearsed the line a million times in your head to make sure it comes out right. Tinged with nervousness, afraid they might ignore you as if you hadn’t even spoken.

There’s silence for a beat or two, and Rafe doesn’t miss how some of the girls smirk and exchange looks before one of them answers.

“It’s a party. We would’ve told you but… well, we know you probably wouldn’t be allowed to go.”

“Oh.” Hurt clouds your features for a moment before you force a smile, “I-I’d be allowed to go.”

One of the girls raises an eyebrow, “Really? You? Have you ever even been to a party before?”

They all burst into giggles. You join in too, despite the fact they’re all laughing at you and he bets you know it.

“I have.” You say, sticking your chin up so cutely. And Rafe knows you’re lying through your teeth, and wonders why you feel the need to impress these stupid Pogue sluts who were clearly being mean to you because they were jealous. Couldn’t you see that?

“Okay, well, then you should come too,” one of the girls says, her lips quirking up into a smirk, “Although I doubt Rafe Cameron’s gonna be there, if that’s why you want to go.”

Your face morphs in disgust, “I…I… No, I don’t care about him. I should’ve listened to you guys, you were all right about him.”

Stupid Pogue whores, spreading lies about him to you as per usual.

“Well, we warned you.” One of the girls says, looking like she’s about to burst into a fit of laughter, “But I guess you got a bit overexcited, and thought he was giving you attention because he actually cared about you.”

“Which he doesn’t,” another one chimes in, “I mean, let’s make that clear.”

You giggle nervously, but he can tell you’re hurt.

“Yeah, I mean no offence to you, you’re just so sweet and innocent,” one girl pats you on the shoulder condescendingly, “He probably went for you because he knew you’d be an easy target.”

“No offence,” another one emphasises, although the smirks they all exchange say otherwise. “But yeah, you should totally come to the party on Saturday. We’ll take care of you.”

It’s when they’ve all dispersed and you’re on your own, that he corners you before he can stop himself.

“You shouldn’t go to that party.”

You stare up at him in disbelief, “Get away from me, Rafe.”

“It’s not the type of place for someone like you.”

“Someone like me,” you echo, a cloud of hurt crossing your features for a split second before you cover it up with a brave attempt at a glare, “Y-You don’t know me.”

“I do. And those girls are not your friends.”

“Stop.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“They didn’t lie to me and pretend to be my friend,” you hug your books close to your chest like they’re a fucking shield against him or something, “that was you.”

You say it so quietly, in such a resigned way that it kills him. And then you turn and leave, and again you don’t even look back once. And he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He doesn’t waste time in texting Topper after that.

Rafe: Send me the location of that party.

***

Rafe fucking hates the Cut. Disgusting place filled to the brim with disgusting people. For the life of him, he doesn’t understand how Sarah had chosen this life over Figure 8. The beach house – if it could even be called that – is all rotting wood and peeling floorboards. And yet the Pogues here were acting like it was some kind of VIP beach club and the party of the century. Fucking losers.

Topper is all smiles, though. Scanning the crowd for Sarah and her little Pogue group. Rafe’s already surveyed the whole sorry property for you, but you weren’t here. And a part of him is relieved, because maybe you’d taken his advice after all. He’d give it another fifteen minutes before leaving.

“You think Sarah decided not to come or something?” Topper asks, plopping down on the couch next to Rafe and handing him a beer.

“Do I look like I know what goes on in her head?”

“Jesus, man. It was just a question.”

“You both need to get a grip,” Kelce leans forward, a scantily clad girl already in his lap and a drink in his hand, “There’s too much fresh meat here for you to still be hung up on anyone else.”

“I’m not hung up on shit,” Rafe seethes.

“Prove it, bro.”

“Shut up before I knock you the fuck out.” He’s not in the fucking mood for this bullshit. The girls here all looked like typical Pogue sluts. Of course, you wouldn’t be here. Either you’d come to your senses, or he’d gotten through to you, or hell, your mother probably didn’t give you permission.

The music is loud and pulsating, making the creaking floorboards vibrate. This beach house might have been considered luxurious once upon a time – by 1960s standards probably – but now it lies in complete desolate disrepair. With way too many sweaty bodies filled to the brim inside. Rafe can’t believe he made the mistake of coming here.

He’s getting up to get the fuck out of here, and that’s when he spots you at the entrance.

And he almost doesn’t recognise you. Yet at the same time, it’s like his heart does because it does this weird fluttery shit the moment he sees you. Walking through the door with that Pogue girl group, except you stand out from them in so many ways, and he knows he’s not the only man in the room who notices.

You’ve got some smoky black shit on your eyes. That’s the first thing he sees, because you’ve never done that kind of makeup before, and you’re not wearing your glasses either. It looks… different. Still so fucking hot, though. Like black eyeshadow smeared over your eyes in the sluttiest way, and your cheeks tinted this sexy, flushed pink with glitter. Lips glossy and berry-coloured, lined with something darker – something else you’ve never done before.

And your dress. It makes him clench his beer so hard he’s surprised the bottle doesn’t shatter. It’s the sluttiest thing he’s ever fucking seen, and it’s almost like the sluttiness of it is amplified because you’re the one who’s wearing it. And he’d never pictured you dressing like this, he didn’t think you could or ever would. In his head, you were the perfect picture of innocence in your cute pastels and flowery prints.

But this. It’s like you’ve taken a dress from your mother’s closet and cut it as short as you possibly could, and he can tell that’s what you’ve most likely done, because the bottom looks slightly frayed, like it’s been cut last second with a pair of kitchen scissors. Barely reaches the bottom of your ass, and it makes him want to audibly growl. Make his way over to you and tug it the fuck down, and then drag you out of here for daring to look so slutty.

You look like you’re cosplaying as a goddamned whore.

But it’s still you. And he can’t tear his eyes away. Like you’re so fucking compelling, so different from any other girl in here. Like there’s a spotlight on you and just you, and you look so deliciously uncomfortable. Like you know you don’t belong here, like you know this dress and that makeup just isn’t you, and yet you smile and try and act confident. But he knows you. He knows you better than anyone here.

“Who the fuck is that?” Some guy Rafe doesn’t know whistles loudly, “Never seen her before.”

And suddenly, it’s all around him. The whole fucking room buzzing as if they all see you like how he sees you. Like every man in here has his eyes on you and solely you. Like you’re some type of fresh meat, a beautiful girl who looks innocent enough to manipulate into hooking up with, despite what you’re wearing.

He’d beat the shit out of anyone who tried.

For a moment, he just watches. Watches as you follow your little girlfriends into the kitchen. To the counter where all the booze is. He notes how your eyes widen, how you take a deep breath before smiling and accepting a drink some fucker offers you. And Rafe’s hands are shaking with rage.Half of him wants to cause a scene right the fuck now, let everyone know who the fuck it is you belong to.

But he knows it would be best if he kept his cool. Figured out what to do in a calm and calculated manner.

“Sarah’s still not here,” Topper’s whining snaps him out of his rageful thoughts.

Kelce groans, “Man, stop talking about Sarah for just two seconds. There’s so many other options here, you know how easy these Pogue sluts are.” He snickers, “Rafe definitely knows.”

“Shut up.” Rafe says warningly, his eyes still locked on you.

“Bro, just get on top of another one to get over the first one. They’re all the same anyways–”

“Shut the fuck up, there’s nothing for me to get over.” He doesn’t know how many times he has to tell his friends that.

Kelce shrugs, “If you say so.”

He knew so. And yet, it doesn’t stop him from making his way over to you, pushing past the crowd and not missing how he’s definitely not the only one staring at you right now.

“That’s some dress.”

He comes up behind you, and you jump despite him making a conscious effort not to touch you. Your eyes widen, but he thinks he detects a brief flicker of relief, as if you’re happy to see a familiar face.

“R-Rafe, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I came with my friends.” You gesture loosely, but it’s clear as day your little girl group has already dispersed without a trace, all but throwing you to the wolves. “Uh, I think they went to the bathroom or something.”

Rafe snorts, but the look on your face pulls at something inside of him, makes him want to just grab your hand and take you back home and keep you happy in a way he knows only he could. If you’d let him. But then it’s like he can’t stop himself:

“Well, homeschool, I barely recognised you in this little outfit. Maybe your friends don’t either.”

You blink up at him with black-rimmed eyes, and he sees a flash of hurt glimmer within them. And he wishes he hadn’t said it, sees how you shrink in within yourself, step back and cross your arms over your chest protectively. Tug your dress down except it’s so short it didn’t even matter.

“Homeschool,” you repeat softly “I used to think you called me that as like a cute nickname. Now I know you were just making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t. Look, I–”

“Please, just leave me alone.” You try to push past him.

“I’m surprised you were allowed out of the house in that. You’re a walking target here with a dress that short,” He moves to block your path.

“Well, it’s a good thing I can take care of myself!”

“Yeah? How’re you gonna do that when you can’t even see? With all that black shit smeared all over your eyes?”

He wants to kick when he sees the hurt on your face. It’s like he’s so used to being the asshole version of himself that everyone knew him as, like it’s so easy to slip that mask back on now that things aren’t going his way. Fuck, why couldn’t you just give in and stop fighting him?

“I can take care of myself.” You repeat, although your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers.

“You can’t do shit dressed like that,” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration, “Look, trust me, this party sucks. Just let me take you home.”

You push past him without another word, and it fucking angers him so bad he wants to punch the goddamned wall. Instead, he watches you with dark eyes as you weave through the crowd. How naïve of you to think you could take care of yourself. When every single man in here was staring at you like you were some hot fucking commodity. Well, he was officially done trying to help you out.

“What’re you doing here, Rafe? Thought this was beneath your country club ass.”

Rafe watches you join back up with your girl group before forcibly turning away, “Barry. Tell me you got some shit on you right now.”

“Is that how you say hello to all your friends?” Barry grins, “You look like shit by the way.”

“You obviously do have some, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“You sound like an addict, country club.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, looking beyond Barry’s shoulder at you sipping on another drink. Who’d given you this one? How many had you had? Jesus fucking Christ, was he going to keep tabs on you all night? He felt like he had to, and it’s putting him on edge.

“Who’re you lookin’ at?”

“None of your business,” Rafe snaps, “Just…Please, if you have anything on you.” He wants to snatch the drink from your hand, scold you for accepting drinks from anyone that wasn’t him. Instead, he watches helplessly as you sip it, scrunching up your nose all cutely because he bets it tastes awful. Like cheap liquor and dollar store soda.

“She’s cute,” Barry says.

“Shut up.”

“Her brothers would kick her ass if they knew she was here.”

That catches his attention, “You know her?”

“I know her brothers.” Barry snickers, patting him on the shoulder, “You might be a little out of your depth with this one, country club.”

Rafe doubts it. Pogues did not intimidate him in the slightest, and he doubts your brothers would be any different. Hell, they could be military-trained mercenaries and it wouldn’t stop him from making you his.

“I wasn’t out of my depth when I fucked her.” It comes out before he can stop himself. He just needs Barry to know. Hell, he needs everyone here to know. Even though it’s technically a lie, but he may as well have fucked you with how close he got.

Barry whistles lowly, “And yet here she is, clearly unclaimed.”

Rafe clenches his fists, eyes trained on you once more. He’d looked away for barely a minute and now you’re surrounded by men. Like a bunch of sorry ass losers vying for your attention, and it’s like you don’t even know how to react to it. You keep looking down, opening your phone, sipping your drink, pulling at your dress. Smiling awkwardly. Reaching up to adjust your glasses before realising you’re not wearing them. Fuck, you were so cute. So different from all the other girls and so fucking cute.

“Hey country club, do all the girls you fuck act like they don’t know you?”

“Don’t fuck around with me, man. I’m not in the mood.”

He runs a hand through his hair, watching like a hawk as you tug your dress down again. God, the way it hugged your ass was insane. You look so fucking hot, and despite the less than stellar interaction he’s just had with you, he still can’t help but think of fucking you. In that slutty fucking dress, but he’d push it up to your waist, rip your panties off and pocket them before jackhammering his cock inside you with such force just so you’d know never to wear something like that in public again. Maybe he’d drag you to his car, maybe one of the rooms upstairs. Or maybe right here in front of everyone while you cried because you were shy but he wouldn’t give a fuck because he’d be showing you who you belong to.

Maybe that’s what you wanted, maybe that’s why you’d dressed like this.

Barry pulls out a baggie, “You wanna push this to your preppy crowd?”

Rafe snatches it up quickly, “Sure, whatever.”

Just then, he sees you being cornered by some idiot who’s talking all animatedly with you, pushing you away from your friends, clearly trying to get you alone. Rafe sees red, pushing Barry aside and making a beeline for you.

“Hands off, asshole.” He seethes, physically putting himself between you and the guy.

The guy raises an eyebrow, “What are you, her bodyguard?”

“Meet me outside and I’ll show you exactly who the fuck I am.” Rafe grabs the guy’s shoulder when he tries to leave, “No, no, where you going, pussy? Come outside with me.”

“Rafe, stop! You’re acting insane.”

Your voice cuts through all the other noise, and the guy takes that moment to scurry away into the crowd like a little rat.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, fuckin’ pussy ass bitch.” Rafe barks out a hollow laugh before turning back to you. “Are you okay?”

“Why did you do that, Rafe?!.”

He scoffs, “Are you kidding me? He had his hands all over you.”

“No, he didn’t! And even if he did, I could’ve handled it.”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Were you deliberately being obtuse just to make him out to be the bad guy again?

“Just stick with your girlfriends. You shouldn’t be talking to these kinds of men anyways.”

You look up at him indignantly with engorged pupils, clearly already half tipsy when you’d barely had a drink or two, “Stop it. Please. You’re not my dad!”

That’s not what you were saying when I was in your bed, he wants to shoot back spitefully. Instead, he rolls his eyes, “I’m the only one here looking out for you.”

“And I’m telling you; I don’t need you to do that. I can look after myself so just leave me alone, okay?”

“Stop trying to be something you’re not,” Rafe hears himself say, gesturing loosely at your body, “This… This shit isn’t you.” 

Again, hurt flashes across your face. 

“You don’t know me, Rafe. You never did and you never will.”

You push past him and rejoin your girlfriends and whatever group of men they’re talking to. Making him look like a gormless fucking chump when he’s the one who was trying to save you. Well, fuck you too then.

That’s how he finds himself back with his friends, at a table snorting up line after line like it’s his fucking job. It’s a distraction really, from all the conflicting thoughts swimming around in his head. Fuck you, protect you, forget about you. You, you, you. He needs this escape. He needs to stop thinking completely.

“Some for me?” a girl sinks down on his lap, her cleavage right in his face. He feels numb to everything, barely even registers her. But nods anyways, pours out a neat line for her. She’s all over him after that, but it’s like a blur to him. The music, lights, this girl’s lips on his, his friends cheering him on. He bets this slut would let him fuck her right here on this couch in front of everyone. And what was stopping him?

She’s pressing kisses down his neck, her hands up his shirt when he opens his eyes almost on intuition. Looks straight across the room and locks gaze with you. The shock is frozen on your face for just a moment or two, before you quickly look away.

The mask was truly off now. You knew who he really was.

Forcibly, you turn away from him. And he wants to look away too, just fuck this girl to forget all about you. But then he sees you bump straight into the chest of someone else. Some stupid fucking punk ass Pogue, different from the other one. More intimidating, larger too. He grins at you, his hand pressing down on your lower back. And it plays like slow motion in front of Rafe’s eyes, and he feels like someone’s put his heart through a fucking shredder.

He pushes the girl off him, gets to his feet. The guy’s talking to you now, talking to you like he knows you. Rafe’s hands shake; he balls them into fists. Shoves his way through the crowd of bodies, keeping his eyes glued on you. The drugs in his system have made him a bit sluggish, but he can still make out the two of you, how the guy’s got you cornered against the wall now. He sees you laugh nervously, and the punk tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

That’s when Rafe sees him start moving you. Towards the stairs. And he sees your face twist in fear; sees you swallow and try to act brave. Sees you looking around for your friends but they’ve ditched you again. The guy’s gripping you tightly by the arm, no doubt sweet talking as he pulls you up the stairs. Rafe sees your chest rise and fall rapidly; sees you try and talk your way out of it. But he also knows how men think, knows how much stronger they are, and the guy keeps pushing you up the stairs.

Rafe feels like he’s a million miles away. By the time he gets to the stairs, the two of you are long gone. There’s this tightness in his chest, and it won’t go away. He pushes people out of the way, takes the stairs two at a time. Gets to the first-floor landing and grabs some fucker by the shirt.

“Where’d they go? The girl in the black dress and the guy?”

“What the hell!? I don’t know!”

He throws the guy aside, stumbles into the first door that opens. Empty. Then the second. Not them. Fuck.

He finds you behind the fourth or fifth door he throws open. And it’s almost like an out of body experience. He’s not sure he’s ever felt such visceral rage before. The guy’s got you up against the wall, trying to kiss you. His hands all over you. Your tiny fists trying to push him off, and for a split-second Rafe feels like his chest is about to explode.

He doesn’t think before he throws him off you.

“What the fuck, man?”

“Get out.”

The guy snorts, “How about you get out? We were in the middle of something.”

Rafe’s not in the mood to fuck around. He looks at you, sees you sniffle, readjust your dress. Your face is usually expressive, but he can’t read it now. And usually, beating up on Pogues like this guy is an amusing pastime for him, maybe even a hobby. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with it, a certain rush of adrenaline. But one look at you, and he knows now isn’t the time for that.

“Get out. I won’t ask you again.”

The guy – all tattoos and burly chest – chuckles, tries to grab you again, “I ain’t leaving bro. Hell, you can stay too if you wanna watch.”

That’s when Rafe pulls his gun out.

You gasp. The guy stops short. Holds his hands up.

“Hey, c’mon man, it’s never that serious–”

“You don’t want me to ask again.” Rafe points the barrel straight at him. The coke’s coursing through his veins, pumping through his blood. He’s never entered the Cut without his gun, and in the state he’s in right now, he’d risk getting thrown in fucking jail because he can’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t shoot this fucking pervert right now.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” The fucking pussy leaves quickly after that. Once he’s gone, Rafe tucks the gun into the back of his waistband. He feels completely calm in the moment. Eerily so, but he knows it’s that certain type of calm that only comes before a storm.

He locks eyes with you, and there’s a moment of absolute silence. All he can hear is your shallow breathing, short and rapid. Glistening eyes looking up at him in what he could only describe as fear. Or reverence. He can’t tell, and it bothers him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s trying so hard to keep his voice level, but it almost shakes with anger. Anger at the situation, at what he’s just seen. Anger at that punk that he knows, he knows, he’s gonna take out on you.

You swallow, “I…I…”

“You realise what the fuck would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here?” He takes one step towards you, for once not giving a fuck when you flinch. “I know you’re innocent but you can’t be that fucking stupid.”

Hurt flashes across your face, “I could’ve taken care of myself–”

“You wouldn’t have been able to do shit.”

You shake your head, “Yes, I could! I can handle myself just fine, and my friends knew I was up here, they saw me, so they would’ve come–”

He stares, incredulous as it dawns on him just how naïve you actually were, “they’re not your fucking friends.”

“Neither are you!”

“I saved you.”

Your face crumples up like a piece of paper, your chest rising up and down. Like you’re trying your hardest not to burst into tears, “I’m not some naïve little girl who needs saving, Rafe.”

“Yeah? Is that what you were trying to prove tonight?”

“No! I wasn’t trying to prove anything, I just… I just…” your lower lip quivers, and yet you still will yourself not to cry, “I’m just… I’m not naïve, okay? I’m not some stupid little girl that men just... take advantage of.”

He runs his hand through his hair, “Do you even realise what you’re saying? He was going to take advantage of you.”

“I wouldn’t have let him!” Your eyes are wet with tears, and it’s smudging the black makeup, making it smear and run and you look so hauntingly beautiful like this, “Not how I let you.”

And there it was. It all came back down to Rafe. He was always the bad guy in everyone’s eyes, even yours. Even after he’d saved you. He was evil, through and through – isn’t that what he always knew deep down? Isn’t that what his father saw when he looked at him? And his stepmother? And Sarah? Even now, you look scared like a little fucking mouse. Scared of him, and not the fucker who’d just tried to force himself on you. It was always Rafe who was the villain in everyone’s story, no matter how hard he tried to protect them.

“I stopped.” Rafe steps closer, knowing you’ve got the wall behind you and nowhere to run, “I stopped when you asked me to. He wouldn’t have.”

“You lied about everything.”

He remains silent, not wanting to rehash this shit with you right now. Instead, he closes the gap between you both, pressing you against the wall. You push against his chest, but it’s ineffectual. He needs to touch you, lay claim on you. It’s like an innate, animalistic desire to mark his territory after that fucker’s had his hands all over you.

“G-Get away from me.”

“No.”

“Rafe. Don’t.”

You’d already made up your mind that he was the bad guy, no matter what he said or did. And it would be so easy to be the villain you clearly thought he was.

Gently, he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You gulp, half-heartedly attempt to bat his hand away when it lands on your hip.

“He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“I could’ve gotten away–”

“Nobody else is allowed to touch you.” He says it quietly, but he knows you’ve heard him.

Your eyes widen, “R-Rafe–”

“Only me.”

His lips press against yours in a kiss so possessive, it almost knocks you off your feet. But he’s got you, holding you steady and pressing you against the wall with all his weight. And he’s dreamed of this moment, dreamed of kissing you again. And your lips are so soft, so perfect, exactly how he remembered. Yet all he can think of is making you forget that other man had ever even touched you. His tongue is in your mouth, claiming you like he’s swallowing you whole from the inside out. And he’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger that he doesn’t even notice or register if you’re trying to push him off. It’s ineffectual, irrelevant. He needs this. Needs you to know you’re his.

“Stop!” You finally manage to push him off you, and your lips already looked bruise from his kiss. Bruised and so fucking pretty. Another mark of him on you.

He’s staring at your lips when you slap him hard across the face.

Immediately, your face crumbles, like you’re horrified at what you’ve done.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m… I’m–”

You burst into tears. Like waterfalls flowing down your cheeks. You reach up to blindly wipe at your face, smearing your black eyeliner all over your eyes. And he just watches you, the sting of your ineffectual little slap already fading. Watches how you sob, how your whole body shakes. Watches as your wild eyes look somewhere beyond him. At the mirror in the corner side of the bedroom. Watches you stare at your reflection like you’re looking at a stranger.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you whisper like it’s a confession, but more to yourself than to him. “I-I don’t know who I am, I don’t… I don’t…”

In that moment, he sees something broken inside you. Something he’d never seen before. Maybe it wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s only here now. Maybe he was the one who’d broke you. The thought makes him sick to his fucking stomach.

Rafe hoists you up, slings you over his shoulder without another word. You pound against his back.

“No, no, let me go! Let me go!”

He ignores your cries. All he knows is that he needs to get you out of here. You didn’t belong in a place like this. You were too soft, too sweet to be corrupted. He had to save you again, even if he was the villain in your eyes.

He carries you out the bedroom, past the landing, down the stairs. Everyone stares; he doesn’t give a fuck. He weaves through the crowd of writhing bodies, the pulsating music drowning out your cries. One of his hands firmly holding your dress down over your ass while you wiggled and squirm against him.

He only puts you down when he’s got you outside in the back where his car’s parked. It’s a hot summer night, sticky and humid. The stars look huge, almost like they’re weighing down on his shoulders. And reflecting in your eyes, making them shine with indignance and that fierceness he’s only recently learnt you possess.

“Get in the car.”

Incredulously, you shake your head, “I’m going back to my friends.”

“Don’t fuck with me right now. Get in the car.”

You try to storm past him, but he’s already so much quicker than you. The copious amounts of coke he’s snorted tonight paired with the pure adrenaline and determination of wanting to get you out of here makes you no match for him. You, in your heels which you weren’t used to walking in, and that tiny, tight fucking dress. Fuck, he needed you out of here. Now.

Your lips press into a thin line, and your eyes look so big as you stare up at him pleadingly, “I can’t, Rafe. Please. I can’t go with you.”

His face softens, “I’m gonna take you home.”

“I don’t trust you.”

His jaw tenses. I FUCKING SAVED YOU! He wants to scream. Instead, his features grow stoic, the mask slipping back on.

“I don’t care if you don’t trust me. You’re not going back in there. You should’ve never gone to a party like this to begin with.”

“I can handle myself–”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, don’t start with that again. You can’t handle shit, okay? I handled shit back there. God knows what would’ve happened to you if it weren’t for me.” He grabs your wrist, ignoring your sharp intake of breath and yanking you back towards his car. He opens the door, tries to push you inside.

It’s when you’re fighting against him that he realises how drunk you are. God knew how many cheap drinks you’d been given tonight, and you’d been polite enough to accept all of them. Probably thought drinking them would help you fit in better, socialise easier. And now your movements are sluggish, slow, erratic.

He easily throws you into the backseat of his car, child locking the doors so you don’t escape.

He half expects you to launch yourself at him the moment he gets into the driver’s seat. But surprisingly, you’ve gone quiet. Gathered yourself in the corner at the back, hugging your legs with your face buried between your knees as you sobbed to yourself.

And there are so many things he wants to say, now that he’s finally got you alone. But it’s like there’s something lodged in his throat, and he doesn’t know what to say or how to even speak. He’s angry, concerned, buzzing from everything that’s just happened. Silence ensues, with just the gentle hum of the car as he drives into the night.

He pulls up to the now familiar dirt road that is your street and unlocks the doors. Waits a handful of seconds, surprised you don’t immediately jump out of his car. Instead, he watches silently through the rearview mirror as you rummage drunkenly through your little purse.

“I, uh, I don’t have my keys.”

“What?”

“I must’ve dropped them at the party… your voice trails off before you clear your throat, “It’s okay, I’ll just–”

“Your mom can’t let you in?” Although Rafe bets your mother would have a fucking heart attack if she saw you being dropped off in his car.

 You swallow, “She’s not at home. She’s… working.”

For the whole night? This was the second time your mother was away from home for the entire night. He wonders what exactly she does for work.

You sit up and open the door, jumping out of the car and immediately teetering in your heels. You were still very drunk, and it shows. Rafe sighs, getting out too.

“You got a spare key under the doormat or something?”

You hold on to the side of his car to regain your balance, blinking rapidly. Your pupils are so dilated, he can see his own reflection in them. And in that moment, it’s like all the frustration and anger he’s feeling at you for how stupid and naïve you’d been tonight, it’s it all dissipates because of how cute and lovely you look in the moonlight. Drunk and fumbling and innocent and away from that party.

“I… I think I’ll just camp out on the porch. The sun should rise soon…”

Rafe stares at you as if you’re deluded. It was only a little past midnight; the sun wasn’t going to rise for a while. And even if it was, there was no way he was leaving you out here in the open on this seedy little street on the Cut.

 “Get back in the car.”

Of course, you choose now to be stubborn again, “N-No! I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? I know the kind of people that crawl around out here at night. Get in the car.”

You stick your chin out, “Stop trying to help me, Rafe! I’ve lived here all my life, I know what I’m doing–”

He hauls you back into the car. It isn’t too hard, considering how much smaller you are than him. Weaker. Drunk, too. You try to fight against him again, but not too much. Like you know making a scene right now wouldn’t be the best thing to do.

“Where are we going?” You ask timidly once he’s revved the car back up and driven off your street.

“My house.”

You don’t say anything and for once, he’s glad.

*

Tannyhill looms big and shadowy in the moonlight. Rafe watches you gape drunkenly, probably drinking in how big it is just like you had the first time he’d brought you here. You’d remained quiet for most of the drive here, just staring sorrowfully down at your shoes. Once or twice, he’d caught your eye through the rearview mirror, but you’d looked away every time.

“Wait.” He orders before getting out of the car. He opens the door for you and hoists you up into his arms. He means to put you down on your feet, but decides to just carry you. And by some miracle, you let him. And he can’t make sense of this hot and cold behaviour, how all night you’ve been switching between two different characters. Loud, outspoken, angry, not letting him touch you, to then soft, docile, weepy and innocent.  

“I’m scared,” you confess quietly, your pupils dark, glassy and shining in the moonlight. You’re just laying limply in his arms now, as he carries you down the cobblestone driveway of Tannyhill.

“You’re just drunk.”

“No I…” You twist your face to look up at him, and he feels it, so he meets your gaze, “I’m scared of you, Rafe.”

It hits him like a bullet, but he ignores it. Buries it down, deep down in the recesses of his mind where he buried all the other shit. Like his dad not loving him, like the memories of his mother. Buried deep down and abandoned, because he couldn’t deal with that shit. He can’t. You weren’t supposed to be afraid of him. He had saved you.

He doesn’t say anything, expects you to fall back into whatever drunk stupor you’ve been drifting in and out of.

“I didn’t know you had a gun.”

Hadn’t he known you were going to bring that up? He’s surprised it’s taken this long, but he can still remember the frozen shock and fear on your face when you’d seen him point his gun at that guy.  

“You don’t know a lot of things.”

He waits for you to bring up the other things you’d seen him do tonight. All the drugs, or maybe the girl he’d been kissing in front of you. In fact, he half hopes you bring up the second part because it would show that you’d cared, that it had affected you.

But you don’t say anything else, just stare off into the distance. And yet you’re still allowing him to carry you, you’re not trying to get away from him despite being scared. He doesn’t want to cling to that, but a part of him does.

He’s somehow able to fish his keys out of his pocket and unlock the front doors, all while holding you steady with one arm. You’re just so small, and slot perfectly into him, like you were made for him. He’s glad it’s gone well past midnight; means he doesn’t have to deal with his family and their questions. Not that they’d even bother questioning him – they no longer cared enough to.

It’s when he’s carrying you up the marble staircase that you start struggling against him again.

“Not your bedroom–”

“Where the fuck else do you want me to take you? The couch?” Rose would damn near have a heart attack if she woke up to you sleeping on her precious antique furniture imported straight from Paris or wherever the fuck. Not that Rafe cared, but he’d rather have you in his room.

You keep protesting softly, but he takes you to his bedroom anyways. Closes the door and locks it. Places you gently on his bed. And he’s dreamt of this moment for a while, and would’ve savoured it had it been under different circumstances. But he feels a weird mix of leftover anger and a sort of bittersweet sadness. You didn’t want to be here at all. Like any feelings you may have developed for him in that one week had so easily been switched off, and yet he couldn’t switch anything off no matter how hard he tried.

“You should, uh, get some sleep,” he says, quickly turning away lest you think he’s trying to get into bed with you. Rummages through his closet, tosses you one of his shirts, “Here.”

“I’m okay, thank you.” You’ve pulled yourself up into a sitting position, legs hanging off the side of his king-sized bed. You look even smaller than usual, and you’re doing that thing again – hugging your arms protectively around yourself as if he’s some fucking predator who’s kidnapped you, instead of the guy who’d just saved you from sexual assault.

“Just put it on.”

“I’m fine in this.”

Rafe sighs, pacing the room for a second to get his thoughts straight. Then he makes a beeline for you, kneels down in front of you before thinking. Reaches out to touch your legs before he sees you flinch and pulls back.

“Look, I’m not gonna try anything, okay? I know I lied and manipulated you before, but I’m not doing that right now.”

You stare at him for a long few seconds before swallowing, “I can’t tell when someone’s lying.”

He nods, “I remember. And I told you I’d be straight up with you.”

“But you weren’t.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, “I know, but I’m not doing that shit anymore now, okay? I’m not trying to hurt you so just put it on.”

Your dress looks uncomfortably tight now, the straps digging into your shoulders and the bottom riding up. Again, you tug it down, and bite your lip before sighing, accepting the soft shirt.

“O-Okay. But you need to turn around and close your eyes.”

He huffs, but he does it. Stares at the wall for a good ten seconds. Then fifteen. Twenty. Huffs again. “You done?”

He turns back around when you don’t respond, only to find you struggling with the zipper. The dress is so goddamned tight, it may as well have been painted on. And you’re drunk, can barely locate the zip to begin with, and it’s pathetic how you keep tugging at it. And so fucking cute.

“Stand still,” he orders gently, and by the grace of whatever the fuck, you obey for once. Breathing shallow as he comes up behind you, and then your breath hitches with a cute little squeak when he places a hand on your hip to steady you. Easily undoes your zipper, and he likes how he’s the one who’s done it. He likes taking care of you, wants to help you out of it and put his shirt on you himself.

But all too quickly, you pull away, holding the dress taut against your body. He rolls his eyes and turns around again, listens to you shuffle around as you change.

When he turns back the second time, his heart almost leaps up into his throat. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so pretty, so precious, so innocent. His shirt is huge on you; makes you look so small and cute. Eyes so big as they blink up at him, and you look so vulnerable. Like you were done playing the part of a whore for the night and you were yourself again.

He finds himself swallowing hard, “You look…”

“Don’t.” You cover yourself with your arms again. Words can’t explain how much he hates when you do that.

He clears his throat, eyes trailing down your bare legs. Somehow, you’ve managed to change out of your dress without even taking your shoes off. And now you’re standing there teetering in your heels, looking at him with those big eyes of yours.

“Sit.” He orders you again, gently pushing you down to the edge of his bed. Again, he kneels in front of you. His hand on your smooth calf, stroking down before he can stop himself. You squeak again, but this time you don’t stop him. He doesn’t know why sometimes you let him touch you, and other times you don’t. But he’s not one to question it.

Your heels have ribbons that criss-cross around your calves, and he works to untie them. Deliberately slowly. And it’s getting him so hard, despite everything, to be the one taking care of you like this. How you’d huffed and puffed and gone to this party, pretended to be an attention-seeking little slut, all for you to end up in his bedroom anyways.

“You really had to wear these?” He murmurs, although he’s secretly glad you wore such complicated shoes because you’re letting him help you take them off.

“I… I thought I looked pretty in them.”

He feels a growl emanate from somewhere in his throat, remembering all the men who’d been staring at you so brazenly tonight, “You do. That’s the problem.”

Silence. And then:

“Why do you care?” It comes out like a genuine question, rather than a spiteful remark, “I…I saw you kissing that other girl tonight.”

“That was nothing.”

“I see.” 

He wants you to ask him more, maybe show that you’re jealous, that you wished he’d been kissing you instead. But you don’t. 

“She came onto me,” he feels the need to explain, “and she didn’t mean anything to me.”

You nod, “Okay.”

It irritates him, how you’re not at all fazed. When every time he’d seen a man approach you at the party, he’d wanted to throttle them with his bare hands. As for the guy who’d taken you upstairs? He deserved to be shot. Point blank. Maybe the only reason Rafe hadn’t done it was because he didn’t want to traumatise you.

And yet… you don’t seem to care at all. Or maybe you’re too drunk to care. You look so fucking adorable, sitting on his bed in his shirt, letting him undo your heels for you like a good little girl. 

“I didn’t mean anything to you either.” You say it so softly, he almost misses it.

Rafe flinches, “That’s not true.”

“But you said it. You said I was just another Pogue who spread her legs for you.” 

“Yeah? Well, I say a lot of shit I don’t mean.” He slips your heel off, and he can’t help but stroke your dainty, bare foot before moving on to your other shoe.

“That’s what I’ve realised,” you stare somewhere beyond his shoulder, “Everyone keeps saying things they don’t mean. And I keep believing them.”

He glances up at you, “Who are you talking about?”

“My friends. They said they wanted to be friends with me, but they… they haven’t even asked if I’m okay.”

He almost snorts out loud, but stops himself just in time.

“And it’s not just them, or you, it’s everyone. Even this guy I was supposed to do my project with. I thought we were getting along fine, but now he won’t even look at me. He asked to join someone else’s group, so now I have to do it alone.” Your voice breaks, “I don’t even know what I did to make him hate me…”

Rafe clears his throat and looks away for a second, “You can’t count on everyone, baby.” The pet name just slips out naturally, but you don’t even notice.

“I know. I wish college came with a manual, because I keep messing up and trusting the wrong people.”

“You can trust me.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He takes his chance, sits up on the bed next to you and grabs your hand, and hurriedly keeps talking, “I know I fucked up but I saved you tonight. That should count for something.”

Your lower lip trembles as you look at your tiny hand in his much larger one, and yet you don’t pull away.

“Y-You confuse me so much, Rafe.”

He could say the same thing about you. But he doesn’t. Because he can’t do words and all that shit. He’s never been good at it and he’d just mess things up even more than he already has. He knows what he is good at. And he knows he shouldn’t do it. And yet...

Rafe presses his lips against yours. Softly. Cautiously. Yet with determination. You don’t respond, and it’s like he wants you to so bad. He can’t stand it. His hand goes up to cup your jaw, thumb gently stroking your cheek. He thinks he feels you sigh, or he could just be imagining it.

“Stop,” you beg against his lips, but you don’t push him away.

“Just let me,”

“Rafe, no–”

“Please.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. And he knows he shouldn’t, he knows he promised you he wouldn’t try anything tonight and he’s going back on his fucking word but he doesn’t care. He needs this. Needs this more than you know. More than he himself knows. Because kissing you feels like he’s been parched his whole life and you’re the only thing that can quench his goddamned thirst. He can’t let you go. He doesn’t know why but he just can’t.

He pulls you into his lap, and you squeak into his mouth, your little hands grabbing on to his shoulders and it feels so familiar. He increases the pace of the kiss, slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you taste so fucking sweet. He’s missed this so much, despite how he’s only kissed you a handful of times before this but you fit so perfectly on him. Like you were made for him and him only. And he deserves this. He’d saved you.

“I can’t,” you whisper brokenly, “I can’t let you take advantage of me again.”

“I’m not,” he says between desperate kisses, “I promise you I’m not.”

“You-You’ll tell all your friends. And you’ll laugh like how you did before.”

He kisses down your jaw, your neck, your skin so sweet, “I won’t, baby.”

“You’re just using me. Y-You’ve probably made another bet.”

Why can’t he just say it? Why can’t he tell you that all he can ever think about anymore is you? That it makes him sick, the fact that he’d hurt you? That he’d do anything to take that stupid bet back, to get you to look at him how you used to. What the fuck was stopping him from saying it?

But he can’t, so he just keeps kissing you, and hopes you’ll accept it. Hopes you’ll get him, which was wishful thinking, because nobody got him. His hands curl into your hair, pressing you closer to him, and it feels visceral, it feels desperate. And yet, it almost feels unreal, like he’s kissing you on borrowed time, and it would be over soon and he wouldn’t get his fill.

Sure enough, you pull away, “Why are you doing this, Rafe?”

“Because I want to.” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “And I think you do too.”

You press your lips together, words coming out hushed and shaky, “No one would respect me if I went back to you, knowing how much you lied and everything you said about me.”

“Fuck what everyone else thinks.”

You slip off his lap, “I wouldn’t respect myself.”

He wills himself to say something, anything to reassure you. But nothing comes out. It’s like his mind is frozen, betraying him once again because he’s shitty with words and can’t think of the right thing to say. And it’s getting too much for him… Too emotional, too vulnerable. He can’t.

“You’re thinking about this too much,” he says finally, and his bedroom’s dark except for the dull lamplight, and you look so fucking pretty that he’s in awe.

You sniffle, “M-My mom said I’m not allowed to see you.”

He exhales, “And yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” you echo weakly. “She doesn’t even know I was at the party tonight. I snuck out.” 

He’d figured as much, “She’s kept you in a cage for long enough, don’t you think?”

You shrug, but he can tell you’re mulling over what he’s said.

Rafe pulls you back into his lap, “I don’t care what your mom says. I don’t care what anyone says.” He pauses, the words I like you, I want you to be my girlfriend on the tip of his tongue. But he can’t be vulnerable like that, he just can’t, “You’re mine. And you need to understand that.” 

“I don’t wanna be yours. I want to be my own person.” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you again, “Remember how I said I’d take care of you? It’s because you’re someone who needs taking care of. Your mom’s coddled you all your life, so you have no idea how the real world works. That’s why you need someone like me.”

You swallow, looking up at him with those shining, imploring eyes. You’re so sweet and naive, you don’t even realise how much, “I want to figure out how to take care of myself.” 

“But you can’t. You keep trusting the wrong people and getting yourself hurt.” The irony of his statement isn’t lost on him, but he hopes the alcohol in your system will make you ignore it.

“That’s what my mom says.” 

“Forget about your mother. Let me take care of you. I’ll make all the tough decisions, you won’t even have to think about it.” 

Rafe lays you down on his bed, right in the centre where he knows you won’t scurry away. He hovers on top of you, much like how he did in your tiny bedroom weeks ago. But this time, you’re in his territory. And he has complete control. And maybe, just maybe, you’re drunk enough to trust him again.

He grabs your hand, pressing his much bigger palm against yours, “Look how little you are. You really think you could’ve protected yourself tonight without me?”

You blink up at him with big, dark, sad eyes. Bite your lip like you’re unsure but he thinks it’s so sexy. 

“Mm, that’s what I thought.” He strokes your hand, his thumb grazing his initials on your palm over and over again, “You’re so small and cute, and completely out of your depth. You need me.”

“N-No…”

“Yes.”  He kisses the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands knotting into your hair. You whimper, but you lie there and let him do it. It’s because you want him too. He knows it. And he allows himself to imagine it again. You under his wing, quietly allowing him to make all your decisions for you. Chanel bag on your arm, a dozen more in your closet. All gifts from him, to let everyone know who exactly was taking care of you.

And there’d be no more parties, especially not in the Cut. He wouldn’t allow you to attend them because you were simply too naïve and sweet. He’d take you to drinks at the country club, or maybe to a game of golf. You’d sit pretty in his lap, like a cute little ornament. His little girlfriend that he’d rescued from poverty, his little doll, that he’d dote on and dress up. All his.

“I don’t want that, Rafe. Please stop.” 

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT! He wants to scream. Sure, he’d wronged you but you were too fucking naïve to understand how he was your best bet right now. That he would take care of you, and no one would ever fuck with you again when you were under his wing, because he’d kill them.

“Just kiss me back,” he whispers against your lips, his hands itching to slip under his shirt you’re wearing. He kisses you again, hoping you sense his urgency, sense how badly he wants you.

“Please stop, I can’t let you, I can’t…”

Rafe huffs in frustration, a few choice words on the tip of his tongue. Stop being such a tease, or you owe me for tonight, or you wouldn’t have agreed to come to my house if you didn’t want this.

But he realises you’re the only girl in the world he doesn’t want to say those things to. He can’t say them, can’t bring himself to utter a single spiteful word despite the fact had it been anyone else, he wouldn’t have hesitated even for a second.

He’s about to pull away when:

“R-Rafe? I… I think I’m gonna…”

He draws back at your abrupt shift in tone. The room’s dark, but he can see you’ve suddenly gone a shade of green. Your chest heaves underneath him, your eyes widening. Realisation dawns on him in a millisecond and he scrambles off you. Pulls you upright, debating whether to point out the bathroom to you. That’s when your whole upper body lurches, your hand going to cover your mouth. Without another thought, he picks you up and carries you into his bathroom himself.

He barely gets you to the toilet in time before you start throwing up. Hunched over the toilet bowl, barely holding your hair back. Letting it all out. And he just stands there and watches, never having been in such a situation before.

“I’m sorry,” you sob drunkenly between heaves, “I’m so sorry, Rafe, this is so rude of me.”

Despite everything that had happened tonight, despite how mad you were at him, here you were apologising to him. It makes him feel it again, that weird feeling in his chest. It comes in waves so strong he’s almost knocked off his feet. Instead, he crouches down behind you, gently holds your hair back.

And it feels so alien, because Rafe hasn’t done this for anyone ever. He wasn’t some pussy ass bitch who went soft on the girls he dated. But this… you… it was different.

“It’s alright,” he hears himself say softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your back. And it almost feels like he’s no longer himself, like he’s someone else. Affection had always felt unnatural to him, like he was putting on an act any time he tried to show it. And so he never did. It was easier to just to have everyone be scared of him.

But this right here, sitting on the gleaming floor of his bathroom with you, it felt… it just felt like something. Something he can’t quite put his finger on, except he likes the feeling. And you look so sweet, so vulnerable. He feels almost a sense of pride, because he’s the one taking care of you right now.

You keep apologising. Even once you’re done throwing up, and he helps you to your feet. Takes you to the sink, lets you clean yourself up. Hell, a part of him wants to sit you down on the marble countertop and clean you up himself. But it seems too… intimate. And Rafe doesn’t really know how to be like that.

“I’m really, really sorry,” you hiccup once he places you back down on his bed. You make a move to get back up, “Just let me go clean it up, I can’t bear that I left your bathroom in such a state–”

“No, don’t.” Rafe gently pushes you back down, and you’re so little and cute and tipsy that you fall right back on your butt, “The maid will clean it tomorrow.”

You blink as if you don’t understand, “But it’s my mess.”

Rafe rubs his temple, “It’s her job. Now get back into bed.” He goes over to his mini-fridge, thanking his lucky stars there’s a bottle of water in there amongst all the beer and other bullshit. “Here.”

Obediently, you gulp the water down like a good girl before carefully setting the bottle on his bedside table. Your makeup’s almost all washed off now, face scrubbed clean and you look so innocent it makes his head hurt. Like there’s so much he wants to say to you but he can’t figure out how to get you to understand him.

He sighs, “You should get some sleep.”

“Where’re you gonna–?”

He nods at his leather armchair on the other end of the room. You look over and swallow.

“Oh, uh, I could sleep on the chair. It’s not right that you have to–”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s your bed…”

Drunkenly, you try to get to your feet again. It’s amusing, and he gently pushes you back down a second time before grabbing the duvet cover and throwing it over you.

“Go to sleep,” he repeats, ignoring how his heart thrums and that feeling manifests again. That weird, bubbling feeling under the surface of his chest that seemed to appear every time you did something cute or enamouring or sweet. “I’ll drop you home in the morning.”

You’re too inebriated to argue any further, which he’s thankful for. His thoughts feel all jumbled up, like he can’t understand for the life of him how this is the second time he’s had you alone in a bedroom and he hasn’t fucked you. But now, he settles down on his armchair and watches you slowly make yourself comfortable on his sheets. Shuffle around a bit before tucking the covers till your chin.

It doesn’t take you long to knock out. And he just keeps watching you, how sweet you look, how perfectly you fit into his room, his house, his life. And he hates how he can’t completely read you – can’t tell how you feel because you didn’t want him to touch you and yet you’re sleeping on his bed, and not anyone else’s. How you kept saying you wanted to take care of yourself and yet you’d let him take you home tonight, let him change you and tuck you in. Take care of you.

Rafe decides you have no idea what you want. You’re too naïve. Which means it’s his job to teach you. Teach you that you belonged to him, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He tries to sleep after that. He really does. But the armchair is fucking uncomfortable, and it’s his room. And he’d saved you tonight.

It doesn’t take him long to get back into bed next to you. Gently, he pulls the covers back over you both, his heart skipping a beat when you immediately cuddle into him. It only further affirms that you wanted this — you just don’t know it yet. He runs his hands up and down your body, from your waist, to your ribcage, to your arms. You mumble, shuffle around sleepily, and somehow end up with your head on his chest. 

He kisses the top of your forehead, before allowing himself to fall asleep too.

***

It’s all too soon that he’s woken up to loud, incessant knocking. Rafe swears under his breath, rubbing his eyes and immediately checking his phone. Fuck. It was past noon. The sunlight streams in through the large windows, landing perfectly across your face. It scrunches cutely as the knocking continues, but you’re still asleep.

So fuckin’ pretty, he thinks as he gazes at you, all serene and adorable and still very much in his arms. Slowly, he detangles himself from you, sits on the edge of his bed. His phone’s filled up with texts he’d ignored from the night before.

Topper: Bro, are you okay? People are saying you tried to shoot someone.

Topper: Everyone saw you leaving with the homeschool girl.

Barry: You pull a gun on a guy??? You can’t fucking do that shit.

Barry: You don’t know how dangerous these people can be.

Barry: ??? You’re fucked.

If pulling guns on Pogues meant he was fucked, then Rafe would’ve been fucked a long time ago. But most Pogues were stupid and inept, and so he was not worried. In fact, he fucking dares that punk from yesterday to show his face now. Rafe would murder him for real, and he wouldn’t even need a fucking gun.

The knocking increases, growing louder and more rapid. Rafe swears again, glancing back at you. You shuffle and turn on your side, lips all pouty as you cuddle into his pillow.

He makes his way over to the door, unlocking it only to see Ward staring back at him in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re just waking up now.”

Rafe yawns, but straightens up at the same time, “I was out late.”

Ward blinks, does that think where he exhales loudly through his nose. He does that whenever he feels disappointed, which was all the time whenever Rafe was around him.

“Everyone’s waiting downstairs for you, Rafe.”

Rafe blinks before it dawns on him. The brunch. The business meeting. The random girl he was being set up with.

“Shit, that’s today?”

A beat of silence. Ward looks like he’s about to choke him out, “Well, son, you’ve proven again how you can’t fucking be trusted. With anything.”

Rafe rubs his forehead before running a hand through his hair and looking back at you. He can’t be fucked with this shit right now, not with his headache and the fact you’re in his bed and all this yelling would wake you up.

“I’m sorry.”

“You get your ass down there in five fucking minutes, you hear me?”

Rafe doesn’t think he has it in him, to sit through some fuck ass brunch right now. He glances back at you again. This time, Ward sees and narrows his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got another hooker in there. Jesus Christ, Rafe. It’s like me talking about this family’s image means nothing to you, the way you bring these hookers into my house in fucking droves.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“No?” Ward looks fucking livid, Rafe wonders how he has the energy to be like this so early in the day, “You think I’m stupid?”

“No.”

“Does it go over your fucking head every time I tell you it’s time for you to stop this bullshit and settle down? People are watching us, Rafe. Potential investors, business partners. They see all this shit, okay? And yet you insist on going around and–”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“What?”

Rafe coughs, again looking back at you to make sure you’re still sleeping, “Uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Rafe doesn’t quite know why he’s just thrown this lie out in his father’s face. Maybe because in his mind, it’s not really even a lie. You weren’t just some random girl, you were his girl – even if you didn’t realise it just yet. Or maybe he’s lied because he wants his father to just take him seriously for once.

“Since a while now.” He clears his throat, “She was out late last night and I went to pick her up.”

“How come I’ve never seen her before?”

“It’s serious so I was trying to keep it under wraps,” lying has always come easily to Rafe, and so he speaks smoothly, quickly gaining traction, “And you’ve seen her. On the security footage. She’s the one I had on the patio.”

Ward nods thoughtfully, “The one in that dress? The cute one?”

A strong wave of irritation courses through Rafe’s body, he takes a few quick, deep breaths to keep it at bay, “Yes.”

There’s another long pause as Ward takes it all in. At one point, he looks beyond Rafe’s shoulder and into the bedroom as if to get a glimpse of you. Rafe’s quick to subtly shut the door and step outside of it. Fuck if anyone else saw you right now.

“Fine. You can skip the brunch. We have a business meeting afterwards though. Join us for that, if you can clean yourself up in time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Rafe? I expect a formal introduction with her. If she’s to be a part of this family then you can’t keep her a secret for too long.”

“Okay.”

Rafe breathes a sigh of relief when his father leaves, and he returns to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

You’re still lying there, in the middle of his king-sized bed with sunlight dappled all over your face. Completely asleep and so serenely sweet. It makes his heart lurch, but he swallows that feeling quickly.

Your phone’s glowing dimly beside you. He doesn’t hesitate at all, whipping it up to see who exactly was texting you. It’s your mother. Multiple messages. He can’t see what they say without unlocking your phone first, but he can guess she probably wouldn’t be too happy with you right now. In a sick way, the idea of that makes him glad.

And Rafe just sits there on his bed, watching you sleep. Strokes your cheek with his thumb, watches as you lean into his touch. That’s when he consolidates it in his head. After last night, you were his. Completely. And now everyone would know. His family. His friends. Your mother. The whole of fucking Kildare would know you belonged to him. You’d know too. And you’d accept it. He’d make sure of it.

Even if that meant turning you against your mother completely.

A/N: Okay. There we go. Rafe's lie counter is through the roof lmfao - how many times did this man lie throughout this chapter???

Anyways, please PLEASE let me know what you thought of this chapter. Any opinions/predictions/thoughts/ANYTHING. Feedback means the world to me. I'll be honest, I am very very nervous about posting this chapter bc I don't know what people will think of it. Like genuinely. And it's a bit scary. I really did try my best to get this out for you guys as quickly as I possibly could write it. Your feedback would mean the world - so please, if you read this and like it, do also consider dropping a comment or reblog or sending me an ask on what you think!

Also, some questions! You don't have to answer, these are just for fun!

Do YOU think reader could've protected herself at the party if Rafe hadn't been there?

What exactly does Rafe feel for reader after this chapter?

What do you think Ward will think of reader?

Do you think reader will go along with Rafe's plans or keep fighting against him?

Sarah’s voice makes Y/N step out of her closet, holding a pair of shorts to pull over her bikini bottoms.

“What do you mean? We just…you know, hang out,” she swallows, nervous all of a sudden.

“Hang out? With Rafe? He’s so weird, I’ve never understood why you even bother with him, especially when you could be spending time with your favorite sister instead,” the blonde girl teases with a playful raise of her brows.

“Oh, you mean Wheezie?”

Sarah’s face falls. “Ugh, you’re so annoying, never mind.”

“I mean, you’re the one who’s always running around with John B and his friends, I barely see you around the house anymore.” Y/N tries to reason while trying to locate her towel in the messy room. 

“Okay fine, you’re not wrong, but seriously, what’re you doing today? We should do something together?” 

“Well, uh, we were actually thinking about going to the beach with Rafe.” 

“Of course you were,” Sarah gives her another look. It makes her hesitate before she grabs the pale yellow beach towel and stuffs it in her bag, looking up at her sister with a roll of her eyes. An attempt to play it off. 

“Are his friends coming?” Sarah continues, face scrunching up in disgust. She’s never liked those snobby assholes, and she’s fairly certain that the only reason Y/N tolerates them is because of Rafe. In fact, Y/N tolerates a lot of things because of their brother. For some reason, the man’s got her wrapped around his finger, and Sarah’s determined to get to the bottom of it. 

“No, s’gonna be just the two of us,” Y/N answers while gathering her hair up and away from her face.

“See? That’s exactly what I mean. What do the two of you even do on a beach?” Sarah’s tone is almost accusatory, as if the idea of anyone wanting to spend time alone with Rafe seems completely unfathomable. 

“Well, um, what do you do with John B on a beach?”

“John B’s my boyfriend?” Sarah’s brows crease. 

“Right, sorry, bad example, uh…I just meant that—we just, you know…swim ‘n eat ice cream and stuff,” her cheeks burn, trying her best to tiptoe around the subject because she already feels guilty enough even looking at her brother the wrong way around others. She doesn’t need Sarah of all people interrogating her about it. 

“Rafe doesn’t even like those things,” she argues nonetheless, unconvinced. 

“Yes, he does.” 

“I’ve literally never seen him eat ice cream before.” 

“Cause you never hang out with him,” she tries to reason, feeling oddly defensive all of a sudden. God forbid she wants to spend the entire Saturday afternoon with her brother; soaking up the sun with warm sand under her feet and a cold can cooling her fingertips. Her defensiveness has certainly nothing to do with the dirty feeling in the bottom of her belly whenever she does anything with Rafe, even if most days what they do is completely innocent—at least on her end. 

And all these questions about Rafe are forcing her brain to push uncomfortable memories to the surface, memories she’s stuffed into a box with a lock—memories of the times he’s crossed the line of what siblings should and shouldn’t do together. Memories of his taste in her mouth. 

“Whatever, m’bored, do you guys mind if I join?”

And what is she supposed to say?

No, she’d rather spend time with their brother alone because with other people around she feels borderline sick with the regret that coats every single detail she’s mulled over in her head more times than she can count? Because for some reason, she’s still drawn to him, still wants to spend time with him as if he’s not a terrible, selfish person who’s somehow managed to taint her with this grimy, soiled secret that she’s now as much a part of as him? 

Yeah, that wouldn’t go too well, now would it?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Did we seriously have to bring her?” Rafe complains after five minutes of silence, seemingly incapable of holding in his dissatisfaction for any longer than that. 

“You know I can hear you, right?” Sarah scoffs from the backseat of his truck. 

“Yeah, I do,” a self-satisfied smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth when he stops at a red light. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to spend time with Y/N, not you,” she rolls her eyes, clearly regretting this already. 

“Hey, s’not my fault she likes me more,” he argues, eyes flitting over to the rearview mirror to lock eyes with the blonde. 

“No she doesn’t.” 

“No? Then why does she—“

“I like both of you equally, okay?” Y/N chimes in from the passenger seat, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. She briefly wonders why she thought it’d be a good idea to have the both of them stuck in a confined space together. 

Then, Rafe’s leaning over to whisper something in her ear, so quiet Sarah can’t quite catch it. It makes her tilt her head in curiosity nonetheless, especially when Y/N tells him to shut up before playfully pushing him away, seemingly embarrassed. However, neither of them seem to be able to contain their airy giggles afterwards, which confuses her to no end because she’s never seen Rafe laugh like that.  

“What’s so funny?” Sarah questions while attempting to analyze their interaction with furrowed brows. 

“Nothing.” Rafe clears his throat, quickly dismissing her while Y/N pretends she didn’t hear her while rifling through her beach bag. 

“Well, it was clearly something if—”

“Oh shit, I forgot my sunglasses,” Y/N’s voice interrupts her. 

“S’fine, take mine,” Rafe’s gaze flits over her face before taking off the Ray-Bans perched on his nose, making Sarah huff because at this point, she thinks they’re trying to make her feel like a third wheel on purpose. 

Y/N takes them with a grateful smile and a soft thanks, and he’s about to rest his palm on the expanse of her thigh before he remembers Sarah in the backseat, opting to grip the steering wheel with both hands instead. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Despite the tension coated in annoyance, the three of them manage to spend a few hours soaking up the balmy summer day and the lukewarm water without a single fight. The sun bathes them in its golden warmth and their ocean-soaked limbs are sprawled out on their beach towels without a care in the world–until Rafe’s friends show up. And not much later, Sarah’s friends. 

Then it’s all loud laughter and excited screams. Splashes of bodies hitting the water and empty beer bottles littering the sand. Their little bubble of peace thoroughly destroyed. 

The music’s too loud and the alcohol fizzing in Y/N’s veins makes her trip over her own feet as she flounders around with her thoughts messy. Maybe partaking in a drunken never have I ever wasn’t her brightest idea. And apparently somewhere along the way she’s lost sight of both of her siblings.

“Don’t be such a bitch.” 

She recognizes the voice a few feet away. Rafe. And as she stumbles closer to him, she finds him standing in front of Sarah. Her brows furrow.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that,” she nearly trips and falls face first into the sand, if not for Rafe’s hold on her waist. He smells of sunscreen. The one he only agreed to wear once she’d promised to put it on him. 

“She started it,” he scoffs, eyes bloodshot and wide while he glares at Sarah.

“Started what?” Y/N turns to face her sister, who seems equally irritated. 

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Sarah huffs. 

“Okay,” she’s far too wasted to do anything more, so she drops it, opting to pull Sarah into her arms instead, squeezing her tightly.

“I missed you so much,” she mumbles into the soft strands of her hair. 

“It’s been like ten minutes,” she laughs, hugging her closer nonetheless. 

“Ten minutes too long,” she argues, unwilling to let go. 

“Okay, I love you too, but you’re really drunk and I think we should go home,” Sarah runs her fingers through her hair and the action is so comforting she’d agree to anything that came out of her mouth. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“But there’s no space for me to sit,” a faint pout dusts over her lips as she looks around the crammed space of Topper’s car and then to her brother, comfortably sprawled out on the backseat. They would’ve taken Rafe’s truck but he’d somehow managed to lose his keys at the party, and he’s far too wasted to focus on the road anyway. 

“S’fine, you can sit right here,” he says, big hands pawing at her hips, tugging her down onto his lap without so much as a warning. 

“Ray,” she squeaks out when the warm palm of his hand slips under her shirt next—splaying over the expanse of her stomach as if they’re the only people here. 

“What?” he mumbles against the skin of her neck. “Scared they’re gonna find out about the shit you let me do to you?” 

“Rafe, you’re drunk.” 

“And you’re soft,” he groans, wet mouth grazing her collarbone with every word. 

She attempts to stand on her feet once more but the car is already moving under them, keeping her glued to her spot while Rafe adjusts his position. And then she feels it. The hard ridge in his pants. 

She lets out a shaky breath. 

“Rafe, m’serious…stop,” she whispers the last word, grabbing for his wrist when his mindless fingertips begin toying with the damp fabric of her bikini top. It makes her tense, quickly looking around the crowded space of the car. However, by some miracle everyone else seems to be either too wasted or too into their loud conversations to pay any mind to what Rafe is doing. 

“It was supposed to be just you ‘n me today,” his voice is muffled against the skin of her neck. 

“Huh?” 

“Was looking forward to it and you jus’ had to bring Sarah and ruin it,” his tone is accusatory, frustrated. He sounds almost upset. 

Her inhale is wobbly when she feels the flat of his tongue on the side of her neck, leaving a wet trail that he follows with his lips.  

“M’sorry,” her soft whisper is breathy, and she doesn’t even realize she’s tilted her head towards him before her hazy gaze zeroes in on his eyes when he licks her neck again. And it feels so good she thinks she might melt. No. It feels wrong. 

“You taste like salt water,” the corners of his mouth tug up and in her drunken state, brain all fuzzy and gooey, she can’t help but smile back; her hesitation evaporating like cotton candy into water. 

“Yeah?” 

He hums against her shoulder, the low noise getting swallowed up by the chatter around them. 

Momentarily, she wonders where Sarah disappeared to, but then she sees her on the passenger seat, making out with John B. She’s moaning against his mouth with her eyes closed, hands in his hair and chest pressed up against him. And momentarily, she’s caught in a trance, stuck staring at her sister grinding on her boyfriend; movements clumsy from the alcohol and hair knotted from the water. 

Huh. She wonders what it would feel like to make out with Rafe—wonders what it would feel like to make out with Rafe while Sarah watches. 

Fuck. What’s wrong with her?

Her mind is buzzing, whirring with disgusting thoughts she can’t seem to shake off, and the ache between her thighs only seems to be growing, at this point it’s almost unbearable. She doesn’t even realize she’s been rubbing herself against Rafe—inadvertently mimicking Sarah’s movements—until his fingers are digging into her hips in a warning, halting her movements. 

“Gonna cum in my pants if you keep doin’ that,” he murmurs.

But without the friction there’s only the uncomfortable throbbing and she lets out a whine because she wants it to stop. 

“Shit, you that horny?” 

She nods against his shoulder, somewhere along the way having leaned back and rested her heavy head against him. She’s so out of it she doesn’t seem to notice when he fumbles with the button of her shorts; eyes fluttering shut because it’s the only way the harsh pounding in her brain feels better.

It’s why she doesn’t register that his hand is in her bikini bottoms before she feels it—his middle and forefinger rubbing her, the wetness there making them slide against the spot that throbs.

Somewhere in the very back of her mind alarm bells go off, but his big fingers and the pressure that keeps building with every passing second makes it impossible to concentrate on anything else. 

Her hips begin to move up and down against his hand while mindlessly chasing the release she can already feel building after all the time she’s already spent humping him through their clothes. 

“You know how easy it’d be to stuff you full of my dick right now?” Rafe grunts, her movements making her butt rub against him. 

And that’s all it takes. Her entire body tenses as he tugs, tugs, tugs until she snaps, limbs weightless as she trembles against his chest, skin vibrating and everything disappearing around her. For a moment, there’s nothing but overwhelming pleasure, nothing but overpowering electricity. 

And then she hears a gravelly moan behind her and clumsy hands drag her closer, pulling her down firmer against his dick before he stills, shaking underneath her weight and whimpering against her shoulder, biting down on the skin there without even realizing he’s doing it.  

And then suddenly, her mind clears, all the grime and dirt clogging it flushing out and leaving behind something else. Something that feels an awful lot like guilt. Shame. Embarrassment.

The fuzzy haze she was lost in mere moments ago vanishes into thin air and just like that, she can think clearly again.

THE INSTANT LOVE AND HATE

Wonwoo likes and dislikes things at a gradual pace.

Like the first video game that made an impact on his life.

Spyro, the game about the little dragon who goes on many different adventures. He didn't know what it was about it but he only liked it when he first played it. However, by the end of the game series, he loved it. It was a gradual change. He found himself talking about it more and more with his family whenever his mother had asked him what he was up to, then he talked about it more with his friends at school and then to anyone that he had met in his IT club.

His first dislike was also gradual. There were some guys in his class that were into some games that required a lot of hours and a lot of grinding. He found it annoying at first but the more he tried to play them — in a fear of not fitting in with his classmates — the more annoyed he felt by it. Hence, he stopped after three weeks and never sought out grindy games again.

However, there are two instances in Wonwoo's life where he distinctively remembers loving or hating something.

The instant love? When he was introduced to League of Legends through a friends birthday at a gaming cafe. The minute Wonwoo's fingers touched that keyboard, he knew this game would be one that he would be playing forever. He instantly loved it. He loved how fast-paced it was, how much strategy it required and what he loved most of all? He was fucking incredible at it.

It was as if he had been playing this game for years, even the friend that had introduced it to him, commended him on it and jokingly told Wonwoo that if there was a way to make a career out of this, Wonwoo should instantly go for it.

Wonwoo had laughed it off that day and shoved his friend but when he went home that day, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Could he really make a career out of this?

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake that feeling in his chest before he gave in and searched it up. After an immense amount of research, he found himself staring at the entryway to GOSE HQ, a company that not only developed fast paced strategy games, but also had open auditions for an e-sports team that they were trying to put together.

Wonwoo's parents thought he was crazy. Hell, even Wonwoo thought he was crazy but the second his fingers that keyboard, all his doubts instantly cleared from his mind. It was as if he had blacked out because the next moment, 'VICTORY' had shown up on his screen in giant letters.

He blinked at the screen for a few moments before he clicked next and saw his username there, top of the leaderboard.

Safe to say, life was never the same for Wonwoo after that. He joined the GAM3BOIs with seven others who had made it through the audition and had instantly clicked with all of them upon the first meeting.

It was a fun filled decade after that, they went on to win competition after competition and Wonwoo swore that his life couldn't get better than that.

Well, there is one thing that could make it better.

"You gotta be fucking kidding."

Jeonghan, the vice captain, gives a tight smile at Wonwoo's dry outburst before the latter turns to Seungcheol, his nonchalant look cracking when he meets Seungcheol's serious face. "He's kidding right, Cheol?"

Seungcheol heaves out a heavy sigh at Wonwoo's words, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head, feeling a migraine coming on.

"Does it look like he's kidding, Wonwoo?" He asks, a tired edge to his words as he leans against the console behind him.

Wonwoo resists the urge to say an instant 'yes' when he sees his teammates looking at him with a knowing look on their faces.

"We can't be going onto the same program show as the ST4RL1GHTs." Wonwoo repeats, in slight disbelief. "Aren't they on some promotional tour for their new game that's coming out?"

The two captains share a look. "They are." Jeonghan starts, a small smile on his face as he crosses his arms. "But this promotional program is in two weeks. It was a request from the host of the program so both our management and their management thought it was a good idea and good publicity for the top two teams to be seen together. Hence," Jeonghan casts a quick glance towards Seungcheol as he gnaws on his bottom lip before continuing. "They rearranged our schedule with the ST4RL1GHTs so that we can all make the program on the same day."

Wonwoo feels dread crawling through his veins. "Is there any way for us to skip the program?" He finds himself asking.

Jeonghan tongues his cheek before sending Seungcheol a look. Seungcheol, however, fixes Wonwoo with an unreadable look as he scans him, as if calculating what to say next.

"And why." Seungcheol asks, his eyebrows raising. "Would you need to know that, Jeon?"

A little fear surges through Wonwoo's veins at Seungcheol's use of his last name.

Wonwoo should have taken that as a cue to say, 'just wondering' and let the rest of the promotional content meeting continue but his mind is plagued by the amount of dread in his veins.

"I refuse to be on the same program as her." Wonwoo says bluntly, crossing his arms as he stares at the team captain. The room becomes eerily quiet as the tension rises slightly. Wonwoo feels his teammates eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn't care. There is no way that he can be civil with you in the same room.

Soonyoung — codename: Hoshi, lets out an awkward laugh as he senses the tension in the room. He reaches over to sling an arm around Wonwoo's shoulders making the man grunt as he pats him, a little too happily.

"Wonwoo~" Soonyoung coos, trying to ease the tension. "It's just a few hours, besides they might not make the two of you interact! You can be on the other side of the room and—"

Wonwoo lets out a stubborn scoff before shaking his head. "No." He interrupts. "I can't and won't be in the same room as Icy. I refuse."

"Wonwoo—" Soonyoung tries again before Seungcheol cuts him off by clearing his throat and waving the younger man off. Soonyoung looks between the two before he sighs and removes his arm away from Wonwoo. He purses his lips and rolls his chair back.

Seungcheol lets out a slow exhale before pushing himself off of the console behind him in favour of leaning against the table.

"I think that's more of a 'you' issue, Jeon." The team captain says sternly, his eyes filled with a stubborn fire. "I know the two of you can't get along but this program means something to all of us." Seungcheol gestures to the rest of the team members. "So, I need you to put this stupid rivalry with Icy away for just three to four hours while we record the program and the two of you can go back to hating each other's guts right after. If not," Seungcheol stares Wonwoo down as his voice lowers by two octaves. "I will make sure that you're benched for the season."

Wonwoo's eyes widen upon hearing Seungcheol's words. "You can't—"

Seungcheol cuts him off. "I can and I will if you screw up this opportunity for the team, Jeon. This is one of the biggest programs that we've been invited— requested to be on. It will bring a lot of publicity for the team and frankly, I think this rivalry between you and Icy has gone a little too far behind just the screen."

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, feeling a slight bit of rage in his veins. Seungcheol lets out a sigh before massaging his temple, unsure if he took it too far. He lowers his leader persona, running a hand through his hair before levelling Wonwoo wth another gaze that's softer than before.

"I know you can be better than this, Wonwoo." The older man softly says, watching Wonwoo's unreadable expression. "You've also been wanting to go onto this program so please. It's just for three hours."

Silence envelops the room after Seungcheol breathes out the last few words. The team members exchange looks with each other.

Wonwoo lets his eyes move from Seungcheol's genuine expression to Jeonghan's cautious one before he takes a quick glance at his team members.

He lets out a ragged sigh. "Fine." He softly says, the disdain in his voice a little evident. He sees Seungcheol's shoulders slump a little in relief before standing up.

"I need some air." He says, not bothering to look up from the floor. "I'll find out the rest of the promotional calendar after this."

Wonwoo speeds out of the room without so much as another word as the glass door violently swings close behind him. The rest of the team collectively heave out a breath as they relax more into their chairs, the tension easing.

"Well!" Soonyoung chirps. "That could've gone worse!"

Jihoon — codename: Woozi — scoffs at the blonde's statement. "It could've also gone a lot better." He says without an ounce of remorse. "It was like we were killing him slowly."

"We might as well have been." Minghao — codename: The8 — mutters, swaying in his chair.

Seungcheol lets out a sigh as he pushes himself off of the table. "He'll get over it."

"You sure?" Jeonghan asks, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his arms. "We basically just told him that if he doesn't 'behave', we're benching him for the first half of the season." He tilts his head to the side. "Are you going to actually follow through with that if he screws up the program?"

Seungcheol internally curses himself, he knows he needs to set an example for his teammates. They may be a close knit group but they also had a job to do and Seungcheol's the team leader. The responsibility of leading this group to be the best they can be, depends on him.

"He won't." Seungcheol answers easily, his voice wavering a little that lets the rest of his team members know that he isn't quite sure of the answer himself. "Let's just get back to the rest of the promotional calendar."

The rest of the team share a look with each other as Seungcheol spares a quick glance towards where Wonwoo had exited from before he sighs, he really hopes his words will be true.

Because the one thing that Wonwoo had instantly hated, was you.

TABOO WORDS

You shuffle uncomfortably in your makeup chair as your stylist fixes a few strands of your hair. You know you shouldn't be nervous. You've done promotional reality content shows with the rest of your team before and being the witty and sarcastic person you were, you're the perfect guest for these kind of shows.

Not to mention that you've actually been dreaming on appearing on this particular reality show for the longest time. However, all you can think about is the annoyingly handsome guy that you need to be civil with for the next few hours.

You didn't know what sparked this rivalry between the two of you, but the hate was instant. It was probably the way he always had this cocky aura around him and he was not as nonchalant as he wanted to be. It was just a little insufferable.

You probably wouldn't have been so pressed about it if he was just a good sport. It was one of the first few matches of the season, a friendly tournament that didn't affect your placing for the overall season, just something to get the players warmed up.

You were bright-eyed and new and ecstatic to be playing against some of the players you watched during your free time. You've always been good at League, multiple of your friends trying to encourage you to get into the e-sports world but you were always scared to do so and it irked your friends till the end of time.

Hence, they made you attend an open audition without your knowledge and the next thing you knew, you were one of the newest recruits for ST4RL1GHT.

So, during that first friendly competition, you were actually excited to meet the stellar players, especially said handsome guy in glasses. However, you were also really good at League and when you had beat that star-studded player, you had heard him mutter 'beginners luck' under his breath and that made your heart instantly drop into your throat.

I guess it was true that you should never meet your heroes.

"Ready?" Jihyo, your team captain asks which jolts you out of your thoughts. You sit up straighter and send her a smile through the mirror as she stands behind you.

"Yeah." You mutter out, dusting off your leather outfit that the stylist has put you in. "I think so at least."

Jihyo sends you an empathetic smile as she helps you off the high chair. "Well, just remember what we all told you in the hotel room the other day. Just don't make eye contact with him, only interact with him when you need to and smile as if seeing him doesn't make you want to jump out of the building."

You let out a snort at her words. "I'll do my best." You reply dryly, your eyebrows furrowing at the thought of having to be nice to the guy who basically said your win was luck based.

You think you would rather go into a League game blindfolded.

Jihyo sends you one last smile before she rounds up the rest of the girls on the team. You smile as they all assemble in a line, Yunjin immediately taking the spot next to you as she hooks her arm through yours. Chaewon, Kazuha, Eun Chae and Sakura all stand facing Jihyo as well as the vice captain, Tzuyu, awaiting the quick briefing before the eight of you get called for standby.

"Alright, we aren't sure what the program is for today but knowing the history of this show, they will most likely make us play a few games with the GAM3BOIs, it will be a competitive time but," Jihyo sends you all a look of unwavering confidence. "I'm sure we will be able to beat them."

A few murmurs of agreements rise from the rest of you.

"And the whole line-up is here today?" Yunjin asks, flashing you a quick glance. Jihyo's eyes flit to you for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah." Jihyo easily answers. "Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Vernon, Minghao, Jun and…" Her tongue wets her lips. "Wonwoo."

His name immediately makes your expression sour and everyone's gaze falls onto you, as if his name was some taboo word that sets you off immediately. Instead, you shrug, silently willing for this day to be over.

"I'm fine." You mutter, trying your best to assure them as you give them a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "What's the worse that could happen?"

THE CONFESSION

You want to curse whatever possessed you to say those words an hour ago.

It started off civil, you managed to avoid him till you had to force a smile onto your face as you greeted him and the rest of his members, the handshake that the two of you exchanged as stiff as it could've been. But it was fine.

The hosts asked the two of you questions, there was a little bit of teasing here and there but it was fine.

Until they announced the games that you and the rest would be playing.

"Next up!" The male host announces, making you sit up straighter. "After the break, we're moving onto our game section for the day which is the 'Horror Lineup'!"

At his words, you feel your heart drop in your stomach and your face pale.

Yunjin also freezes beside you after she hears the words and shoots you a small glance. You try to keep your expression neutral, an easy smile on your face but internally, you think you regret your words a little bit.

The hosts turn to you and the rest with a tantalizing smile on their faces. "However, this event comes with a twist!" The male host looks towards your team, eyeing you specifically. "We will be pairing you up with members on the other team so!" He looks back towards the cameras with a shifty expression and a big smirk, "Let's see the pairings!"

You feel your blood run cold at his words as the female host starts exaggeratedly clapping at his words. You feel Yunjin's eyes on you but you couldn't bring yourself to look at her as your eyes lock with the man across the room.

Yeah, you seriously regret uttering those words.

"This can't be happening." You think aloud as you collapse onto the couch in the dressing room. "A horror game and he's my fucking partner?!" You want to run a hand down your face in distress. "The world has got to be against me."

Your teammates stare at you, unsure of how to comfort you when Eun Chae speaks up.

"Maybe he will be civil this time!" She supplies, a little nervously.

"Maybe over my dead body." You bluntly mutter, sinking in deeper into the couch.

"How about one of us request to switch partners?" Tzuyu offers. Jihyo, however, shakes her head as she silently paces while Yunjin takes a seat beside you.

"I don't think they'd agree to it." Jihyo says softly. "They know all about the famous rivalry between Jeon and Icy. They might just want to do it more if we protest it or suggest the member switch." She shakes her head. "It's probably been their goal from the start when they wanted all of us to be on this show."

"Those assholes." Yunjin mutters, her fists clenching a little. If it was any other scenario, you would've barked out a laugh at her swearing, however all you can do is stare upwards at the ceiling and let your thoughts run wild.

The room falls suffocatingly silent as you feel your nerves spike, your heart hammering fast in the confinements of your chest as you feel your member's eyes on you. Your restlessness gets the better of you making you shoot out of your seat which makes a few of your members jump in surprise.

You shoot them an apologetic look before excusing yourself. "I need some air."

With that, you take off. You push the dressing room door, speedwalking down the hallway. You aren't sure where you're going but you just knew you needed to get out of there before the walls completely swallow you whole.

Your prayers are answered as you push open a firm white door which leads you to the roof of the building. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with fresh air as you feel the weight on your shoulders start to lift. You eye the skyline as you watch the sun start to dip below the horizon, feeling your worries start to dissipate from inside your veins as you walk closer to the railing. You lean against it as a gust of wind washes over you, increasing the serenity of the scenery.

"Enjoying the scenery?"

You jolt, jumping a little before you whip your head to see Wonwoo stood behind you, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

"Are you the fucking devil, Jeon?!" You ask, your hand on your chest as you will your heart to calm down. "You're going to give someone a heart attack if you make yourself known like that."

You see a ghost of a smirk tug at the corners of Wonwoo's mouth. "Didn't answer my question, Icy."

You roll your eyes as you cross your own arms. "I enjoyed it a lot more before you made yourself known to me."

Wonwoo barks out a bitter laugh as he pushes himself off of the wall. He takes a few steps towards you, "Have a problem with horror games, Icy?"

You blink in surprise at his question before quickly schooling your expression. "What's it to you?"

He shrugs. "You just looked like you were going to pass out when they mentioned it." A snarky smirk appears on his face as he fixes you with a mocking pout and a condescending head tilt. "Do you need me to hold your hand later so that the scary monsters don't get you?"

Your jaw clenches as you resist the urge to slap the annoying expression off of his face. "You're such an asshole." You bite out, your tone laced with venom as you glare at the taller man. "What is your problem with me?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows furrow as his expression does a 180 and he's glaring at you. "I should be asking you that." He mutters lowly, taking another step towards you. "You're the one walking into every room glaring at me with the power of a thousand suns. I was willing to let it go the first few times but when you suddenly started making it your personal mission to get me out first in all the League games, that's where I draw the line."

You feel your blood boil more. "Are you saying that this fucking rivalry is my fault?"

"If the shoe fits!"

A sarcastic laugh escapes you as you shake your head. "You're such an asshole, Jeon." You mutter out, trying to push past the man.

"No." Wonwoo sternly says, blocking your path. "You started this. Tell me what your fucking problem with me is."

Your jaw clenches more. "Jeon—"

"No, we're settling this here and now because if I have to play nice later in-front of everyone. I have to at least know what I did for you to act as if I took a shit in your goddamn cheerios."

If you weren't so pissed off with the man standing in-front of you, you would have found that joke funny but all you see is red as you jab a finger into Wonwoo's chest.

"You wanna know what my goddamn problem with you is?!" You hiss, nudging him hard with your finger. "Fine! It's the fact that you always think you're the fucking smartest in the room and God forbid a rookie tries to beat you at your own stupid game because you're such a sore ass loser — and the rookie actually fucking looked up to you by the way. And don't even get me started on—"

"What?" Wonwoo says, interrupting you before you can continue your ramble, his eyebrows scrunching. "What the fuck was that?"

"What the fuck was what?"

"That rookie example that you used."

You feel your heart stop as you realize what you had just told this godforsaken man.

"Was that you?" He asks, his voice dropping a few decibels, barely above the breath of a whisper.

"No." You quickly reply as you refuse the meet the man's gaze.

"Oh my god. It was you." Wonwoo says softly, taking a step backwards to fully see your expression.

"No—"

"Icy."

You feel a little vulnerable in-front of the man, knowing that you just exposed something that you should've taken to your grave.

"Drop it, Jeon." You mutter out, unsure of what to do now that your adrenaline of your ramble had died. "You called me lucky during my debut match when all I did was look up to you." You chuckle lowly. "Maybe that was a petty ass reason to kinda hate your guts but that match meant everything to me and I worked hard to get to where I was. And for you to just say that it was fucking luck…" You cut yourself off with a soft scoff as you fix your eyes on his shoes. "That fucking sucked."

Wonwoo is silent for the first time, your words rendering him absolutely speechless which makes you shift uncomfortably.

"I'll see you later, Jeon." You mutter, pushing past the man. You stop in-front of the door that leads back inside. "I promise I won't be too much of a bother later. So just…" You hesitate, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek. "Just fucking forget whatever I said."

With that, you pull the door open and leave Wonwoo standing there with his thoughts.

DO YOU HATE THE PLAYER?

"Wow!" The host announces, wiping a stray tear from his eye from how much he was laughing. "That was a fantastic combination of wit and whimsy from our two team captains!" Seungcheol helps Jihyo step off the platform before giving her a smile which she returns with ease as they walk back to their seats. "They really show their stellar leadership skills in switching between being team players and leaders through this game show."

The female host flashes a smile as she nods at the male host's words. "You said it!" She turns back to the cameras, her eyes glinting. "Now, for our final pair. The feistiest set of rivals in all of E-Sport history. Wonwoo and Icy!"

You slide out of your chair, a fake smile plastered on your lips as you 'confidently' walk up to the steps of the platform. You refuse to look at Wonwoo as he settles beside you, even though you can feel his eyes on you.

"Now," The male host says, turning to the two of you. "As said before, one of you would need to put on the VR headset and go through one of the two rooms of your choice. The other will be guiding you through the maze that is set in that room but beware of the dangers lurking in between the turns." He eyes the two of you with a mischievous grin. "Got it?"

You nod as Wonwoo grunts in acknowledgement.

The host turns to you, a glint in his eyes that makes your skin crawl as he holds out the headset to you. "Seeing as you're known as the most confident member in ST4RL1GHT, I assume you would be taking the headset and doing the maze!"

The action stuns you, rendering you a little dumbfounded as you stare at the white headset in his hands. For the rest of the pairs, they just left the headset on the pedestal in-front and let the pair discuss who would be taking the challenge.

You open your mouth, about to accept your fate and take the headset when Wonwoo stops you.

"I'll do it." He answers, making you blink in surprise as he glances at you. "I've seen Icy's comms and I think she would do a better job of guiding me through the maze than I would. I also know that my navigational skills are pretty good so I will be able to follow her instructions."

The male host falters slightly as he stares at Wonwoo's outstretched hand. "Really?" The guy hesitantly says. "I feel that Icy might be better at going through the maze because—"

"Because you planned this around the fact that you heard that she hated horror games and wanted to personally humiliate her on the show?" Wonwoo finishes, raising an eyebrow.

At those words, the host pales as his jaw drops open. "H-how—"

Wonwoo shrugs. "The hallways are pretty echoey, don't you think." He bluntly states. "I just so happened to be in the hallway where you were laughing at what a misfortune it would be when the Ice Queen of ST4RL1GHT falters and screams at this pathetic horror game."

You jolt a little feeling a hand linking with yours making you peer to your side to see Jihyo standing there with her leader face on. "I think it's time for us to take our leave." She says, plastering on a fake but serious smile. "I don't think we will be coming back to this show but we thank you for inviting us."

You feel a few other people line up beside you making you look to your left and right to see the rest of the girls stepping into line with you and Jihyo. Their faces are filled with unamused expressions as Yunjin takes a glance at you, giving you a warm smile before squeezing your shoulder in a firm reassurance that says 'We got you.'

"I think it's the same for us as well." You hear Seungcheol say as you see the GAM3BOIs stand up as well, moving towards the front. "Thank you for having us as well but," he locks eyes with you, sending you a small reassuring smile before it disappears as he turns back to the hosts. "We can't be on a show where the hosts have a secret vendetta against their guests and want to humiliate them."

With that, the sixteen of you leave the room, leaving the hosts blinking owlishly at all of you, unsure of what to do. You giggle at their reaction as you hear the producers start to chastise the two of them, wondering how their ratings were going to do. In any other situation, you probably would've felt bad for how badly they were getting told off but you can't bring yourself to care after they tried to use one of your biggest weaknesses against you.

You hear a soft breath of your name being called making you stop in your tracks and turn to face the individual. There stands a nervous Wonwoo who looks almost as if he was silently cursing himself for calling your name.

Jihyo looks between you and the man before detaching herself from you. "We'll see you inside." She whispers to you, giving your shoulder a quick squeeze before pushing the rest of the girls towards the dressing room.

"You think he's going to confess to her—"

"Shut up Eun Chae!" Chaewon hisses. "He's right there!"

"But—"

You shake your head as their voice trail off down the hallway, leaving you with a very awkward Wonwoo.

"What can I do for you, Jeon?" You ask, an attempt to break the ice when it becomes clear that the man was not going to do it himself.

The man shuffles uncomfortably in place before he opens his mouth. "I wanted to apologize for being an asshole when we first met." He softly says, fiddling with his hands. "I'm also sorry that it took you telling me to realize what I had done wrong and I have no excuse for saying that it was luck based." He clicks his tongue before he continues his ramble. "I actually remember that first friendly match. I was upset with something one of my teammates did and I took it out on you by calling you lucky because I wasn't thinking clearly that day. I know it's not a good excuse but for what it's worth, I thought you were one of the best players I saw that day. You made quite the impression."

His apology and words make a warmth spread through your chest. You clear your throat as you cross your arms in-front of your chest.

"Thank you." You softly say. "For the apology and also for doing what you did just now."

Wonwoo shakes his head. "Small matter." He mutters. "Someone needed to put those assholes in their place."

His words make a small smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

"They really were assholes, huh." You say as you watch a ghost of a grin appear on Wonwoo's face. He lets out a low chuckle as he scratches the back of his nape.

"Yeah, they were." He assures you, his voice rumbles making a shiver run down your spine. "Kinda upsetting to be honest." He admits, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I'm actually a really big fan of their content."

Your eyes widen at his confession. "So am I."

Wonwoo looks at you with a surprised look before a devastating smile appears on his face. "Looks like we might have more in common than we thought."

You feel your heart start to race as a flush erupts up your neck. "Yeah." You honestly say. "We might."

You feel a comfortable silence envelope the two of you before you hear loud noises down the hallway, recognizing them as Wonwoo's teammates. You see him realize it as well as his eyes flit from you to the hallway behind you.

"You should go." You say, taking a step to the side. "I probably need to get going too."

Wonwoo hesitates for a second, glancing between you and the hallway before nodding. He starts to take a few steps towards the hallway behind you before he turns and faces you.

"Does this mean we're friends now?" He asks making you blink at him.

You raise an eyebrow at the man before feigning a ponder when you realize how nervous he's being. "I don't know." You softly tease. "Might need a rematch of that friendly so that I can make you eat those words."

Wonwoo blinks before he lets out a soft breath of a laugh, shaking his head before he looks back up at you. "Deal." He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Till the rematch then."

You bite back a smile as you shake his hand. "Till the rematch." You repeat. You feel him tilt both your hands so that his is on top before he slips something into your hand. You quizzically look at him as he pulls his hand out of your grasps before closing your knuckles around the object in your hand.

All he does is give you another devastating smile before he takes off down the hallway without another word.

You glance at your hand, unclenching it slowly to see a folded piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrow as you open it before a small smile appears on your face as you read the words on it.

xxx-xxx-xxxx, hope I can continue to make it up to you.

©livmarauder2026Thank you guys so much for reading my v8 birthday fic! I do hope you guys truly enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 More fics to come!! Like my work? Join my Permanent Taglist! All my fics are 18+, which means blogs without age or age indicator will not be tagged! If you like this, please consider reblogging or liking! It really makes my day! <3 I hope you all enjoyed e-sports wonwoo <333

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“Hey baby, you looking for a good time?” A sleazy voice called out when you walked past; the heavy unpleasant smell of booze, piss, old oil, and cigarette smoke heavily coming from that direction. It made your lips curl in disgust when the mixture met your nose and kept your eyes forward.

Pulling the large thick trench coat tighter around your body, you hoped that it would hide away the little outfit you wore to work and took the chance to inhale the comforting scent of your boyfriend that lingered on the fabric. Keeping you grounded and giving you the strength to bite your tongue.

You ignored the man and his friend yelling insults at your back as you continued your journey through the near empty streets of the Shadow District, back home. With one hand gripping the knife under the thick sleeves, one that Wonwoo had insisted you carry for protection. Luckily, you were able to go another day without having to use it, with the most those men could do was yell out names at your back as you disappear in the crowd.

Even with how early it was, or late depending on the person, the streets were still filled with people. Stores opening their doors to sell synthetically processed foods and supplements to help curve your hunger or thirst, groups of people still enjoying the night life despite the sky glowing grey with smog and sunrise, or those hiding in the shadows, waiting for someone to approach them for the drugs they had in their pockets.

Eagerly waiting for the next victim to get hooked and keep coming back for more.

That was life here in Huimang, named with the intentions of being a City of Hope, but hope was not even a luxury that many people could have. You being one of them, but this was still your home.

The apartment was quiet when you got in, with the grey morning light peeking through the blinds and violet lights that Wonwoo left for you. He was long asleep in your bedroom, greeted by golden eyes and soft meows from your shared cat instead. Her soft dark fur feeling comforting against your leg, and you were quick to shed the coat to pick her up.

“Hello to you too, Doodle Bug.” You cooed at the small feline, scratching the side of her head as you made your way into the small kitchen. Wiggling free, Doodle jumped from your arms to the floor, only to look back at you to meow and it brought a smile to your face, “Didn’t your dad feed you before he went to bed?”

This earned another meow from her, and you chuckled. “Alright, alright. You win. Early breakfast it is.”

After feeding the cat a can of her favorite food, you made sure her water bowl was full before making your way to the bathroom to clean up. The boots you switched to after work kicked off to a random corner of the small living room, the revealing top thrown over the back of the sofa, and your shorts that felt more like underwear left on the ground by the bathroom. You didn’t care that you would need to pick up everything later.

The shower felt amazing on your skin, the hot water washing away everything that had clung to you from working that night—sweat, spilled booze, tobacco smoke, the disgusting things that had been said to you, and the ghost of hands that tried to touch you as you tried to serve drinks.

It left the stripped away version of you. The real version of you, or what was left of it from years of running and trying to survive.

When you emerged from the steamy shower, the cold air of the apartment bit at your damp skin and a shiver ran through you. You were ready to slip into the warmth of your bed, into the warmth of Wonwoo. The shower may have washed everything away, but it also made you aware of how sore your muscles were, and how tired you were. Each day growing heavier on you, no matter how many hot showers you took.

You didn’t bother putting on any pajamas, just slipping onto the old worn bed, with your boyfriend sleeping on his side. His back faces you as you settled under the bedding and moved to mold your body against it, pressing your lips against his bare shoulder.

“How was work?” His voice was deeper than usual, rough with sleep, taking one of your hands that rested against his stomach. The sound and gesture making your lips upturn against his skin.

“The usual. Rich, drunk and high assholes that don’t know how to or even capable of keeping their hands too themselves. Thinking that flaunting their wealth, and expensive body mods will impress anyone enough to sleep with them.” You let out a soft sigh, eyes closed while you welcome the warmth of your boyfriend, feeling his thumb run over the back of your hand.

Wonwoo stopped before he shifted himself to sit up, causing you to lift your head in confusion. There was some dried drool at the corner of his mouth, his black hair a tangled mess from sleep, and a frown on his lips. He had taken his left eye out to sleep, so only his right one was opened and trained on you with concern.

Just looking at him made your heart flutter still after years together, still the most beautiful person you ever laid eyes on. You couldn’t stop from thinking of how lucky you were to have him love you and be in your corner. Your missing piece.

“They touched you?” He asked calmly, that sleepy rasp was now gone and something dangerous took center stage. “And Seungcheol did nothing about this?”

“Seungcheol wasn’t there tonight. You know if he was, or any of us said something, they would be out on their asses. Their credits aren’t any good there if they fuck with the servers, no matter how rich they claim to be.” You answer, rolling onto your back, trying to not giggle when his eye dropped to your bare breasts when they moved. You reached out to run your hand over his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s not anything I can’t handle, baby. They eventually get bored when they realized that I wouldn’t let them fuck me in the bathroom.”

“I should kill them for touching you.” His words sounded more like a growl while he leaned over you. His gaze slid over your frame before it returned to your face. “Only I can touch you.”

“As lovely as that sounds, I rather keep you next to me and not behind a glass window.” The hand that had been resting on his arm moved up to his neck so you could pull him into a kiss.

Wonwoo didn’t resist your pull, leaning down to find your lips, tasting the minty flavor of the teeth cleaning tablet still fresh on your tongue. The kiss was brief, but it still ignited a fire in you, your body warming, and it seeped to your core. You found yourself chasing his lips when he pulled back, the soft whine that left you earned a smirk from your boyfriend.

“Only I’m allowed to touch you.” He repeated, his mouth brushing against yours, slipping on top of you and his hips pushing your thighs open without any resistance from you. He didn’t wear clothes to bed, so when he pressed down, there was no barriers against his hardening cock and your own bare heat. Another moan escaped you, as your hips instinctually moved as if you would be able to catch the tip of his thick length just the right way. “Only I can fuck you in those bathrooms.”

“Is that so?” You teased, trying to not let your lashes flutter at the way Wonwoo’s strong hand grabbed your hips, holding it there with more pressure than needed, but you didn’t mind his possessiveness over you. He pulled his face back to give you a look, knowing that bratty but aroused smirk all too well, and had to hold back a very vocal groan feeling your cunt getting slicker against the underneath of his cock.

“Last I checked, I am in charge of who touches me, and where I get fucked.”

Wonwoo’s mouth latched onto yours, this time his kiss hungry to taste you again, relishing that you returned that same hunger. You were tired, your body desperate for sleep, but you could never pass up a moment like this; especially when you know letting him fuck you would help you sleep better.

His hands moved down your body, caressing your breasts and teased your hardened peaks, while his tongue took claim of yours. Teasing and sucking on it, each of you swallowing moans his hips moving against yours, his cock sliding through your slit teasingly. Letting himself be coated by your arousal, teasing you.

“You want to play a little, or just want me to fuck you?” Wonwoo asked, pulling from the kiss, his eye looking over your face, a lazy smirk playing over his lips. The question made you laugh because it didn’t sound the least bit romantic or intimate, but at the same time, neither of you were aiming for that. Except you weren’t going to miss a chance to pick on him. “What?”

“You sure know how to romance a…oooh.” The words were lost when he shifted his hips back so that he could slip a hand between your legs, slender fingertips slipping between your folds and found your clit with practiced ease. “Fuck… Wonwoo…”

“If you want me to be romantic…” His voice was soft, his touch matched it in movement. Slow, gentle circles around your sensitive bud, teasing and earned whimpers from you. He was doing this on purpose. His lips barely brushed against your as he spoke again. “Then you’re out of luck.” You went to roll your eyes, but instead they rolled back when two fingers pushed into you, a little gasp leaving you while a groan left him. “Always so wet for me. This is why only I can fuck you.”

“Then do it, you dick.” You snapped, though there was no punch behind it, only to earn a chuckle from him. His fingers were going at a slow agonizing pace, like he hadn’t just woken from a deep sleep, and you didn’t just spend all night working. Taking his time like it wasn’t early hours in the morning.

“You’re demanding.”

“But you love me and will listen anyways.” And he did listen, withdrawing his fingers so he could line himself up; the thick tip barely pressed into you making you groan in a mix of frustration and anticipation. He may have listened, but he sure as hell was going to torture you a bit and pulled back when you would try to roll your hips. “Wonwoo!”

He did this to you a few more times before finally sinking into you, earning a moan of pleasure and relief as he took a quick inhale of breath. Your inner walls squeezed and molding to him in such a delicious way that he had to clear his head or he was going to cum right then.

“Fuck baby…” He groaned, stilling after he filled you completely, his forehead pressed against yours and both eyes squeezed shut this time. Your own body was shaking, relishing in the feel of him on top of you and inside you, fitting together like missing pieces.

When he finally started to move, Wonwoo created a tantalizing pace with his thrusts, making sure not only you felt every inch of his length but for his own enjoyment as well. He wasn’t in a rush, but neither of you were going to last long.

“I love you.” You moaned out, clinging to him in need to feel him over every inch of your skin. You needed to feel the weight of him on you, to be grounded, to know he’s still real, that you were still alive. Wonwoo’s mouth was hot on your collarbone, one hand holding onto your hip using his strength to keep you where he wanted you while the other massaged one of your breasts, leaving marks where it would be hard to hide.

“I love you too, fuck. I love you so fucking much,” His words came out labored, the deep vibrations of his voice sending waves over you with his words, his thrusts started to get sloppy quickly. Too lost in the feeling of you and exhaustion that still clung to him.

He was getting close to his release; except he refused to let go first. He had to make you come undone around him before he could. Wonwoo was a lot of things in life, but he was never a selfish lover; at least he never was one with you.

The hand that was massaging the fatty flesh of your breast slipped between you to give you a bit of help to get to your release. He smirked against your skin, gently pressing his lips to a fresh mark, when you let out a small cry when he started to tease your clit. Your nails raked down his back and left red scratch marks down his back.

You weren’t sure if you were just sensitive from the hot shower, and exhaustion but the mixture of his cock plunging into your warmth and his quick finger movements was just enough to push you over the edge. Your body shaking as your release washed over you, any moans and gasps leaving you were now swallowed up by Wonwoo. His mouth was hot against your lips, tongue eagerly licking the inside of your mouth; his moans turning into soft whines.

You were already snug around him, but when you came it was like you were squeezing the life from him. Wonwoo tried to hold out a little longer, until your hands moved down his body to grab his ass, pushing his hips into you to grind and that was it for him. Letting himself go inside you, filling you until he couldn’t give any more.

Neither of you moved for a moment, his kiss now slowing to a gentle make out and a hand cupping your cheek. The room dim and quiet, letting you both forget that there was a dark world out the confides of your little apartment. When that moment passed, Wonwoo pulled himself out with a sensitive wince and rolled himself off you with a groan.

“You are going to be the death of me.” He muttered, now on his back and pulling you to his side. Giving you enough time to move so you were facing him before you were pressed against his slick skin.

“You’re the one who started it.” You mumbled, still attempting to catch your breath as your eyes closed. Your body is completely relaxed, and exhaustion had finally taken you under.

Barely awake, you said in a sleepy tone, “We need to clean up.”

“No we don’t.” Wonwoo grumbled, sleep taking back over him, turning his head to press a kiss to your hairline. “We need to sleep.”

The excessive knocking started to turn into pounding and finally ripped you from your deep sleep. An annoyed groan left your lips as you rolled onto Wonwoo’s side of the bed, empty and feeling cool against your skin. Showing he had been up and gone for a while.

“Fuck off…” You mumbled, but whoever was at your door was persistent, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Getting up, you stumbled through the room to find clothes since you weren’t going to answer naked. Luckily, you found a pair of shorts and a shirt of Wonwoo’s, and whoever it was now full on pounding at the door. Causing you to exhaustedly yell, “Fucking stop it! I’m coming!”

Padding through the small apartment, you were tempted to grab a knife from the kitchen once you realized who it was. Especially when the pounding turned into some kind of beat since this asshole thought he was clever.

Ripping the door open, you were met with the bane of your existence leaning against the door frame; acting like he didn’t just use your door as his personal beat box. His attention on his cybernetic hand that he currently had out as a claw. To the Shadow District, he was Hoshi, but to you and a small group of people, he was Kwon Soonyoung. Your best friend by force more times than choice at this point.

“Finally. Thought I was going to have to claw this door down.” He mused, turning his sharp eyes on you with his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.

“And if I don’t kill you for it, Wonwoo definitely will.” You snapped, turning from open door to walk to the kitchen. Pushing off the frame, Soonyoung grabbed a plastic bag that was resting at his feet before sauntering into the apartment and closed the door behind him. “It’s too early for this.”

“It’s almost two in the afternoon.” He pointed out, and you shot him a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I worked late last night, you idiot.” You grumbled, and this made him chuckle, retracting his tiger claws so it was normal metal hand. “What are you doing here anyways? Besides pissing me off while the sun is still out.”

“Was able to get my hands one some fresh fruits, like fresh from a farm type. Wanted to share them with one of my bestest friends.” Soonyoung watched as you froze, turning toward him slowly with interest. Your eyes dropped to the plastic bag in his hand filled with strawberries, oranges, and peaches dangling from his normal hand, only for you to look back up at his face. Seeing right through him, and from the look on his face, he knew it too. “Aaaannnddd maybe some credits.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You no longer felt sleepy or even tired anymore, instead you felt a rush of anger through you. You knew that he was using the fruit to attempt to butter you up. “Why didn’t you use the credits you used on the fruit?”

“Didn’t pay for these. I actually called in a favor from a friend. Figured bring an offering to sweeten the passing of credits.”

You groaned in frustration as you snatched the bag from him. He didn’t put up a fight, instead diverting toward the sofa while you moved to the small kitchen to clean and have some of the fruit for breakfast. Frustrated that he’d known you would take the fruit, but he didn’t know you weren’t going to give him a single credit.

“Go away, Soonyoung. Come back around when you’re not wanting something from us.” You told him, waving your hand dismissively in the air. “I told you before, I am not supporting your addiction anymore. Me and Wonwoo are barely making ends meet as it is.”

The blond tsked before he said your name in a slow and condescending tone, one that made your stomach turn uncomfortably, his sharp eyes looking in your direction. Taking in that your hair was still sleep ridden, Wonwoo’s shirt was actually inside out, and your shorts peeking from under just enough to show you rushed to get dressed. Analyzing you and your blatant lie.

“See… you and I both know that is a lie.” He went to say more, but Doodle had distracted him by jumping onto the sofa, meowing, knowing perfectly well that Soonyoung would give her the attention that she was ‘desperate’ for. Reaching out to pet the feline, he finally continued. “If I’m not mistaken, but isn’t your mother still sending you your monthly allowance? With an extra two thousand credits to convince you to leave Wonwoo and come home.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You huffed out, knowing that the only reason your friend was bringing that up was because he was fiending; needing another hit to numb himself like everyone else in this city.

Tears started to sting your eyes, because you hated this side of him. The Soonyoung you once knew wouldn’t do this to you, he would never resort to blackmail, but the fiend version of him would and does with no remorse.

“Oh, we both know you do.” He responded in a calm voice, a wide smile on Soonyoung’s face as he played with Doodle. “What better way to say, ‘fuck you Mom’ than letting me use the credits to buy drugs and you can continue to live with Wonwoo and he can stay blissfully unaware of that little account.”

“Fuck you, Soonyoung.” There was a silence between you, a tense one with the only sound was Doodle’s little chirps. “Get out.”

“I guess, you’re right.” He leaned forward to peck the top of your cat’s head, with her meeting his lips with a soft headbutt. Standing, Soonyoung adjusted his ridiculously baggy pants and his compression shirt. “Wonwoo should be at the docks, right? Him and Gyu doing some recon by helping unload some freight? Maybe I should pay him a bit of a visit, see how him and that deliciously muscular man are doing.” He started toward the door, stopping as he reached for the handle, “Would be such a shame if I happen to let it slip that you’ve been hiding who you were before coming to the Shadow District… or well… ran away to it. I am pretty sure he wouldn’t like knowing the person he loves and trusts isn’t who he thought she was and is hiding a dark secret.”

“You’re a real piece of fucking work, you know that right?”

“I know, one of a kind. No one else like me. So a thousand credits sound good?” Soonyoung then turned around, crossing his arms and leaned against the door. The triumphant smile that graced his lips made your nose scrunch in disgust.

“Not a chance.” You shook your head and the smirk he was wearing started to twitch. “I can give you fifty credits.”

“Now, that isn’t going to work, but I’ll bump it down.” Soonyoung scratched his chin like he was thinking of a new total, before snapping his fingers. “Seven hundred.”

“No. Fifty credits.”

“Listen, I brought you fresh fruit!” He dropped his arms to his sides and stomped his feet childishly, but you didn’t miss the way his cybernetic fingers started to lengthen in claws. “This shit is hard to get.”

“Hard to get fresh fruit, that you didn’t pay for.” You could see the way his eyes were darkening dangerously, but you couldn’t give him the amount he wanted. You didn’t have it, and that account he referenced was one you refused to touch or even acknowledge. “I can do seventy five right now if you leave my fucking apartment.”

“You know you drive a hard bargain.” That smirk was back, and he took a few steps toward you, flexing the now clawed adorned hand. “I’ll take that seventy five, and then I am going to stroll down to those docks.” He held it up when you went to speak, and you closed your mouth. “Now, if you don’t want that, then I will gladly take two hundred credits now and your secret stays safe with me.”

“You’re an asshole.” You answered in defeat, turning away from him to wipe away a stray tear from your cheek and went to find your phone to send the credits. You didn’t want him to see you cry, knowing that this Soonyoung wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for it, nor did you want to see the way he bounced excitedly. “Don’t come back around after this, because I’m not giving you another fucking thing. Just take the credits and leave me alone.”

“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t believe you when you said this, he never did. Hell, you didn’t even believe the words that came out of your mouth. “You and I both know that you can’t live without your best friend.”

“You’re not my best friend.” You told him, your stomach sick as you sent the credits through the thin device. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes to push back any more tears and attempted to calm yourself before you threw a knife at his head. With a slow breath out, you turned to look at the stranger where Soonyoung once stood. “My best friend died the moment he got hooked on that shit. You’re just the scum that came out of the ashes.”

“Ah, haven’t been referred to as a Phoenix before. I think I prefer tigers still.” He was able to hear the hurt in your voice, he was able to see the pain in your eyes, but he didn’t care. He was too excited that he was able to get high on your credits. “Pleasure doing business with you. Let me know how Wonwoo likes the strawberries. Made sure to grab those for him.”

“Just leave.” You looked away from him, your words felt more like a plea then a demand, one that he actually listened to. But only cause he had what he wanted.

You heard the door open, and his heavy boots walk through the threshold, but you didn’t hear the door close.

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” He spoke slowly, his voice still smug, but there was something softer to it. Like for a moment, your best friend was trying to push past the fiend. “Seokmin saw notices on Holiday. Eviction notices.” Your back stiffened at those words, that sick feeling in your stomach turned into acid in your throat, but you didn’t look back at him. Holiday was a street right before the Shadow District. “I think you and I both know what that means.”

You knew perfectly well what that meant.

“Guess you can’t run from your mom or Skyfall forever.” And with that, Soonyoung closed the door behind him. Leaving you to stand there, next to the counter filled with the fruits he brought.

Tainted with blackmail and betrayal, but that was nothing compared to the anger and fear that you were feeling by his parting words. You felt like you were thrown off kilter, your body no longer felt like yours but the intense emotions that coursed through you.

After all these years that you lied to yourself that the Shadow District wouldn’t be touched by the filthy hands of those rich bastards. Convincing yourself that the home you found here with Wonwoo, with your friends, didn’t always have a looming threat at your door. That you could go a lifetime without seeing her.

It had been years since you ran, but it was still not enough time. It was never enough time to stay away.

The frustrated scream that left you didn’t sound like you, it was raw and from somewhere deep inside you, as you angrily swiped the fruit off the counter and onto the ground. Forgetting that you had pulled out a knife to cut them up and sliced your hand.

“Fuck!” You grasped your wrist, blood starting to come out of the cut, more tears breaking through. Sinking to the ground, you let out a wail as your cried. You were in pain, you were hurting deeper than pain, you were scared.

You were naïve to think that anywhere was safe. Safe from her, safe from Skyfall Industries, safe from the suffocating feeling of greed that came to be a constant in this greedy city.

You lied to Wonwoo when he came home that day, told him that you cut yourself slicing up the fruit Soonyoung had dropped off. Worked it in a way that you wanted him to believe that you had bought them from him, refused to say what happened during your former best friend’s visit, but adamant that the cut happened after he left.

You tried not to look at him when his left eye lens flickered as he scanned your body but failed. Allowing him to read your vitals, take any changes in them, but he didn’t question you further despite of what he’d seen. He didn’t even need to scan you though, unable to hide your distress. That something had happened with Soonyoung, and something deadly started to stir.

He could’ve easily leave, find Soonyoung and put a knife to his throat for upsetting you, for making you feel like you needed to lie to him, but he didn’t. Wonwoo was the quick tempered type, and he had no problem punching or stabbing someone instead of talking it out or walk away, especially when it came to you. But Wonwoo also knew that there was some things that he couldn’t resolve with violence.

Soonyoung, unfortunately, was one of those some things. You were too protective over him, no matter how much the fiend hurt you, but he knew that there was more to it. And whatever that fiend had over you, it kept you from cutting him off. It kept you from telling him.

“Earth to Wonwoo,” Vernon spoke up, pulling the older man from his thoughts and turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. The younger man was sitting on a filing cabinet that was in the corner of Jihoon’s office, one arm resting on his knee while his head leaned back against the wall. “I know it sucks down here, but we are talking business.”

“Sorry.” Wonwoo answered with a sigh, his eyes moved toward the other two men in the room. Jihoon was sitting at his desk chair, his attention on the tablet in his hands and not on the rest on the room. Mingyu was leaning against the wall next to the door, and his attention on his best friend, sensing something was up the moment he saw him. “What was the question again?”

“What did you see in the boxes from the dock yesterday?” Jihoon repeated, and a scoff left Vernon when he did. “Mingyu said you saw something in some of the boxes.”

“It wasn’t what I saw, it was what I didn’t see.” Wonwoo could hear Mingyu murmuring an apology for getting it wrong and leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. This made Jihoon finally look at him. “That and where they were going.”

“What you mean you couldn’t see?” It was Vernon who spoke, another scoff leaving him as he looked for a pack of cigarettes in the pockets of his jumpsuit, not caring that he received a dark look. “Thought that hacked ass eye of yours could see through shit. You know through thermal scans or some shit.”

“I am not above putting a knife through your own fucking eye. Make you just like me.” Wonwoo warned, which only earned another cocky laugh. The cybernetic-free punk ass knew that he wasn’t joking or bluffing, but they just didn’t give a shit, making his hand twitch toward the knife that he kept hidden away.

“Just get to it.” Jihoon snapped, shooting his own dark look toward both of them. “Why couldn’t you see?”

“Most the boxes, easy to scan and act like I am verifying cargo, but there was about three or four large ones. Couldn’t get a reading at all.” Adjusting in his seat, Wonwoo continued to speak. “Boxes came up empty, but they were definitely not.”

“Took ten of us just to move one onto the truck.” Mingyu grumbled, sounding annoyed that he had to be reminded of the labor he had to do. “No way we were going to be able to move those with the forklift.”

“Well, where are they taking them?” Vernon asked, while Jihoon looked between the two men before them.

“The Factory.” Mingyu answered. The Factory was a warehouse on the dock, typically a storage unit for parts until they are shipped to facilities to build or specialize in installing them on people.  

“Why is that so weird? Everything goes there.” Jihoon sat the tablet down onto his desk to stand, a low grimace sketched over his face, his hand reaching down to massage his leg only to be met with metal. The rest of the group watched in silence as Jihoon schooled his expression and cautiously took steps away from his desk.

“That’s their first stop. The next stop is an address on Holiday. Skyfall Cybernetics Shop, but the address is a set of apartments right now.” This brought an uncomfortable silence over them, one that even Vernon was part of. This was too close to home, and none of them wanted to actually say what it could mean. After a heartbeat of silence, Wonwoo was the one to say it, “This is becoming more than stealing parts.”

“You’re right.” Jihoon nodded, not looking toward anyone as he tried to pace but only manage an awkward limp. Without thinking, Wonwoo’s left eye flickered behind his glasses, scanning his friend and boss to analyze him. Checked for anything different in his vitals.

Jihoon may have been good at keeping himself levelheaded in front of his crew, he never liked showing his worry nor when he was in pain, but he couldn’t hide it away from Wonwoo. And it wasn’t like it was something he typically did, he wouldn’t just scan his friends unless he felt like he needed to, but something told him to do it, and he was right to. Not only was his friend in pain, but he could tell by the increased vitals that there was more than that.

This was more than a simple heist job, this was more than stealing a few parts for a few thousand credits to split. They could easily still go on with the job, focus on the parts on the list and ignore the large boxes since they weren’t what they were looking for. But if Skyfall Industries took the steps to make it where not even scanners could penetrate the boxes, then that possibly meant more security so their usual ways weren’t going to cut it.

It caused the unspoken question hang heavy among the four of them. Was taking this job a good idea after all?

A familiar rhythmic knock broke through the silence that had followed Jihoon’s words, causing the four of them to look toward the opening door. It was Soonyoung, practically skipping into the room with wide eyes, pupils completely blown out, and his skin had a glow to it. His blond hair spiked up, and it was a surprise that the corner of his lips weren’t splitting from the size of his shit eating grin he wore.

The fucking fiend was on a high, and it was obvious to the rest of the people in the room. No scan was needed for this.

“Why hello there gentlemen. Lovely day isn’t it?” He said with a chirpy voice, shooting a smug look toward Wonwoo as he went to close the door. Like he was rubbing something into his face without saying what it was, and that deadly feeling started to stir inside again.

His thoughts went back to when he had come home to you, your hand wrapped in gauze and a few droplets of blood that you missed on the floor. He thought back to how you wouldn’t look at him when you told him that you did it while cutting fruit, the fruit that you ‘bought’ off Soonyoung, and the way your voice was raspy but still full of tears. You made him promise to not go and off the fiend, that he had nothing to do with your hand or your state.

And Wonwoo tried to keep his promise to you, even though he didn’t believe you, because you were so protective over Soonyoung. But that smug look on that mother fucker’s face, while your teary and sad look was burned into his brain, snapped something in him. He was out of his seat before he could stop himself.

A hiss of pain left Soonyoung when Wonwoo slammed him against the door, the doorknob jabbing into his back while a knife was pressed to his throat. Pinning him to the office door and made the three other men yell in surprise.

“You got some fucking nerve showing your face around me right now.” Wonwoo hissed, pressing his sharp knife to Soonyoung’s jugular, more than willing to slice his neck open. “Not after how you left my girl yesterday.”

“Oh that…” Soonyoung sighed dramatically, his cybernetic hand resting on Wonwoo’s arm with the tips of the metal fingers lengthened to sharp claws. A warning from the fiend, but Wonwoo didn’t care. He was seeing so much red that it triggered his fake eye to turn the bright color behind his glasses, and Soonyoung’s smug look turned sadistic. Wonwoo wanted to end him right then and there, ready to watch him bleed out on Jihoon’s office floor. “You’re being so dramatic, all I did was sell her some fruit.”

“You drugged up mother fucker.” The words came out like venom which switched something in Soonyoung, because his blown out eyes flashed and the claws of his hand started to rip the sleeves of his coat. His unserious warning now turning deadly in its own right. Either of them could kill the other right then and there easily.

Neither man would do it though. Wonwoo wouldn’t because he would lose you for good if he did, while there was still shards of the old Soonyoung inside the fiend somewhere that stopped him. Except it didn’t stop them from wanting to, and that was enough to have the other men on them quickly.

Mingyu’s tight grip on Soonyoung’s metal wrist, attempting to loosen his hold on him while Vernon and Jihoon attempted to pull Wonwoo away. Especially the hand that held the knife to the fiend’s throat.

“Let go of him.” Jihoon commanded, while the three men struggled to pull them apart. “Do you think she would be happy with you if you killed him?”

“Yeah, Wonwoo baby.” That smug look was back, but this time there was something sinister and wild to it. He was getting off on this, and it only made Wonwoo’s grip tighten on his knife. “Be a good boy and listen to Jihoonie. Don’t want your princess unhappy with you, do you?”

“Soonyoung shut up, or we will let him kill you and help him lie about what happened to you.” Jihoon scowled, then leaned closer toward Wonwoo. His voice softer in hopes that will help defuse the situation. “Come on, he’s trying to get you to do something stupid. He’s not worth it.”

“Wonwoo…” Mingyu also tried to reason with him, his dark eyes on the older man and were filled with concern.

After a moment, Wonwoo finally pulled the knife away and stepping back while Soonyoung released his grip. The metal claws retracting back to fingers, while his human hand went to his neck to run over the skin where the knife was pressed into him, checking to see if blood was drawn. Only to be disappointed to find that Wonwoo didn’t leave any nicks on him, unable to find a reason to villainize him.

“You should thank her.” Wonwoo told the fiend flatly, more distance created as the two youngest of the group stepped between them. Vernon’s eyes on Soonyoung and Mingyu’s on Wonwoo, both wearing unsure looks on their faces. Neither trusted the fiend or Wonwoo to go back after each other. “If it wasn’t for her, I would have killed you long ago.”

“How generous of you.” Soonyoung was dry with his words, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. The claws were completely put away, but his sharp eyes were still wild and shining with dare. Daring Wonwoo to come at him again.

“Enough.” Jihoon demanded, a hiss of pain followed when he took unsteady steps back from the situation. With a hand planted on the desk, the shorter man shifted on his feet to take pressure of his cybernetic leg. “What are you doing here, Soonyoung? We’re not interested in your bullshit today.”

“Jihoonie. My baby, the love of my life, the sparkle to my eye…”

“I am none of those things to you.” Jihoon sneered while Soonyoung clutched his chest as he changed the sweet talk to hurt.

“…You wound my heart. You wound my soul.” Soonyoung let out an over exaggerated wail, and the rest of the men in the room rolled their eyes. When he wasn’t going to get any other reaction out of them, Soonyoung just sighed and crossed his arms. “I came by just to see my favorite boytoy…”

“Not your boytoy.”

“…But I couldn’t help but overhear when opening the door that you guys were talking about Holiday.” The way the fiend’s lip twitched into a smirk, and it was clear that he found a way to take advantage for his own gain. “I think I may have some information that may benefit you.”

“I’m not paying you shit for whatever you have.” Jihoon saw right through him, just like the rest did. Wonwoo found his place back in his chair, more slouched as he glared at the fiend while the two younger went back to their places in the office. Though Mingyu was standing closer toward Soonyoung, ready to grab him if needed. “I don’t have some promise to not kill you going, so you can either tell me, or I’ll shoot you in the shin.”

“That’s one way to get me on my knees for you baby, but for a few credits, I’ll do it without the bullet.” He went to take a step further into the office, but with a sharp nod from Jihoon, he was stopped by Mingyu. Keeping him by the door and acted as the line in the sand.

“Just get with it.” It was Vernon who spoke, perched back on the filing cabinet, and sounding just as fed up the rest of them. “You’re not going to extort us like you do others. With us, aside from wiped boy over here,” He smirked when he earned a dirty look and a finger from Wonwoo, “you’ll either tell us, you keep your mouth shut, or the next parts you get will not be cosmetic.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.” Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine…I’ll tell you…”

Growing up, you’d always heard about the Shadow District from the people around you. To the adults in your life, it was seen as a cesspool of filth and crime. They viewed the people who resided there as criminals and low life individuals with no hope or place in their future society. The area was supposedly so bad that not even your mother or the rest of the elites at Skyfall wanted to set foot in or even want to touch.

They viewed it as a lost cause and ordered others around your age to stay away.

To your peers, they had shared the same view as the adults, that only criminals and low lives lived there but that didn’t stop many of them from venturing over. Mostly to buy the drugs that were offer, addicting and fun party favors to take to the parties they would throw in their empty penthouse apartments, try to sneak into the roughest bars and clubs, or whatever else teens did to cause problems. They saw going into the district as a challenge, when really all it was were cries of attention that their parents would never give.

To Soonyoung, the boy whose mom raised you more than your own mother did, it was home. He was the only person you knew that would talk about the Shadow District in a positive light, making sure you knew that was still beauty beyond the stories that others would tell you. That deep past the crime and poverty, it had a community stronger than anywhere else in the city.

People weren’t fake as the ones in West Hills Parkway where you grew up, or any other rich area in Huimang. Good but guarded people, even if many lost their way in their fight to survive because of the elites running the rest of the city. They were all more than just stolen cybernetics, drugs that would numb them enough to live another day or had to break laws to make ends meet.

He would always talk about taking you there, so he could show you that beauty behind the ugly. Even joking that he was sure you would find a sense of belonging there instead of the world you grew up in and was expected to assimilate to what everyone else expected you to be.

Because in the Shadow District, no one expected you to behave a certain way, no one expected you to be perfect there. No one cared enough, because they all had their own shit to worry about. There you could be anyone you wanted, disappear and become a completely different person than who you were. It was a reality you dreamt to be in, no matter how dark it was, and at one point those jokes stopped being just jokes.

So, the first time Soonyoung took you there, you had finally ran away from your old life and a version of you that wasn’t real. You ran away from the expectations that were laid before you, the evils that were behind the closed doors of Skyfall, left behind a last name that never felt was yours, and changing yourself to someone different.

You became someone else, just another soul trying to survive like everyone else around you.

It hadn’t been easy by any means. You weren’t proud of some of the things that you did along the way, having to adapt and change to survive, but you were happier. Eventually you met Wonwoo, someone who wasn’t meant to be anything more than a dick to ride and a bed to sleep in for the night and fell in love. It was still hard, but together you made it work with him giving you love and shelter while you returned that love and made that shelter a place you both could call home.

You lost a lot over the years for your choices, family and friends, but you also gained just as many. You were free to be who you were and free from your mother’s control, her demands. You were struggling, but you were happy.

But that all came crashing down after Soonyoung’s recent visit, pulling out that flicker of fear you hid away by everything else. The fear that Skyfall would decide that the Shadow District and its real estate was worth their attention. Now, you had to face the reality.

The reality that your past is catching up to you, the reality that Wonwoo will learn of the who you used to be and ran from. Find out that you’ve lied to him for so long. It distracted you, it clouded your thoughts, made you keep looking over your shoulder as you walked to work and was late. The night didn’t get any better either.

Chan snapped his fingers to bring you out of your thoughts, bringing back to Cherries’ busy bar and the full tray of drinks waiting for one of your tables. He raised his brow to you, silently questioning where your head was that night, and all you could do was force a smile at him. It was meant to be your way of telling him you were fine, but your lips felt tight over your teeth. You could only hope that he bought it or didn’t care enough to believe it.

The only response you got from Chan was a shrug, moving away from you to tend to the other customers and servers waiting for their drinks. You picked up the full tray of drinks and carefully balanced them as you made your way through the crowded club. Easily maneuvering through the groups of people standing together, too focused on not bumping into anyone and get to the table with their order, so you weren’t paying attention to the faces of the people around you.

So when a hand reached out and caught you by the hip, it startled you and nearly caused you to drop the tray. Rebalancing yourself, you twisted your head where the hand that held onto you came from, a frown playing over your features. The owner was a smug business type at one of the booths, sleek expensive clothes, hair styled back that people like to see as ‘professional’, and the cybernetics weren’t for because he needed it. They purely for aesthetic and status purposes.

Especially with the type of metal that was used, the highest of qualities that was buffed to shine. It would have looked nice with the flashing lights hitting it, had it been on anyone else and they didn’t touch you like you were a toy to grab. With a jerk of your hips, you pulled yourself away from his touch as a sickening feeling crept up you from where his hand was. Like you just touched poison.

“I will be right back with you.” You yelled over the music, taking a step away from the table to your destination when they spoke your name. You froze on the spot.

It wasn’t because he called you by your first name, most of the patrons here knew it. It was the last name. Your old last name. Your mother’s last name.

“It’s you isn’t it?” He had stood from his seat, you felt him take a step toward you and reach for you again.

“No.” You responded, shooting him a dirty look and pushed forward through the crowd. Blood rushed through your ears, not liking that he still had that smug look on his face, a mixture of anger and panic coursing through you.

You don’t recognize him, it had been so long since you’d seen anyone from your past that they all became nothing but blur of faces and metals, so you couldn’t think of his name or what family he was from. Except he recognized you. You were cybernetic free and looked nearly the same as you did when you ran, just older, more mature, and signs of you learning to survive. He recognized you and called you out by your old name.

As you got closer to the table you were serving, you decided that you were going to circle back to the bar from the other side of the club and get one of the other girls to help him and his table. Maybe even avoid this side for the rest of the night.

It all happened quickly after that. You were so lost in your plans that you missed a girl taking a step back, and you collided right into her. The tray full of drinks flew through the air, splashing the people sitting at the table and everyone standing around them while you landed on the ground with a thud.

The girl who had tripped you was quick to help you up, apologizing to you as you apologized profusely to the people at the table. Your hands moved quickly to grab all the spilled glasses and rush to the bar to get towels from Chan; who was already had a stack of small of them on the bar to help clean up. His expression unreadable, with a new set of glasses already out so he could remake their drinks.

You cleaned up the mess the best you could and was able to get the new drinks to them, while Seungkwan, your manager, tried to placate one of the girls in the group. She was the only one who didn’t get hit with alcohol, but she made a fuss and complained to him about you. Not giving a single damn if she was being truthful or that you were still standing there.

“Go get some air,” Seungkwan spoke to you at one point, cutting off the girl to do so and she looked like she was ready to explode. “I will talk to you when I am done here.”

With a solemn nod, you turned to head to the back of the club. With a glance toward the bar, you saw Chan give you a sympathetic look but was quick to return back to his job, so he wasn’t joining you in getting yelled at. You couldn’t blame him for that, because you didn’t want to be in this position either.

The back of the club was a private alley, one that was fenced off by Cherries’ owner Seungcheol so that not only was there no issues with inventory deliveries, but so his staff had somewhere to hide away. It stopped them from being harassed when they would go smoke or be able to take a breather away from a busy night. It was the only club in the area that did this, and you were grateful that you worked there and not anywhere else.

The cool night air felt like a relief to your hot and sweat covered skin, instantly relaxing you as you breathed in the smell of rain and a permanent smell of oil. It grounded you, giving you the chance to center yourself and remind yourself that you were better than this.

The sound of the back door opening caused you to twist around as Seungkwan walked out with a cigarette in his hand. Leaning against the wall, he took his time lighting the wrapped tobacco and let the heavy door shut before speaking.

“You going to tell me what happened in there?” He asked, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air before his tongue pressed against his cheek, and the brief respite you had was taken away. “I had to comp two rounds of drinks just now, and not to mention, Chan has been saying you been acting strange all night.” He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowed. “Are you on something?”

“What? No, of course not.” You answered tensely, not liking that he accused you of that. “I just have a lot on my mind. I wasn’t paying attention as well as I should have.” Looking down at your hands, purposely leaving out your encounter with the nameless guy. No one here knew you by that name, and you couldn’t afford it getting out. “I’m sorry. I will do better.”

There was a beat of silence, and you cast your gaze nervously up toward Seungkwan, only to see his eyes were on his cigarette and not you, his expression hard to read. Which made your stomach churn uncomfortably since your manager was an expressive man, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He made sure that he said what was on his mind, even if it got him in trouble or hurt someone’s feelings.

“Listen…” He finally spoke as he blew out another cloud of smoke then licked his lips. “The first rule at Cherries is plain and simple, whatever shit you have going on in your life is left at the door. You’re here to work, not fucking worry about shit that has nothing to do with this place.”

“I know, Kwan. I am…”

“Sorry. Yeah, I know. You guys always are.” A scoff left him as he said this, taking a final drag of his cigarette then dropped it into a small rain puddle next to him. “You’re paying for all the drinks I had to comp tonight, Chan's tallying it all up now and will be taking it from your tips and earnings tonight.”

Hearing these words made you feel sick, that churning turned sour and felt like bile was already creeping up. After Soonyoung’s blackmail, you couldn’t have this happen since those credits you just lost was needed to recover that loss and for rent. You couldn’t afford to lose another credit, not when you weren’t sure what the payoff was for the job Jihoon had Wonwoo doing.

And you refused to touch that account your mother had for you.

“Understood.” You told him after a long moment of silence on your part, forced to accept this fate of yours. There was no point in arguing with Seungkwan without giving too much away, without giving yourself away. You were in a lose/lose situation here.

“I know that it seems unfair, but you got lucky here since we have fired others for less.” Seungkwan went to grab the door handle to go back inside, before stopping and looking at you with a resigned expression. “Guess is pays that Cheol has a soft spot for Wonwoo, or you wouldn’t just be paying for those drinks, you’d be looking for another job. Take a few minutes to get your head right and then get back in here. We need you tonight, or I would’ve sent your ass home.”

With that, he disappeared through the large metal door. His words echoed through your brain, the contempt he had when he mentioned your boyfriend’s name and his pull with the Cherries’ owner. And by proxy you as well.

You took that few minutes before returning to your job and managed to finish the night with no further mistakes, but you were not able to push your thoughts away. After what happened that night, that nameless guy who knew you by your old name, and Skyfall Industries finally deciding that the Shadow District was worthy for their development, you couldn’t ignore the crushing realization that the two worlds you knew were colliding.

It was early in the morning when you got home and was surprised to see Wonwoo already up and in the kitchen making coffee. With his hair sticking up in different directions, one eye barely open while the other stayed shut, his face still had the indents of his pillow, and sleep still heavy on him. He wasn't in anything more than a pair of dark grey boxers, giving you a perfect view of the rest of his body.

A lean muscular frame with naturally broad shoulders, long legs, and strong arms that was normally hidden away by dark heavy clothes due to the scars that littered on different places on his body. Old wounds from fights he got into over the years, from the accident that caused him to lose his left eye, and from other stupid shit he did. You were seeing one of the barest version of him, a version that only you see, and it was your favorite.

When he looked at you, it made your heart squeeze when a sleepy smile broke across his lips, and a hand reach out to you. One that you reached for without hesitation, your body moving without needing to think too much about it, just ready to be in his presence.

"Hey baby." His voice was rough, his fingers interlocking with yours to pull you into him, before his lips found the top of your head. Pressing them against your hair, before breathing you in. "You smell good."

"I smell gross." You giggle softly, tilting your head so that his lips could find yours. The soft press of his lips helped loosen some of the tension that was clinging to you, but not enough to help you forget. You still had to tell him about that you lose money instead of bringing any home.

"I don't think so." He shook his head, before pressed another kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, his brows then furrowed when he saw your face. "What's wrong? Did something happen at work?"

"Just had a shitty night. Spilled a tray of alcohol all over a table full of people, and Seungkwan was not happy because he had to comp two rounds of drinks." You answered with a small voice and attempted to turn away from him but one of his hands grasped your face to stop you. It hurt to see that smile gone, and concern shine through his eye. "I ended up having to pay for the drinks that we lost today and was told I am lucky that I wasn’t fired." You let out a shaky sigh, "We needed those credits."

You earned silence from your boyfriend, the frown deepened and his eye stayed on you. The sleep that was still clinging to him when you walked in gone, with only the physical signs left. The arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist had tightened, pressing you more against his near bare frame, while the hand on your face held you there. His expression was dark, and it made you slightly nervous.

"I'm sorry…" Your voice sounded small, and this earned a dark laugh from Wonwoo, his thumb brushing against your cheek affectionately. "I'll talk to Seungcheol when he's in next and see if I can get an extra shift to make up for what I lost today."

"Don't worry about it. Shit happens." Wonwoo shook his head, though his expression didn’t changed and his tone was sharper. You knew that he was pissed with you, it wasn't hard to read him when he was like this, but he was holding himself back.

A fight wasn’t something either of you needed, and it left a heavy tension between you both. You avoided his gaze that was searching your face, threatening to pull your secrets that now lingered under the surface than buried deep without the help of his eye. With one look, he would know everything you hid from him, and you would lose everything. You couldn’t have that.

“I love you.” You finally said after a long beat of silence, your fingers brushing against the back of the hand that held your face as you pressed yourself against him. Your eyes flicked up toward his, wanting to be sure that he saw the tip of your tongue run over your bottom lip before you leaned forward to kiss the curve of his collarbone.

“I love you too, but what’s going on? You haven’t—fuck.” A soft groan left him when your mouth moved to his neck, kissing the kiss as your free hand moved down between you. Your hand slid over the fabric of his underwear, cupping his hardened cock through the thin material.

You weren't proud of what you were doing, but it was the only way to distract him. You weren't ready for it all to come out. You weren't ready for him to walk away and hate you.

"Everything is fine, don’t worry." You lied, grateful that he didn't have his left eye in, or he would’ve seen right through you, and used it to your advantage, pulling from his hold to move your mouth over his chest. You earned a moan from him when your teeth grazed his skin, massaging the twitching bulge with your hand, and gave the thick member a gentle squeeze.

"Don't… ah… think I don't know what you're doing." Wonwoo managed to get out with effort, his right eye watching as you slipped down onto your knees. Not caring that you were still in the deep red dress that you had worn that night for work, because you were on a mission. You left a reminder of yourself on his hip, fingers hooking the band of his underwear to pull down. Freeing his cock from its confides.

You chose to not respond, your thighs pressed together at the sight of him, so easily ready for you. His fingers brushed against your hairline, and you looked up to him while your own wrapped around his length, catching the way his face contorted in pleasure when you tentatively stroked him. Mouth slightly opened, with breathy moans escaped while he tried to keep his one eye open to take in the way you looked for him.

Wonwoo went to speak you name in a stern voice, but it was lost when your mouth brushed the tip of his cock before planting an open mouth kiss on it. Pulling back, you gathered some spit in your mouth to dribble it onto his length, coating it with your hand so it easier to stroke what you couldn't fit into your mouth.

The hand that had been brushing your hairline now was going to grip at your hair when you finally took him between your lips, taking nearly half of him in one go and ignored the need to gag when it hit the back of your throat. Wonwoo's head dropped back, no longer concerned over anything exchanged between the two of you, already lost in you. Too lost in the wet heat of your mouth and your tongue pressed against his underneath.

Your hand moved in sync of your mouth, at a pace that he liked, and took him as far down your throat as you could go. It left your boyfriend a mess before you, his grip on your hair tightened but wouldn't take control. The sight of him from this angle made you clench around nothing, your already wet underwear stick to your cunt uncomfortably. To relief the feeling, you slipped a free hand between your thighs.

The feeling of your touch over the covered heat caused you do a quick inhale through your nose that was followed by a whimper. The sound made Wonwoo's head to snap forward, prying open his eye to take in the sight of you. Your mouth stretched over his cock, lips red, and eyes glossed over. Your red dress pushed up your hips and giving him view of one of your hands between your legs, touching yourself while you pleasured him.

The sight made him twitch in your mouth, and found himself quickly near the edge, but Wonwoo was a greedy man. He wanted his as well as yours and watching as you touched yourself as you worked to give him his own was not enough. He needed to feel it himself, he felt like a fiend needing their fix.

With a firm tug of your hair, Wonwoo pulled you off his cock, a groan left his lips when he saw a string of spit trail from your mouth to his cock.

"Get up." He commanded, releasing your hair to help you stand. His own hands rough as he moved you how he wanted you, and you let him. Loving the way he would handle you and took control.

The smell of coffee and sex filled the small apartment as you rested your arms onto the kitchen counter while Wonwoo took his place behind you. He pushed the dress up so that it was now at your waist, and your ruined underwear pulled down. The cook air of the apartment had sent shivers through you when it meat your wet head, leaving you to be the one whimpering.

"Wonwoo…" You weren't sure what you were going to say after this, his name felt right on your tongue in that moment. Especially when you felt the thick head of his cock tease your wet slit, catching your opening just right and you attempted to push your hips back. "Please."

"You know, I have to leave soon…" The words were slightly muffled, Wonwoo's mouth pressed against your shoulder. He continued to tease you, knowing that it would make you lose your mind. "I am supposed to meet Vernon out on the dock today." You found it funny that he said this while he took his time, wording it like it's your fault. It was, but you only intended to suck him off. "Good thing that fucking prick is always late."

You went to respond, only for your mouth to drop when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and filled you completely in one thrust. It made your eyes roll, the stretch was enough to numb your own mind of everything that was playing in it. This may have started to distract him, but the way he filled you and the way his body enveloped you, maybe you needed this yourself.

Wonwoo didn't stay still too long, pulling back until he was only half out, before snapping his hips forward. The force of the thrust jerked you into the counter, causing your grip to tighten on the counter’s edge to steady yourself. A soft cry left you as you attempted to meet his thrusts but his grip on your hips stopped you. It left you to take what he gave you.

His breath hot against your shoulder as he fucked you in the middle of your shared kitchen, each thrust felt rougher than the last. Filling the apartment with the sounds of skin slapping, the moans that left you both, and the slick sounds of his cock plunging into your cunt. Every time you squeezed around him a string of curses left him, loosening his grip on your hips enough to adjust and pulled you to an upright position.

Your back pressed against his chest, while his mouth was on your neck, running his tongue over the sweat that was starting to collect from your activities. His hands roamed your body as one of your own reached back to grab his hair, trying to find an anchor at the new angle of his thrusts. No longer was he the only mess in this, you were too.

"Wonwoo." You whimpered out his name, with tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling your release almost within reach. Slipping a hand between your legs, you started to desperately rubbing your clit to help him push you over.

Your release hit you harder than you expected, your knees nearly buckled and was more than grateful that you were being held up in that moment. Wonwoo's release quickly followed with a low groan in your ear, and kept you anchored against him. Your breathing labored as you came down from your highs.

Dropping your head back against his shoulder, your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Don't worry too much about the money right now," He murmured against your skin, pulling out of you after a few moments and turned you to face him. Skin flushed, sweat falling from his brow, breathing came out in slight pants, as he looked at you with one eye. "This job that Jihoon is having us do will bring in a decent amount of credits each and bring more parts to the district." He smiled softly. "It'll be enough to keep us comfortable for a while, and maybe even enough to get you, me, and Doodle out of the city. Start over somewhere new."

It was something he always said when Jihoon had him do a job, it was a promise that he kept trying to speak into fruition. It would bring you hope every time he would say it, but this time, it only brought back that uncomfortable twist in your stomach.

“I don’t see why we’re still trying to do this job.” Vernon muttered, blowing smoke from his cigarette, and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at the dock with Wonwoo. The two had been tasked to stake out the Factory and report back to Jihoon, “Look at the fucking place. Covered in guards that look more like cyborgs than human. What the fuck do they have that needs that much security?”

“Whatever was in those boxes.” Wonwoo answered, declining the pack of cigarettes the younger had offered him. He was tempted, but he didn’t want to pull his mask down as his eyes stayed trained on the building. His eye flickered every so often as he took photos of the large warehouse and the guards that patrolled it, while making sure to notes any patterns he caught. “Jihoon wants us to get photos and videos of everything.”

“Better be so that he can demand more credits if they really want us to do this.” Vernon scoffed as a set of cars pulled up to the Factory’s entrance. Sleek vehicles that screamed status and money. “Hazard pay or whatever the fuck it’s called.”

“That and he’s brought the Angel in to help. If these guards are more parts than human, then we’ll need his help and insight on this.”

“We’re definitely fucked if he had to bring that asshole in.” Vernon grumbled as he pulled his beanie further onto his head and Wonwoo let out a huff of a laugh. They watched one of the car doors open so a woman could get out.

She was older, dark red suit, hair perfectly styled, and a heavy aura of power that clung to her like a second skin. It was clear she was someone important as she was greeted by one of the guards, something that he made sure to note. Then she briefly looked in their direction, and Wonwoo felt a sudden familiarity to her.

The woman was then joined by two more men from the other car, all talking with the guard before making their way into the building. Not before Wonwoo’s eye was able to zoom in and get some photos of all of them. Included in them was a good shot of the woman’s face, and it was then he started to realize that she looked like you, but an older version. There was subtle differences, but it was like he was seeing you over twenty years in the future.

“That woman looks like Y/N.” Vernon pointed out, not looking in Wonwoo’s direction to see that he was having a moment himself. “But like older, richer, and probably a bigger bitch.” The older man shot him a look that Vernon caught. “What? I ain’t saying she’s a bitch all the time, but the girl bites.”

“Don’t I know it.” Wonwoo answered, the photo of the woman still on the screen of his eye. Analyzing her features and matching them to  you with something unsettling in his stomach. He had known you weren’t a native to the Shadow District when he met you, but he remembered you  telling him that you had no family and the closest to family you had was Soonyoung.

He didn’t have a reason to not believe you, it was just sex. It wasn’t important at the time, and the subject of your family had been a sore spot for you. Now looking at this woman, her likeness to you, it made him wonder if you had lied to him.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” Vernon’s bored tone tore Wonwoo from his thoughts, as well as his attention from the building to look in his direction to see he had lit another cigarette.

“I’m sorry, but do you have some other plans that you need to get to?” The words came out harsher than he intended, which earned a sneer from Vernon. “You haven’t shut the fuck up since we got here.”

“Well seeing as this shit keeps getting more complicated, not to mention the looming reality that Skyfall is kicking people out of their homes for whatever ‘redevelopment’ bullshit they have going on. I would say that my bitching and lack of wanting to be on a fucking suicide mission is reasonable.” Vernon waved his hand toward Wonwoo. “I honestly don’t see what this is supposed to accomplish having us fucking sit here? This place fucking stinks of fish and oil, and all that’s going on is you’re taking pictures with that fuck ass eye of yours.” The laugh that left him was bitter. “This surveillance we are doing isn’t going to do shit for us when those fucking things are guarding this shit.”

“Jihoon isn’t holding a gun to your head to do this, you know that right? You don’t have to be part of this.”

“Nah, I rather get the credits.” This answer made Wonwoo roll his eyes, before shaking his head. “I am going to take off though. This shit doesn’t need both of us.” Vernon then pushed off the set of boxes they’d been perched on since early that morning and gave him a nod. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but you annoy the shit out of me, so bye.”

“Yeah, go fuck yourself.” Despite the harsh words, the two did a weird handshake before Vernon was gone. Leaving Wonwoo to finish getting a few more shots and videos, and when he looked back to the building, he caught the woman had excited to go back to her car. As if she was able to feel his eyes on her, she looked in his direction and made eye contact with him.

Wonwoo had his face hidden pretty well, with a mask covering most of his face and his glasses covering the other half. His beanie and thick hood covered his hair, so she had no idea what he looked like, but it didn’t feel that way with the way she looked at him. Like she knew exactly who he was.

He didn’t look away either, taking several more photos of her with his eyes; ones of her head on. No longer caring what he was there for as the realization that she was someone to you, and from the similarities, family, hit him hard.

She then smirked at him before she slipped into the back of the car, letting the driver close the door behind her. Wonwoo didn’t move, catching images of the plates of as the vehicle left the docks.

 Several blocks from the docks, you couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried. After sex with Wonwoo didn’t work, you tried to take a hot shower, drank some tea that you were saving, read, laid in silence, laid with a window open so you could hear the street below, but sleep still didn’t happen. You ended up giving up and found yourself on the sofa, wrapped up in your boyfriend’s clothes that smelled like him, and Doodle laid on your lap purring softly.

The comforting feeling of his Wonwoo’s clothes, his smell, and the soft purrs of your pet grounded you, but it didn’t settle anything. You weren’t sure if you wanted to scream and cry in despair and worry or throw and punch things in anger and rage. Nor were you sure where to direct it all.

At life. At your mother and Skyfall Industries. Or at yourself for making this worse by keeping this secret from Wonwoo as long as you did.

The knock at the door and Doodle rushing off the sofa in a panic startled you. The feline stopped once one the floor to look at the door, her eyes wide and pupils dilated in fear before disappearing when another knock came. Her reaction was unusual and didn’t sit right with you as you slipped off the sofa.

When you reached the door, you cautiously looked through the peephole to see who was there, and your mouth went dry. Standing there was a woman with an annoyed and mildly disgusted look on her face and looked like she would rather be anywhere else. The sight of her stirred emotions that you remembered feeling every day growing up.

“I would recommend opening up.” She sighed as she adjusted her expensive designer bag onto her other arm. “I know you are there, and this is no way to treat your mother after all these years.” You didn’t move, or say anything in response, that earned another sigh from her as she spoke your name. “I think it would be wise to open this door, or I will have my men pick up that boyfriend of yours for sniffing around the Factory.”

She knew that would get what she wanted when you ripped open the door with a snarl to your lips.

“You touch him, and I will kill you without a second though.” You seethed to your uncaring mother, who just laughed and shook her head. “What do you want?”

“I wasn’t going to be in the area and pass up a chance to see my daughter.” She pushed past you, her shoulder bumping against yours while she took in the sight of the small apartment. Her eyes moved from the old furniture to the run down cat tree in one corner of the living room, then to the small kitchen that had a few dishes in the sink before they landed on you. The look on her face the same judgmental one that you knew all too well. “I can see that you are putting your monthly allowance to good use.”

“We both know I don’t touch those credits. I don’t need them.”

“Oh, I am aware and sure you don’t.” She waved you off, stopping herself from setting her bag down at the sight of Doodle’s cat hair. “This place screams it.”

“You’re not welcomed here.” You crossed your arms as you said this to her, trying to not visibly flinch when her sharp gaze turned on you. A look that reduced you back to that child she never thought was good enough. “Not in the Shadow District, and sure as hell not in my apartment.”

“Skyfall Industries owns the entire city, foolish girl. And as a member of the board of directors, I am welcome wherever I so please. And that includes…” Your mother then gestured toward the apartment, gold cybernetic metal shining in the low light of your apartment. “…your apartment.”

“Get the fuck out.” You snapped right before her hand connected with your cheek and your head jerked to the side. The metal on her hand sliced your cheek deep, drawing blood and a bruise was quick to follow.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” The older woman hissed, her anger turning palatable when you didn’t move for a moment. Your eyes closed as you slowly breathed through your nose, trying to control the familiar shake that would come with this. That anger and fear toward this woman mixing inside you.

Fear tried to reduce you back to that girl that she once controlled near perfectly, and the anger reminded you of the person you had to become because of that control.

“Why are you even here?” You asked coldly. The question was simple as you turned to look at her again, your hand slow to pull the hair that was stuck to the blood on your face. “Thought no one wanted to touch the Shadow District. It didn’t fit your project model for a perfect city. Needing a place to house the lower classes that would bring you your precious cybernetics.”

“You are such a stupid child.” She didn’t seem to care that your expression was dark and cold, or that you refused to wipe away the blood from your cut cheek. A dark bruise quickly formed around it from the force of the slap. Your fists clenched, with your anger started to take over and you had to fight to contain it. “It was always in the plan, it was always going to be redeveloped, but considering that I’m a generous mother…”

“To who?” You asked, your words venom, but she ignored you.

“I managed to keep the project at bay so you could have your little rebellious phase, let you playhouse with this one eye criminal before you finally came home and this place is bulldozed to the ground.” It was then that she reached out and cupped the cheek that she didn’t strike, a soft smile playing over her lips. It was meant to be loving, and if you were still that little girl, you’d be tricked by it like always. “I held it off as long as I could but not only is this disgusting stain on the city getting the makeover it desperately needs. I finally can bring you back home.”

“Had it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to go back? That my real phase was trying to be that perfect model child for you all those years, willing to do anything to earn your love, or your approval.” Your words caused that fake smile to crack, her hand dropping when you recoiled from her touch. “I am home, mom. This is my home, and that one eyed criminal is my family and have been for years. We actually love each other.”

“He loves the lie that you fed him.” She responded, making you look at her in shock and confusion. “You think I don’t know? You don’t think that I don’t know that you been lying to him about who you are and where you came from? Buried me with your father.”

“Don’t you dare bring Dad into this.”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, or act like this life is so much better when it’s built on a lie.” Your mother smile then turned dangerous, and that left you rooted to the spot. “I thought I taught you better than this and actually feel bad for the pathetic fool.”

You watched as she opened a purse and pulled out an envelope. You knew what was inside it, an eviction notice.

“It’s time to end this foolishness and come back home. Your position is still waiting for you at Skyfall, and I have a lovely gentleman who is willing to look passed the… things you did while out here.” Her voice was smug as you took the envelope from her and she gestured to the apartment then to your appearance. Wonwoo’s clothes, hair a mess, dark circles under your eyes, and the bruise she gave you. Your hand was still wrapped from when you cut it and trembled holding the envelope. “I mean, it’ll be the only place you will have to go in thirty days. Which is more than what the rest of these people are being given.”

“You’re not getting the Shadow District.” You told her with confidence. The laugh that left her would have left you terrified years ago, but now it only fueled the anger inside you. “We won’t let you.”

“Who is this we? You? Your boyfriend and that little gang he’s part of? That fiend that fed your head with all that nonsense?” Smoothing out her suit, your mother regarded you. “You don’t have a choice in this matter. It’s time to wake up and face reality, stupid girl. Your time for fun is up.”

“We aren’t going down without a fight.”

“Of course you will.” Her shoulder hit yours as she passed and made her way toward the apartment door. “It’s evitable. Just like your place at Skyfall with me.”

“I rather die than go back to any kind of life with you.” You yelled as your turned toward her and the door, only for your whole body to freeze. Because standing at the doorway was Wonwoo. His face was still covered so you could not see his expression, but by his posture, he had heard it all.

“Looks like I should be expecting you back sooner.” Her satisfactory tone in her voice made you feel sick and that anger building turned to deep rage.

You lunged toward her, a high pitch angry cry ripping through you, but Wonwoo was already there to pull you back. Holding you to him as you thrashed in his arms, wanting to wrap your hands around your mother’s throat.

With a final look of satisfaction, your mother clothes the door behind her. Leaving you to continue to struggle to free yourself from your boyfriend’s arms, the tears that had been burning behind your eyes finally broke through.

Your mother was sorely mistaken if she thought she could snap her fingers and you would fall in line easily. You weren’t the same person as you were all those years ago, and you weren’t going to leave Wonwoo or the life you had.

And you sure as hell won’t let them take the Shadow District.

When it comes to you and Wonwoo you both have some similarities, but are also quite different. You both have jobs online. Wonwoo is a successful streamer, and you're known for your spicy paid subscription website. You've been on online fans, and working as a cam girl for a few years now. You've managed to absolutely make bank, and have built quite the online following even away from your site.

You and Wonwoo have quite a few mutual friends. It turns out he's had a crush on you for a while. Once Seungcheol found out, he decided to introduce you two.

The first time you crossed patches was at Seungcheol's birthday party. You're not dumb, you're well aware of who Wonwoo is. There is something about a cute nerdy gamer with glasses, who clearly has the body of a Greek god, that does something to you.

You’ve found yourself being a silent viewer in a few of his streams.

At Seungcheol’s party, you learned Wonwoo was interested in you, but you aren't in a place with your career where you could try and navigate having a boyfriend.

The entire night Wonwoo flirted and eventually you exchanged numbers. You let him know then that you weren't looking for any type of connection with anyone.

It's been six months since you met, and it turns out you couldn't push Wonwoo away. He’s turned into someone you texted often, and even flirt with all the time.

It turns out when you only have sex with yourself and toys, you start to get pent up.

THE GIRL ON THE SCREEN

Wonwoo is hosting a game night at his, and his best friend Mingyu’s apartment. You picked out your outfit with the intention of possibly trying to get laid. You've been debating on crossing the line with Wonwoo for a while. Tonight finally feels like the night.

The boys live in a pretty big three bedroom apartment. It seems their entire friend group plus some of the boys significant others are here.

The first person you see is Seungcheol. He leads you into the kitchen where Wonwoo is talking to Seokmin. The moment Wonwoo's eyes lock on yours you have his full, undivided attention.

What was supposed to be a game night quickly turns into a night of drinking games. The more you drink the drunker you get. The more alcohol that floats through your veins, the more you flirt with Wonwoo.

The whole time he's talking to you, your eyes just focus on his pretty lips, and how he's nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You want Wonwoo so bad, you could scream.

-

The light peaking through the curtain slowly wakes you up. Your eyes flutter open and you're hit with the realization you're not in your room. Lifting the covers you see that you're fully naked.

The clicking sounds of the keyboard catch your attention. Looking over into the corner, you see Wonwoo on his computer. The scrambled memories of last night start flooding back to you.

Wonwoo turns in his chair removing his headphones. He tilts his head looking at you. "Good morning, sunshine."

Slowly you sit up in his bed, holding the covers up. "Did we have sex?"

"No, you were drunk and I refused to even kiss you while you were intoxicated." He says firmly.

"Why am I naked?" He turns his chair around so he's fully facing you.

"Because after you tried to kiss me, you thought if you got fully naked, I would fuck you."

The memories of what happened between you are sparse, but you remember some of it. Awkwardly, you look around the room. Wonwoo's room looks exactly how you thought it would. Seungcheol always jokes and calls him a neat freak, and it looks like nothing is out of place in his room. It even looks like he's folded your clothes and placed them on his dresser.

You look at the other side of where Wonwoo's phone is sitting on the nightstand. "I slept in the living room on the couch."

"Oh." Turns out Wonwoo is a gentleman and respectful.

"I came in here so we could talk once you’d woke up."

Holding the blanket close to your chest, you get a little more comfortable. You know there is no way you can get out of talking after you clearly threw yourself at him last night.

"What did you want to talk about?" You try to play innocent.

He rolls his eyes. "I don't know, maybe the fact you threw yourself at me last night."

"I thought you liked me?" Wonwoo's made it very clear in the past he's interested in you.

He pushes himself up from the chair. Without thinking your eyes travel up and down his body. He's dressed in a pair of God forsaken grey sweatpants and a tight tank top that shows off his glorious shoulders.

"See, here's the thing—I like you, a lot actually." He pauses, stopping at the foot of the bed. You know there is a but coming. There is no way he'll leave it just at that. "But I only mess around with girls who behave."

Your brows knit together, processing his change in tone. You've never heard him sound so stern. "Am I not a good girl?"

"No."

"I literally put myself on a silver platter for you."

He cocks his head to the side. "A good girl wouldn't have pouted and called me a virgin, because I wouldn't fuck her while she was drunk." You most definitely don't remember saying that to him. A hot wave of blush crawls up your neck.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought you were a good girl until last night." He reaches out, grabbing your chin. "I know that you play with yourself online before I met you, I'd seen some of your videos. None of your them ever made me think that you would be a brat." His words are firm. Your eyes go wide, taking in each and every word he says.

"I didn't think you were some hard dom." You retort.

He narrows his eyes, as a smirk tugs at his lips. "I'm not normally a hard dom. I like control in the bedroom, but if you behave I won't have to be hard on you."

He turns on his heels walking to his dresser. You watch carefully as he pulls out a box. He grabs what looks to be a vibrator wand, handcuffs and a bottle of lube.

"Are you going to fuck me?" You let the blanket fall, leaving your chest fully exposed.

He glances over his shoulder. "Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Please." If Wonwoo only fucks girls he considers to be "good girls" you must be on your best behavior for him.

"Say it." He turns around, holding the handcuffs.

"Say what?"

"Ask me, tell me you want this." He raises his brows.

Without saying anything you push the covers off, leaving your naked body fully on display. "Wonwoo, I want you to fuck me. I'll be so good for you. Just please fuck me." You've never been one to beg, but right now, you'll do anything he asks of you.

He moves toward the bed without saying another word. "We'll use the traffic light system. At any point if something is too much, you need to tell me. I'm not sure what you're used to, but I'm in control."

Silently you nod.

"Use your words."

"I understand, sir." His eyes light up at the use of sir.

"You're a quick learner, princess. I need to know, what are your boundaries."

"I like choking, but don't be super rough with it. You can slap my ass, but not my face." You pause, suddenly feeling embarrassment crawl up your throat.

"Keep going."

"You can be rougher with how you fuck me. No gross stuff please. Oh and don't call me mean names. Like I don't want be fully degraded."

"Are you okay with princess, good girl, and brat?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

"Can I put you in handcuffs and edge you?"

"Yeah."

Holding the handcuffs out towards you, he nods his head. "Give me your hands." He clicks the cold metal against your skin. They're tight, but not tight enough to hurt. "If they hurt just tell me. Communication is key here."

"Yes, sir."

He goes to take off his glasses. "Please leave them on." You can't escape the thought of him wearing his glasses whilst doing the dirtiest things to you.

"Okay. Lay down, and do not touch me."

Quickly you obey him. Laying on the bed you spread your legs, giving him full access to your needy core. He walks over to the dresser, picking up the vibrator and the bottle of lube before returning and sitting them on the bed next to you.

Your eyes stay focused on him as he pulls off his tank top. Taking his time, he neatly folds it and sets it on top of the dresser, next to your clothes.

Placing his knee on the bed, he crawls towards you slowly. He stops once he's sitting on his knees between your spread legs. His large hand rests on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into your skin, helping to relax you. You aren't sure why you're so nervous. Maybe it’s because this is the first time you're ever letting a man fully take control.

Picking up the vibrator, he clicks it on. "Color?"

"Green."

He presses the vibrator directly against your clit, earning a moan instantly. He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before he clicks up the speed. Your body tenses immediately.

Your lips part, sinful moans and whimpers filling the room. He unexpectedly drags two fingers through your folds. Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back.

Without thinking your push your hips up towards the vibrator.

"Don't." His words catch you off guard. Your eyes snap open and you see him glaring at you. "Don't try and get yourself off. You'll take what I give you."

"Yes, sir."

Two fingers are suddenly pushed into you, earning a wanton moan. He clicks the vibration speed up another level, as he drags his fingers in a come hither motion, touching that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

"Let me know when you're close."

"Okay." You whine.

The feeling of his fingers and the vibration is too much, your orgasm is speeding towards you at one hundred miles per hour.

"I'm gonna cum." You cry.

The precipice of your orgasm is rapidly approaching, suddenly everything stops. He rips the vibrator and, fingers away from your needy core. Your orgasm is right there, and he stopped everything.

Your eyes fly open, and you look at him confused. You know he said he would edge you, but you thought he would change his mind.

"Wonwoo—" you cry.

"You're such a good girl, you didn't cum without my permission." He taunts you. Your eyes are wide, you try your hardest to process the situation. "Can you do that again?" You aren't sure if you can, but you'll try anything for him.

He puts the vibrator against your needy clit again. He goes back to his same task of pumping his fingers in and out of you, except this time he's added another finger— this orgasm barreling towards you quicker then the last.

Before you can even tell him you're close he stops everything. Every nerve in your body feels like a live wire. Tears brim your eyes. Another orgasm being ripped away from you is devastating.

“Fuck—“ you cry.

“Such a filthy mouth.” He says teasing you.

He pushes the vibrator back onto your clit. He has the speed all the way up. This orgasm is going to hit you like a freight train. He pumps three fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace.

All the muscles in your body are tense. It’s taking everything in you, to not lift your hips, attempting to chase your release.

"Wonwoo, please let me cum. I'll be so fucking good for you if you let me cum." Tears spring from your eyes. You pull your hands up towards you. If you keep your hands anywhere near him, you know you'll try to grab him.

He rips the vibrator away from your clit and tosses it on the bed. This time he doesn't remove his fingers. He keeps pumping them.

"You can cum princess." He dives in face first into your core. His lips lock around your clit. He's practically making out with your pussy, whilst he pushes you over the edge.

The white hot wave of your orgasm is excruciating. Your walls pulse around his as your head is thrown back moaning his name. He doesn't let up on your clit. He keeps sucking until it’s overstimulated and sore.

"Wonwoo." You cry, squirming underneath him.

He pulls back, sitting back on his knees. Sliding his fingers into his mouth, he licks them clean of your release.

"Pretty baby, can barely handle being edged." He teases.

No words form, silently you blink at him, processing everything that's happening. He turns around stripping away the rest of his clothes.

When he turns around you're greeted to the sight of his massive cock. This is by far the biggest cock you've ever seen with your own eyes.

"Should I grab a condom?"

"I'm clean. I haven't slept with a man in over a year." It's probably dumb to fuck without a condom the first time, but all the logical thoughts left your brain long ago.

"You sure?" He raises his brow.

"Yes, I want you to cum inside me."

He barks out a laugh. Walking closer to the bed, he reaches out and grabs the chain that holds the hand cuffs together. "I'm going to lock your hands above your head. If it's too much, you have to tell me."

"Yes, sir."

He hoist your hands above your head. He hooks the chains into a hook you didn't even realize was built into the headboard.

"You've done this before?" You ask.

"Many times." He smiles.

"Wonwoo?"

"Yes, princess?" He's standing over you.

"You haven't even kissed me." There is something quite humorous about the fact that he's already made you cum and you haven't even kissed.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Please."

Without another word he leans in, pressing his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His hands holds your face as your lips dance together. He kisses you like you’re air in his oxygen-deprived lungs. Pulling back, his teeth tug on your bottom lip.

"Happy?"

"Yes."

He picks up the bottle of lube, clicking it open he coats his entire length. You're going to need all the help you can get, taking someone his size.

He pours some of the cold lube on your core, earning a gasp from you. "Oh—"

"I'm big, so this might hurt."

"I can take you." Even if it hurts you don't care. You'll make him fit.

"Such an eager girl.” He tosses the lube on the bed next to you. "Keep your legs spread wide."

He pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust. He goes in inch by inch. The moment you're filled to the brim, it feels like he's splitting you open.

Out of instinct, your hands tug against the handcuffs. "Are you okay?" His voice is soft and gentle.

"Yeah. Just—" your brain is having a hard forming words. He's managed to leave you cock drunk. "You're so big."

A smile tugs at his lips. "Am I too big for you?" He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"No—" you cry.

"Color."

"Green, green." You stutter out. If he stops now, you'll break down crying.

"Did you want me to move, or do you still need time to adjust?" His hand that rests on your thighstarts rubbing soothing circles again.

"Please move, I'll be so good for you if you move." You can't help but beg.

He gives you a smile before he pulls his hips back and slams back into you roughly, knocking you back. He keeps a quick and brutal pace. With each thrust your breasts bounce.

Grabbing your leg, he hooks it over his arms. He keeps snapping his hips into you, over and over.

There is a weird contrast as he leans down kissing the top of your knee gently.

He's so big, he's touching parts inside of you that you didn't know could be reached. Your hands tighten into a fist as you try not to cum too early.

Out of nowhere he drops your leg. Your eyes fly open, looking at him confused.

"Color?"

"Green."

He stops moving for a moment. He's still sitting on his knee, snug inside you, but he moves so he's hovering over you. He snaps his hips back into you.

"Fuck—" you can't help but moan.

He takes your breast in his large hand. He gropes the flesh, earning wanton moans from you. This is the best sex you've ever had in your life.

"Wonwoo—" you cry.

"Does Princess want to cum?" He taunts you.

"Please, I'm so close."

"You can cum." He snaps his hips harder.

The cry that leaves your lips is loud. You're hit with the realization that Mingyu might be home. You pray that he left long before you and Wonwoo started fucking.

This orgasm hits harder then anything you've ever experienced before. You see spots as your walls flutter against his cock like a heartbeat.

Tilting your head back, you leave the delicate skin of your neck fully exposed. Without saying a word, his large hand wraps around your throat. He applies just enough pressure to send you futher over the edge.

"Fuck— fuck." You cry out.

He doesn't stop moving. He keeps thrusting into you, over and over as you ride out your high.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He ask, leaning in even closer to you.

"Inside." You cry.

He releases your neck and drops down to his elbows, so he is plastered against you. He slows down a little, rolling his hips into you as he chases his release.

His lips crash into yours for another heated kiss. Your tongues slide together, muffling your moans.

His thrusts get more sloppy as he gets closer to finding his release. "I'm going to fill you up." He moans against your lips.

True to his word, he fills you like you've never been filled before. He keeps thrusting into you as he paints your walls with his milky release. He came so much, it's starting to leak out around his cock.

It takes a few moments for him to slowly stop moving. He pulls away from you and reaches up for your hands. He releases the chain from the hook and slowly brings your hands towards him. He unlocks the handcuffs and gently rubs your wrist, focusing on the spot where the metal started to bite your skin. He places gentle kisses on both wrists. This is the complete opposite of the man who just fucked you until you cried.

"How are you feeling?" He's still inside you, he hasn't tried to move.

"Like my legs probably don't work." You let out a little laugh. “Please tell me Mingyu isn’t home.”

“He left hours ago.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours for another kiss. "You're way nicer now." You say with your lips against his.

"It's because you were a good girl."

"I'll always be your good girl, if you'll fuck me like that." Reaching up, you tangle your fingers in his fluffy hair. It feels nice to actually touch him.

"So was this a one time thing?" He asks as he pulls back from you.

"No."

Slowly he pulls out of you. He sits back on his knees, watching as his release starts slowly sliding out of you. He takes two fingers and scoops it up, pushing it back inside.

"Don't waste it." He says, giving you a wicked smile.

"I need a shower." You sigh.

"Let's shower together, and then I'll take you out for breakfast."He holds his hand out towards you.

"Like a date?" You push yourself up, immediately realizing how sore you are.

"Yeah, if you want me to fuck you again we have to go a date."

You can't help but smile. For someone who just dom’ed the hell out of you, he's acting pretty cute right now.

"I would like to go out with you."

Things are definitely going to change after this, but you're okay with that. Clearly what you and Wonwoo have is special.

He immediately closed his book and fixed his crooked glasses to see you. His face lit up. "Um, yeah, just need to finish some things",

You narrow your eyes and sit at the vacant seat in front of him. "Are you doing other people's responsibilities again?" his eyes widen at your words. He knows he can't lie to you, but he does it anyway.

he faked a cough at your glaring, looking down and holding his nape. "I don't mind, don't worry about it. Besides, my grades are also dependent on this," you sighed and stood up to go on his back to hug him.

"Do you ever wonder people are taking advantage of you?" he holds your arms, clinging to his neck. He smiles through your words.

"I don't care. You taking advantage to me too so... ", he joked. You chuckled and kissed his cheeks.

"Well, you love it though, right?" You said, teasingly rubbing his jaw. He roll his eyes, grinning. "Wanna go over to my place?" He blushed at the idea. He has second thoughts but he agreed anyway.

"Why, though?" he asked innocently. You shrugged and sat at his table.

"Proving my points"

"You're nasty"

"Sige na kasi..."

"Okay, okay. Pupunta ako"

---

"Dude, may gagawin ka mamaya?" Mingyu asked, his seatmate/best friend. Wonwoo shake his head and gets the last thing to put in his backpack.

He stood up, putting his backpack on his back and finally looked at Mingyu. "Sorry, Im not available today." His best friend scoffed.

"Tsk, you're boring. C'mon, have fun, there's a lot of time before we graduate" Mingyu put his arms around Wonwoo's shoulders, trying to convince him. "Besides, kailangan din namin ng kakampi, and everybody knows you are the best player in town. Ano, what d'you say? Hmm?" Mingyu looked at him with puppy eyes. "C'mon bro, pustahan 'to, sure win kapag sumama ka"

Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head before taking his arm off of him. "I really can't today, Gyu. My girlfriend invite me to her house",

He waited for his response, but all he got was Mingyu's teasing smirk. Wonwoo gives him a confused look. "Why you looking at me like that?"

"Are you gonna unvirgin yourself today?" Wonwoo's face got flushed and immediately give Mingyu a slight punch.

" 'lam mo, kabastusan talaga ang nasa utak mo parati, dyan ka na nga."

----

Wonwoo can't stop thinking about Mingyu's words. He is so uncomfortable in his seat right now even there's a distance between you. Aircon is on, and still he feels hot for some reason.

You notice how squeaky your boyfriend is so you asked him what's wrong but he just shook his head and focus on the movie you are watching.

This is not the first time Wonwoo being in your house since you two are childhood bestfriends, but this is for sure the first time he's been in your house since you two become in a relationship.

You know Wonwoo is different with people you dated. His inexperienced through girls, and you know your boundaries as his partner. You don't want to rush him with the things you want to do. Of course you kissed, sometimes if you're lucky enough to get it.

"Wonwoo, you sure you're okay?" kahit nagsasabi siyang okay siya, hindi mo parin mapigilang magtanong dahil una, kanina pa mapula ang pisngi niya, pangalawa, kanina pa siya hindi mapakali sa lugar niya. "Ano bang problema?" he didn't answer and just focused on the movie. You sigh and did the same thing.

Nasa utak mo baka nilalamig siya kaya hinawakan mo ang kaniyang hita kasama ang kamay niya. Pinagmasdan mo ang mukha niyang tumingin sayo at sa kamay mo. Agad naman niyang itinuon ulit ang atensyon niya sa tv. Napatawa ka ng mahina at iniling iling na lang ang ulo dahil sa sobrang cute ng boyfriend mo.

In the middle of your cuteness aggresion though, Wonwoo feel the opposite. He can't even count he gulped since he got into your house, and suddenly you did this? He might go crazy if you did something different to him this time.

Lumapit ka sakaniya, isinara ang distansya na namamagitan sa inyo. "Are you uncomfortable?" nagulat siya sa tanong mo at agad umiling. "Then pwede ganito tayo ka-close?" tumango lang siya.

Sobrang nagiba ang pakikitungo mo sakaniya since naging kayo, at gusto mong unti unting maranasan ni Wonwoo ang mga bagay na hindi niya pa nararanasan. It's up to you the context, of course.

Habang patagal ng patagal ang movie, humahanap si Wonwoo ng tyempo upang huminga sa posisyon niyo pero everytime na gumagalaw ang iyong kamay sa hita niya, merong bumabara sa lalamunan niya. Inayos niya ang kaniyang upo, para naman maging kumportable siya kahit papaano.

"Baby, pwede bang lakasan aircon? Ang init kasi eh" request niya at pumayag ka naman.

Mga ilang minuto rin bago ka nakaramdam ng lamig dahil sa paglakas ng aircon. Nagpaalam ka naman na kukuha ka lang ng kumot at iniwan na si Wonwoo sa living room. Nakahinga naman si Wonwoo pag-alis mo kaya inayos niya ang kaniyang sarili sa mga gagawin mo pa sa kaniya pag-balik mo. Hindi niya alam kung ano ang ineexpect niya pero nagreready siya just in case.

"Haaa, sobrang lamig talaga" tumabi ka sa kaniya. "Gusto mo babe?" pagaalok mo at tinanggap niya naman kaya inalagay mo rin sa kaniya ang mahaba na kumot.

Nang matapos ang movie, niyaya mo siya sa kwarto mo pero umayaw siya kaya nag stay lang kayo dito sa sala.

Tinanong mo siya kung anong gusto niyang gawin pero bahala ka na raw. Napapakamot ka ng ulo sa inaakto niya, hindi mo alam bakit siya ganito, hindi naman siya ganito dati pero naiinitindihan mo naman dahil magjowa na kayo at hindi lang mag bestfriend.

Sobrang tahimik ngayon ni Wonwoo, that's why you try your best to make him comfortable the best way possible. Sinubukan mong lumayo kaunti pero kahit ganon di pa rin siya nagsasalita. Sinubukan mong alukin siya ng pagkain sabi niya di siya gutom. Naglaro din kayo ng PlayStation pero halatang nagpapatalo siya sayo at wala sa mood.

Ginawa mo na lahat pero wala talang epekto kay Wonwoo. Tahimik pa rin siya at di nakakausap ng maayos. Huminga ka ng malalim after mong ibalik sa ayos ang sofa at umupo ulit sa kaniyang tabi.

Napasuklay ka ng buhok pataas, at pinagmasdan siya. Nakatingin lang ito sa kaniyang daliri.

Hindi mo mapigilang iadmire siya habang pinapanood mo ang kaniyang kinikilos, dahil alam mong kahit hirap siyang iadjust ang kaniyang sarili sa relasyon niyo, pumayag pa rin siyang pumunta dito sa bahay mo.

You caressed the back of his head while looking at him. "Hay, dapat hindi ka na pumayag pumunta dito if hindi ka naman kumportable."

He pouts while looking at his fingers. "Sinong nagsabi sayong di ako kumportable?" he fix his glasses that went down in the brige of his nose. Hindi pa rin siya makatingin sayo.

"Baby, look at me nga." kahit hirap, sumunod pa rin siya sayo. "Alam mo naman na hindi mo kailangang pilitin sarili mo na pumunta dito para lang sa'kin diba?" bumaba ang kaniyang tingin pero tinaas mo ulit ang kaniyang mukha gamit ang hintuturo mo.

"Girlfriend kita, and I suppose to act like your boyfriend." he sigh, upset and disappointed at himself. So to make up for this situation, he said the unexpected thing. "Touch me" you look at him confused. "I said touch me"

"W-what are you—" he suddenly act like he wants to take his sweatpants off that makes you widen your eyes. Thankfully you are in the right mind still and stop him before he embarass himself. "Ano ba yang ginagawa mo? Nasisira na ba ulo mo?"

"Baby, kailangan natin 'tong gawin." napakamot ka sa ulo mo. You hold his both hands, seriously look him in the eyes.

"Sabi ko nga sayo you don't have to these things para lang masatisfy ako?" merong inis sa boses mo pero pinigilan mo pa rin ang sarili mong magalit.

"I have to— You have to do this" pinipilit niya pa ring hubarin ang kaniyang sweatpant.

"Ano ba, Wonwoo—"

"Please let me take this off—"

You cupped his face and calm him down with your lips pressing into him. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, okay?" you said with assuring voice. You smile when you see his features begin to soften.

You got startled when he continue kissing you but you melt there eventually. The kiss was sloppy, you didn't guide him, you know he wants to be the one who's in charge. You can't help but to smile between those kisses. He stopped just to take a breath. "I want you to touch me." you can see the sureness in his eyes.

"Okay baby, if that's what you wanted" you can see the bulge in his gray sweatpants and you chuckled. "Determinado ka talagang mahawakan ah" malandi mong sabi sa kaniyang tenga. Hinaplos mo muna ang kaniyang hita at rinig na rinig mo ang panginginig at mabilis niyang paghinga.

"Wait lang!" bigla niyang pagpipigil sayo nang dumampi ang kamay mo malapit sa ari niya. Kitang kita ang panginginig at pagsasarado niya ng hita.

"It's okay baby, I can continue kahit kailan mo gusto" binigyan mo siya ng halik sa pisngi.

He nodded, sign for you to continue.

He gasped when you hold the tent in his pants and rubbing it to make it more hard. You can see how he's restraining himself to make a noise. He is biting the back of his hands to ease the feeling.

"You can take your pants off" he immediately obey. You caressed his back when you saw him trembling while doing it, you can tell that he was nervous knowing this is his first time. When you see how his cock is hard and upright in his boxers you began to drool at the sight. You gulped, obviously getting turned on.

"Can I touch it?" you asked for permission and he just waits you to do anything. You circled first the stain part of his boxers to observe how he will react. And dang, the noise he made are the hottest thing you ever heard.

Dahan dahan mong hinubad ang boxers niya para makita ang paghampas ng tite niya sa kaniyang tiyan. Sinabi mo ring itaas niya damit niya para hindi madumihan kung sakali.

Alam mong mahilig mag work out ito si Wonwoo kaya inaasahan mo ng maganda ang katawan nito. Kung hindi mo lang talaga alam na virgin 'to, baka hindi ka makapagpigil at maghubad na lang dito.

Nang mahawakan mo na ang katawan ng kaniyang burat, napahawak din siya agad sa pulsuhan mo. Nakita mo ang mapula niyang mukha at saradong mata. "Hinga ng malalim baby, kaya mo yan" pag cocomfort mo sa kaniya. Sinubukan mong galawin pataas ang iyong kamay at hindi niya mapigilang mailabas ang ipit na ungol.

Napahigpit ang hawak niya ulit sayo at huminga ulit ng malalim. Nang alam mong nakakuha na ulit siya ng pahinga, pinagpatuloy mo ulit galawin ang iyong kamay pababa naman. Napayakap siya sa braso mo at napakagat ng labi.

Itinanggal mo ang pagkakayakap niya upang mapalitan ang kamay na nakahawak sa kaniyang tite. Mas sanay ka kasi at mas makikita mo ang itsura niya na nasasarapan.

Lumuluha ang tite niya ng pre-cum kaya ito ang ginawa mong lube para mapadulas ang kamay mo.

Sinubukan mong pabilisin unti ang paggalaw sa kamay mo at hindi na napigilan ni Wonwoo ang pagungol. Napatawa ka dahil napansin mo na ayaw talaga niyang ilabas ang mga ito.

"Why are you laughing?" he said out of breath, but there's a hint of frustration in his voice.

"You're just so cute, that's all" you tried to fasten your hand at a normal pace because you are starting to get tired. Pero bawat segundo pinipigilan ka ni Wonwoo, kung hindi sa pulsuhan, iniipit niya ang iyong kamay gamit ang hita niya.

"Baby, please dahan dahan lang" pagmamakaawa niya sayo sa tuwing napapabilis ang mga kamay mo. Inaasure mo naman siya na ayos lang kahit anong oras kayo matapos.

Mag lilimang minuto mo na ginagawa 'to dahil kahit gusto mong matapos at palabasin na ang tamod niya, every second may stopover dahil it's either kukuha siya ng hininga, o iiyak siya para patigilin ka.

Basang basa na ang mukha niya dahil sa mga luha at pawis dahil kahit gusto mo ng tumigil, gusto niya pa rin gawin mo ito.

Nasa isip mo, pano na lang kaya kung butas at bibig mo na ang nararamdaman niya, baka himatayin siya on the spot.

"Kaya mo pa ba baby? Pwede naman nating hindi ituloy na" pinunasan niya ang kaniyang mukha gamit ang damit niya.

"No, no, you can continue." bumuntong hininga ka.

"Wonwoo, yakapin mo ako" paghahanda mo sa kaniya. Nagtaka naman siya pero sinunod ka naman. Binago mo ang posisyon niya at mas lumapit ka sakaniya. "Higa ka sa leeg ko" inayos mo naman ang posisyon ng kaniyang ulo sa leeg mo upang hindi niya makita ang iyong gagawin. Inipit mo rin ang kamay niya sa hita mo para hindi ka na niya mapigilan. "Hinga lang malalim baby, okay?" nararamdaman mo naman ang pag tango niya.

Hindi alam ni Wonwoo ang binabalak mo kaya wala siyang hint na bibilisan mo ang pagjajakol sa kaniya hanggang sa malabasan. At kahit ayaw mo 'tong gawin, nababagot ka na.

"No! Stop baby! Please!" gusto ka niyang pigilan gamit ang kamay niya pero inipit mo lalo ang kaniyang kamay sa hita mo. Naramdaman mo ang paghigpit ng hawak niya sa bewang mo na pwede ng magiwan ng pasa. Pero wala kang pake, kailangan niyang masanay lalo na ginusto niya rin 'to.

Sinasarado at sinusubukan niyang ipitin ang iyong kamay pero di ka nagpapigil, pinagpatuloy mo ang ginagawa mo kahit naaawa ka na sakaniya. Hindi na rin nagtagal, tumalsik ang tamod sa kaniyang tiyan at doon mo na rin siya pinakawalan.

Pinalabas mo pa lahat ng tamod niya sa pamamagitan ng pagikot mo gamit ang iyong hinalalaki sa ulo ng kaniyang ari.

Nanginig naman ang buong katawan niya dahil sa ginawa mo kaya itinigil mo na. "Im sorry, im so sorry" hinalikan mo siya agad pinunasan ang pawis at luha sa mukha niya. "I'll do better next time, im sorry Wonwoo"

Iniling naman niya ang ulo niya at binalik ang ulo niya sa leeg mo. "It's okay baby, im glad you did this for me." napangiti ka naman. "Im so sleepy"

Your breath catches as he pulls into a gravel driveway. The house before you is small, painted a pale blue that's faded to gray in the darkness. A single light burns in the front window. It's nothing like the mansion. Nothing like the luxury hotels or the boutique apartments. It's a place where someone lives, not where someone performs.

Mingyu kills the engine. The silence that rushes in is almost deafening.

He doesn't look at you. Just opens his door, the interior light flooding the cabin, and walks around the hood. Your door opens. He stands there, backlit by the porch light, his silhouette sharp against the darkness. The bruise on his cheekbone has darkened to purple, a bloom of color against his jaw.

"Come on." His voice is quiet. Tired. Human.

You swing your legs out, and the moment your bare feet touch the gravel, he's already moving. His tailored charcoal coat slips off his shoulders, and before you can protest, he's draping it around you. The fabric is warm from his body, carrying his scent—that familiar mix of expensive cologne and something earthier underneath. The sleeves hang past your fingertips. The hem falls to your mid-thigh.

He doesn't say anything. Just holds his hand out, palm open.

You take it.

The gravel crunches under your bare feet as you walk to the front door. The porch creaks. Mingyu raps his knuckles against the wood, three sharp knocks, and then steps back, his hand still wrapped around yours.

The door swings open.

The man standing in the doorway is tall, nearly as tall as Mingyu. He has dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses that catch the light. His face is sharp, angular, with a quiet intensity in his eyes that suggests he misses nothing. He's wearing a simple gray sweater and jeans, comfortable and unassuming.

"Wonwoo." Mingyu's voice is steady, but there's something in it—relief, maybe, or gratitude. "Thanks."

Wonwoo's gaze sweeps over both of you. Lingers on your bare legs, your bare feet, the coat hanging off your shoulders. He doesn't ask. Doesn't raise an eyebrow. Just nods once, a small, economical movement, and steps aside.

"Come in."

The interior of the house is warm, lit by soft lamps rather than overhead fixtures. Bookshelves line the walls, crammed with volumes and photographs and the occasional houseplant. The furniture is worn but comfortable—a plaid couch, a wooden coffee table with ring stains, a pair of sneakers kicked off by the door. It smells like cinnamon and old paper and something cooking.

Wonwoo closes the door behind you. The lock clicks into place.

"Bathroom's down the hall if you need it. You know where the guest room is." His voice is low, measured. He doesn't ask who you are or why you're barefoot and wearing only an oversized shirt beneath Mingyu's coat. "I'll be in the study if you need anything."

He disappears through a doorway, and then it's just the two of you standing in the quiet foyer, the weight of the evening pressing down like a physical thing.

Mingyu's hand finds yours again. His fingers are warm, calloused, and they tremble slightly as they interlace with your own.

"Come on," he says again, and this time his voice is softer. Vulnerable.

He leads you down a narrow hallway past a closed door that must be Wonwoo's study, past a bathroom with its light off, to the last door on the left. He pushes it open and steps aside to let you enter first.

The room is small. A double bed with a navy duvet, slightly rumpled. A wooden desk with a laptop and scattered papers. A guitar propped in the corner. A dresser with a half-empty glass of water on top. The closet door is open, revealing a few hanging shirts and a pair of sneakers on the floor.

And the smell.

It hits you the moment you step inside. That familiar scent. His skin, his shampoo, the particular musk that clings to his clothes and his pillows and his sheets. This is where he's been hiding. This room has held him for the past months, absorbed his sleepless nights and his silent desperation.

Your knees give out.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking beneath your weight. The coat slips from your shoulders, pooling around your waist. You're sitting in his room, wearing only an old shirt, your legs bare, your feet filthy from the gravel, and you have no idea what comes next.

"I need to..." Your voice is small, cracking against the quiet of the room. You gesture vaguely toward your lower half, suddenly overwhelmed by the grit on your skin and the tight, nervous pressure in your bladder.

"Through there," Mingyu says softly, pointing to a small adjoining door.

You slip inside the cramped bathroom and lock the door. You use the toilet, your hands shaking so badly you can barely manage, before turning to the small, old-fashioned bathtub. Standing on one foot, you turn on the faucet, letting the warm water rush over your skin as you wash the driveway dirt and gravel from your soles. You scrub them clean with your hands, watching the grey water swirl down the drain, before drying off with a clean, folded towel.

When you step back out into the bedroom, your feet are clean and pink, the chill of the hardwood hitting your bare soles as you walk back to the bed. You sit back down on the edge of the mattress, the adrenaline still humming beneath your skin.

And then, Mingyu is there.

He drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, the movement so sudden and so deliberate that it steals the air from your lungs. His hands come up to cup your face, his palms warm against your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away tears you didn't realize were falling.

"I'm sorry." The words crack as they leave his mouth. "I'm so fucking sorry."

You stare at him. At the bruise blooming on his cheekbone. At the dark circles beneath his eyes that makeup couldn't quite hide. At the raw, naked desperation in his gaze.

"Sarah—" he starts, and his voice breaks. He swallows. Tries again. "That night. The shower. She just—she got in. She was naked. And I—" He closes his eyes, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. "I'm not making excuses. I'm not. I was weak. I was a man whose desires and impulses took the absolute best of him. And I hurt you. I hurt you so badly."

Your hands come up to cover his. Your fingers are cold. His are shaking.

"Mingyu." Your voice comes out hoarse, scraped raw. "Do you think that's what I fucking care about right now?"

He pulls back, confusion flickering across his face.

"You just dropped a major bomb at the mansion an hour ago." You laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Your father's affair. The fraud. The evidence with the media outlets. You just, you detonated everything. And you dragged me out of there like I was the only thing you could save."

His jaw tightens. "You are."

"Mingyu—"

"You're the only thing I've ever wanted to save."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and fragile. His hands are still cupping your face, his thumbs still tracing gentle arcs across your cheekbones. The room is silent except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the quiet rhythm of both your breathing.

He moves without warning, rising from his knees and circling around you. The bed dips as he climbs onto it, and then his thighs are on either side of your hips, his chest pressing against your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him until your spine is pressed against his sternum, until you can feel every breath he takes.

His face buries in the crook of your neck.

His lips press against your skin, soft at first, then harder, open-mouthed. He's breathing you in, inhaling deep and shuddering, as if he's been holding his breath for months and only now remembers how to fill his lungs.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your pulse. "I'm so sorry. I missed you. I missed you so much it fucking hurt."

You feel the dampness of his lashes against your skin. Feel the tremor in his arms as they tighten around your waist. Feel the desperate, arrhythmic beat of his heart against your shoulder blades.

"Tell me what happened." Your voice is barely a whisper. "Why did you leave? Why didn't you go through with it? Why did you disappear?"

His arms tighten. His lips press a kiss to the spot behind your ear that he knows drives you crazy, and a shiver runs through your body.

"Because you walked away." His voice is raw, scraped clean of any pretense. "Because you got on that plane and went to New York, and I realized that I couldn't live a single day without you. I couldn't—" He stops, his breath hitching. "I couldn't go through with it. Walking Sarah down that aisle, saying those vows, living a massive lie for the rest of our lives. Fooling myself, fooling her, fooling you. I couldn't do it."

Your eyes close. Your hands find his where they're wrapped around your waist, holding on.

"I wanted to follow you." His voice drops even lower. "The moment I knew where you were, I wanted to get on a plane and find you and beg you to forgive me. But I knew... I knew you needed space. You needed time. And I had to fix what I'd broken before I could come to you with clean hands."

"But you didn't come." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, bitter and aching. "You just sent a voicemail from a burner email and disappeared."

"I'm sorry." He says it again, and again, pressing the words into your skin like a prayer. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Trapped in his arms, you turn your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of his jaw. "Was that all real? The fraud? Did you fake the documents? The fraud evidence?"

His body goes still against yours.

"No." His voice turns stern, a flicker of something harder beneath the vulnerability. "I didn't fake anything. I was desperate to find a way out. I asked Wonwoo for help, he's a tech genius. We spent weeks digging into the Park Group's files. And we found it. Millions of dollars in mishandled funds. Offshore accounts. Fraudulent reporting. It was all there."

You process his words in silence. The weight of what he's saying settles over you slowly, like sediment drifting to the bottom of a lake. He didn't fabricate evidence. He uncovered the truth. He spent months hiding in this small house with his friend, assembling a case that would destroy his fiancée's family and free him from a marriage he never wanted.

For you?

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy. You feel his breath against your neck, his heart beating against your back. The room holds its breath, waiting for you to speak, to react, to shatter or to heal.

His mouth finds your neck again.

This time, the kisses are different. Slower. Hotter. His lips part against your skin, his tongue tracing a wet path up the column of your throat. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you harder against him, and you feel it—the hard press of his arousal against your lower back.

"I missed you," he breathes against your ear. "I missed your skin. Your smell. The sound you make when I—"

His hands slide beneath the hem of your shirt.

His palms are warm against the bare skin of your waist, tracing upward slowly, deliberately. His fingers find the underside of your breasts, and he pauses, his breath hot against your shoulder.

"Tell me you want this." His voice is ragged, broken. "Tell me you want me. Because if you don't—"

You answer by turning in his arms.

Your body twists, your knees shifting on the mattress until you're facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands slide to your hips, gripping the thin fabric of your shirt. Your faces are inches apart. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, lips parted and wet.

You kiss him.

It's desperate and wet and achingly slow. Your mouths slot together like they've been searching for each other, your tongues meeting in a dance that's equal parts apology and claim. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you, until you can feel every line of his body pressed against yours.

The kiss deepens. His fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging upward. You break the kiss just long enough to raise your arms, and then the shirt is gone, disappearing somewhere behind you. His hands find your bare waist, your ribs, the curve of your breasts still covered by your bra.

He looks at you. His gaze traces every inch of exposed skin, and there's something reverent in his eyes, something hungry and broken and desperate.

"Fuck," he breathes. "I missed you."

You reach behind your back and unhook your bra. It falls away, and his breath catches. His hands come up immediately, cupping your breasts, his thumbs tracing across your nipples until they harden beneath his touch.

Then he shifts.

His hands grip your hips, lifting you slightly, positioning you on his thighs. His fingers find the elastic of your underwear, and he doesn't ask. He just slides his hand inside, his fingers finding you wet and ready.

"Fuck," he says again, and this time it's a groan.

His fingers slide into you, one at first, then two, curling and pressing with a familiarity that makes your head fall back. His thumb circles your clit in lazy, deliberate movements while his fingers work you open, stretching you, preparing you.

At the same time his mouth finding your breast.

His lips close around your nipple, and the sensation is electric. His mouth hot and wet, his tongue flicking across the sensitive peak while his fingers continue their rhythm inside you. Your hands fist in his hair, holding him to you as waves of pleasure roll through your body.

"Please," you gasp. "I need—"

You don't finish the sentence. Instead, you shift your weight, turning in his lap until your back is to his chest, your legs spread wide over his thighs. His hand is still inside your underwear, still working you, and the new angle lets him go deeper.

His mouth finds your shoulder, your neck, kissing and sucking while his fingers drive you higher. You can feel his hardness pressing against your ass through his pants, and the knowledge of what's coming makes you ache.

You turn back around, facing him again. You took off his shirt before your hands find the button of his pants, and he lifts his hips to help you push them down. His boxers follow. His cock springs free, hard and leaking, the tip glistening in the dim light.

You wrap your hand around him, and he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. You stroke him once, twice, spreading the wetness, feeling every inch of his length.

"Ride me," he breathes. "Please. I need to feel you."

You lift your hips, positioning yourself over him. His hands grip your waist, guiding you, and then you sink down.

The stretch is perfect. Exactly what you've been craving for months. His heat fills you completely, and the sound that escapes your throat is somewhere between a gasp and a sob. He fills you in a way that nothing else can, a way that makes you feel whole and shattered at the same time.

You start to move.

Your hips roll against his, finding a rhythm that's slow and deep and devastating. Your hands find his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. His head falls back, his eyes closing, his lips parted as he lets you take what you need.

"Look at me," you whisper.

His eyes open, finding yours. The connection is electric, intimate, terrifying. You watch each other as you move, as the pleasure builds, as the months of separation and pain and longing condense into this single moment.

His hands find your hips, and his rhythm changes. He starts to thrust up into you, meeting each of your movements, driving deeper. The pace quickens, the angle shifting until he's hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes.

You're close. You can feel it building, a pressure coiling in your core, every nerve ending on fire.

"Come for me," he says, his voice rough and broken. "Let go. I've got you."

You do.

The orgasm crashes through you, violent and beautiful, stealing your breath and your thoughts and everything except the sensation of him inside you, his hands on your hips, his eyes locked on yours. Your body clenches around him, and he groans, his rhythm faltering as your climax triggers his own.

He comes inside you with a shuddering gasp, his hands gripping your hips so hard they'll bruise, his body arching into yours as he spills himself deep. The feeling of his release, hot and filling, sends a secondary wave of pleasure through your oversensitive body.

You collapse against him.

Your foreheads press together. Your breath mingles. Your hearts beat in sync, slowing gradually as the aftershocks fade.

Neither of you speaks.

You stay like that, tangled together on the small bed in the quiet house, his arms wrapped around you, his softening cock still inside you, his lips pressing occasional kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your hair.

The silence is comfortable. Healing. The weight of everything that's happened doesn't disappear, but it shifts, becomes something you can carry together instead of alone.

Minutes pass. Or hours. Time has lost all meaning.

A soft knock at the door breaks the spell.

"Hey." Wonwoo's voice is muffled through the wood, but there's a gentle humor in it. "I made dinner. Figured you two might be hungry."

Mingyu's chest rumbles with a quiet laugh against your back. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer.

"Tell him we'll be there in a minute," you murmur.

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple. "We'll be there in a minute," he calls out.

Footsteps retreating down the hall. The distant clatter of plates.

You stay in his arms a moment longer, your bodies still joined, the warmth of the room and the smell of him and the quiet hum of the house wrapping around you like a blanket.

Then you shift, wincing slightly as you lift yourself off him. His release trickles down your thigh, and he grabs a shirt from the floor, handing it to you with a soft, almost shy smile.

You pull it on. It's his. It smells like him.

He pulls his pants back up, not bothering with the button, and takes your hand. His fingers interlace with yours, warm and sure.

The hallway is dim, lit only by the light spilling from the kitchen at the end. Wonwoo's silhouette moves behind the counter, and the smell of something savory wafts toward you.

Mingyu squeezes your hand.

"Whatever,” Mingyu rolls his eyes as they come to stand at the front door either side of Wonwoo. 

"Well. Open it then,” 

"Oh noooooow you're not so brave!” 

"I just think it's your penthouse, you should open the door." 

“Mingyu," Jeonghan turns to his friend, “open the door." 

“Why me?!" 

“You've got the straighteners." 

“And you're built like a house." Wonwoo chimes in. 

“And what’ll happen when you give me a complex huh? Who'll be the butt of your jokes then?” 

"Still you.” 

"Just open the door Mingyu!” Jeonghan barks, clearly having had enough of his two best friends come roommates. 

"Alright! There's no need to shout!” 

He wraps his hand around the doorknob, taking a deep breath as his two friends shift awkwardly on their feet, dreading whatever is behind the door. Because nothing good ever comes of unannounced guests at three in the morning. 

Mingyu flings the door open and they all frown, there's nobody there? Had they spent so long arguing that whoever it was walked off in boredom? Or it was just some kids messing about? But this is the penthouse of one of the most exclusive buildings in the city, you can't get up here without a code. 

A babbling shocks them though. 

“Is that?" 

“What the hell?" 

“Is that a……” 

A baby's giggle makes them all jump back. 

"How did it ring the buzzer?” Mingyu whispers to Wonwoo. 

"There's a note idiot.” Jeonghan reaches down but pauses when he sees his name written on the envelope. 

“It knows your name?" Mingyu asks in wonder. 

"Did you go to school?” 

"Hey fuck you Wo…" he stops himself when he realises he's sworn in front of the baby. 

“Are you gonna, y’know, open it?" Wonwoo presses. 

“O-oh, yeah sure," 

His fingers shake as he opens the envelope, a weird feeling of doom hanging over him. 

Jeonghan, 

I don't even know what to write. I guess I should start with I'm sorry? I know we were nothing serious, I know I just stopped picking up your calls but I just didn't know what to do. 

I've tried Jeonghan, I really have but I can't do it. I can't be what she needs, I can't be what I need right now. 

I feel like I'm sinking and I can't take her down with me, she deserves someone, anyone other than me. 

Her name's Areum, she's two months old and she's yours. And don't worry, you have my full permission to do a DNA test. I wouldn't trust me either. I've put her favourite blanket and teddy bear in her bag, there's some formula too and some clean clothes. 

Just know that I tried. Please please know that I really did try my best for her. 

And tell her mommy loves her, I'm just doing what's best for her. My best was just never going to be good enough for her or anyone. 

I hope you'll both forgive me, 

______

“_____!" Jeonghan throws the note at Wonwoo and sprints to the elevator. 

He needs to find you, he needs to get to you. He knew it was weird you stopped picking up the phone but you're a free spirit, always have been ever since you both met at university. 

He should've kept calling, he should've hammered your fucking door down. 

You've had a baby, you've had his baby and you've done it all on your fucking own. Sure, it wasn't planned, you two just fooled around whenever you were drunk and single at the same time. It was reckless and stupid but you both got what you needed and so you didn't see a problem with it. But he'd never desert you, he'd never not step up to be what you and the baby needed. You're his friend and he loves you, he should've shown you that. Maybe then you wouldn't be in this state. 

He slams the button again and again until eventually the doors open and he rushes in. A part of him hoped you'd still be in here but it's just silence, so silent he feels like he can hear his heart beat. 

The doors open in the foyer and he was rushes out onto the street, his head in his hands as he looks up and down over and over again hoping to spot you disappearing into the distance.

But it's no use. 

You've already disappeared. 

You've disappeared and he's got no way of finding out if you're ok. 

What the fuck is he thinking he knows you're not ok but that only makes everything so much worse. He's not bothered you didn't tell him about the baby, he's not bothered you've had the baby at the moment, his concern is you and whatever state of mind you're in. 

But he knows he can't do anything about it at three in the morning. As soon as the hour is a bit more reasonable, he'll call your parents, he'll call your old school friends, fuck he’ll call the police if he has to. But he will make sure you're ok. He owes you that much. 

At some point his feet bring him back to his apartment, the door slams behind him and he finds his two best friends watching a baby he didn't know existed ten minutes, as it bounces in its carrier. 

“Did you find her?" 

“She's gone," 

“We'll find her Jeonghan, I promise." Mingyu squeezes his shoulder. 

“I don't know what to do," Jeonghan whispers, staring down at a baby that has his eyes. 

“We take care of her." Wonwoo mumbles. 

“_____ or the baby?" 

“Both." 

“Yoon Areum if you don’t get down here right now I’ll send Mingyu up there!” Jeonghan booms up the stairs. 

“What’s Mingyu gonna do, paint their nails together?” 

“He’s got a new thing where he pretends to cry because he realised she’ll do as she’s told then,” You tell Wonwoo as you sip your coffee. 

“That’s manipulation.”

“And you reading her the dictionary is child cruelty.” Jeonghan fires back as he pours pancake batter in the pan on the stove. 

“Excuse me? I think you’ll find that our daughter has the reading age of a high schooler.”

“She also has the reading tastes of an old lady,” 

“Jeonghan’s right, I found her reading Agatha Christie the other day.” 

“One of the greatest female writers of all time,” Wonwoo says proudly. 

“It’s about murder Wonwoo.” You deadpan. 

“Murder happens. It’s better she knows.” 

“She’s four!” Jeonghan spins round. 

“This is just another thing that they’re going to use against us,” you groan and rest your head on the kitchen island. 

Wonwoo and Jeonghan share a look. You’d been panicking, they all knew it. For the past almost four years you’ve all been living together at Jeonghan’s penthouse. You’d been friends for years but when you found out you were pregnant you just spiralled. Like massively spiralled. You shut everyone off, ashamed that you’d fucked up so much. Sure you weren’t a complete mess but you were in no way ready for a baby. You’d made an appointment, you were going to go to the clinic and the whole thing would be over. 

But when it came to it. You just couldn’t. You ran away from the clinic and away from everyone in your life. Even at the hospital, when you were giving birth, they pleaded with you to let them contact your parents or the father but you just wouldn’t. You were adamant this was your fuck up and you’d deal with it. 

And then she arrived, the most beautiful baby you’d ever seen in your life. You took her back to your apartment and then things just went from bad to worse. You couldn’t get out of bed, you couldn’t eat, you just couldn’t function and you knew you were letting her down. You weren’t even looking after yourself well enough that she had enough milk, she had to go onto formula and that was just another thing that showed you how shit a mother you were. No matter how many times the medical visitor said it was totally normal for some mothers not to be able to feed as well as others and not to blame yourself, you still did. You were letting her down. 

You brought her into this world and now you were letting her down. It was when she’d been crying for hours and you were sobbing on the floor that you knew you had to do something. It wasn’t loving her right to try and struggle through, it was loving her more to not be around her. You’d just ruin her life. You already were ruining her life. 

Your parents would help. You knew they would. They’re well off, you’d never wanted anything in life, hell they’d even let you live at home for years until your paintings finally started selling and you could sustain yourself. But if anything that made it worse. You came from a good family. You’d made yourself a more than comfortable life, you had enough money to do whatever you wanted which is pretty rare for a 26 year old. 

So if money and family and surroundings weren’t the reason you were struggling so much to give your baby what she needed. The only problem, the only common denominator in how shit life was for you and Areum. Was you. 

Jeonghan was a good man, you’d been friends for years and he had a good family. Better than good. One of the richest families in Korea though they were somehow a close knit loving family in spite of the money and power they had. They’d look after her. And that’s what she needed, people that loved her like you but weren’t fucking terrible at everything. 

It broke you to leave her. It broke you to see Jeonghan running after you. If he’d have just run down the stairwell instead of taking the elevator, he’d have found you. 

You wanted to walk away but you couldn’t. 

Not until you knew she was safe in his hands. 

The next day he sat outside your apartment until you finally answered, telling you that he had all the time in the world because Wonwoo and Mingyu were knee deep in diapers. Eventually you answered and he didn’t shout or scream. He just sat and listened and held you when you cried. By the end of that week you’d seen a doctor, your mom, Jeonghan’s mom and Jeonghan with you, as the doctor told you that none of it was your fault and you weren’t a bad mother. A bad mother would never wait to make sure her daughter was safe. A bad mother wouldn’t have realised how bad the situation was for you or the baby. They diagnosed you with post natal depression and you spent a couple of weeks with your parents.

The guys would bring Areum by every couple of days and between her smiling face and the chaos of the three men who had come to dote on her, you gradually got better. 

After a few weeks Jeonghan suggested you move in with them. He had more than enough room for you to have your own space and they’d even decided to turn the home gym into Areum’s bedroom for when she was old enough to sleep on her own. They’d bought everything they needed for a baby and more besides. And when you said you weren’t sure, all three of them descended on you saying it was what they all wanted. They wanted to be there and surely the more help, the better. 

You agreed and the rest is history. 

It wasn’t always easy but it worked. She had three men who would do anything for her, who you see in her ever flourishing personality and you’d managed to become the mother she deserved. It didn’t stop you doubting yourself or worrying about what people thought but with three of the best cheerleaders in the world on your side, life was good. A bit mad. But good. 

“He’s on the phone to Hyeji anyway, they’re probably going you hang up , no you hang up. There’s more chance of Ari throwing up than doing what she’s told.” 

“I like her! She’s been good for him!”

“I’m not saying she hasn’t, I just wish they didn’t live in two different countries, I’m sick of hearing them having phone sex.” 

You and Jeonghan grimace at that. 

Mingyu and his girlfriend met online. They’re vloggers. Or bloggers. Or….something to do with going to cafes and eating too much food on the internet. He makes decent money off it, even enough to pay Jeonghan all the rent he owed him over the years, but you’ve no idea how he makes money off just wandering around the city when it’s raining and then drinking an overpriced latte. But he’s happy and that’s all that matters. 

“When are you going to introduce us to your new girlfriend?” You turn on your stool to smirk at Jeonghan. 

“I don’t have one.” 

“Oh please, you’re always smiling at your phone.”

“Do you not think it’s weird to try and pimp out your baby daddy?” 

“Not at all, I’m just trying to get you to leave the house.” 

“It’s not my fault I’ve somehow become a maid for you three and our daughter. Talking of her, AREUM YOU HAVE TILL THREE OR I’M COMING UP THERE,” He marches off with his hands on his hips. 

“It’ll all be fine you know,” 

“I know it will you,” you sigh as you turn back to Wonwoo, “it’s just I know people will think it’s weird and I don’t really care about them, I just don’t want them to take it out on Ari.”

“Ari can handle herself.” Wonwoo nods, smiling. 

“I know but this is the first time she’s going to be around normal families,” 

“Hey, there is nothing normal. And she’s one of the most well adjusted, intelligent, beautiful little girls I’ve ever met. And I’m a doctor so I should know.” 

“You’re a heart surgeon,” you narrow your eyes at him, “how many kids have heart attacks?”

“It happens,” he shrugs, “but I see them in the hospital, roaming around the place like feral animals. She’s way better than other kids.” 

“I’m not sure you can say that,” 

“Well I did,” he takes a slice of toast as a flustered Jeonghan stomps back into the kitchen. 

“She wants Wonwoo to do her hair, apparently the way I do plaits is wrong.” 

“I am good with my hands,” Wonwoo beams, throwing his toast down as he rushes off to do your daughter's hair. 

He’s no idea what he’s just said or the road your mind is currently travelling down but Jeonghan smiles knowingly at you watching Wonwoo disappear up the stairs and goes back to making pancakes. 

“Why don’t you just tell him?” 

“Tell who what?” 

“Tell Wonwoo how you feel.” 

“He’s already asked me how I’m feeling today, it’s a big day, you’ve all asked me.” 

“Don’t get smart with me _____, I know you better than anyone.”

It’s true. He does. You’d realised pretty early on, probably before you even had Areum, that you and Jeonghan worked really well together. But it’s very much just as friends. It was just letting off steam whenever you had sex, like a weird situationship where you were best friends until you were both horny and then you were both just means to an end. 

It worked. There was no jealousy or arguing about other people because you knew you didn’t love each other like that. You did love each other but like he’s a family member. You loved that you both brought Areum into the world. And that’s lucky. Because couples break up all the time and ruin their kid’s lives. But you two are best friends raising your child with your two other friends and if anything, you feel more secure than you would in a relationship and raising a child. 

“What do you want me to say?” You whine quietly. 

“Tell Wonwoo….”

“Tell Wonwoo what?” The man himself jumps down the bottom step of the stairs whilst a very excited Areum runs at you. 

“Mommy! Can you please tell him that I wasn’t late. I’m right on time, we only start at 9am.” 

“I thought it was 8:30?” 

“That’s what mommy told you but it’s because you’re always late.” 

“Are you serious?!” Jeonghan spins round, almost knocking the pancakes off the counter. 

“You are always late.” You dismiss him. 

“You,” he points at his daughter with the spatula, “come here and eat these pancakes. I demand it.” 

“Is there syrup?” Ari asks, her hands on her hips, the complete double of her father.  

“Obviously. I’m not a monster.” 

“Ok then,” she giggles and Jeonghan scoops her up into his arms as they flip the last pancake. 

“What did you need to tell me?” Wonwoo asks softly as he sits back down. 

“O-oh!” Fuck you need to think of something convincing, “I er, I have an appointment at the hospital and it’s around lunch time.”

“Ok?” His eyebrows knit together, “It’s nothing serious is it? Anything I can do?” 

“No! No, it’s just a dermatologist appointment. Not that I have a rash or something! It’s just a follow up about some dry skin.” Fuck, shut the hell up ______. 

“Thanks for letting me know? I guess?” 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab lunch? What with me being there and you being there and us living together, y’know as friends.”

He sits in silence until you finish whatever bullshit is coming out of your mouth. 

“Sorry _____, I have plans for lunch.” 

Of course he fucking does. You weren’t even going to tell him you were going to the hospital, you’d be happily eating your breakfast if it wasn’t for fucking Jeonghan. 

“No problem!” You smile fakely and grab the jam. 

“We could…..” 

But you don’t hear Wonwoo’s gentle voice because Jeonghan launches a pancake so high into the air that it sticks to his ten foot ceilings and chaos ensues. 

The rest of the morning passes in a whirlwind of a messy kitchen, photos with all of you and Areum before her first day at school and then Jeonghan and Wonwoo trying to calm you and Mingyu down as you both bawl in the back of the car about how your baby is all grown up.

Why do they insist on putting the pharmacy in hospitals so far away from literally everything? You swear you've been round this hospital five times and it's not like you've not been following the signs, you have. 

You thought you'd finally found it. There seemed to be a gaggle of people huddled around and you presumed they were waiting for meds but instead you stumbled on the cafeteria.  

It is lunch time. And you have walked thirty four miles in search of the pharmacy so you don't suppose it'd hurt to get something to eat. You haven't got too long until you'll need to pick Ari up from school. You and Mingyu had said you'd go mainly because you've both been checking your phones every ten minutes in case she'd fallen to the ground in a fit of tears declaring she needed her mommy. But she hadn't, it was you that felt like you needed your mom. 

You settle on just grabbing a drink from the fridges. The place is packed and you won't be the person that takes the spot in the queue for food from an overworked doctor because you're bored and in a mood about pharmacies. 

Grabbing a soda and closing the door, you're ready to head to pay when you hear a name you know better than most. You don't know the voice speaking it, but you definitely know the name. 

You search through the tables, hoping to spot him. You know he said he was busy but surely he wouldn't object to you saying hello, you do raise a child together after all. 

Just how many tables are in this fucking cafeteria?! You can't spot him for shit, maybe you were wrong, maybe it wasn't his name. But then you spot him and you feel like throwing your bottle of soda at the man at the table in front of you. 

He's smiling, the same smile you love so much, at a woman. Yes, not the most damning of situations to find him in, but he's still laughing. And if anything they're sitting pretty close to each other. Too close in your opinion, they should be at least two metres away from each other to make it decent. It's just those two at the table and they're chatting and laughing and probably falling in love and forgetting you or Ari exist completely. 

You’re not sure why you're so pissed off but why hadn't he just said he had a date. They've all been on dates since you've lived there. You have one firm rule. They don't bring anyone into Areum’s life until they know they're serious about them. She doesn't need hundreds of people in her life and it confuses her.

It was a good rule. It worked. Not that you've ever used it, you haven't been on a single date since you had her. But it worked in general for you all as a family but right now? You'd quite like it if the rule was that none of them go out of the house except for work and even then they can't speak to anyone else that isn't you. 

Well. 

You're not so bothered about the rule for Mingyu and Jeonghan but for Wonwoo? No. He needs to be chained to his desk or something so this woman can't get near him. 

You need to get out of here, you can't risk him seeing you, fuck knows what you'd end up saying. It'd either be sobbing that you loved him or you'd aim the soda you've just put back in the fridge at his little girlfriend's head. 

You rush back to the car, you'll get your cream the doctor prescribed another time, and slam the door behind you. 

Why did you think he'd ever think of you as anything more than Areum’s mom? 

Thank fuck you didn't listen to Jeonghan. If you'd have told Wonwoo exactly how you feel and he turned round and said “Cool. Here's my girlfriend." You'd never be able to step foot out of your bedroom again. Ari would need to tell her friends that her mom was like a modern day Mrs Haversham and you'd just get little updates from Jeonghan through the door. 

You've no idea what takes over you. But you do something you swore you'd never do. You'd always claimed it was like wading through the depths of hell. 

But you do it anyway. 

You take out your phone. And you download tinder. 

"Does every breakfast need to be so dramatic?” Wonwoo groans, looking at you. But frowns a little when he realises you're not really paying attention to him. He likes your little chats whilst all the chaos unfolds around you both. 

"Ari, come here let me do your hair.” 

"Woowoo does my hair." 

“Just," you sigh, scratching your brow, “come here. He's eating his breakfast," 

“I don't mind……” 

"It's fine,” you don’t look at him and just turn Ari around when she comes over so you can do her hair. 

"I was thinking we could have burgers for dinner. I got some steak and I want to try the new mincer thing I bought.” 

"Yeeees!!!” Mingyu and Ari shout together. 

"I can't, I've got plans.” 

The three men stop eating their breakfasts and stare at you, the cereal from Mingyu’s spoon falling from his spoon. 

"With who?” 

"A friend.” You finish plaiting Areum’s hair and pat her bum to send her back to her chair. 

"I thought we were your friends.” 

“Yeah! What she said!" Jeonghan points at Ari, frowning at you. 

“I do have a life, Jeonghan." 

“Is it a new friend?" Mingyu asks bluntly. 

“I met them on that thing." You mumble, not really wanting to have this conversation in front of Ari. 

“What thing?" Wonwoo demands next to you, his face like thunder. 

“The thing where people meet new friends." 

They all share blank stares as Areum happily eats her cereal, her little legs swinging. 

"What?” 

"I met someone on tinder.” You say loudly and the silence that follows is palpable. 

"What's a tinder?” 

"It's, er, well,” shit you didn't want to just blurt that out, this is the first time you're using the dating rule and it's already going wrong, "it's….." 

“It's something you use to start a fire." 

“Why would mommy be starting fires?" 

“I won't be," you glare at Mingyu, why the hell would he mention fires to a four year old?! 

“You're going to start a fire with your new friend?" 

“I'm just going to dinner with my new friend honey, there's no fire." 

“Is she nice?" 

“Yeah," Wonwoo glares, Mingyu and Jeonghan lowering themselves slightly in their seats, “is she nice?" 

"Seems to be,” you shrug, not being drawn into admitting it's very much a man that you're going to dinner with. 

"I think it's nice you have a friend mommy. I made some friends at school and I really like them. I think your friends will make you happy like my friends make me happy.” 

"Hopefully,” 

"Can I come?” 

"Not this time honey, it's a fancy restaurant anyway, you won't like the food,” you tickle her tummy and make her giggle. 

"Does that mean you'll get to dress like a princess?” 

"I don't know, I haven't decided what to wear yet.” 

"I think,” she puts her spoon down and kneels up on her chair so she can lean over to you, her little hands on your cheeks, "you always look like a princess. And," she puts her head close to yours so she can whisper to you, “don't forget that I'm your best friend mommy." 

"I won't honey,” you take her little hands and place a kiss on each palm, "c’mon let's get you to school, if we hurry we can leave these three with all this mess.” 

"Good plan mommy,” she whispers back and runs off to get her stuff. 

"Soooooo,” Jeonghan says once Areum is out of earshot, "you're going on a date?” 

"Is that not allowed?” 

"I-it is!” Mingyu rushes to add in but throws a tentative glance at Wonwoo, "I just didn't know you were looking for that right now.” 

"I haven't been on a date since I had Ari. In fact it was probably like two years before that. And you three all see people, no matter how much you hide it. Or think you do.” 

They all frown at each other, Jeonghan rolling his eyes a little because he presumes you're talking about him and whoever you think he's seeing. 

"Just, be careful.” 

"Do you say that to Wonwoo or Mingyu?!” 

"_____,” he groans, "I'm just looking out for you!” 

"Well thanks,” you scrape your chair back and stand up to take your daughter to school, "but I'm 30 years old. I can't just watch everyone live their lives. What happens when you all get married and move out? I'll just be on my own!” 

"Who said anything about getting married?!” Jeonghan shouts after you but you ignore him. 

You're going on this date. Whether they like it or not. 

You're an idiot. If you were to look up the word idiot in the dictionary there'd just be a huge fucking picture of you holding a big sign that reads "here's the world’s biggest idiot.” 

Why did you think a date would be a good idea? Especially with someone who you've spent a grand total of forty hours talking to. But then when you subtract sleeping, panicking over what to reply and washing weird stains out of Ari's clothes, you'd probably spent closer to about two hours speaking to your date. 

And you wish you hadn't. 

Seokmin seemed nice enough when you matched with him. He was hot. He had a good job. He was the right age. But he spent the whole night laughing at everything you said. 

You're hilarious, or you and Areum think you are anyway, but you literally said "do you want some bread?” And he more or less started rolling around on the floor laughing. You've no idea if it was a nervous habit or whether he was just on really hard drugs that made him think the simplest word was the funniest thing he's ever heard. 

Whatever it was, when he dropped you home (around the corner because you didn't want this cackling creep to know where you lived), you vowed to delete tinder off your phone. 

On your short walk home, you've prepared yourself for life. 

You'll live your life painting, something you already do, but now you're a spinster you'll do it much more dramatically. You'll no longer paint landscapes, which is what you specialise in now. You'll become one of those artists that throws paint at things and then says it shows the bleak end that human civilization is heading for. 

And you'll buy a cat. Or a dog. Or maybe a farm. 

Jeonghan would probably take Areum, you've proved you can't look after her on your own. Fuck. You need to stop that, you can't start spiralling down that hole again because of this one set back. 

Areum can come with you to the farm. You can be that weird mother and daughter that live on the edge of a forest and scare people as they go for hikes. She’d like that. 

One thing is for sure, you're done dating. It isn't for you. You'll just have to wait until they've all got married, take the pitying looks from everyone as they see you gradually turn to peak eccentricity and then leave for your farm by the forest. 

You take a deep breath before you open the apartment door and then enter the code. Everyone will be in bed, it's pretty late. But it's just knowing that at some point you're going to have to tell them that it was all pointless, that you'd embarrassingly chosen the weirdest man you could to go on a date with. 

The apartment is dark other than a lamp they've left on for you and you head straight for the kitchen. You need a glass of wine and you didn't dare drink on your date for fear the laughing idiot made a move you weren't ready for. 

The fridge light makes you squint and you grab the wine, wondering whether weird old ladies prefer red or white. It's probably rosé.

The wine glugs as you pour it. And then glugs a bit more as you fill it perilously close to the top. 

“Bad night?" 

“Fuck!" You spill wine on the kitchen counter, “shit." 

“I’ve got it," Wonwoo rushes from his stool and grabs a cloth. 

“I didn't know you were there," you shake the wine off your hand and put the bottle back in the fridge. 

"Needed a glass of water,” 

You just hum and take your glass of wine. 

"Night then.” 

"Wait,” you stop on your way to your bedroom, "do you not want to talk about it?” 

"There's nothing to talk about. It was a date.” You still don't turn to look at him. 

"Have I done something to upset you?” 

"No.” 

"Then why won't you turn around?” 

"I'm going to bed.” 

"Was he cruel or something?” 

"Nope, it was fine." 

You hear him sigh but you can't face him. It's fucking embarrassing knowing they're all moving on in life and you're stuck where you are. 

“Goodnight," you mumble quietly and rush off to your room. 

Wonwoo watches you go. He doesn't understand what's going on or why you've suddenly decided to download tinder. But hopefully, eventually, one of them can figure it out. 

It turns out you were wrong. That photo of you in the dictionary with your big sign declaring yourself the world’s biggest idiot is now wrong. You now need a sign that reads “the universe’s biggest idiot” because as you lie on your daughter’s bed, your head pounding and your whole body cringing in horror, you can’t think of a single thing you’ve done that’s made you feel as horrible or as guilty as you do now. 

Last night: 

“Do you think I need to ring your mom again? 

“No,” Jeonghan sighs. 

“My mom?” 

“_____ seriously she’s only gone for two nights and she’s with all of her grandparents, if anything she won’t even remember we exist.” 

“You don’t think she loves us?”

“Why are you always such a whiney drunk?”

“I used to be a horny drunk but look where that got us.” 

“I don’t think we’ve done too badly,” Jeonghan smiles as he leans against the kitchen counter with you. 

“True,” you knock your beer back and squint into the distance, “do you know any of these people? I swear I only know Wonwoo in that whole crowd.” 

“Nope. But Mingyu’s happy and he’s stopped crying because he’s turning thirty so I’ll happily take the loud music and an apartment full of strangers.” 

You hum and take another sip of your drink. 

“Why didn’t you bring someone?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirks at you. 

“I haven’t got anyone to bring.” You turn away from him, your eyes drifting to Wonwoo who's trying to leave the little makeshift dance floor before Mingyu makes him dance with him again. 

“Me neither.” 

“Why do you keep doing that? I know you’re seeing someone, why can’t you just tell me?” 

“I’m…..Fuck…..” He looks at the ceiling with worried eyes. 

“Do I know her or something?”

“It’s…..It’s not a she.” 

If you weren’t four beers in, your brain might not need quite so long to catch up with what he’s just said. But you’ve always been a light weight which means Jeonghan has to wait awkwardly whilst you realise what he’s just said. 

“A he?” You turn to him fully, putting your beer down. 

“Hm-mm,” He looks down. 

“Is he nice to you?” 

“What?” He frowns. 

“Is he kind?” 

“Yes?” 

“Good.” You nod, “That’s all that matters.”

“That’s it?” 

“Jeonghan, I just want you to be happy. If you’ve realised that happiness is with a man, then that’s great.”

“You’re the first one I’ve told. I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks.” He says like he’s had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“I knew you were up to something,” You narrow your eyes at him and poke his chest, “I love you Jeonghan.”

He pulls you in for a hug mumbling an “I love you too” with a roll of his eyes. It’s clear he’s been worrying about telling you, or even anyone, about who he was seeing but why, you don’t know. 

“Thank you _____,” 

“What for?” You ask into his shoulder. 

“Everything. I’ve got the most beautiful little girl and an amazing life. Just. Thank you. For trusting me all those years ago.”

“And I’m the whiney drunk?” You pull back to look at him. 

“I guess we both lost our drunk horniness.” He chuckles as you both lean back against the counter with your drinks. 

You wait what you hope is an acceptable amount of time before you ask what you really want to know. 

“Is he hot?” 

“So fucking hot.” He high fives you. 

“SHOTS. COME ON YOU TWO!” 

“Do we have to?” 

“He isn’t going to leave us alone if we don’t.” Jeonghan grumbles and drags you over to the party. 

----------------

You’ve had far too much to drink. Everyone has had far too much to drink. Some idiot decided that playing spin the bottle was a great idea and when you, Jeonghan and Wonwoo said absolutely not, you’re not seventeen years old, you got forced into the circle anyway. 

The bottle missed you every time thankfully but when it was your turn to spin the bottle of dread, it landed on the one person you didn’t want. Because of course it did. 

The bottle landed on Wonwoo and even through your drunken haze you could see he wasn’t impressed. Handily. Right at the second you’d tried to make your way over to him, he got a phone call from the hospital he couldn’t miss. 

Because what’s more embarrassing than playing spin the bottle at thirty years old? Playing spin the bottle at thirty years old and the recipient of your impending kiss literally running away from you. 

The game finishes and you’re more than a little drunk and you’re more than a little pissed off. 

You’re going to find that gorgeous ass hole of man and you’re going to defend your own honour. 

You march around the apartment until you finally find him, trying to sort the trash out. 

“Wonw-woo,” you stammer, swaying towards him. 

“Hey! I wondered where you’d got to!” He smiles. 

You want to punch him. How dare he smile at you like he smiled at that woman.

“I’m not the one who ran off!” 

“What do you mmmpf,” 

He doesn’t have a chance to answer you. You throw yourself at him, your lips smacking into his more like you’re attacking him than kissing him. If you were sober you’d see his wide eyes and arms flailing around so he doesn’t fall. But you don’t because you’re more interested in kissing him with so much force that his lips will be too sore to show that smile you love so much to anyone else other than you. Your hands hold his cheeks as you lose yourself for what feels like an hour but is probably more like a few seconds and then finally release him. 

“What the…….”

“I’m gonna be sick,” You manage to get out before you run off to the bathroom. 

So that’s how you find yourself here. The day after Mingyu’s thirtieth birthday party, on your daughter’s bed and avoiding the world outside of these four walls. You’ve no idea why you’d decided to spend the day in her room. You woke up, had a shower and then the flashbacks started and you felt yourself folding in on yourself. You weren’t just embarrassed, you were fucking mortified. 

It’s probably because her room is literally like being in the clouds. You’d spent weeks painting clouds on the walls and ceiling when she was ready for her own room. 

It was relaxing to some extent and it felt like she was near to you, cuddling by your side and telling you about her day. Instead of it just being you in your cave of embarrassment. 

The door creaks open and all you can think is that you hope it’s not Wonwoo. 

It’s obvious why he didn’t want to kiss anyone. It’s obvious why he pretended he had a phone call. Maybe not obvious to everyone who doesn’t know he’s seeing someone but you did. And in your stupid drunken state you kissed him anyway and you feel fucking terrible. You know he would never be the kind to cheat, he must be feeling fucking awful. He probably hates you and he’d have every reason to. 

Such a stupid, selfish thing to do to a man who has only ever shown you and Areum kindness and warmth. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s head pokes through the door with Mingyu’s head just above it, “can we come in?” 

“Sure.” You keep staring at the ceiling with your head on your daughter’s pillow. “Do you have to do that!” 

“What?! How else do you want me to lie down?” Mingyu glares down at you as he clambers over you so he’s between you and the wall. 

Is nothing sacred? Now you’ve got Mingyu on one side and Jeonghan on the other, all three of you staring at the ceiling on Areum’s single bed. 

“This bed isn’t built for three. You're barely on it."

“Well if you’d mope in your own room, we’d have more space wouldn’t we.” Jeonghan scolds you.  

“What’s going on?" Mingyu asks softly. 

“Nothing." 

“_____, please. You've been weird for days. Please just talk to us." Jeonghan reaches for your hand, Mingyu taking your other. 

“I'm," you sigh, “I'm scared." 

“Of what?" 

“Life?" 

“Should I call the doctor or something?" Jeonghan rushes to sit up but you make him lie back down.

“It's not that." You think about how to phrase it. “You're all moving on." 

“I've been dating for a month or so!" 

“And Hyeji is already on a plane home! I actually think we work better in other countries." 

“I don't mean like that. I just mean, you're all dating, you're open to dating. And I'm scared of the future. Last time I was on my own with Ari I couldn't be what she needed.” 

"You're a great mom!” Mingyu interrupts. 

"I am now,” 

"You were then.” Jeonghan says bluntly, squeezing your hand.

"I'm just……I'm scared to be on my own when you've all moved on. I'm not saying you won't be there for her," 

“We'll be there for you too. And you can date! You can do whatever you want to!" 

“I don't want to. Well I do……what I want isn’t important. I can't have what I want." 

They both stay silent. They know what you want. They know who you want. 

"I feel like life's moving on and leaving me behind and I don't want to be the reason you all hold yourselves back. I don't want to be the person I was when I left Areum at your door but I don't want you to not be able to move on because I left her at your door." 

“Fuck that's a lot of feelings all at once _____." Mingyu mumbles. 

“Do you want to know something?" 

“Go on," you and Mingyu turn your heads to Jeonghan, him still looking at the ceiling. 

“I worried you'd all move on without me. I was having all these feelings about who I was attracted to……" 

“He's told me about his hot piece of ass," Mingyu whispers in your ear. 

“And I didn't think I'd ever come to terms with being bi." 

You squeeze his hand, knowing that's the first time he's probably said that out loud. 

“But before that I'd already decided, you all wouldn't get rid of me." 

“What do you mean?" 

“My parents are building a new luxury complex. And the top floor has three apartments, even bigger than this one. We'll have one each." He says matter of factly. 

“And you've just decided that?" 

“I mean you can all do what you want but it's there." 

“You planned it out? For us?" 

“I like our little family. I think it's good for Areum." 

“I couldn't face having to tell her that she couldn't see any of you anymore, she has three dads. She proudly tells people she has her daddy, her Wooowoo daddy and Gyugyu daddy. I couldn't bear her not seeing any of you, that's what I've been worrying about. That and how I’d cope." 

“Wait, we're not moving yet are we?" 

"They're still trying to get planning permits. It'll be a couple of years yet.” 

"A couple of years of more of this sounds good.” Mingyu snuggles his head onto your shoulder and you do the same to Jeonghan. 

A gentle silence falls, some of the worries eased about what would happen as you all kept growing. And knowing you'd be able to meet people or date or marry or just do whatever you wanted but still near each other, helps more than Jeonghan probably realises. 

“Did something happen at the party?" Jeonghan asks softly. 

“I think I upset Wonwoo. I think I made him do something that'll hurt someone." 

“Who?" 

“When I was at the hospital I saw him with the woman he's seeing. I don't know why he didn't just tell us he was seeing someone." 

“He is? I don't think he….” 

“Yeah. And I've done something that’ll hurt both of them." 

"He'll understand, whatever it is.” 

"I doubt it.” 

"Go see him,” Jeonghan replies. 

"He's not here is he?” 

"Go see him at work. If it's making you feel this bad, go and say you're sorry. At least then when he gets home from work and Ari comes back from being with her grandparents, there'll be no awkwardness." 

“When did you become so good with these things, Kim Mingyu?” 

"I finally fucked my girlfriend in real life. It changes a man.” 

"Oh my god is that what that noise was?! I thought there was a cat being strangled somewhere!” 

You laugh but smack Jeonghan on the chest for being mean, though even Mingyu snorts. He was pretty fucking loud, taking full advantage of there being no Areum around. 

"Jeonghan?” 

"Yeah?” 

"These apartments, do I……” 

"Yes you have to pay rent Mingyu.” 

The three of you giggle and keep staring at the painted clouds on the ceiling but you know what you've got to do. Just two more minutes of peaceful bliss and you'll do it. You'll man up and take responsibility for your actions. 

If only it was as hard to find cardiology as it was to find the pharmacy. Once Mingyu and Jeonghan had told you it'd all be fine for the four thousandth time, you got in the car and seemed to arrive at the hospital way quicker than you thought was possible. 

Will he be even more pissed at you because you're disturbing him at work? Will he have already told his girlfriend what happened? Fuck if she's also working today she'll probably have security throw you out of the hospital. 

“Can I help you?" 

“Oh!" You spin round to find a woman in scrubs sitting at a desk in the centre of the department. 

“You look a little lost." She says kindly. 

“I'm looking for Won…I-I mean Dr Jeon?" 

“Are you a patient? I think he's in surgery at the moment. I could…..” 

"_____?” 

"Wonwoo?” You look up to find him walking out of some double doors that lead to the operating theatres, pulling his scrub cap off and looking confused. 

Fuck. She's with him. She doesn't look pissed, so maybe he hasn't told her yet. Maybe you should? It might sound better coming from another woman? You could explain everything you're feeling and she might not be as pissed. But that's fucking selfish, to expect her to just understand that you've kissed her boyfriend. 

“Is Ari ok? What's wrong?" He rushes over to you, all of his colleagues trying to not look interested in who this woman is that clearly knows the hot heart surgeon. 

"She's fine. I just needed to talk to you,” 

He gestures for you to move a little further away from where his colleagues have congregated. 

"Why? What's wrong?" 

What's wrong?! He can't be serious. 

“Do you think she'd talk to me?" 

“Who?" 

“Your girlfriend," you mutter under your breath, looking over at the woman who doesn't seem bothered that you're talking to him. 

So she must not know then. 

"_____ what are you talking about?” He's looking more and more concerned, he must've been stressed all day about it. 

"I know she'll have every right to hate me and I know you probably hate me. Fuck I shouldn't have done it, I'll tell her it was all me. I was just upset, I swear I never meant to cause any trouble,” 

"What? Wait. Er Dr Kim,” he gets the attention of another doctor by the desk, "I just need to sort something out, could you do the post op checks and then we'll run through what you'll need to do tomorrow when I'm off.” 

"No problem boss!” 

"Come with me.” He mumbles, making you follow him down a corridor. 

Surely he's not not going to tell her what happened. That's not Wonwoo. 

He opens a door and gestures for you to walk into what appears to be an on call room and your stomach drops. This is where he tells you he hates you and he wants you to leave the apartment, he'll probably say you're a bad influence on Ari and you shouldn't be around her either. 

"Right.” He closes the door. "What are you talking about?” 

"I've been worrying all day and I swear I didn't mean to cause you any problems! I was just sad you obviously didn't want to kiss me during spin the bottle but my drunk brain didn't comprehend that of course you didn't want to kiss me. You've got a girlfriend that you're clearly more than happy with. And I suppose I should apologise for telling Mingyu and Jeonghan about her, you were obviously trying to keep it private but I saw you when I came for my appointment, I wasn't spying on you," you rush to say, “I just stopped for a drink when I was looking for the pharmacy and saw you. I left straight away, I promise." 

“Why didn't you come over if you saw me while you were here?" 

“You said you had plans, I didn't want to interrupt your date." 

He blinks at you. 

“Is this why you've been weird with me? Because of what you saw." 

Curse him for being so clever. Though it doesn't take a doctor to figure out why you crashed out so much. 

“Fuck I may as well just be honest." You sigh, “I saw you and it was like everything flashed before me, you all moving on now you're all seeing someone and me just stuck where I am now. Or worse back where I was before I moved in with you all. I got back in the car and downloaded that fucking app and ended up on a date with an absolute weirdo. I actually blame Jeonghan more than anything, he was going on about telling you and what would that have even achieved!" 

“I thought you did tell me? You said you had an appointment and asked me for lunch," 

“R-right," you still need to cover up what Jeonghan actually meant, “exactly you said you were busy. You had a date." 

“So why just be weird with me? You've been fine with Mingyu and Jeonghan." 

You stare at him. How the hell do you get around that? 

“Fuuuuckk," you groan with your head in your hands as you take a deep breath. “I like you. I've liked you since about six months after I moved in. I've sat in my bed and cried every time you've been on a date over the years. And last night I took it too far, I saw you clearly fake a call to get out of kissing me during that stupid fucking game and I saw red. I just wanted…. I don't even know what I wanted." You pause, “I wanted you. But you're not mine and now I owe you and her a massive apology. My head's been all over the place and that's no excuse and I've probably ruined your relationship and…." 

“_____," 

“....you probably hate me and….” 

"_____,” 

".....you probably don't even want me near you, I'll move……” 

"_____!!!” 

You jump when he shouts at you. 

“Take a deep breath. Please." 

Why is he being nice to you? He should be telling you to fuck off. But you follow his breathing when he takes a deep breath and you feel a little less anxious. 

“Thank you," you breathe again, “but you shouldn't be being nice, you should….." 

“Will you please shut the fuck up!" 

You slam your mouth shut, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

"That woman,” 

"I'll apologise to her! I promise!” 

"_____.” He grabs your cheeks, "Please. Stop talking. Just shut. Up. And listen to me.” 

You nod dumbly, his hands still on your cheeks.

"I don't have a girlfriend. And I haven't been on a date in fucking ages, in fact I think I've had five since you've been fully in our lives and they've all been shit.” 

"Then who….." 

“Shut up," he whispers, smirking at you like he knows it's physically hurting you to shut your damn mouth, “the woman you saw me with is a student who's been with us for two weeks to learn about a new technique we're trying out. What you saw was an interview for her research paper." 

He must see the relief in your eyes because his smirk turns into a small smile. 

“I wouldn't go on a date with anyone because I like someone else." 

Well fuck. You're certain he must've been able to hear your heart break. Whoever works in the well hidden pharmacy probably heard it. 

“Do you want me to tell you about her?" 

No. You don't want to hear about her. Why would you want to hear about her?! 

And besides. He's told you not to speak and so now he can deal with the consequences of those words. 

"You can speak.” He rolls his eyes. 

Oh fuck. 

"I don't really want to hear it,” 

"No?” He steps even closer to you, his hands still holding your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your skin a little. 

You shake your head. 

"I'll tell you anyway. She's a similar height to you." He smiles softly, “she actually has the same hair colour as you. And really similar eyes. She's funny and kind and so fucking hot." 

You hate her.

“And she makes me excited to get out of bed each morning." 

Fucking bitch. 

“She’s the most talented artist I've ever met." 

She's probably a sculptor. They're all hot. Fucking assholes. 

"She’s actually really good friends with Mingyu. And she knows Jeonghan better than anyone. And she has the most beautiful daughter, who loves to read murder mysteries and does makeovers on me every Friday night. I'm still actually getting the glitter off me from the last one.” 

Well if he wanted all that he could've just….wait. You frown at him. 

“Are you saying?" 

“I literally couldn't make it more obvious _____," he smiles at you, his thumbs still brushing your cheeks. 

"So you're not in love with that woman?!”

"No, I'm in love with someone else.” 

"Me?” You point at yourself. 

"Yes _____, you.” He chuckles. "Surely Jeonghan and Mingyu told you that me dating someone would be bullshit? They've been telling me to tell you for months. If not years." 

“They probably tried," you admit, you did think Mingyu wanted to say something when you were telling them. 

"Why didn't you just tell me? Instead of downloading fucking tinder and making me want to strangle whoever you'd been on a date with.” 

"Is that why you were in the kitchen?” 

"I'd been there two hours.” 

"That's a pretty big glass of water.” 

"Hm,” he hums, pulling you against him, his arms around your waist, "almost as big as your glass of wine. I would’ve made a bigger deal out of you ignoring me but a massive part of me was just pleased it had clearly gone badly." 

“Well thanks!" You scoff. 

"You still should've told me.” 

"I didn't want to ruin things when you said you didn't feel the same, I couldn't bear it if it affected your relationship with Ari or it ruined our little family. And,” you think about it, "you could've told me y’know!” 

"I just have.” 

"After several breakdowns on my part.” 

"Well I didn't know why you were being weird!” 

"At least Jeonghan isn't wasting his time with the apartment complex now I know you don't hate me. Wait.” 

"What?” He mumbles, watching you thinking about something.  

"He said there were three apartments.” 

"Who did?” 

"Jeonghan.” 

"Can you rewind a bit. What apartments and what complex?” 

"Jeonghan’s parents are building a new apartment complex. He said earlier when we were in bed,” 

"When you were what?!” 

"I was spiralling in Ari’s room and then they joined me and we just sort of lay there and figured life out.” 

"I've always wondered what you three do when I'm at actual work.” 

"Hey we work! Well. I do. Well I paint. And Mingyu does whatever he does. And I don't really know…..what would we class Jeonghan as? Our house husband?” 

"I don't know,” he laughs, putting a stray piece of hair behind your ear and making you shiver a little. "Tell me about how you figured life out in the space of a day please.” 

"Oh yeah. Well his parents are building a whole new luxury apartment complex and he's reserved the whole top floor for us. Obviously we'd pay rent," 

“I bet Mingyu was thrilled with that," 

“Oh he's probably still pouting," you dismiss, “but he said there's three apartments. And I didn't think anything of it when he said it but he knew? Not that I'm saying we’re going to live together…” 

"We do live together,” 

"Oh yeah,” you grin, "but yeah, so he said three. That man is so sneaky.” 

“Wait so we're moving?" 

“Oh they're not built yet, it'll be a couple of years.”

“I could do a couple more years of this," He holds you closer. 

“That's what we said." You smile and finally wrap your arms around him too. 

You gaze at him and it feels very like he's about to finally kiss you, his eyes keep flitting down to your lips but that reminds you of something. 

“Hold on. If you like me," 

“Love you." He corrects. 

“Love me,” you roll your eyes, "I love you too by the way. But if you love me, why did you run away and pretend to have a phone call during spin the bottle?” 

"Because, and call me old fashioned, but I'd have quite liked the woman I've been in love with for years to be sober when we had our first kiss. And I didn't want it to be in front of a room full of drunk strangers.” 

"Oh.” Your cheeks heat, "I ruined that then.” 

"Not really. You just very aggressively kissed my chin last night.” 

"Well you could've told me that! I've been worrying about being a homewrecker all day!” 

"How could I tell you when I didn't know what you've been thinking!” 

You narrow your eyes at him. 

"Very clever Dr Jeon.” 

"Don't do that.” He mutters. 

"What?” 

"Call me Dr Jeon." 

“Don't people call you that all the time?" 

“They do," he holds you a little closer again, “but it sounds different when you say it. Makes me feel like I've got all the power." 

“Is that right?" You quirk your brow at him. 

“Mm," 

His lips are so close you can feel his breath, fuck it's actually happening. 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. 

"Fuck,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks it, "I've got to go, the shifts ending and I need to do hand over. I'll be like twenty minutes? I'm off work tomorrow so I need to do handover to the night team and my team who’re in tomorrow.” 

"It's fine,” you smile, but he's still holding you. 

"Did you drive here?”

"Yeah,” 

"I didn't. I got a cab. I know I only had two drinks but I didn't want to take the risk and it was so early when I left for work. Wait for me? And we’ll go home together?” 

"Sounds good.” 

"I really want to kiss you,” he glances at your lips again, "but if I start I won't want to stop.” 

"Then go, the sooner you're done, the sooner we can go. It works quite well actually, I need to find the pharmacy.” 

“Still?" 

“Well I was trying to not cry when I left the other day." 

"It's near the entrance.” 

"What?! I walked around this damn hospital hundreds of times the other day!” 

“They’re probably closed now," he checks his watch. 

“How can a hospital pharmacy close? Do people not need things all the time?" 

“They do," he strokes your cheek again, “but it's separate for inpatients. What is it you need?" 

“Oh," you search your pockets, these are the same jeans from the other day you threw on, “a-ha! This," you hand it to him. 

“Er," he checks the prescription, “I'll get one of the nurses to get it. He owes me a favour for covering for him doing something completely unsanitary in here last week." 

You grimace at the dingy bed in the corner. The horrors that bed must've seen. 

“I'll wait in the car then.” You kiss his cheek and try not to smile at how it flusters him. 

"Ok.” 

But he doesn't move, he just gazes at you, his fingers drawing patterns on your back. 

“Go," you shew him off you, “go be an important doctor and I'll be waiting in the car." 

“Promise?" He opens the door and you follow him out. 

“I promise." You kiss his other cheek but this time he's ready for you and he kisses you back on your cheek straight away. 

“Bye then," he whispers, kissing the other. 

“Bye." You grin and turn to head out, turning left off the corridor. 

“_____? Other way!" 

He smiles as you reappear sheepishly. 

“I'll be in the car,” you point and head in the right direction. 

"I'll be as quick as I can!” He shouts after you and heads back to work. 

You more or less skip to the car, a smile plastered on your face and your stomach full of butterflies. 

You intend to do two things when you get home. One, kiss Wonwoo until your lips are chapped. And two, kill Mingyu and Jeonghan for clearly knowing a lot more than they were letting on. 

"Where are you two going?”

"Hello!” Jeonghan replies looking like him and Mingyu have been caught doing something they absolutely shouldn’t be doing. 

"Fancy seeing you here!" 

“Mingyu. We live here. Where are you going?" You refuse to move out of the way of the elevator, Wonwoo looking pretty sheepish too at the side of you. 

"We've decided we can't go on without seeing our daughter. So we're going to see her.” 

"You're driving two hundred miles to the coast to see Areum when she'll be home tomorrow afternoon?” 

"Y-yes.” They look at each other. 

"You told me I was being ridiculous last night when I said we needed to keep checking on her.” 

"Oh y’know, things change.” Jeonghan shrugs. 

"Jeonghan.” You step closer to him, narrowing your eyes, "You're willingly travelling all that way, to arrive really late at night when Areum will already be asleep to spend a few hours with her and your parents and my parents,” 

"Wonwoo’s are there too! Mine couldn't go because they……" Mingyu's words trail off when you all glare at him. 

"What's the point?” 

He glances at Wonwoo who's still looking more than a little awkward. 

"Oh I can't lie to her Wonwoo, she knows all my tells,” he gives up. "He rang, told us to fuck off for the night.” He points at Wonwoo. "We're going to stay at my parents’ while they're not there.”  

"When did you do that?” You frown at Wonwoo. 

"As I was walking to your car. I just thought we needed some space before Ari comes back,” 

"Space.” Mingyu snickers. 

"Yes Mingyu space. It's been a bit of a mad day." Wonwoo's stern look stops Mingyu's smugness. 

“We'll be going then," Jeonghan barges past you, dragging Mingyu along with him. 

“Don't have too much fun." Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Idiot." You say under your breath, you and Wonwoo looking at them in the elevator. 

The doors start to close. 

“_____!" Jeonghan says quickly before the door closes, “don't forget to use protection!" You hear them both fall about laughing as they disappear completely. 

Silence. Clearly Wonwoo was hoping they'd already be gone before you got home. 

“I'm sorry," he groans, scratching his neck, “I just thought we needed to talk or just spend some time together? Without having to be quiet or having those two just listening to everything we say." 

“Wonwoo," you sigh, “I'm not annoyed or anything. It's just we've only just confessed and I don't want all our parents asking questions, because I know those two won't be able to keep their mouths shut, and confusing Ari." 

“I've already told them all. Check the group chat. I'm sorry I couldn't keep it in, I've just waited so long and I thought it's one less thing for you to worry about." 

Your eyebrows knit together as you pull your phone out. 

Wonwoo: Just so we're all on the same page. Me and _____ are in a relationship. I'll be taking no questions and please don't tell Areum yet. Enjoy your break, see you when you're back. 

Well. Putting that in the group chat you have with all your parents and Mingyu and Jeonghan is certainly one way to tell them all. 

“Very efficient." You chuckle. “Wait. Your mom says it's about time? Mine says it's only taken us four years? Even Jeonghan's mom is saying she knew. My dad owes Mingyu's dad money, they had a bet?! They all knew?!" 

“It appears the only two that didn't know, is us." He smiles. 

"Typical.” You scoff. 

"You're not annoyed with me for telling them to fuck off?” 

"A whole night without the troublesome twosome? I'm ecstatic.”

“Did you eat yet?" 

“No. But that's why you sent them away? To eat?" You smirk, stepping closer to him. 

“Don't start something you can't finish _____." 

“Who says I can't finish it?"

“You weren’t lying,” you smile as Wonwoo grabs your t-shirt and pulls your lips back to his. 

The second you uttered those fated words near the elevator, his lips were on yours and you’d barely detached yourselves from each other to breathe let alone check where you were going. Your bedroom is on the third floor of the penthouse and you’re certain both of you will have shins covered in bruises from how many times you bumped into shit on your way up here. Yes, you could've just stopped kissing. But that’s not an option. Not now you know how fucking good he is at it. 

“Wait what? You think I’m lying about loving you?” 

“No,” you giggle, kissing his lips one more time, “I meant you weren’t lying about not being able to stop once you’ve started.” 

He just rolls his eyes and drags you back to his perfect lips, backing you towards your bed but he bangs into your bedside table as he does it. 

“For fucks sake!” he switches your lamp on, ready to give you a stern talking to for laughing at him but he spots something that causes him to do a double take. 

“No!!” You launch forward but it’s too late, he’s already grabbed it. 

“What’s this?” He murmurs, inspecting what’s in his hand. 

“What does it look like?” You mumble, trying to grab it, “give it to me Wonwoo.” 

“Do you always just leave your dildos about the place?” 

“I don’t have dildos, I have a dildo.” 

“So if I open this draw I won’t find like ten more sex toys?” he raises his brow at you. 

“No,” you fold your arms, “I mean sure there’s a clit sucker thing but what do you want me to do?! It’s not illegal! It’s not……” 

He fists your t-shirt and pulls you flush against him. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” He smirks as he grips your chin and moves your head to the side, “just thinking of all the things we could do. May as well make you well and truly mine whilst I can, once everyone is back it’ll be sneaking around and trying to be quiet. Something you’re famously not good at.” He hisses in your ear. 

“Are you saying I talk too much?” 

“Oh baby you never shut the fuck up.” He smiles wickedly. “I do have some ideas of how to make you shut up though. Would you be interested in hearing them?” 

You clench your thighs together. You always got the feeling that he was like this in the bedroom. You’d never heard him, he’d never brought anyone home at all. But he’s just too sweet and caring in everyday life to not be a fucking freak in the bedroom. 

“I might be.” You try to say like you’re not ready to let him do whatever the fuck he wants. 

“Is this all ok?”

He makes sure you look at him properly, his kind eyes showing you he doesn’t want to do anything you’re not ready for or comfortable with. 

“Yeah,” You smile, kissing him again, “I’ve thought about this for so long. Do whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want?” 

You pause. 

“No anal. At least not now.” You think about it for a minute, “Or slapping. And I haven’t got any condoms but I am on birth control so if you’re clean, I’m fine with going raw.”

“Really? I thought you…….”

“You thought I’d be scared of getting pregnant? I got pregnant because we were both fucking idiots. I’m not going to do that again. Not yet anyway.” 

His face softens when he realises that you’re implying you want everything you can with him. Just not right now. 

“I really do love you y’know.” He smiles, kissing your forehead. “But,” he stands back from you. “Kneel down.” 

“What?” 

“Did I stutter? Kneel down.” 

“Should I?” You look down at your clothes. 

“Keep them on, until I’ve moulded your throat to the shape of my dick at least.” 

“Fuck.” You fall to your knees in wonder, Wonwoo trying not to smile at how quickly you’ve submitted to him. 

He places the dildo down on the bed side table, the glint of something wicked in his eyes and slowly undresses in front of you. 

Your eyes follow every moment, every inch of skin being uncovered that you've craved to touch for so long. He's big, he always has been but recently he seems to have grown even bigger, even stronger. You've always got the impression that if you were wrapped in his arms, nothing bad in the world or in your head could get you. 

His boxers are the last to go and the second they're off his dick slaps against his abdomen. 

Well it turns out all of him is big then. Fuck he's going to ruin you and you're going to enjoy every last second of it. 

He crouches down, tucking his finger under your chin and makes you look at him. 

“For someone who talks so much you've really hurt me these past few days _____. Ignoring me, making me feel like I've done something wrong," he sighs. “I think… I think I need some reassurance. That'll you treat me well, that you'll use your pretty little mouth properly in the future. Do you want to show me, baby? Show me just how well your mouth works?" 

You frown in confusion before he reaches just a little behind where you're kneeling and brings the dildo back into view. 

“Show me." 

Jesus. 

He's still crouching down to you, completely naked and dick rock hard whilst you're kneeling on the floor fully clothed and clearly nothing more than a source of entertainment to him. 

He brings the silicone tip closer to you and every part of you melts for the man in front of you. Fully ready to give him whatever he wants. 

Making sure you look him in the eye, yours burning into his, you let a little spit drip from your mouth. Just enough to wet the tip as it slowly falls from your mouth. His eyes falter a little like he didn't think you'd match his freak quite as much. 

But that's where he's wrong. 

You've spent night after night thinking of the most obscene fantasies your brain could conjure. 

You let your tongue trace around where the hole would be, flicking it a little showing him exactly how good you'll be for him. 

Your lips wrap around the tip, imagining it's his and your eyes finally leave his to look at his dick. Your eyebrows knit together, a look of concentration on your face as you focus on how he's already dribbling a little precum. You start to bob your head as he holds it for you, his eyes transfixed by the way you're sucking the dildo but clearly imagining it's him. 

You hum around it, desperate to show him just how much you want him, weirdly even wanting to make him proud of the way you're performing for him. 

“You're doing so well," he murmurs, his free hand coming to hold your cheek as you keep bobbing on the dildo. 

He kneels on the floor in front of you but sitting up on his knees so he's taller than you, giving you an even better view of him and making you moan around the dildo. 

“Awww baby, are you desperate?" 

You nod as best you can, hoping this means he'll let you near him. 

“Yeah?" His smile turns wicked, “prove it for me." 

And he shoves the dildo further into your mouth making you gag on it. Fuck this is more than you could’ve imagined and he's not even touched you. You're not even undressed and you feel like he's wrecked you. 

Wonwoo starts fucking the dildo in and out of your mouth, a smirk on his face as he watches you gag around it, the tears and drool only making the sight even prettier for him. And yet his thumb strokes your cheek like it did when he was telling you he loved you earlier, nothing but gentleness in the loving touch. 

"Good girl _____, you're doing so well. You look so pretty like this, so needy for me,"  

You move your head even quicker, desperately sucking the dildo, him meeting your movements and making your gag occasionally. 

“I'm so sorry _____. If I'd have known you were up here, fucking yourself with this," he shoves it down your throat and your eyes roll back as you choke, "I'd have done something sooner, ruined you so much sooner." 

His gentle voice mixed with him fucking your throat with the dildo has you in a space you've never been in before but fuck you love it. 

It's when he spots you wiggling a little bit, desperately trying to relieve some of the tension between your legs, that he realises just how much he needs to feel you. You've put on a pretty little show for him but he’s dreamt about your lips wrapped around him for so long and you're clearly so ready for him. 

His hand that was on your cheek moves to your hair. He isn't overly harsh with it, he doesn't want to hurt you, but he gets your hair in a half assed ponytail as he stands up. Wonwoo yanks you off the dildo, your lips swollen and chin wet and he was going to check in with you but you lunge forward and he doesn't stop you. He's not even sure if he could.

You don't even ease him into it, just adjust your mouth because he's bigger than your dildo and go to town. Your tongue runs flat along the bottom of him whilst you bob your head frantically, your hands on his thighs steadying you because of how desperately you're fucking your face onto his dick. 

“Fucking hell," he throws his head back, “I told you to show me on your fucking dildo," he groans, his hips twitching when you swirl your tongue around his tip and go back to your bobbing, “you didn't show me shit. Fuck why are you so good at that?" 

Oh he's not seen anything yet, of course you weren't going to really go to town on a fucking dildo. 

You bob a little more, your cheeks hollowed and lips tight around him. Just a couple more bobs and then you fully take him in your mouth. Well your throat. And then swallow around him. 

The whine Wonwoo lets out above you should've been recorded. Then you could listen to it on nights when he's at work and you need him. Because just that one whine could get you off again and again. 

"Right. No. Get off,” he tries to move you back but you send a glare his way and flick his tip defiantly. 

"_____,” he warns, "Get. Off.” 

You roll your eyes and take his dick out of your mouth. 

"What?!” 

He pauses for a second, something clicking in his mind and he finally realises this is actually happening. You're actually kneeling in front of him, you drool on your t-shirt and cheeks damp from your tears. 

“I'm not about to cum in your mouth for our first time having sex." 

“Then cum wherever you want," you say like it's obvious, “but why have you stopped me? Come back here,” you try to crawl forward. 

"No.” He crouches down in front of you again, a weirdly proud smile on his lips. "Get on the bed.” 

You clamber up, not really caring how needy you look. You are needy for him. Just the same way he is for you. 

“Wait," you huff as you flop down on your bed, leaning on your elbows as he watches you fondly, “should I take these off?" You gesture to your clothes. 

“I'll do it," he shrugs, crawling up the bed to you, looking like an overly hot predator. 

"Oh I could get used to this.” You lie back. 

"Good.” He hovers over you, his thumb wiping your lip, "I'm gonna treat you so well _____. We've spent so long avoiding what was clearly so obvious, if you said you wanted the moon I'd try to find a way to get it for you.” 

You smile up at him, the man who you're fairly certain is the love of your life and realise you've never been happier. 

His lips linger on yours one last time before they move slowly down your neck, feather light kisses heating every patch of skin they touch. 

One of his hands rests by your head, the other stroking your waist as his lips travel over your cloth covered breasts, mumbling into your t-shirt the occasional “so pretty" and “I'm so lucky." 

His hand that was on your waist moves to shimmy under your t-shirt and he must feel you tense up. 

You hadn't even been worrying about it. It simply never occurred to you. It didn't need to occur to you. 

"What's wrong?” He asks straight away, a flash of worry on his handsome features, his hand paused. 

"I haven't been,” you swallow, a whole new bunch of worries now fogging your brain, "I haven't been naked in front of anyone since I had Areum. I didn't even realise I was worried about it until you moved your hand.” 

"No one?” 

"Do you think I've been sneaking men up here?” 

"No,” he smiles, "I just wasn't sure….." 

"The last time was when I got pregnant with Areum." 

“I swear it doesn't bother me," he rushes to say, “I know you and Jeonghan were nothing serious. I just wasn't sure." He shrugs, stroking your hair now he's moved his hand. 

"I'm used to my body. And I don't hate my body. It just hit me that it looks different from the last time someone else saw me naked.” 

"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met,” he smiles when you fluster a little, "but if you want to wait and stop, we can do.” 

"I don't want to stop.” You say much too quickly and make him laugh. 

"Then tell me how you want this to go baby.” 

"I've told you, whatever you want.” You move his hair off his forehead, "I just got in my own head for a second. I'm good now.” 

"You're sure?” 

"So sure." You peck his lips. 

He looks at you for a couple more seconds, just to double check and then goes back to his little kisses all over your breasts through your t-shirt. His hand moves slowly back under it so his finger tips can wander over your stomach and along your waist. 

Wonwoo glances up at you one last time and then lifts your t-shirt. You sit up so he can take it off easier and before you can even lay back down properly he kisses you again so you don't have any chance to feel self conscious. His tongue is messy as it explores your mouth and your fingers bury in his hair to hold him closer to you, losing yourself in the taste of him. 

His hand slips under your back, his tongue still dancing with yours, and unclasps your bra. Huh, turns out he is really good with his hands. Your bra is thrown on the floor with your t-shirt and his lips go travelling again. 

You watch as his eyes take you in every time his lips travel lower down your body. Teasing kisses are dotted over your tits and on your nipples, making you squirm when you think he's going to take one into his mouth. But he doesn't, he just shows you with his lips how much he loves you. 

He kisses down your stomach and stops when his lips meet your jeans. 

“You're perfect _____." His eyes run all over your body, marvelling at you beneath him. “I'm so lucky." 

He kneels between your legs and you prop yourself on your elbows. 

“Can I?" He plays with the button on your jeans. 

You don't answer with words, just lift your ass up so he can take them off. 

“Fuck." He stares down when he's thrown your jeans on the floor and spots just how wrecked your panties are. 

“What?" 

“You're fucking dripping." 

His fingers trace over your pantie clad pussy making you shiver. The touch is hardly there and yet drives you crazy. 

“So wet," he says in wonder, “and it's all mine isn't it ____? It's all for me?" He pulls the drenched cloth away from your aching pussy with his finger and lets them snap back, the sting making you startle. 

“Answer me _____," he presses two fingers onto your soaked mound and if you didn't have your underwear on, they'd be between your folds, exactly where you want them.  

“All yours," you nod desperately, “it's just for you." 

“Yeah?" He says darkly, “do you get this wet when you're up here using this?" He holds up the dildo. 

Where the fuck had he hidden that?! 

"I bet you're fucking dripping aren't you?” He presses the tip to you, "fucking yourself with this night after night. What do you think of, baby?” 

The pressure of the tip is exactly on your clit, it would just take the tiniest movement and you'd get some sweet relief. 

“Who," he presses a tiny bit harder, it doesn't hurt but fuck does it make you twitch from the added friction, “do you think of?" 

“You." You whisper. “Always you. Only you." 

“What a waste of fucking time." He turns the dildo so it presses harder onto your clit and you throw your head back in pleasure. “I could've been wrecking this pretty pussy every night." 

“Wonwoo, please just do something!" 

You're all for foreplay. You're all for teasing. But you've not had sex in five fucking years, surely he could show you some reprieve. 

"What's the rush? We've got all night.” He muses as he runs the dildo along your soaked underwear. 

"Wonwoo.” You give him a stern look, "I haven't had sex in fucking years. If you don't do something soon I might actually burst into tears. Just fuck me!” You whine. 

"I have always dreamt of you crying my name.” 

You look at him in horror. What a fucking tease. 

"Give me my dildo.” You demand and hold your hand out. 

"No.” He looks at your hand in disgust.

Right then. You're not above making him do something. 

"What are you doing?” He mumbles as you flail around, him not moving from between your legs making it difficult as you wrestle your panties off. 

"Look,” you lie back, two fingers running through your drenched folds, trying to not moan at the feeling, and hold them up to him, "do something. Or I'll finish myself off.” 

He hasn't heard a single word you've just said to him. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw your pussy and he nearly fainted when you ran your fucking fingers through it. You're moaning at him because you've not had sex in five years. He hasn't had sex since you moved in here. You cannot just tempt him like that. 

"Hey!” But he ignores you, grabs your hand and shoves your fingers in this mouth, licking and sucking your essence, his eyes closing in delight at the taste. 

Something takes over him and before you know it your knees are bent and near your chest and he's holding your ankles, the perfect view of your pussy. 

You expected a lot of things, maybe sloppy romance or tentative touches for your first time. You did not expect him to go with fucking mating press after him making you choke on your own dildo. Not that you're complaining. You once had a dream where you were literally sitting upside down in his lap whilst he ate you out. Luckily, dream you is clearly an acrobat. 

"Is this what you wanted?” He glares at you. 

"Yes,” you whisper, eyes on his dick. 

"So selfish,” he mutters, "hold your legs.” 

You do as he says straight away, your hands holding the backs of your thighs, your pussy dripping in front of him. 

"Didn't even get a chance to play with it a little bit,” 

"I'm not one of your computer games.” You glare between your legs. 

"Shut up,” he flicks your clit, "now,” he lines himself up with you, "ready? You're sure about this?” 

"So sure. Just do something Wonwoo.” You whine. 

He holds one of your ankles, just his tip against your hole makes your breath hitch. He spares you one last glance and then his tip pushes in, stretching you open deliciously and making you both moan at the feeling. 

He’s gentle, his hips rocking, gradually feeding you more and more of his dick and your walls feeling fuller than you probably ever have. The stretch burns just right and finally having him like this feels like you're exactly where you should be. It was always meant to be him, that's the reason it feels so fucking good already and he's not even fucking you yet. 

"Shit.” He hisses when he's fully bottomed out, "you feel incredible baby. So perfect, fuck it's like you were made just for me.” 

You don't answer, you're just basking in how fucking full you feel. 

"Can I move?" 

“Please," you manage to croak out. 

Wonwoo puts his weight on you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his back instead of holding your legs and rests his hands either side of your head.

"I love you.” 

"I love you t…..shit!" 

He doesn’t even let you fucking finish saying it before he pulls out just to the tip and slams back into you, deeper than you're certain anyone has ever gotten and makes you throw your head back on the pillow in pleasure. 

The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping and your drooling cunt being pounded by the man of your dreams. Your finger nails dimple his back with little crescent moons, not that he’ll need anything to remind him of tonight. This is everything he's been waiting for, it'll be etched onto his brain how fucking good it felt to finally feel you and be close to, until his dying breath. 

You feel like you can't breathe. His weight is on top of you, you're more or less folded in half and he’s fucking you so hard it's a wonder you've not smacked your head on the headboard. But you wouldn't have it any other way because if anything, the lack of breath only adds to how insane you feel right now. 

His dick is bullying its way into your warm willing walls, he's so deep you're certain he's crashing into your cervix and all you can do is hold onto him and enjoy the ride. 

“You feel so good," he groans when he hits a squishy spot inside you that drives you both wild. 

“You too," you whisper, trying to hold him even closer to you. 

“You're a fucking goddess baby. And you're mine, all fucking mine,” He moans when you clench around his perfect dick. 

"Y-you’re,” you try to get out but you're already so close to cumming, "m-mine too,” 

“I've always been yours _____, always. Fuck I'm already close, shit." 

“Me too," 

“Yeah? Gonna cum around my dick baby? Let me feel how good I'm making you feel?" 

“Hm-mm," 

He moves one of his hands from beside your head, his dick still slamming but when two fingers drift down to your clit and rubs tight little circles on your bundle of nerves, you completely lose it. 

“Fuckfuckfuck," you cry, your hole clenching repeatedly around him. 

Your whole pussy is quivering, his dick dragging against your walls deliciously and his magic fingers drawing perfect little patterns on your clit. What was it he said? I'm good with my hands? He really wasn't lying, his fingers somehow know exactly how to tease your clit just right. 

Just one more thrust and you cry out, your whole body vibrating beneath him and hole contracting around his dick again and again. You're not sure you've ever cum so hard in your life. The weight of Wonwoo on top of you and the way he looks like he's completely lost in the feeling of you cumming for him only drives you on even more. You can’t move but you don't need to, Wonwoo doesn't stop fucking you, making sure you ride your orgasm out for as long as possible, revelling in the way you feel around him. 

“Wonwoo," you shakily breath out, “cum. Please cum inside me, fill me up, I," you sigh, still shaking from the end of your orgasm, “wanna feel you cum in me." 

He lets out a deep, guttural growl, your words being the tipping point for him as his body stills on top of you for a second before he keeps fucking into you. Fucking his cum into you. 

"Fuck I love you _____,” his hips keep sloppily fucking into you and he moans when you clench a little, "I love you so fucking much.” 

"I love you too,” you say softly, your hands gliding up his back to hold him close to you so you can whisper in his ear, "so, so much Wonwoo.” 

His hips gradually slow, your fingers deciding to draw patterns along his sweaty, marked back, hoping to soothe his heavy breathing and hold him as close to you as possible. 

Wonwoo raises his head to look at you, his cheeks flushed and pupils blown out, but he looks at you with so much fondness and so much love you feel like doing a little happy cry. 

“Are you ok?" He asks quietly, helping you move your legs and smiling as your waggle your feet now they're free. 

“I am," you hold his cheeks, “I love you." 

The kiss on his lips is sweet and filled with promise. 

“I love you too. Can I," he moves back, taking his softening dick out of you. 

His eyes widen as he sits back, watching his cum drip out of you. 

“Fuck," he whispers in awe as his fingers move to pick up a little bit of it and stuff it back in. 

“Don't giggle," you chastise him when he chuckles a little at your thighs twitching, “I'm sensitive." 

“I fucked you that well?" He asks, keeping his eyes on your cum filled hole as he moves to lie next to you. 

“I don't think I've ever felt like that…..don't look so smug!" You tap his chest when he looks more than pleased with himself. 

“What?!" He pulls you into his chest, your leg hooking over his hip, “not everyday you hear that from the woman you love." 

“That makes me feel all tingly," you murmur into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you. 

“What does? That I luuurve you," he squeezes you and then squeezes you again just to hear the laugh he loves so much. 

"Yes.” You giggle. 

He holds you, kissing your head occasionally, both of you basking in the afterglow of what's just gone down. 

“_____?" 

“Hmm?" 

“Just so you know. I'm all in. I want whatever you want, I just want to be with you." 

“Me too." 

You think for a minute, wondering how to bring up the last thing that's been worrying you. You only thought about it on the drive home but now all your horniness has been satiated, you need to ask him. 

“This doesn't change anything does it? I mean with Ari and the guys? Like you're all still…..I don't know how to put it. Equal? Like you don't think you trump Mingyu because…..” 

"Never.” He cuts you off, "what we have works. She's our daughter, she always will be. I don't feel any different in terms of our family _____. The only thing that changes is my relationship with you. They're my best friends, we all love her the same and you're my girlfriend.” 

"I just wanted to check,” you kiss his chest and he holds you a little closer. 

"I'm a bit worried about whether she'll think differently of me.” He murmurs. 

“Ari?" You prop yourself on your elbow. 

“Hm," he nods, “what if when we finally tell her, she decides she doesn't want me near you? She doesn't want her mommy to have a boyfriend or for that boyfriend to be me." 

“Are you joking?" 

“No! Like what if she hates me for holding your hand or something. That little girl dotes on you, she's never seen you with a man. What if she decides to wage war on me!" 

"You're talking about the same little girl that pretended to operate on her dolls with you when she was three because she said she wants to be a doctor like her daddy woowoo…” 

"But…" 

“The same little girl who doesn't let anyone do her hair other than you. I did it the other day when I was upset with you and she spent the entire drive home after school telling me how she felt like her hair was falling out all day because you hadn't done it." 

“That's not the…." 

“The same little girl," you sit up and cross your legs, him following and holding your hands, “who has spent her whole life being treated like a princess by three of the best men this world has to offer. She could never hate any of you. And we don't need to tell her quickly, we can take our time. Figure out how we work before we do anything else." 

“So you don't think she'll stop reading with me on Sundays?" 

“I think the only time she'll do that is when you both finally run out of books. She loves you Wonwoo," you stroke his cheek, “so do the guys. But none of them love you as much as me.” You smile proudly, kissing him softly. 

"It's gonna feel like we're teenagers sneaking around,” he pulls you to sit between his legs with his back against the headboard. 

"Yeah and there's spies on both floors. Areum's up here and the guys are near you downstairs.” 

"Guess we'll have to get really good at shower sex,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his fingers tracing hearts on your skin. 

"Or maybe,” you look back at him, "car sex.” 

"Absolutely not. Mingyu told me a horror story about a handbrake and rectal bleeding once. That's not happening.” 

"He disgusts me sometimes.” 

"Can I stay in here tonight?” He whispers in your ear before kissing just beneath it. 

"Oh now I've got you, I'm not letting you go.” 

“OH LOOK JEONGHAN WE ARE HOME," 

“YES, IT IS NICE TO BE HOME." 

They have to be the most ridiculous pair of people you've ever met in your life. 

“WE ARE WALKING INTO THE APARTMENT NOW." 

“IF THERE WAS SOMETHING WE SHOULDN'T BE SEEING I HOPE IT IS FINISHED NOW." 

“What the fuck are you two doing?" Wonwoo asks as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, glancing at you on the sofa. 

"Oh.” They both come to a stop. "We thought you'd be doing something disgusting.” 

"No, we've decided to just be friends.” 

"WHAT?!” 

You fall back on the sofa laughing, Wonwoo watching you happily. 

"I hope she's joking.” Mingyu points at you. 

"She definitely wasn't calling me her friend half an hour ago.” 

"Wonwoo!” You scold, sitting up again. 

"Oh my ears!” Jeonghan walks to the kitchen, covering his ears. 

“When’s Areum back?" Mingyu throws himself on the sofa next to you before Wonwoo can sit down, sending him a middle finger. 

“In about twenty minutes. Hey Jeonghan," you holler back to the kitchen, “did you have anything planned for dinner? Because your mom promised Ari pizza if she got dressed when they told her to." 

“Bribing kids," Mingyu shakes his head in disgust. 

“Yeah because pretending to cry to get them to do what you want is so much better. Move.” Wonwoo stands in front of you and Mingyu. 

You glance at Mingyu and then turn back to Wonwoo, pretending to not know what's annoying him. 

"Me?” Mingyu points to himself, pretending to be a little shocked. 

"Obviously.” 

"Why? Do you want to sit with your girlfriend?” 

"I'll sit on you.” 

"Is that a promise?” He smirks at Wonwoo. 

You stand up, shove Wonwoo down onto the sofa and then throw yourself on his lap. Sure he groans at the shock but you'll be damned if Mingyu upsets your boyfriend. 

"Oh for god's sake. There's two other sofas!” 

"Then go sit on one,” you flick Mingyu’s forehead as Wonwoo's arms wrap around you. 

"Wait, hold on!” Jeonghan rushes over to you all and sits on Mingyu. 

"Dude there's other places to sit.” 

"We need a family meeting.” 

"The head of the family isn't here.” You point out. 

This must look ridiculous, you and Jeonghan sitting on Wonwoo and Mingyu's laps facing each other. 

"She's right.” Mingyu picks a rogue thread off Jeonghan's top. 

"I think we need to get this sorted before she's home.” 

Your stomach drops a bit and Wonwoo takes his arms from around you, settling on a gentle hand on the small of your back. 

"Jeonghan…" you try to start but he holds a hand up to stop you. 

“When you trusted us with Areum, we all took care of her. You two," he glances at Mingyu and Wonwoo, “didn't hesitate to help me. To help _____. I know we've asked you a few times over the years whether you still wanted to be in this and you've always shot us down saying it was what you wanted. But I just want you to know, that it meant a lot. It means a lot. You care for Areum like she's your own, she's surrounded by love and not just because of me and _____ but because of you two, even your parents treat her like a family member." 

You all stare at him, the fact he's sitting on Mingyu’s lap not even looking entertaining anymore.

“Our stupidity brought Areum into this world." He smiles a little at you. “But I'm so pleased we were stupid back then. She is the most precious thing to me and I thank the universe everyday that you trusted me enough that day when you needed help. You're the best mom in the world _____,” 

You sniffle, Wonwoo rubbing the small of your back. 

"And I know you. It probably won't be better than anyone soon,” he smiles down at Wonwoo, "but I know you and know you'll be worrying somewhere in there,” he taps the side of your head with his finger and makes you laugh, "that I'll see you differently or I'll be annoyed or angry or something but I want you both to know, I have been waiting for you both to realise you loved each other. And I still feel the same as I did before yesterday. I love that you're part of Ari’s life Wonwoo, I love that there's little quirks in her personality that come from you. That come from all four of us. She's a little mini version of all of us and I love that. It may not be normal to everyone but it's normal to us. So. You didn't need my blessing or anything. But just know that I love you both and I know me and Mingyu will joke around about it but don't feel the need to not be yourselves. Because I can't wait to see what you become." 

“Jeonghan," you sniffle and pull him into a hug, Wonwoo and Mingyu trying to steady you both what with you both still being on their laps. 

“I would threaten you and tell you not to hurt her," he wipes a tear from his cheek when he pulls back, “but I know you won't." 

“I won’t," Wonwoo says softly, his arms finally wrapping around you again. 

“We er," you wipe your eyes, “we said last night that we'd wait a while to tell Areum. Figure how we’re us before we do it." 

“Good plan." Mingyu smiles, squeezing Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“Right. Enough emotions," Jeonghan slaps his legs and stands up, “the boss’ll be back soon. Mingyu you said you needed to edit something. If you do it now then we can all eat the pizza together." 

“Oh right yeah," he rushes to stand up. “I'm pleased for you," he ruffles Wonwoo’s hair and kisses the side of your head before he jogs up the stairs. 

“I've got really great sister husbands." Wonwoo beams at you as you laugh at him. 

“Would it not be brother husbands?" You ponder, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Whatever it is, they're really great." 

“So great." You smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Happy?" 

“More than I've ever been." 

"MOOOOMMMMMY I’M HOOOME!” 

"Shit!” Wonwoo basically throws you off him before Areum and three sets of grandparents appear in the living room. 

“I've been reading a new book." 

“Don't eat with your mouth full of food," Mingyu says and Ari very dramatically stops talking to finish what she's eating, all four of you waiting to hear what she's going to say. 

If this is another Agatha Christie then you're going to really need a stern word with Wonwoo. You're all for them reading together. She won't even need to learn to read at school because Wonwoo’s been reading her full novels since she was a baby. She just sort of knew how to read and started reading full on tomes. But she's going to be reading Great Expectations before she's even in double digits, you're going to run out of books at this rate. 

“Finished.” She shows Mingyu her mouth and he recoils in disgust. 

"What's your book honey?” 

"Cinderalla,” 

"An age appropriate book?” You mumble, smiling sarcastically at Wonwoo’s glare he sends your way. 

"Did you like it?” 

"It’s a bit boring. I don't know why she needed a prince, she could've just locked her step mommy away and stolen all the jewellery.” 

The three of you turn to Wonwoo. 

"What?” He says defensively, taking a bite of his pizza. "That's not an Agatha Christie.” 

"It is,” Areum corrects him happily. “And Gyugyu said you shouldn't talk with your mouth full of food." 

He stops chewing for a second in shock, the three of you trying not to laugh at him being told off by a four year old. 

"What about Cinderalla Ari?” Wonwoo ignores all your very pointed looks.

"Well the prince,” she wriggles in her seat to get comfy and tell you all about her book, "is really nice to Cinderella even though she looks a bit boring at the start  he does all of these nice things for her like finds her shoe and then she's really happy and he keeps being nice to her and then they live happily ever after.”

“Did you enjoy it then?" Hoping this new found interest in fairy tales might draw her away from Poirot. 

“Not really. But I was thinking." 

Oh god.

“What about honeybun?" Jeonghan asks, giving her another slice of pizza. 

“Well Woowoo does really nice things for mommy and he's always finding things she's lost and even when she looks like a scarecrow when she's just woken up and he's grumpy because he's woken up late he still smiles when he sees mommy and you and Gyugyu don't do that and so I think Woowoo probably makes mommy as happy as the prince because he does nice things for her and makes her happy and I think" she takes a deep breath from her rambling, “that they will live happily ever after." 

All four of you gawk at her, not that she cares, she's too busy taking the pepperoni off Mingyu's pizza and adding it to hers. 

“Ari," Jeonghan says softly, deciding to ask this himself because he can see you and Wonwoo are a bit shocked, “would you be ok with that though? If they lived happily ever after like the prince and Cinderella?" 

“Mmmmmmmm," she taps her chin, thinking and leaving a greasy finger mark from the pizza, “I think so. Mommy smiles a lot when Woowoo is here." She whispers to Jeonghan like she's telling him her darkest secrets. "And I like it best when mommy smiles because she's my best friend.” 

Fuck a duck. 

"Why are you crying mommy? Did Gyugyu do something?” She frowns very seriously at Mingyu, her little arms folded. 

"No honey,” you wipe your eyes, "and I'm not sad. I'm just very proud of you.” 

"Because I read Cinderella?” 

"Well yes, but more because you're you.” 

"Who else would I be?” Her brows knit together as she picks her pizza up. 

"No-one honey,” you chuckle, the other three joining in with you as you watch her tuck into her pizza with much too much pepperoni, not caring that she's just taken a massive weight of all your minds. 

"Turns out it was just you two that didn't know.” Mingyu mutters, but soon stops looking so smug when you kick him in the leg. 

"God I wish they wouldn't just roam around,” Wonwoo dodges a six year old dressed as a sheep. 

"I don't see why they need to do this at all. Why not just put on a normal talent show?” Jeonghan glares at some glitter that's landed on his new jacket. 

"Because it's Christmas.” You say through gritted teeth, pulling Wonwoo out of the line of fire of a three foot candy cane who was running past, “and so everyone needed to dress for the festive season." 

“What’s festive about a sheep?" Wonwoo demands. 

“I don't fucking know." You grumble. 

“_____!" 

No. No no no. You cannot deal with the mothers of the parent teacher association. 

“Hi!" You turn around to them, your biggest and yet fakest smile plastered on your face. 

“I see you've all come," the three women nod at the men flanking you. 

“We wouldn't miss it," Mingyu beams proudly. 

“We just wanted to ask, we're putting on a dance for valentine's day." 

“Isn't that months away?" Wonwoo asks. 

“Which one are you?" One of them asks condescendingly. 

“Jeon Wonwoo, senior cardiothoracic surgeon at Asan Medical Centre," he holds his hand out and you try not to smile. 

“O-oh," they all look a little taken aback as they shake his hand. Clearly they weren't banking on that. You swear they think you're in a quadruple or whatever it would be. It really isn't that hard to grasp that four people can bring up a child and it doesn't mean they're in a cult or a weird joint marriage. 

“Mommy," Areum rushes up to you, “I've forgotten my tinsel crown." 

“I've got a spare!" Mingyu pulls some tinsel out from his pocket. 

“Thank you Gyugyu!" And she runs off again. 

“We just wanted to know if you remembered the bake stall for after the talent show," 

You hate how they look at you. They think because your home set up isn't normal that it must mean you're all idiots that don't know what day of the week it is, let alone able to function like a regular family. 

“I've made brownies, cupcakes and a pretty impressive bunt cake, if I do say so myself," Jeonghan cockily high fives Mingyu. 

“Oh. I see." 

Fuck do you feel smug. 

"And we needed a donation for the……..” 

"I made a sizeable donation on behalf of all of us two days ago. The principal actually called me herself saying how grateful she was.” You say in a sickly sweet voice. 

"Really?” They all falter, looking between each other. 

"Moooommmmy,” Areum comes rushing over again, "sorry I just need to speak to my mommy.” She says to wicked witches of the pta, "Mommy. Could you please remind Woowoo that he said we were going to the bookstore on the way home, I'm not talking to him because he ate my last chocolate Santa." 

“I'll tell him." You nod very seriously. 

“Bye!" She waves at the pta mothers and runs off again. 

“I wish mine would read willingly," one of the kinder of the mothers mumbles, much to disgust of her friends. 

“You were saying something about valentine's day?" 

“What?" 

“Isn't that why you came over? I presume you had a reason and it wasn't just because you like to belittle my girlfriend." 

Ooooooh, now he's done it. All three of them bristle at Wonwoo’s comment but you can tell they're still trying to keep that fake polite exterior. You're going to give him such good head when you get home. 

“Not at all, well all love seeing you all!" 

Just as they finish that lie, a loud crash rings around the room and a teacher starts shouting at two boys. 

“Oh," Mingyu frowns, “isn't that two of yours?" He points at two of the pta women. 

“It's not Areum is it?" Jeonghan asks knowing full well it isn't. 

“No, she's sitting with her friend over there, helping her plait her hair.” Wonwoo points out. 

Satisfaction. In it's purest form, seeing your perfectly behaved, if not overly opinionated daughter, showing just how well she's been brought up by her "not normal” family. And then their son’s acting like little shits and being given detention at six years old. Perfection. 

"Valentine's day?” You ask again. 

"Oh right,” they drag their eyes away from the chaos, a look a evil on their faces again, “We wondered if we should have a daddy/ daughter dance or if it would upset Areum.” 

"Why would it upset Areum?” You demand before the other three can ask anything. 

"Well,” the leader smirks, "we wouldn't want to cause trouble.” 

These fucking people. What gives them the right? 

"Areum has three dads who love her. Who are here, unlike your children’s fathers. You might not get our family but you are no better than us because your children have just a mother and a father. Families come in all shapes and sizes and she’s loved and cared for and that's all that matters. If you don't like that, then I feel sorry for you. But do not go out of your way to insult the three men that have helped make that girl what she is today." 

They stare at you before scuttling off back under whatever hole they wriggled out of. 

"That,” Wonwoo pulls you to him, "was fucking hot.” He whispers in your ear. 

"I feel like a princess when a knight defends her honour,” Mingyu smiles. 

"Hey _____,” someone grabs your arm, "I couldn't have put it better myself, they did the same to me and my wife. Well done.” One of the mother’s from Ari’s class says proudly before she needs to rush off to find their daughter. 

“Seats please!" Someone shouts and cuts off any proud gloating you were about the embark on. 

“We should've bought a hip flask," Jeonghan complains, leading the way. 

“Is that a goat? What does a goat have to do with Christmas?" Wonwoo complains, glaring at the other children as you drag him to his seat, Mingyu following behind you both. 

"Maybe it's the goat of Christmas past.” You and Wonwoo stop and turn to Mingyu, a look of disgust on your faces. 

"What?! That was a good one!” 

"Come on, I don't want to miss Ari,” you sigh. 

You take your seats, Mingyu next to an old lady who flusters when he says hello to her, Jeonghan next to him and you inbetween Jeonghan and Wonwoo. All of you waiting for the torture that's to come. 

Children come and go, singing (or trying to), dancing (and falling), one even did a performance of her impersonating her fish. Five minutes of her just opening and closing her mouth dressed like what seemed to be a trout before someone finally put her, and Wonwoo, out of their misery. 

But finally it's Areum's turn. She's performing Jingle Bells with her friend, dressed entirely in tinsel for reasons only known to them, and they even have little sets of bells to accompany their singing. 

The old lady on the piano starts and they start singing. No nerves, no tantrums, just a happy little girl singing the song her and friend had learnt two weeks ago in your kitchen when Jeonghan said he'd help them. 

For all of Wonwoo’s complaining about the calibre of performances and declaring that most of the children should be in a zoo, you watch him watching Areum and her friend with nothing but pride in his eyes. They're horrendously out of tune and the bells are definitely not in time with the piano or the singing. But to Wonwoo? He'd probably declare it a Grammy worthy performance. 

Their song ends and people politely clap them like they do for every perfomance but this round of applause is a little different. Because this time three men stand and give a standing ovation to the two little girls on the stage, hooting and hollering making sure that both girls know how well they've performed. 

It's as you join them, sour faced parents around you who glare out of the corner of their eyes, and cheer your little girl, that you realise just how lucky you both are that you realised how bad things were that day when baby Areum wouldn't stop crying. 

Things got better. Things got a whole lot better. And it isn't just down to Mingyu, Wonwoo and Jeonghan. It's down to the fact that you knew you had people to help you. That even when you felt alone in the world, you still deep down knew that you weren't. 

As the cheering ends and you sit back down, Wonwoo turns to you, his hand taking yours. 

“I love you." 

“I love you too." 

“Marry me." 

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