An apple a day keeps the boredom away! ฅᨐฅ

Oh, you’re about to be devastatingly mad. You want to throw the trash bin across the pantry, curse at the manager, maybe even consider resigning on the spot.

But did you?

Obviously not. Moment of weakness, as we speak.

Two hours earlier.

…

Work-life balance? Don’t know her.

Your life had been mundane as usual, and honestly, you didn’t mind that. You just wished your corporate life would stop trying to actively ruin it. Ever since the new CEO took over the man who stepped in after his father—you weren’t sure what to think of him. What you did know was that the company had been overworking its employees nonstop.

You wouldn’t even complain if they at least upgraded the cafeteria menu.

The new caterer didn’t seem to care about repeating the same dishes over and over to the point that one of your coworkers ended up with a stomachache. Not to mention the coffee drip machine sucked. Like, genuinely sucked. Thousand-dime company, yet they never bothered to upgrade the damn coffee machine.

No one wanted to drink that brown liquid. You’d rather dehydrate than willingly swallow it.

Since then, most people have started going out for lunch. Some just kept working through it, to the point of developing gastritis or borderline malnutrition.

But not you.

You refused to starve yourself.

Your mother always said: never be stingy with money when it comes to food. Money comes and goes.

That’s what she said.

Nothing beats a home-cooked meal. You’d choose that over takeout any day, unless you were really busy.

Just in time, it was finally lunch.

You had been anticipating this. Your lunch. Your heavenly five-star meal that you poured your whole heart into this morning.

Heck, you didn’t even eat breakfast. Just that cheap black coffee from the café downstairs.

Today’s packed treasure? A hamburg steak with a molten cheese filling in the center, paired with soft, fluffy rice.

You didn’t forget the fiber either broccoli and roasted potatoes to balance the meal. You swore nothing beat homemade meat: freshly ground beef, breadcrumbs, and spices that actually made sense together.

You’d like to think you’re very good at pounding meat.

The mental image of that juicy steak, gravy cascading over the top and soaking into white rice, made your stomach growl loudly.

God, you couldn’t wait to devour the whole thing. It was your self-reward after hours of sitting in your office chair to the point your ass might permanently imprint into it.

Sure, you couldn’t eat it fresh off the stove but at least the microwave here was more competent than the company’s infrastructure.

With a small, happy hum, you walked to the pantry fridge.

Around this time, the shelves were usually emptier. Only one or two transparent containers remained, so spotting yours should’ve been easy, the pink lunchbox. Your trusted Tupperware.

Of course your food deserved the best of the best. Duh.

You picked it up.

And immediately, something felt… off.

There was a sauce stain around the lid. And now that you thought about it somehow felt lighter than it had that morning.

You frowned but didn’t overthink it.

Until you opened it.

Your steak was…

Gone.

Like, all gone.

Your thick, juicy steak. Your fluffy rice. Your vegetables drowned lovingly in gravy.

Vanished.

Your stomach growled again as you blinked down at the empty container.

You weren’t just hungry. You were starving.

A small, devastated wail almost slipped out of you.

How could someone steal another person’s lunch? That was straight-up cruel. There was absolutely no excuse to think someone needed it more than you.

If anything, you needed it the most.

Because you deserved it. After all the prep. The early alarm. The effort.

You inhaled slowly, trying to be rational.

It would be wildly unprofessional for someone from the PR team to crash out over stolen food. So fine. You’d handle this professionally.

You pulled out your phone and speed-dialed HR. It was important to keep essential contacts ready. That’s what Seungkwan always said.

The call connected.

“Hello, this is Hyunsuk from Human Resources,” a flat voice answered. “How may I help you?”

“Hi, Hyunsuk. I’d like to report a theft.”

“Okay,” he replied. “What was stolen?”

You didn’t hesitate. “My lunch.”

There was a brief pause.

“Was it during company hours or on company property?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot compensate for your loss.”

You frowned. “I don’t want compensation, Hyunsuk.”

You swore you could hear him sigh. “An employee’s lunch is considered personal property.”

“Yes, but isn’t it concerning that theft is happening on company grounds?”

“We have cases like this happen very often,” he said. “The company is not responsible for them.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“If you have anything else to report, please send an email,” he cut in. “My lunch break is starting.”

The line went dead.

Hyunsuk hung up.

You stared at your phone in disbelief. “…But my hamburg steak…”

Your eye twitched.

He just said it happens often.

Then do something about it?

“Whatever. Nobody even likes Hyunsuk.”

In fact, you weren’t sure he liked anyone at all.

With nothing else you could do, you begrudgingly poured yourself a lukewarm cup of coffee and returned to your desk with empty stomach, extra caffeine, and a growing vendetta.

The next day, you decided to let it go.

Okay, maybe you were being too forgiving. But hey, you were just hangry yesterday. Surely it was a one-time thing.

Still, the way Hyunsuk said these “theft incidents” happened often baffled you. As if they were normalizing it.

Like, what’s even the function of all those security cameras around the office?

If they can draw a hard line on “no inappropriate office activities,” then surely they can give justice to your stolen lunch too.

Crazy.

The last time people went into the pantry, they literally saw used condoms in the bin. Goodness gracious, as if the toilet didn’t exist. You’d rather not walk past and hear… unwanted noises either.

You did consider writing a company-wide email and CC’ing everyone. After all, who the hell knew who ate your lunch?

You refused to take this as egg-ceptance.

…Maybe not yet.

Despite yesterday’s tragedy, you still brought your lunch today.

After all, you made mapo tofu. And you were not backing down.

How did you make it again?

Oh, right.

Sichuan peppercorns.

While you weren’t a huge fan of overly spicy food, the spice of life played an important role in cooking. You could never forget the nose-numbing aroma of roasted Sichuan pepper. The thick red oil from the fermented bean paste. The firm, bouncy cubes of tofu holding heat so intense it transcended taste buds.

The Mapo Tofu.

You paired it with plain white rice but nothing could overpower the fragrance of chili oil and peppercorns.

It reminded you of that business trip, when Minghao introduced you to mala hotpot and a whole new universe of Chinese spices. You even brought souvenirs back, mostly seasonings to experiment with.

Bless him and his encyclopedic knowledge.

But today’s version?

Different.

Just in case, you doubled the heat. Twice the ground peppercorn. Extra chili flakes. A spice level too powerful for the mortal tongue.

Right before sealing the lid, you sprinkled a little more pepper.

If anyone dared to open your lunch, a red powdery explosion would await them.

Maybe you did this on purpose.

If they stole it again, you hoped their ass would explode in the toilet like that scene in White Chicks.

Serves them right.

…

Lunch break came.

You approached the fridge like a soldier returning to war.

You prayed the thief hadn’t struck again.

But the moment you picked up your Tupperware, the weight or lack of it—felt ominous.

You opened it and found it was already gone.

Again.

Empty.

But how? Why?

First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, who the hell devoured that hellishly spicy mapo tofu? Surely their stomach would declare war soon.

And third…

What. The. Fuck.

Who was this food-crazed glutton?

“…Wait,” you muttered to yourself. “If someone ate my super spicy Sichuan mapo tofu, their lips should be bright red right now!”

You didn’t hesitate.

Within the remaining minutes of your break, you scanned the entire floor like a detective on a mission.

Red lips. Red lips. Red lips.

But to no avail.

Your pepper-kissed burglar was nowhere to be found.

Much to your annoyance, there were simply too many employees in this company. Half of them wore bold red lipstick anyway. You couldn’t tell if it was spice-induced inflammation or just cosmetics.

You didn’t care.

You just wanted the rat-stealing-food burglar.

It was almost time to go home but unfortunately, a major project was in peak season. Several departments had to stay for overtime.

Including yours.

No one liked overtime.

Sure, you got paid. But was it worth it?

Maybe you should start your own business one day. Open a brunch café. Lower stress. Maybe finally use your bachelor’s degree properly.

You sighed.

Seokmin had given you a small box of macarons earlier after seeing the fury on your face but you hadn’t eaten them. You refused to fill your stomach with pity sweets. Too busy drowning in despair and caffeine as you typed aggressively at your keyboard.

The loud clacking and flipping of papers earned you a few glances.

You didn’t care.

Your food had been stolen. Twice.

Why should you care about their peace when they didn’t care about yours?

Fair is fair.

Eventually, you brushed it off and went downstairs to the convenience store before returning to the office. Instant noodles and sausages.

How classic.

You weren’t alone though.

There was a guy sitting a few seats away. Still in work clothes. His blazer hung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled just above his elbows. He was eating two cups of buldak ramen, the spicy kind.

It reminded you of your Sichuan mapo tofu.

You felt like you were mourning a loss.

And for some reason, you caught a faint scent of pepper clinging to his suit.

Maybe you were imagining it.

People had been avoiding you all day anyway, some even spraying air freshener after you walked past.

Still, you kept glancing at him.

Was it common for two people to coincidentally crave spicy food on the same day? Watching him slurp down two buldak ramens made your stomach twist.

Noticing your stare, he paused.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to you. “You got some staring problem?”

His voice was deep and calm but the tone carried an edge.

“What?”

“I said,” he continued, face still stoic, cheeks slightly puffed with noodles, “got some staring problem? I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude?”

You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Now it was your turn to feel offended.

You almost apologized earlier. Good thing that you didn’t.

This guy is insufferable.

Judging by his face alone, of course he was. The only good thing about him was his face. And unfortunately, the bad thing was also his face. What a waste of something that pretty.

You couldn’t help but hope there was at least one imperfect thing about him. Maybe his personality was rotten. Maybe he snored. Maybe—

Whatever.

You just hoped his dick is ugly. Then again, no dick is ever pretty anyway.

“Rude…” you muttered under your breath before returning to your convenience-store “meal.”

After a while, you finished dinner and headed back into the company building, americano in hand.

And much to your surprise—

The guy was there too.

Walking in the same direction.

For a second, you almost thought he was a creep.

And then came the real disappointment.

He fucking worked here.

You nearly lost it on the spot.

Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? People in this company were either painfully dull, aggressively gray, or casually insufferable. If you were lucky, you’d meet someone with a decent moral compass.

Rare species.

Standing in the same elevator as him didn’t help. You had a talent for meeting the worst people at the worst possible times.

What’s new?

Still, you caught it again.

That scent. It was faint now but familiar.

The lingering peppery aroma. The same one from your stolen mapo tofu.

Okay. Maybe you were slightly unhinged, grieving over lost lunch.

But still.

You sniffed subtly and shifted a little closer.

The man frowned at you like you’d just malfunctioned.

“Hypothetically speaking,” he said flatly, “if you want to fuck me, you could just say so.”

You blinked.

Excuse me?

Oh, you would absolutely fuck him up alright but that was a different story.

He was insufferable. And irritating him suddenly felt therapeutic.

You scoffed and stepped back into your space.

“You have your entire life to be a jerk,” you shot back. “Why not take today off?”

Now it was his turn to look at you properly.

“I don’t know what your problem is,” he replied calmly, “but I’m guessing it’s difficult to pronounce.”

Oh, he was annoying.

“If I wanted to hear from an asshole,” you said sweetly, “I’d fart.”

There was a brief silence.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

He genuinely looked like he was calculating whether you were capable of doing it.

The elevator doors slid open.

You stepped out first.

“See you not later, Mr. Hodenkobold.”

He looked like he was about to fire back but the doors closed before he could.

For once, it felt nice to rage-bait someone else.

Especially after your lunch had been stolen.

So you decided.

For the next two days, you were going to catch the rat-stealing-lunch and end this once and for all.

For a brief, dangerous second, you did consider rat poison. But the thought of going to jail?

Absolutely not.

As tempting as it was, you couldn’t risk it. You had a baby to feed back at your studio apartment.

Your cat.

While you were suffering over your stolen gourmet lunches, your cat—Wonton, the name you lovingly gave her, was happily eating premium-grade cat food.

It was unfair. Really.

So you came up with a plan.

This time, you packed a cute bento-themed lunchbox: omelet nori rolls and rice balls.

Except—

They were made of wax.

Yes. Wax.

You followed a YouTube tutorial. Styrofoam base. Acrylic paint for texture. You even added gloss to make it look freshly glazed. Turns out, you had raw talent for this.

It looked absolutely gouda. An egg-cellent fake lunchbox.

You were certain the food stealer was souper hungry right now.

Okay. You really needed to stop hanging out with Seokmin and his endless food puns.

You even added a faint pepper scent to make it smell convincing. Surely no one was dumb enough to fall for fake food.

…Right?

But if they did? It would be hilarious.

…

When you returned at lunch break and opened the lid, you froze.

“….”

There was one—no, two chunks missing.

A bite taken out of the fake omelet.

You blinked.

What kind of unhinged human gluttony was this?

You couldn’t brie-lieve it.

They actually ate the wax.

The next day, you switched tactics.

You made curry fish head, rich curry paste blooming in oil, coconut milk thickening the broth just the way you liked it. You had to thank Minghao again for that Southeast Asia culinary expedition.

This time?

Untouched.

The container was slightly shifted, the lid smudged but the food remained intact.

You assumed the thief wasn’t a seafood fan.

Or maybe allergic.

That theory lasted exactly twenty-four hours.

The following day, you packed creamy rosé pasta with shrimp and clams. Garnished with basil. Sprinkled with oregano. And, of course, little octopus-shaped cocktail sausages.

For insurance, you taped a note to the lid:

you do not touch. i will find you. bon appetit, mf.

You stuck it firmly on top of your Tupperware.

Surely this would intimidate them.

Surely.

...

You returned during lunch break and immediately noticed the note had slipped to the floor.

You picked it up.

Your handwriting stared back at you.

And underneath—

you. do not touch. i will find you. bon appetit, mf. "𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘"

You stared at it in disbelief at the bold, neat handwriting.

Slowly, you lifted the paper then tore it to shreds with your teeth, pure rage simmering in your veins.

The audacity must be on clearance sale.

When you opened the container, your jaw tightened.

Your pasta? Gone. The noodles devoured and the octopus-shaped sausages? Missing.

The shrimp and clams?

Only to be left behind.

Oh.

So they weren’t allergic.

They were picky.

You clenched your jaw, saliva dampening the dry paper as it scraped against your tongue. “Wow. Tasty, indeed,” you mocked under your breath.

This needs to end now.

You honestly need to lock the fuck in this time, to catch that rat-stealing-food burglar. You just hoped they stepped on dog shit today, that both their pillows smelled horrible, and that they’d have the worst fucking nightmare the moment they woke up.

“Hey,” Seokmin approached you with Soonyoung beside him. “Rice to meet you today.” He greeted cheerily, but the moment he noticed your moody face, he faltered. “Okay… berry sorry for that.”

Both of them leaned against the railings beside you. Soonyoung offered you a lollipop. You needed that so much instead of lighting up tobacco, which you’d quit back in your college days.

“Is it about the lunch stealing again?” he asked. “I carrot believe that person’s kept the stealing streak going this far.”

You gave him a look. It seemed like Seokmin had rubbed off on him with all those food puns.

He raised his hands in surrender. “In my defense, I’m feeling saucy today. It’s alright, we can grab dinner after this—my treat, of course.” Soonyoung tried to reassure you, knowing how furious you get when your food gets stolen.

“Yeah, let’s meat up for dinner!” Seokmin chimed in, making you roll your eyes.

Wait.

That’s it.

You have to meet that fucking rat-stealer face to face.

...

This time, you made your well-crafted most scrumptious, katsu sandwich. Cut in halves, three thick slices stacked neatly inside your Chiikawa-pattern container. Minghao had given it to you after his business trip to Japan, and you gladly accepted it since the cartoon was trending everywhere lately.

You liked the yellow rabbit character. It reminded you of yourself because he’s a big back.

Just like you.

Anyway.

You were not about to let your lunch get taken away this time.

And this time, you were going to protect it like it mattered more than your own life. For the sake of your health insurance, you tried not to pounce on that food burglar.

You were not about to let your money, sweat, and time go to waste again.

Now that you think about it, you probably should’ve shown up ten minutes earlier before catching the culprit.

Standing from your seat, you headed toward the office pantry and peeked inside.

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Someone was hunching over the fridge, hand hovering over the transparent containers then toward your Chiikawa lunchbox.

“Hm, this is new…” he murmured. “…and tacky.”

Excuse me?

You weren’t about to back down when someone literally mocked your precious lunchbox pattern. So what? You liked when your mom packed your food in a Hello Kitty container with those little fruit picks shaped like cat ears.

You cleared your throat to catch his attention. He jumped slightly, straightening up.

“Isn’t it too early for lunch break?” you asked, slowly approaching him, arms crossed.

He blinked.

It was the same four-eyed dude who inhaled two fire spicy bowl ramens the other day. You almost scoffed.

“You again,” he echoed. “And who are you?”

He still stood there, relaxed like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.

“Me?” you repeated nonchalantly. “I’m not that important. Rather, why don’t we start with you, buddy.”

He looked like he didn’t want to continue this conversation. Probably hoping you’d leave.

Fine.

You indulged him for a moment and gave your name. When he finally replied, you learned his.

Jeon fucking Wonwoo.

You plastered a smile on your face. He turned away, ignoring you. The two of you just stood there for a few tense seconds.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“How’s that coffee?” you shot back, blatantly ignoring his question.

Wonwoo frowned, more like bristled at it, as if offended.

“Why would I drink that slimy brown liquid?” he said. “Don’t tell me… you drink that thing?”

“It’s not that bad,” you shrugged.

(It absolutely sucks.)

He chuckled, clearly mocking you. “You sound like you hate yourself.”

Oh, he’s so cocky.

Three days. Three days you’ve suffered because of this stealing bitch.

“Actually…” you stepped closer. “What did you do these past few days?”

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Why? It’s a workweek. What else would I be doing?”

You weren’t buying it. “Do you always come to the pantry this often?”

“…I mean, I have to eat,” he replied like it was obvious. “Of course I come here.”

“Wow, me too!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “I have an idea—why don’t we eat together then?”

That made him falter.

He suddenly looked uneasy at your smile. Like you were plotting something.

“…No, thank you. I prefer eating alone. Now can you leave?”

“Why not?” You stepped closer, almost chest to chest even though he was much taller.

He stiffened but tried to maintain composure, clearing his throat before a grin slowly spread across his face.

“I see. If you wanted me so much, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself at me like that,” he chuckled lowly, eyes dragging down your figure. “All you had to do was ask.”

Your smile dropped instantly and stepped back.

You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face. That smug look made you want to chop off all his limbs.

“Oh, don’t lose that smile,” he tutted. “I’d rather think that mouth could do better. Maybe you’d be my cup of tea. Either way, it’s cheesed to meet you, Miss ____.”

Hell nah.

You were not backing down either.

Smiling sweetly, you replied, “You know what else my mouth could do, Mr. Jeon?”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Hurt your feelings. I think dildo is a perfectly acceptable insult. I’d call you a dick—but you’re not real enough.”

That caught him off guard.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

For the first time, Jeon Wonwoo didn’t know what to say.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smiled. “Or maybe my words are true—your dick isn’t that real.”

His eyes darkened as he stepped forward.

“Watch it. Say that again and I’ll put that mouth to good use.”

And then—

A sudden loud gasp from behind.

Both of you turned toward the doorway to see Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung frozen in place, hands dramatically covering their mouths.

“You heard that, guys?!” Seungkwan gasped. “What the fudge—she was about to get dicked down!”

Seokmin clutched Soonyoung’s arm. “Look at them pudding up against each other! They’re both nuts!”

“That’s tea-rrific,” Soonyoung added, “but whisk I’m willing to take for a pear like this!”

“GET OUT OF HERE!” you and Wonwoo barked simultaneously.

In the end, you shared your katsu sandwich with him.

Somehow, it turned into a mutual rant session about Hyunsuk. No one likes him anyway. Glad you’re both on the same boat.

He ended up taking you to dine at a downtown French bistro. Claimed it was “compensation.” Not that you were entirely forgiving about it.

You learned he works in the legal department. Recently promoted. Employee of the Month. Overworked to death.

“So, do you not have a life then?” you asked, noticing he’d loosened two buttons of his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up.

He’s handsome.

Annoyingly attractive.

If only he’d shut up.

But again, no attractive person should be forgiven for food stealing. Especially your lunch.

“I did,” he said, sipping his wine. “Until they put me to work.”

You nodded slowly. Then circled back.

“You could’ve just ordered takeaway. Why my lunch?”

He grinned, leaning back. “Why? Your lunch, of course. Yours is the best I’ve tasted so far.”

The audacity.

Rich in audacity. Poor manners.

“So… what would you like to order?” the waiter asked.

“Right. Food.” Wonwoo skimmed the menu.

“What do you recommend?” you asked.

He hummed, closing the menu and looking directly at you. “Anything that tastes good.”

Your throat dried slightly. Maybe you’re imagining things.

“Oh? Like what?”

“Meat.”

Silence.

“…Okay. I’ll just get ratatouille.”

“But that’s all vegetables.”

“Shut up, meathead.”

The waiter coughed. “How cooked would you like your steak, sir?”

Wonwoo was still looking at you.

“Make it medium rare. And make it two,” you smiled. “I’d like a piece of meat too.”

The waiter jolted and left immediately.

“How long have you been stealing?” you circled back.

He sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to do that—well, that was until I met you.”

“M-me?”

“Your lunch.”

Oh.

“I don’t like takeaways. I used to live with my roommate, Mingyu. He cooked for both of us until I moved into my own apartment,” he said. “And I can’t cook for shit.”

“Can tell,” you replied smoothly. “Your personality is probably as shitty as your cooking.”

He glared.

You smiled.

“Watch that,” he warned. “I’m definitely putting that smart mouth to good use—”

“Shut up. Save it for later. I’m not riding that fake dick.”

“…”

Silence.

You took a sip of wine, scanning the dim lights of the restaurant. Fine dining. Expensive plates. His salary was probably double yours anyway.

“Here’s the deal,” you said. “Stop eating my lunch. That’s it.”

He considered. “Fine. I’ll pay for your groceries. How about that?”

“Nah.”

Wonwoo frowned, fingers lacing together. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I really don’t like the dripping coffee machine. And the cafeteria sucks. And I hate that the caterer keeps slipping her phone number onto my tray.”

“All I ate were ham and cream cheese bagels,” he continued. “Depressing, I know.”

You raised a brow, unimpressed. “Why not? For an attention whore like you, I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“She’s married. With five kids.”

“….”

Okay. Fair enough.

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll bite.”

His eyes lit up.

He almost reached across the table, close to your hand then thought better of it and grabbed the napkins instead.

“Can I go to your place after this?” he asked suddenly.

You nearly choked on your wine. “Excuse me? Aren’t we going too fast?”

“To inspect your goods,” he deadpanned. “Your fridge.”

Yeah.

He’s definitely messing with you.

You did let him come back to your studio apartment, after all the groceries were paid for by him, of course. In return, you taught him how to make the katsu sandwich he’d been annoyingly edging about all night.

And yes, it turns out he really doesn’t like seafood. Wonwoo said it upsets his stomach, and once was enough for him to swear it off forever.

You set the groceries aside just as your cat greeted you, weaving around your ankles while you washed your hands, Wonwoo hovering awkwardly behind you.

Your place was cozy. Very you, he thought.

“Who’s this little companion?” he asked, crouching down to pet your white Persian cat. “Got a name?” He glanced up at you, finally noticing the frilly apron you were wearing.

“Wonton,” you said, peeling onions as you passed him another apron, this one reading Kiss the Cook.

He slipped it over his head without complaint. “That’s funny. Do you have a food phase or something?”

Now that you thought about it… yeah. 

“Yeah. I got dumpling takeaway that night, and she was inside the box when she was still a kitten. So I named her Wonton.”

The rest of the time, you walked him through each step carefully.

“So,” he said casually, “how often do you pound the meat?”

Silence.

You looked up.

He looked back, utterly oblivious. “The fried chicken sandwich yesterday was delectable.”

“Not much,” you muttered, going back to chopping potatoes. “Other than salty food—do you like sweets?”

He hummed while dipping the meat into egg batter and breadcrumbs. “Not really to be exact. I had it during a business trip in Europe. I don’t remember what it’s called. Something like… quickie?”

Your knife froze mid-chop.

“…Quiche,” you corrected. “It’s called quiche, Wonwoo.”

His face lit up, nodding like he’d just learned a new word.

For a moment, you wondered if he was messing with you but the genuine reaction told you otherwise.

“Are you messing with me?”

He blinked. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t push it. It was pointless.

“Why can’t you cook?” you asked instead, lowering the coated meat into hot oil.

“Well, there’s this thing called ‘I just don’t,’” he said. “I once almost ate half-burnt scrambled eggs and decided never again.”

You scoffed. “It costs nothing to be kind with your words, you know.”

“Some days it costs me my fucking sanity, honey,” he shot back, eyes sharp.

Which would’ve been intimidating if he weren’t wearing that Kiss the Cook apron.

Your mom was right. There’s nothing romantic about cooking together. Move the fuck away.

“You know what?” you said. “Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go left, and you go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he grinned. “Just don’t ogle me when I pound my meat. I’d know myself for the whole course of the meal.”

He’s so hot. If only he shut up.

“Calling yourself a meal when you’ve had an STD?” you said, setting the fried cutlet aside. “Okay, food poisoning.”

He frowned. “I’d have you know I’m very healthy and clean. So you’re safe.”

“No one said I’d fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly,” you replied. “But after we finish this, I’ll have my way with you later.”

“…..”

“So,” he said, scanning your apartment. “You live like this while working at a million-dollar company?”

“I live alone,” you shrugged, cutting the sandwich in half and handing it to him. “No reason for a big place. I do need a spacious kitchen, though.”

He nodded, biting into it. “Fair. What about a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Don’t have time for that.”

“It’s alright,” you added. “At least I get to rest on weekends. What about you? Hobbies?”

He hummed. “I dissociate. I play games. And lately, my bed is the only thing calling me.”

“Oh,” you said. “Then… hookups?”

He leaned closer, smirking. “Are you offering?”

“Hell no,” you said immediately. “I don’t have the energy.”

“For what?”

You gestured at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Half of your personality is just symptoms.”

“Your mom.”

“My mom passed away four years ago,” he said simply.

Well. That rhymed.

Silence stretched between you.

You swallowed. “…Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “It’s been a while. I still miss her.”

Another quiet beat.

“So…” you said carefully, “wanna catch up on Bridgerton?”

...

That night, you both sat on the couch with a noticeable gap between you, a cushion clutched to your chest like a shield.

The room was dim, lit only by the TV. Surprisingly, he was fully invested in Bridgerton. What was supposed to be one episode turned into a full marathon.

For some reason, it felt intimate.

Jeon Wonwoo, your coworker. The man who stole your lunch for a week. Also, the cause of your suffering.

Insufferable. Infuriating. Hot as fuck.

It would be a lie to say you’d never found him attractive. Well, except for that foul mouth. Not that you were any better.

The problem with this show was the sex scenes.

You’d completely forgotten how many there were.

Every time one came on, you felt the urge to skip it but Wonwoo didn’t move. He watched with the same unreadable expression, completely composed like poker-faced.

It was impossible to tell what he was thinking inside his head.

Another scene started.

Just great.

You were very aware of how you shifted slightly, how your fingers tightened around the cushion, how your knees pressed together. The small breath you exhaled without meaning to.

The couch shifted.

He turned his head toward you.

He definitely noticed and yet, he said nothing. That somehow made it worse.

Because he remembered the way you talked to him.

The insults. The degradation. The way you never backed down.

Fuck.

Maybe that’s what did it.

Maybe Jeon Wonwoo was turned on by the way you spoke to him like you weren’t afraid.

“Do you want to make out and make noises?” he asked suddenly, looking at you like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked.

For a moment, your brain short-circuited.

Then you thought: when else are you going to get the chance to make out with a disgustingly attractive man like this?

Exactly.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you muttered, dropping the cushion before swinging a leg over his lap.

“Hell yeah,” he breathed.

His hands found your hips instantly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.

It was messy. Almost clumsy at first, teeth knocking, breaths uneven but it quickly deepened. His mouth moved slowly against yours, deliberate now. One hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, holding you there.

You let out a soft sound against his mouth without meaning to.

Your body pressed closer.

He let out a low groan, restrained but it vibrated against your lips. You could feel his hardness pressed against yours, and it’s big.

When his tongue brushed yours, it wasn’t rushed. It was slow and intentional. Like he was testing how much you’d let him have.

You were already giving too much.

Time blurred.

When you finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe. A thin string of saliva caught in the dim light before breaking.

He looked up at you, and whatever was in his eyes now wasn’t smugness.

It was hunger.

Like he hadn’t had enough.

His head leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed yours as he murmured, “…I want you,” he breathed. “Please. I need to have you tonight.”

Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. The way his ragged breath fanned against your lips.

His hand wandered, softly caressing your back before sliding lower to grip your ass, making you jump slightly.

He grinned at your reaction. “Is that a yes?” he chuckled lowly, squeezing more firmly this time, drawing a gasp from you as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders.

“Cute,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your lips before looking up at you again. “…I need that pretty mouth of yours working now, since you’ve been such a smartass with me the whole time.”

Something about his piercing gaze made the heat pool low in your stomach. God, his commanding voice alone was enough to make you melt like chocolate left out too long under the sun.

You’re not a masochist, of course.

His thumb traced slowly over your lips before pressing gently, parting them as he slid the pad of his thumb just inside. His voice dropped.

“Get on your knees. Now.”

Did you listen? Hell yeah.

“Normally, I wouldn’t get on my knees for a man, but here I am,” you muttered as you moved between his thighs, while he spread his legs slightly, working at his belt and the sleek pants he’d worn earlier to dinner.

“I’m flattered to be the first man,” he chuckled. You could see the damp, slight pre-cum stain against his boxer. Then pulling the underwear down to reveal his shaft.

Giving a few pumps as he strokes his dick, groaning as his head goes over the couch. “Fuck, now go make use of that pretty mouth, baby.”

You breathe out, seeing that shafts make you hesitate a bit. Okay, that was a real dick; you take that back for insulting and calling his stupid dick fake.

Slowly wrapping your delicate hands around his shaft, you glance up to see his head thrown over the couch as you give a kiss on the tip of his cockhead.

His breath hitched as he watched you kneel between his legs, those soft  eyes looking up at him with a mix of nervousness and determination. The sight alone made his cock throb harder in your gentle grip.

"Fuck..." he breathed out, his head tilting back against the couch cushion as he felt your lips brush against his sensitive tip.

His fingers instinctively tangled in your long wavy brown hair, not pulling but just... holding on. Grounding himself. The way your hands wrapped around his shaft made him stroke himself slower, more deliberately, letting you set the pace.

"You're so fucking pretty like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low as he watched your every move. "But you know what... I don't want your hands right now."

He gently guided your head down, his cock pressing against your lips as he guided you to take him in. Not all at once, he didn't want to make you gag or feel uncomfortable. Just... enough to feel you.

"Mmm... that's it," he groaned softly, his other hand moving to cup the back of your head possessively. "Use that pretty mouth of yours now. I want to hear from you."

His hips gave a subtle thrust, not demanding but encouraging. His eyes stayed locked on you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the wet sounds filling the room.

"Christ... you're incredible," he breathed, his thumb stroking along your jawline tenderly despite the rough situation.

You stiffen slightly, feeling his whole length around your mouth. Slowly making your jaw work as you bobbed your head, sucking him good.

He stopped you mid-blowjob, pulling you up by your waist with surprising strength. The way you were panting, lips swollen from worshipping his cock, made him nearly lose control entirely.

"Fuck... you look so good like this," he growled, his voice strained as he guided you toward the bed.

Setting you down gently on the mattress, he immediately followed, positioning himself between your thighs. His hands pushed your skirt up slowly, deliberately, savoring how exposed you were for him.

"Shit…" he breathed, his eyes darkening as he stared at your glistening core. "So fucking wet for me already."

Without hesitation, he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, his tongue immediately seeking out your clit. The taste of you made him groan against your sensitive flesh.

"Mmm... fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles. "Let me eat you properly before I take you."

His fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading you wider as he feasted on you with renewed focus, determined to make you come on his tongue first.

You gasped sharply, your palm flying to your mouth, feeling his mouth dive in like a starved man. He knows exactly what you need to push you over the edge. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. 

He laughs against your core, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair. It made him groan with satisfaction. The way your body trembled beneath his mouth, your gasps growing louder.

It was fucking intoxicating.

He continues to lap on your cunt, wanting you to come undone by his tongue. He could feel you’re coming close as he works closer and closer to the edge. His fingers thrust in and out of you, over and over again.

“Fuck— you’re so close already,” he murmured against your soaked folds, his tongue working faster now. “Let go baby, let me taste it.”

You could feel your orgasm coming closer as he kept pumping into you. When you finally came, his fingers still pumping inside you, he felt your walls clench around him rhythmically. The sight of you completely undone, head thrown back as pleasure washed over you— it made him nearly lose control too.

You swore you almost saw stars and later, he was going to make you see the entire fucking galaxy once he was inside you.

“God, you look so beautiful like this,” he breathed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you with a soft, wet sound. “So fucking beautiful when you let go.”

You gave him a weak tap, blinking as you tried to catch your breath. God, you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Or maybe no one had ever made you feel this good.

“Hold up—” you breathed meekly. “Let me… catch my… fucking hell…”

It was embarrassing to let him see you like this. Kind of pathetic, honestly, to get so worked up just from being eaten out.

Wonwoo chuckled, settling himself between your thighs as he looked down at you, almost menacingly. “Take your time, sweet pea. I’m not done with you yet.”

Then, surprisingly, he said something reasonable. “Just to make sure—give me a safe word.”

You blinked, finally propping yourself up on your elbows against the mattress as you considered it.

“Strawberry,” you said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Make it shorter. Do you think you can say that before I pound you like dough?”

You huffed. “Cherry, then.”

“Fair enough.” He leaned in to kiss you again but stopped midway. “I don’t have condoms, though…”

And you weren’t on pills. You couldn’t blame him. No one had expected this to happen.

You checked the drawer beside your bed. It had probably been sitting there for two years, back when you never expected there’d be a man in your life again.

When you handed it to him, he bristled, letting out a laugh and flashing a cocky grin. “This isn’t my size, sugarplum. It’s alright—I’ll pull out immediately,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your temple then running his hands along your curves possessively.

He sheathed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, yet something raw, almost vulnerable flickered across his expression.

“I’m clean,” he murmured, his voice more serious now. “And I’ve never done this without protection before. So… yeah.” His gaze softened just slightly. “I’m trusting you, too.”

You let out a small whimper, feeling himself positioned at your entrance, his cock pressing against your wet heat. His thumbs framed your face, cradling it gently.

“Tell me you want this,” he said softly, eyes searching yours. “Tell me you want me inside you bare.” His hips gave a small thrust, just teasing waiting for your answer.

Almost cussing out at him for purposely made you feel this way, you breathe out almost pleadingly despite your bite. “...you asshole, stop playing—” you sharply inhaled when he thrusted his cock inside you.

He felt you gasp as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you open slowly. 

Fucking hell.

The way you clenched around him immediately made him grit his teeth, might as well come inside you at this point.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, his hands moving to grip your hips. “So tight…fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He didn’t slam in, he took his time, letting you adjust to him. The way your walls squeezed him rhythmically was almost too much, but he forced himself to stay controlled.

And you—you never felt so fucking amazing right now. You think you might ascend to heaven. Eyes rolling over with your grip tightens on the sheets.

“Still with me, sweet pea?” he asked, voice strained as he hilted himself completely inside you.

You nodded slowly at him, murmured softly, “...yeah…you can move faster now.”

His fingers dug into your skin slightly, not quite bruising but definitely holding on tight. Breath hitched when you finally gave him permission, that single nod making his control slip dangerously. The way your walls were already clenching around him was driving him insane.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed out, hips already starting to move. He pulled back slowly, feeling every inch of you squeeze around him then thrust forward with more purpose. The wet sounds of your tangled bodies filled the room.

Your poor cat, Wonton, is already scurrying away somewhere.

He could feel your body trembling beneath him, and it made something possessive ignite in him. He wanted every gasp, every moan and every shudder of pleasure entirely for himself.

His thrusts became faster, more desperate as his breath came in harsh pants against your neck. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded softly, one hand moving to cup your chin, fracking you to look at him. "Tell me when you’re close.”

His cock throbbed inside you, pre-cum leaking out but he was determined to make this last. To make you feel as good as you made him feel earlier with that perfect, needy mouth.

“You’re killing me,” he admitted breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “But I’m not pulling out until I see you completely destroyed…”

...on my cock.” you heard him finished, his voice thick with need.

God, you can’t even talk properly with him. Did he just fucked you this good?

His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp. The change in rhythm was almost punishing— harder, faster and deeper. Each thrust he gave, sent pleasure spiraling through your waves, making your toes curl and your visions blur.

“Fuck…fuck— Wonwoo! You cried out, back arching off the bed slightly as he drove into you relentlessly.

One of his hands moved from your hip to your hair, fisting it rough;y and tilting your head back. His lips crashed against yours in a desperate, messy kiss that tasted like desperation and need.

“Say my name while I fuck you.” He demanded between kisses, his other hand moving to your throat, just barely pressing, not choking but claiming.

“Wonwoo!” you sobbed into the kiss, voice breaking.

It was all too much. His mouth on yours, hands on you and the way he was fucking you like he wanted to imprint himself on your very soul. Your orgasm built faster than you could handle, climbing higher and higher until you were breathless and dizzy.

“I’m—oh god— I’m—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your inner walls clamping down around him.

He felt you come, your body shaking and clenching around his cock, and it was his undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside then immediately pulled out as he promised. His remains spilled on your stomach, giving a few last pumps as he stays there.

“Fuck… fuck…” he breathed against your neck, his body collapsing onto yours as aftershocks rippled through both of you.

You stayed like that for a while, limbs tangled, your body slowly growing heavy with exhaustion.

But goddamn. That was the best sex you’d ever had.

(You’d only had, like, two back in school, but whatever.)

Just when you thought he was finished, he lifted his head and looked down at you before finally shrugging off the dress shirt that had been hanging open. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the lean muscle beneath.

God, you silently thanked the heavens for giving you an asshole that looked like him.

Grinning cockily, he hovered over you, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Oh, I’m not done yet, honeybun. That was just the appetizer. We still have the full course and dessert.”

Okay, maybe you should’ve bought the condoms and pills when you were grocery shopping with him.

“Now strip bare before I devour you for real.” He smacked your ass and squeezed, making you yelp.

The rest was history.

The next morning. Thank heavens it was Saturday. You would not have survived this if it were Monday and a workweek.

You fumbled beneath the comforter, still half-asleep. Then it hit you.

You’d been dicked down by the most insufferable, food-thieving man alive.

Slowly, you sat up, immediately feeling the soreness between your thighs.

Thanks a lot to that bastard for bottoming you out so good.

And you loved every single second of it.

Noticing the empty space beside you, your gaze drifted across the room—only to find him in nothing but his boxers, crouched beside Wonton, your cat. It looked like he’d already fed her.

Wow.

The sight of him watching your cat eat was almost… innocent.

Was that really the same person who pounded you like a beast last night?

Whatever.

You looked down and realized you were wearing his dress shirt. He probably cleaned you up before you passed out.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you shuffled toward the kitchen. You were starving, might as well whip something up.

He noticed you rummaging through the fridge and followed after you.

“Morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist as you worked at the counter. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Me,” you joked.

He immediately groped your chest, making you yelp as you slapped his hands away.

He didn’t look sorry at all. “You said it. I’m just taking what I want,” he grinned against your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.

“Let’s get married,” he suddenly said. “I need you for a lifetime.”

You hummed thoughtfully while whisking the pancake batter. “For what? The food or the sex?”

“Both,” he confirmed easily. “I already paid for the groceries. I’m basically your wallet at this point. Marry me and you get both—my dick and my money.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

His arms tightened around you as he added, “Then I can finally fuck you without using those damn condoms and pills.”

That made you turn to look at him, eyebrow raised as he flashed that stupidly annoying grin.

“Was that a threat?”

“A promise,” he corrected. “We’d make a great pear. And I wouldn’t mind putting a few little peanuts in you.”

He nuzzled your nape like an oversized cat.

You stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re crazy.”

“Yeah,” he said smoothly. “I’m nuts for you, sweetie pie.”

Since that day, you kept seeing Wonwoo during lunch breaks at work.

With a price, of course. The lunch arrangement.

For some reason, you couldn’t help but notice the change in his personality. Well… he’d been a lot nicer lately.

And it scared the shit out of you.

You’d rather have him insufferable as always, wearing that stupid cocky grin.

Okay, maybe not. That was too annoying. You weren’t sure you could restrain your fist from connecting with his majestic face.

“Have you been sitting in all that sugar you bake with? Because you’ve got a sweet butt,” Wonwoo suddenly said.

A loud crash echoed through the kitchen as you dropped the baking tray in your hands, staring at him in horror.

Noticing your mortified expression, he took a step back. “Sorry. Too forward?”

He’d been crashing at your place again, insisting on driving you home as an excuse to spend more time together.

“Have you been laying in sugar, sweetheart?” he tried again. “Because you’re looking pretty sweet. Is that better?” he asked, almost apologetically.

You honestly didn’t know what to say, setting the meatloaf aside.

“I mean…” you started slowly, “…you always smack my ass whenever you get the chance, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it when I’m about to get into the passenger seat.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I think all of you are sweet, really.” Then he added, “I can tell your parents were bakers—they’d have to be to make a cutie pie like you.”

You blinked, finally turning to look at him. “…Well, my mom was a baker. And my brother owns a café, so yeah. Technically.”

“Wait, really?” he asked, momentarily dropping the act. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“You never asked,” you replied simply, waving him off. “By the way, what’s with all these cheesy pick-up lines? Where did you even learn them?”

Completely ignoring your question, he continued, “Are you bread? Because you’re the loaf of my life.”

Your lips twitched. “Okay, now you’re up to something. Did you lose a bet?”

“I think I’ve got cavities, because you’re too sweet.”

You chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter in your pink frilly apron. “If you’re trying to seduce me into baking cookies, you could’ve just asked.”

“I don’t know about cookies,” he shot back smoothly, “but you and I would bake a great couple.”

Your smile widened as you pushed off the counter and slowly walked toward him. “Oh? Is that what you think?”

He audibly gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you approach.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he continued weakly. “Because you’re hot.”

You let out a soft giggle, stopping in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know if I’m scared of you or attracted to you.”

His hands naturally found your waist. “Marry me, please. Let me be your husband. I’ll take care of you… and our little peanut. Soon.” He nuzzled into your neck.

Smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, Won,” you murmured, “if you want something sweet, there’s plenty of sugar right here.”

You tapped your lips playfully. He didn’t hesitate before pressing his mouth to yours.

A moment later, you both pulled back, laughing and giggling like idiots, foreheads resting against each other.

“By the way,” you asked softly, “where did you even learn those pick-up lines?”

He paused, thinking for a second.

“Jeonghan,” he said simply.

Ah.

Of course.

You never liked him. Same department as Wonwoo…just more obnoxious.

He definitely put him up to this on purpose.

One thing you actually learned from your mother's advice that surprisingly worked was that the fastest way into a man’s heart was through his stomach.

Turns out, he stopped stealing your food. He found something sweeter to keep instead.

FIN.

A/N: once again, thanks a lot for staying until the end, apples!! finally we've come to the end. if you're interested in more of my fics, feel free to check my page and my masterlist, if any of you guys are interested include in my taglist, feel free to sign in the form link.

feedbacks and comments are appreciated!! (for future purposes, so that i will improve my writings more.) pls do support me if you found this entertaining! ˙𐃷˙ here

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.