piper . ̫.

When you glance up, you find Wonwoo looming in the doorway, his presence calm and silent like he always is as he brushes bits of snow off his dark coat. However, you can’t help but also detect the signs of exhaustion to his features. Like a certain dull ache not even the dim lighting in the room can mask away. When he catches sight of you𑁋half-buried under the duvet and peering up at him with the softest, yet worried pair of eyes𑁋his shoulders drop immediately.

You set aside the datapad on the bedside table, straightening up your posture. “Hey.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer at first. He just… looks at you, with an unreadable, lingering gaze. You watch as he wordlessly sheds off his coat and gloves, the ends of his black turtleneck riding up slightly when he stretches. Your stomach jumps when you spot the smallest hint of skin and taut muscle, but it leaves as quickly as it appears. 

“You’re still awake,” he finally says, voice low and roughened just around the edges. Probably from after all those hours spent in the operating room.

There isn’t any judgment from his words, merely just a calm, quiet acknowledgment. He knows how much protecting the city means a lot to you, but he also notices𑁋always notices𑁋just how much you neglect yourself in the process. How exhausted you are after resonating to help battle with Wanderers. How your breathing stutters against him as you sleep like you’re fighting in your dreams. How often you always forget that you, too, are also as fragile just like everybody else. 

Wonwoo tugs at the ends of his shirt, pausing for a moment as if he’s contemplating taking it off. He glances at you swiftly, a flicker of something close to hesitation behind his eyes. Not just whether he’s welcome, but whether you need him closer.

So, you silently shift and lift up the edge of the covers in quiet invitation. You keep your gaze steady on his.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything more after that.

He takes off his dainty glasses and sets it to the side, before lifting the shirt up over his head with deliberate ease, fully revealing skin that’s been kissed by surgical light and toned arms painted with scars caused by his Ice Evol and from previous battles with Wanderers. It’s beautiful𑁋he’s beautiful, and you find your gaze lingering longer than it should.

He notices, of course. But he doesn’t smirk or tease. Instead, he watches you closely while approaching the bed, climbing on before settling quite literally on top of you. One of his legs slots in between yours as he shifts himself so his weight isn’t fully on you. Then his head lowers to your chest, right where your heart is, and you feel his hands wandering underneath your shirt. Not to start anything, but just to touch you. 

You wrap your arms around him to bring him closer, fingertips slowly grazing over the ridges of his spine. He exhales heavily from your touch𑁋a soft and long sound as if he’s been holding it the entire day and finally has the chance to breathe. 

“You’re warm,” Wonwoo mutters against your skin, lips dangerously close to your sternum. “Always are.”

“And you’re always cold,” You retort back playfully, flinching slightly as his fingers roam over your ribcage. You swear you can hear the subtle smirk on his face without having to see it. “Long day?”

Wonwoo just hums in response, nuzzling his face closer into your neck.

“Too long,” he finally admits. “Three Wanderer injuries. Two were kids.”

Your heart spikes at that. “Oh, Wonwoo…”

“They’re okay now,” he says quietly. “That’s all that matters.”

“Still,” You continue while absentmindedly tracing circles over his back muscles. “I hate that you had to see that.”

Wonwoo smiles faintly against your skin. “Says the hunter herself. I worry about you too. A lot. You think I don’t see it?”

Your head falls in slight guilt. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“It’s hard to not notice,” he affirms. “Which is why I always come back to you. To take care of you.”

His arms curl tighter around you like he’s trying to mold his body in yours. You don’t notice that your shirt has ridden up dangerously right below your chest, your abdomen tensing when you feel his lips press there.

He doesn’t stop. Another kiss follows. Then another. And another. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, nudging the hem of your shirt up just a little more with the bridge of his nose to litter sweet and gentle kisses over your ribcage. A hum of satisfaction escapes his mouth when he hears that particular sigh that leaves you whenever he’s patient with you. 

“Can feel you relaxing, love,” he murmurs, his thumb drawing over that sensitive strip of skin under your breast. “And your heart rate slowing. But it spikes whenever I…”

His thumb drags a little higher, teasing underneath your shirt, and it’s so damn slow it has goosebumps forming in its wake. 

“...touch you here, isn’t that right?” he asks even if he already knows the answer, eyes half-lidded when he looks up to meet your gaze, drinking in every detail of your reaction like you’re the most important thing he’s ever touched in all of his lifetimes. 

The duvet slips even farther down the bed as he continues to drag his lips over your skin. You can feel the world start to slip away from you, from both of you𑁋just two tired bodies needing to take care of this ache. To find peace within the warzone of a world you frequently find yourselves in. 

When Wonwoo pulls away and brings himself up, his hands linger at the hem of your shirt. You could only part your lips, giving a wordless nod to him that it’s okay to keep going. The corners of his mouth lift up in the softest, most intimate smile, yet his eyes are dark and full of want, need.  

You lift your arms so he could pull the shirt off you, discarding it somewhere on the bedroom floor. You’re not wearing anything underneath, and you hear the exact moment his breath hitches when his gaze envelops you. 

Wonwoo finds himself frozen. His eyes roam over your exposed chest. He’s seen you bare for him many times before, has worshipped every inch of you with his mouth. He knows your body like the lines on the back of his hand, and each time always takes his breath away. 

He leans down, trailing his kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, before leading them down your neck, and right in between your breasts, your body arching after every kiss he leaves. He shifts shifts closer to you, slotting his thigh more snug in between your legs, his hands ghosting down your sides with the caress of a feather. 

“I want you to melt for me tonight,” Wonwoo whispers heatedly against your skin. “Will you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You can hardly manage any words out, only giving him a nod once again. 

“Say it, love,” he encourages gently. “Use your words for me.”

You take in a deep breath, carding your hand through his hair. “Yes, Wonwoo. I… I need you. Please.” 

He reaches to grab your hand into his, closing his eyes and pressing a few grateful kisses to your knuckle. 

“Good girl.”

The moment his mouth reaches your breast, you swear the world tilts upside down. He starts with a kiss, before dragging his tongue across your skin with enough pressure to make your toes curl under the duvet. Your hand tugs lightly on his hair like instinct as his mouth closes around your hardened nipple, sucking gently, then with just enough pull to make you gasp. 

“Oh𑁋Wonwoo𑁋” 

The pleased groan that leaves him lights your skin aflame. He doesn’t rush this at all. Wonwoo never rushes when it comes to you. You feel the burdens melting away like snow from the warmth of his worship. He ravishes your left breast with the utmost attention, cradling the other with his free hand and teasing the peak. Then he slowly switches to your right one, and adores it the same way. 

Heat blooms down your belly, your legs clenching around his thigh to ease the ache that’s building up too fast. Wonwoo feels it. Feels the subtle roll of your hips around his leg, hears the way your sighs blend into quiet moans, loves the way your body naturally finds his𑁋and how he is the only man to cherish the privilege of watching you come undone. 

His hand drifts downward, slipping below the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, then lower until he cups the soaked heat of you through your panties. 

“Needy girl tonight, aren’t we?” Wonwoo rasps darkly. “Do you want my fingers, my love?”

You nod without hesitation, already bucking your hips against his hand, practically saying I want you. I want everything. 

Wonwoo doesn’t make you wait after that. 

In a swift move, he dips his hand below the waistband, the tips of his fingers grazing against your bare heat. A shaky gasp leaves you at the contact. 

His own heart flutters at the sound as he softly caresses through your slickness. It’s enough to make him pause and for his eyes to flutter shut, just for the briefest second to take in how soaked you are for him, how your body is practically begging for him. 

Wonwoo kisses your neck as he explores through your folds, running a slender finger over your slit. Then his forehead falls right above your breast, taking in a breath and exhaling slowly, as he continues to explore you thoroughly. Your head falls back onto the pillow, lips parted in pleasure, your heavy sighs fading into deep moans. 

When you feel a second singer enter inside of you, your hips jolt against his hand, searching for more of him. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” he groans roughly against the swell of your breast, hot breath hitting your skin. “Good girl. Let me in, just like that…” 

When his fingers sink deeper within you, your thighs start to tremble around his hips. You’re already close and he’s hardly even started. Every whimper that leaves you is like music that only he gets to listen to. Every beautiful twist in your expression is like a language he’ll never get tired of learning over and over again. 

Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to watch you properly, his dark hair messy from your hands, lips swollen from kissing your skin, pupils blown wide with love and desire he’s been trying to restrain. 

“You always take my fingers so well,” he murmurs. “Squeezing me so fucking tightly… so desperate to cum…”

Your walls pulse around the praise, and it makes his jaw flex.

“You like that?” he whispers quietly, his mouth sucking onto your nipple again before letting it slip free with a low gasp. “You like it when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

You nod frantically, his fingers thrusting deeper and hitting that spot that hazes your vision. “I𑁋fuck𑁋yes, I love it𑁋”

Wonwoo’s free hand begins to glide up your body, right over your waist, your stomach, your ribs, his touch sending goosebumps up and down your hot skin. Then it settles around your throat. Not aggressive or rough, just holding. Feeling. His thumb softly strokes the underside of your jaw as he leans in, lips caressing over yours without kissing yet.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You try𑁋as in, you really, really try𑁋yet it’s so hard to hold eye contact with the all the pleasure threatening to spill out of you.

He gives your throat a subtle squeeze and tilts your face back to him. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. Don’t run from it.”

When you’re able to force your gaze back up, he presses a deep, lingering kiss to your mouth before resting his forehead against yours. His breath is shaky, a trembling sound when it meets your lips. Your slick warmth coils around him tightly as his fingers continue its deep, devastating thrusts inside of you. 

You’re right at the edge, and he’s about to push you into those flames. 

The room fills with the sounds of your gasps, broken moans, and the unabashed slickness of your cunt being pleasured by his hand. Wonwoo continues to kiss you every few seconds as if he can’t fathom the thought of being even a millimetre away from you. Your nails dig deeper into his shoulder, desperate to hold something onto as your body chases for that sinful, sweet release. 

His lips brush over your cheek, then to your mouth, then your throat, before finally whispering right into your ear:

“Cum for me.”

And your body obeys without hesitation. 

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth falling open with a cry of his name falling off your lips as your climax hits you like a wave. The tips of your fingers sink deeper into Wonwoo’s skin, clutching him tighter while his hand slowly continues to guide you through every wave of the hot, blinding white pleasure and ecstasy that courses through your body. 

And to him, it’s beautiful. The way you come undone in his arms is beautiful. So, so breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Atta girl,” Wonwoo breathes into your neck, drawing you closer to him. “You’re always so… angelic when you fall apart.”

Even with your breathing beginning to subside, you’re still trembling a little, thighs still shaking around his hand. You feel the soft brush of his nose against your cheek, then the soothing press of lips to your warm skin. When he finally pulls back to look at you, his expression is soft, adoring, though a dark glint passes through his pupils like a shooting star, the corners of his mouth curving up into something darkly pleased. 

You can tell there’s some residual desire there. It’s almost hypnotic. 

Slowly, Wonwoo withdraws his fingers from you, making you whimper quietly from the loss and sensitivity.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he coos reassuringly. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You barely manage a nod as he lifts his hand back up. Heat blooms through you once more when you catch the faint sheen of your slickness that coats his fingers. Then there’s a brief moment𑁋almost as quick as a heartbeat𑁋where you watch his face shift into something contemplative, like he’s considering something.

The next thing you know, he’s bringing his hand towards you. It’s an offer, or a gift, perhaps. 

“Open your mouth.”

You do. Your lips part for him as he slips his fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself and the leftover remnants of his touch inside of you. Wonwoo watches you with silent intensity, his jaw tightening, body tensing, a sharp inhale escaping out of him that he doesn’t even quite catch himself. 

Snow continues to blanket the world outside. The thought of Wanderers has completely ceased to exist at this point. Right now, it’s just you and Wonwoo. 

When he eventually eases his fingers out, his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. He leans in once more for a deep kiss, as if he’s craving to taste whatever is left of you too. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks breathlessly.

You still feel like you’re floating somewhere halfway between bliss and sleep. But Wonwoo’s eyes𑁋God, his eyes𑁋has you stuck in a trance. A spell that he can cast again and again and it still won’t be enough. 

You shift purposely in his hold, thighs brushing against the hardness in his pants. He lets out a low groan at the contact. 

“I can take a little more,” You tell him.

And that’s all it takes.

Of course, once that guy hears you’re taking Wonwoo instead of him, he dumps you without ceremony. And now Wonwoo sits on your bed in a rented suit far too expensive for him to feel entirely comfortable in, watching your reflection choose which earrings to wear, and he wonders if you’re even bothered. He doesn’t know how to talk to you about this. Partners are off limits, usually, but since he had some involvement in the break up, in some roundabout way, he thinks maybe he should at least check. He wets his lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Since Hongseok?”

You meet his eyes in the mirror. “Fine,” you say. “I don’t think it was going anywhere. He wanted something more traditional. I started to get the impression he was setting up to cheat on me, actually.”

Wonwoo is unsurprised, sounds like you are too. “You’re better off without him,” he says, picking at bits of fluff from your blanket clinging to his trousers. It’s one his mother knitted for your sixteenth birthday. “You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you start. “I think I’ll stay single for a while.” 

Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows in surprise and you catch him in the mirror. With a laugh you say, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’ve been a serial dater since we moved to this city and you’re stopping now?” Wonwoo’s lips twist into a grin. Teasing is easier than edging too close to real. “Just when you’ve hit your prime?”

You scoff. “Rude. I’ll hit my prime in my thirties. Just watch.”

Wonwoo watches as you apply your usual lipstick and thinks about the time you didn’t wear any. You were just kids but it didn’t seem so long ago. You’re almost the same. Eighteen years of your starkly different lives intertwined and somehow still as close as you ever were. Still the sharpest person he’s ever known, still the sweetest if only in private. Still his parents' favourite person, still his. (His stomach twists). 

You’re giving yourself a final appraisal in the mirror before turning to Wonwoo and asking how you look. 

“Good,” he says, with a nod. Breathtaking, really. “Pretty.” 

“Thanks,” you say, smiling relieved, moving to sit next to him on the bed and linking his arm. “We scrub up well, don’t we?”

“Mm,” he agrees, following your gaze into the mirror, pinpricks creeping over his skin. You look like you’re together, he thinks, as he notices you’ve chosen earrings that go with his tie. Anyone could make that assumption. 

“You look sad, Wonwoo,” you say, quiet and soft. “Are you sad?”

“No,” he says, throat tight and feeling like his back is pressed against the wall. “What would I have to be sad about?” He lets you slip your hand into his, lets you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment, because this is how you make him feel better. Because you know that he can’t be pushed to talk about things he hardly understands. Barely a minute goes by before he sucks in a breath and says, “Shall I call us a taxi?” 

“Sure, number’s in the book next to the telephone,” you say. “Want a drink? I need one for this.”

“Water for me, someone’s got to get you home.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” You laugh when Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. My reputation’s on the line.”

“One beer,” he offers. You pout and he can’t stop his smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It went like this:

Both of you had no less than three drinks before the taxi showed up.

Your peers kept thinking that he was your “elusive boyfriend” and upon correction that he was ‘just Wonwoo’ their eyes lit up and exclaimed “oh we’ve heard so much about you!” 

The way he blushed made you want to kiss him silly (you had another drink instead).

Drink five? Four? Everyone here is obliterated, no one notices you and Wonwoo readying to leave.

He looks so pretty like this, tie undone, glasses slipping down his nose, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, watching your lips as you talk.

The taxi you pre booked won’t be here for another ten minutes but the room was so stuffy (in both the literal and figurative sense) that as soon as you tell Wonwoo you need to get out of there, he’s nodding and pulling you out into the street. It’s so busy– of course, it’s OT week– that you struggle to find a spot where you won’t be bumped into for a while, eventually settling against the wall of the building opposite, in good view of the road. The noise around you is hectic, and you’re desperate for something less bothersome. Wonwoo looks drunk, looks fucked out. Cheeks flushed and lips parted. Eyes closed, he tips his head back against the brick and exposes the column of his throat. Pretty.

“Hey,” you say, slipping your arms around his waist. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Yeah, ‘course.” A pause– he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy but you like how it feels. “Anything for you.”

There’s a saccharine sweetness stirring in your stomach. You ask him to tell you the story of Baucis and Philemon again, press your body against his and hope he can still read you like he used to. It’s been years. Maybe he won’t want to.

“Why do you like that one so much?” he asks. You take in the smell of his soap. You know you shouldn’t want to go down this road again. “It’s hardly even a love story.”

“They’re the ultimate love story,” you insist, looking up at your friend to find him already watching you. “They’re precious to each other. I want that kind of love.”

It’s more than that. Baucis and Philemon have a timeless love. Their lightness oozes out of them, their love is both infectious and tender. So devoted they choose to die together. Never without the other even after they’re gone– turned to trees, and their branches and roots weave together so tightly that you can’t tell where either one of them starts and they stay like that, as relics of a lost ancient world. 

There is something ancient about Wonwoo, too. For as long as you can remember he has been older than his years, telling stories of places long buried, of deities forgotten about. You think maybe he was meant for then and not now, the cusp of the twenty-first century. He keeps echoes within him. Carries heavy stones to turn over in his hands and spend time memorising the marks. He is deliberate in the way he moves, no ill-perceived rush, and Wonwoo’s silence carries more weight than his words. 

So when his eyes flicker to your lips again, and he still doesn’t move, you know it’s on you. You know you’re going to have to be the one to shift the sands, change the direction of the tide. You’ve been lovers before. Neither of you have ever said never. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’d been thinking about it all night but you were the one to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, eyes on his and holding the proximity. Are you thinking about it like he is? Is your heart thrumming in your chest like his? 

“I can feel you thinking.” 

“Uh huh.” His mouth goes dry. He can’t kiss you with a sandpaper tongue. 

You run a finger between two buttons on his shirt, eyes up, watching his reaction. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Hansol’s at his parents' house this weekend, right?” 

Wonwoo’s mind goes blank and he can feel the pink creep over his cheeks. “Did you squeeze your Pompompurin pyjamas in that little bag?”

Your lips twitch in an almost smile, lean in to ghost a kiss against his bottom lip. Wait to see if he pulls back– he doesn’t. His hands just slip down your back, touching the skin under the strap of your dress. Didn’t imagine when he helped you zip up earlier that he’d be the one invited to pull it off you. Has he hidden his desire so poorly? “Do you wanna fuck me in those pyjamas, Wonwoo?”

The street noise is drowned out when you kiss him properly, and it’s embarrassing the way he’s breathless, gripping at your waist and pulling your body closer. Humiliating that this is in full view of strangers, doesn’t want them to see how you lick into his mouth, doesn’t want them to hear your sharp gasp as his teeth drag over your bottom lip. He spins you on the spot, crowds you against the brick and blocks out the world with his shoulders. You pull on a button and slip your hand through the gap. The touch burns. Your kisses are suffocating, loves the way you smile into it, the way you make him chase your lips, run your fingers along the waistband of his trousers an– fuck– he’s gonna get hard in the middle of the street. 

Desperate, he pulls off you and whips his head around to look for the taxi, you’re already complaining. “Not here–,” he says, words rasped, catching in his throat. He can see the taxi rounding the corner, and in a beat he’s pushing off the wall and dragging you toward it by the hand. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He doesn’t touch you in the taxi. Hopes you know it’s not because he didn’t want to, he just doesn’t want to lose himself. His fingers flex eager on the leather seats, wanting something he won’t take. As the driver fiddles with the radio, you lean over to lay your hand across his, to whisper in his ear, “do you still lick your fingers after you’ve made someone come on them?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, but he can feel the way you watch him swallow– thick– and stare hard out the window at the passing lights. He never did that with anyone but you.

Now you’re paying for it. He’s more confident in the privacy of his bedroom, in the dark. Cages you in his bed, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights before smothering you with his body. Your mouth on his– wet, and eager, and bruising. His hands move to your face, in your hair, angling your head to give his lips access to the tender spot behind your ear. He’s got your dress bunched up around your waist. Takes up all the space between your legs, still too much fabric separating you. One of Wonwoo’s hands cast over the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple through the thin fabric. You melt into the touch, rolling your hips against him, he sighs into your skin. “Can feel how hard you are,” you gasp, hands pulling at his hair. Makes his skin electric. 

He moves faster, desperate, and you trap his body between your legs, angle your hips so his cock can rub against your clothed cunt just right. “Gonna ruin your trousers,” you whisper. Yeah yeah yeah, fuck it, he’ll pay for dry cleaning for once. The warmth, the wet, seeping through makes him insane. Needs it more than ever, needs you just like this, breath ragged and pupils blown. Needs you needing him so bad you can’t even get out of your clothes before you come. Needs you whining, needs you telling him how badly you want it. Won’t ask for anything, but you know what he likes. It’s always been easy with you. 

“Feels good,” you say. Wonwoo nods into your neck, the pressure building so fast it’s blinding. Hips thrusting rough, rutting like an animal against your clit, desperate for you to get off before he falls apart but he’s so cl–”Missed you so much, Wonwoo.”

“Ah, fu- fuck–” You’re sucking a mark into his neck and Wonwoo can’t stop. Comes hard, breath catching and his rhythm is all fucked up, so fucking embarrased that he couldn’t draw this out. You’re talking him through it– sounds like heaven whispering how good he is, how good this feels, how you love how he sounds when he forgets himself. Didn’t realise he was groaning. A mess of a person reflected in the cum staining through the fabric of this horribly expensive rental. 

Shit.

Needs to get out of this fucking suit. Needs to press his face into your cunt. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. Four years– you wasted four years with other people when you could’ve been doing this. Pushes away thoughts of you being someone else's not even a week ago. Some sick, possessive slice of him wants to reclaim you, mark you up and present you as his to the world. Wants to take the cum in his underwear and push it into your body. Look, see, she’s mine mine mine. Wonwoo’s chest aches.

Your clothes shed in silence. You lay him back against the pillows, kneeling next to him with spread legs, he loves when you let him see. You take one of his hands in yours and work circles into his palm as you pull two of his fingers into your mouth. Get them slick with spit, work your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He can hardly breathe watching you manoeuvre his hand down your body against your cunt, using him like a toy, until his remaining brain cells start to work and he takes over the movement. He’s half hard again already. 

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he rasps. Crooks his fingers and you whine. Wants to eat the sounds spilling from your lips. Needs to do something with his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Sit on my face?” he asks, obvious urgency in his voice. 

“N-no, like this first,” you say, almost like you’re begging. “Missed your hands so much.”

You look at him through hazy eyes as he works you quickly to the edge, pulling whimpers from your throat every time he plays with your clit. Feels you get impossibly wet when he slips his fingers in deep and moans unashamed along with you. You buck into his palm, head tipping forward to watch his soaked long fingers fucking into you agonisingly slow. Your breath stutters in your throat as he uses his other hand to tease your skin, trailing gently over the meat of your thigh, your ribs, cupping your breast and then dragging you over him to take a nipple in his mouth. Flicks his wet tongue over until it pebbles between his teeth, and you gasp. 

“M’close already,” you whisper. “Gonna come, Wonwoo.” He ruts his hard cock into the air, chasing heat that isn’t there. Fucking loser. You don’t even notice with the way he’s got your breaths coming in fragments. You come undone like lightning, cunt soaking and pulsing around his fingers, your body collapses on top of him, your forehead pressed into his chest. Wonwoo wants a taste but wants to work you through the aftershocks first. He teases slow circles over your clit until you fall apart with a sob, and have to drag his hand out from between your legs.

He waits until you sag to your side– catches sight of your cheeks, flushed and sweat sticking to your skin, your pupils blown out and breathing shallow, more beautiful than he’s ever seen you– before he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them. 

“You’re indecent,” you laugh in disbelief. He almost feels gross until you’re babbling about how hot he is. How he makes you insane. You laugh again when he rolls you onto your back and settles between your legs. It’s been so long he needs to do this right. Starts by pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, ghosts more over your centre, waits for the sound of your gentle sigh before laving a thick stripe over you. Knows just the way to make you molten. He laps at your core until you’re almost sobbing. You jolt whenever his nose slips over your clit, and you’re begging for him to stop the tease. He’ll never deny you what you want. His tongue flicks fast over your clit, his face wet with you now. His moans sound muffled against your cunt when his name falls from your lips in staccato breaths. 

Things have hardly changed. Four years and now, it’s just the fucking same. Your fingers still find purchase in his hair the same way. Mouths at your inner thighs to give your cunt a break. Shit, you’re so hot. You’re clenching around fucking nothing. Pulls the skin between his teeth and you’re writhing, trying to get his tongue back where you need it. Love when you get desperate like this. 

Your nails drag over the nape of his neck and he’s close to losing control– fucks his cock against the mattress and almost cries at the pressure. You grind against his face, Wonwoo knows you’re close. Blacks out as he eats you like he’s been starving, his face so slick with spit and you it drips down his chin to the sheets. Doesn’t dare stop to breathe as he feels your legs begin to shudder over his shoulders. He watches the way you look down at him, brows pinched pleasure, waits for your lips to fall apart with a broken sob before licking into you so deep. He can’t tell who comes first, can’t tell who the enormous wet patch on the mattress belongs to, doesn’t fucking care, just wants to keep you. 

He moves over you when you’re done, pressing chaste kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your cheeks, to your temple, before you’re giggling and pulling his body next to yours. 

“Shift over,” he says, tapping at your hip. “Don’t wanna sleep in the wet patch.”

“Did you come again?” you ask, moving to the side to give him space.

Wonwoo nods, cheeks instantly flushing with heat. But there’s no need for embarrassment because you’re sucking in a breath. Seriously, you say “You have no idea how much I like that.”

He doesn’t reply, just fits his body against yours and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets your words wash over him. Sleep comes for him quicker than he wants it, but not before he slides his hand into yours, not before telling you he missed you too. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mascara stains Wonwoo’s pillowcase but right now he doesn’t care. It’s still too early, still dark outside, but this room is hot, his breath is hot, your leg thrown over his waist is hot, and he’s considering just how monumental this is. It’s been almost four years since you touched him like this. In school it started with a ‘one kiss won’t ruin us’ and ended just before university with a ‘are we still friends?’ Way back then you both swore blind that you could just go back to your regular scheduled programming and nothing had to change. An agreement that those brief months you had (not quite) together in high school were just two best friends helping each other out. A mutual understanding that the love you share is completely and utterly platonic, and platonic friends can totally kiss/touch/fuck for a few months without it ruining something more special than sex. Except he didn’t really mean it. The trouble was that Wonwoo knew even then that he wanted something all consuming. Felt it with you. Wasn’t sure if you wanted the same.

Wonwoo is absolutely not spiralling. 

You’re still sound asleep (always are after nights like the last), and his arm is trapped. Back then he’d use this time to bask in you. With you wrapped up in him it was easy to feel like you were completely his. He used to feel like he could do anything to you, and you’d let him. You’d want it, even. Didn’t actually want to take you over but knowing that he could– the intensity of that scared him. Now that feeling doesn’t come, maybe because you’ve had the separation of time and different lovers, he doesn’t know really. He still doesn’t understand what happened before university. Doesn’t get why you stopped coming over when he was so close to unbottling the feelings in his chest. Just knows that the conversation took him by surprise even after a week of distance. Just knows how his chest ached even as he agreed that it’d be sensible to put it all to bed before leaving your sleepy town for the big city. Knows how his gut twisted sharp when you said that just because you were going together didn’t mean you should go together. Maybe he should’ve protested then, showed you how much he needed you. Impossibilities stretch out before him– if it went that way, last night wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be tracing tiny figures of eight on the small of your back right now. If you’d been together then, young and stupid, would you have stood the test of time?

You stir, half roused, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, choosing to be grateful for the now. He pulls your waist closer, runs his hand under your thigh to gently adjust the weight. Your eyes are still closed but you make a soft sound of surprise. 

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Too early,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.” 

“I was dreaming,” you murmur. 

“What about?” 

Your smile is lazy against his skin. “Can’t tell you,” you say. “You’d run away.”

Wonwoo thinks hard about this. “I don’t run away,” he says, quiet and serious. 

You blink open soft eyes to look at him, and Wonwoo feels too much. “Your face is all frozen, Wonwoo,” you say, gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Kiss me. Wish me good morning.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out with more edge than he intends. Doesn’t sound like his own. Feels cheap, something sleazy. Feels tragically guilty about it until he sees the look on your face. Like you want to eat him.

Your gaze is dark when you lock eyes with him. Push up with your hands, straddling his hips, his cock against your rear. You take his hands, larger than yours, place them on your ribcage, push them down down down, making goosebumps pebble along in his wake, until he’s using his thumbs to spread you apart. A little wet already, leaves a slick mark on his skin. He sighs at the sight of it. Your breath comes harder when he plays with your clit. You lean over, say– “Good morning, Wonwoo.” Press a delicate kiss to his top lip. “You’re gonna come inside me this time, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t religious, but he feels like angels made you for him. Tells you so, and you gasp against his mouth. The way you kiss him this time is anything but angelic. Wet. Messy. Sharp teeth leaving imprints on his lips. It hurts. Nice in a way it shouldn’t be. A relief– the way the hurt makes his mind stop. You roll your hips against him and he makes a desperate sort of noise. Keeps his eyes focused on his fingers drawing circles on your clit. Your hands reach behind you to stroke his hardening cock and he arches into your touch. “Needy,” you chastise. Wonwoo nods. 

Doesn’t want it like this. Wants you under him, wants to fuck you slow. Tells you so, the words come anguished, almost– and you nod dumbly. You don’t drag out the build up. Lay on your back, open your legs for him, spread them wide and line his cock up with your wet heat so quick he doesn’t have time to overthink. He makes a strangled sound when he pushes inside. The slide is agonisingly slow. He’s being so careful, as if you’d crack like china - fragile beneath him. You clench around his cock, thick and scalding- God, it’s sweet torture. Wants more of it. 

You pull, desperate, at his waist, rolling your hips against him but he’s pulling out. This time he just slides the head in, hisses, teases, and back out. He does it again, and again, doesn’t know who this teasing is for. He’s licking into your mouth, pressing hungry kisses on your open lips, eating up all your noises, your whines, your soft moans. Things are still the same. He likes going so so deep into you, bottoming out and grinding his skin against your clit, likes when your moan comes muffled in his open wet mouth. It’s the same. Likes when your hands find purchase in the sheets, fist them in desperation, likes when you feel it’s not enough so you grab at his, intertwine your fingers and let him fuck you like this. Like you’re in love. It’s still the same.

“How do you feel, angel?” 

“Uh–” A pause to suck in a fractured breath.

“Tell me how you feel,” he says. Almost begging. Would be mortifying if he whispered that against anyone else’s cheek. Can feel the wetness there too. 

“Homesick,” you gasp. “I feel homesick.”

He fucks you harder then, driving into you so deep he could be part of you. Melt in, blend together, blur the lines, weave the fucking branches. You’re full of spells, he thinks. Made of magic. Doesn’t realise until after that he’s said it aloud. Wet starshine eyes on his as you come apart, pussy pulsing around his cock, impossibly wet, telling him come with me baby, babbling nonsense about how you want it inside, how you need it so bad, how he makes you feel so good. 

Wonwoo really looks at you before he comes. Takes a moment to commit your face to memory. Any time could be the last and he needs this– needs you– to stay with him. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be the same. 

“Like that, Wonwoo” you’re saying, all breathy and high-pitched as he spills into you with a choked whine. “Like when you–” Cum slips out around his cock and he gathers it up on his fingers. Pushes them into your mouth to stop you talking. Can’t bear it. Can’t bear the way your pupils blow out and you lick the cum from his fingers. Can’t stand how his name sounds in your mouth, sweeter, more precious, because there’s something like love coating it. God, he wants to be yours. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo likes your apartment better. Likes the way your sheets start to smell like him too. You’ve always carved out space for him but this time it’s deeper. Likes showering with you here, not to fuck, just to wash away the mess you make of each other. Likes holding you in his arms under the stream, running the lather across your skin, loving kisses pressed against your forehead. Lately he stays here more often than he goes home.

You haven’t said the words yet, neither has he. Doesn’t want to push too much too soon. 

It’s just after nine on Sunday morning, and you’re out of– well, pretty much everything. He offers to go but you insist he stays in bed, hair messed up, sheets pooling in his bare lap, glasses slipping down his nose while he rereads Kafka on the Shore. “Stay just like that,” you say it like a demand, but you’re smiling, pulling a scarf around your neck to run down the street to the shop, maybe stop at the deli for breakfast. “Back in a bit, don’t move an inch.”

A few minutes go by when the shrill of the telephone in the living room punctuates the silence. Wonwoo doesn’t get up to answer, it’d be improper, what if it was your mother? So he lets it ring through to answerphone, and when it clicks on it takes him a moment to recognise the voice calling your name. 

“Are you there? Pick up, darling, pick up.” Wonwoo knows Hongseok has been trying to get back together with you. You’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, how he’d sent flowers. You don’t even like roses.

“I saw you by the river yesterday,” he says. Wonwoo looks up, stares at the wall. You’d insisted on getting out of the apartment, pulled your bodies from soft sheets and into soft sweaters, and Wonwoo only complained a little bit. In truth he loved walking with you. That he can hold your hand in public and no one bats an eye. Loves that you can be his here, that you claim him too. “You’re with him now? How long, darling? Does he fuck you like I do? ” 

Wonwoo scoffs. Hongseok is just jealous. Wonwoo gets it. He does. Even if he’d never dream of saying it.

Hongseok’s voice turns nasty now. “Do you think he’ll stay this time? Does he know you’ve been in love with him this whole time? Everyone else knows. He won’t love you properly, you know. He’s just using you like last time, is he still keeping you a secret? You don’t deserve that, darling. You don’t deserve to be hidden–”

 Is that what you thought? That he hid you? Bile swirls in Wonwoo’s stomach. Does he do that? Did he hurt you?

“–he’s just gonna fuck you up again and you’re gonna be miserable. But he won’t let you be happy with anyone, will he? Selfish fucking prick, he’s so cruel to you. You don’t see it, do you? It’s pathetic how fucking dumb you are for him–”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was cruel. There is spit pooling in his mouth, his stomach churns. Is he cruel to you?

The line clicks off as Hongseok spits out every name under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear the rest as he retches into your bathroom sink. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Forty minutes later, you’re calling out to Wonwoo that you’re home as you kick off your shoes. “I got us bagels, do you want the salmon cream cheese or the egg and ba- oh! You’re up.”

Wonwoo sits on your sofa in soft sweats and a baggy white t-shirt. His skin and hair are damp from the shower. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot. “You okay?” you ask, tentatively. 

“Hmm,” he says. “Didn’t feel too good earlier.”

“Poor you,” you say. “Will breakfast make you feel better?”

“No, sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “I think I should head home. Don’t wanna give you a bug.”

You laugh softly, unpacking the groceries from the bags. “You spat in my mouth last night, if you’ve got something then I’ll have it in no time,” you say. “C’mon, stay. I’ll look after you. I’ll make soup.”

But Wonwoo is already standing, pulls a little money from his wallet and leaves it on the table. “What’s that for?”

“Breakfast,” he says. “Feel bad you bought all this and I need to go.”

You frown. “Stop being strange, I don’t care about the food, just get the next one.”

Wonwoo sighs. He’s annoyed, you realise. This is weird.

In the end you let him leave without drama, but not without a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it a little longer than usual. Closes his eyes as he hugs you goodbye. 

You eat breakfast alone. TV on, sound off, wondering what the fuck even happened before you notice the light of your answerphone flickering. 

New message, left 09:21: 

Hi Sweetheart! It’s your aunt’s birthday next week, just calling to remind you to send a card. Call me back, okay, love you, bye!

End of messages.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Yn, come on,” he said, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. The comforting weight of it anchored you, even as you felt your nerves spiraling all over the place. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that was almost disarming. “We’ll just ride through the streets,” he assured, “and I’ll go slow.”

His thumb moved in gentle circles as he spoke, a small, mindless motion that shouldn’t have been so calming but somehow was. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself under his touch.

There was a pause as you studied him. Wonwoo’s expression was earnest, his words reassuring. As much as your cautious side screamed at you to refuse, another part of you—the part that, unfortunately, trusted him—nudged you forward. Maybe this could actually be fun?

“Promise you’ll be careful?” you asked again, needing to hear it one more time.

“Absolutely,” he replied without hesitation, his voice firm.

With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed his backpack. It was heavier than expected, filled with a mix of his and your belongings, but it was manageable. “Let’s hope this thing even fits me,” you muttered, reaching for the helmet.

Sliding it on took more effort than you’d anticipated. The snug fit surprised you, given how helmets aren’t exactly one-size-fits-all. Probably just pure luck, you thought.

Wonwoo stepped closer to help secure the straps. His hands worked deftly, and before you realized it, his face was mere inches from yours. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you silently thanked the helmet for concealing your embarrassment. The last thing you wanted was to feed his already-inflated ego.

But as he adjusted the straps, you noticed the smaller details of his face—the faint blemishes, the tiny imperfections that only seemed to make him more human. More real.

“Having fun?” His voice broke through your thoughts. 

You blinked, refocusing on his smirking face. That smirk—arrogant yet endearing—should be trademarked at this point.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, attempting to salvage your pride. “I can still back out, you know.”

Wonwoo chuckled, clearly unimpressed by your empty threat. “And yet, here you are.”

You rolled your eyes, choosing silence instead of fighting back. You distracted yourself with the weather. The air carried a light warmth, a preview of spring’s arrival. Clouds lingered from last night’s rain, their soft edges catching hints of sunlight. It was, admittedly, a perfect day for a ride.

The growl of the engine pulled your attention back to the present. Wonwoo glanced at you, his helmet obscuring most of his face but not the playful tilt of his head.

“Ynnn,” he drawled, motioning for you to get on.

“Uh,” you hesitated, awkwardly gesturing at the bike. “How do I…?”

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Okay, first, stand on the left side. Put your foot here.” He tapped the footpeg. “Then swing your other leg over.”

You followed his instructions, pausing halfway. God, this was nerve-wracking. 

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m keeping the bike steady. Just hold onto me if you need to.”

Summoning your courage, you followed his instructions and managed to climb onto the bike. It wasn’t as bad as you’d imagined.

“Good,” Wonwoo praised. “Now, scoot closer to me so we can balance better.”

Your arms hovered uncertainly around his waist.

With a light chuckle, he reached back and pulled your arms firmly around him. “Like this,” he said, tapping your hands lightly.

The closeness made your heart race even more. You prayed he couldn’t feel it through his jacket.

Wonwoo adjusted his helmet and then turned slightly to playfully bump it against yours. He gave you a double thumbs-up, silently asking if you were ready.

Well, you’ve come this far, you thought. No turning back now.

With a deep sigh, you returned the gesture.

The bike jerked forward gently, easing into motion. Wonwoo kept the speed low at first, giving you time to adjust. As he twisted the accelerator, the wind began to rush past, carrying your nerves with it. 

The city unfolded around you, familiar streets taking on a new perspective. The freedom of the ride was exhilarating, the hum of the engine a steady reassurance to your being. Despite your initial hesitance, you felt… safe.

You tightened your hold on Wonwoo as the bike picked up speed, your heart pounding—not just from the ride but from his proximity and the warmth radiating through his jacket.

For the duration of the ride, neither of you spoke. Well, it’s not like you could, anyway. The world blurred in a rush of motion and colors, leaving you breathless in the best way.

And… when the bike finally came to a stop, you almost wished it hadn’t.

Wonwoo set the kickstand down and turned off the engine. He glanced back at you, smirking as he noticed your arms still wrapped tightly around him.

“Enjoying yourself, huh?”

Flustered, you quickly let go and tried to dismount without his help, only to stumble halfway.

“Careful,” he said, steadying you with a hand on your waist, “don’t want you getting hurt now, do we?” And with that, he hopped off the bike with ease, extending his hand like it was second nature.

Taking his hand, you let him guide you off the bike; your legs felt wobbly, but you managed to stand nonetheless.

“How was the ride?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled through the helmet.

“It was…” you said as you both pulled off your helmets, the sound of the world rushing back to your ears. “…it was actually kind of fun.”

Wonwoo grinned, happy with your response. “Told you so.”

There was a beat or two where you just looked at each other, not knowing what else to say. 

With little reluctance, you held out the helmet with both hands, feeling oddly shy. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it,” you said softly.

He took the helmet, his fingers briefly brushing yours. “You kind of needed it.” 

Ugh, there he goes!

“I regret ever saying anything,” you groaned out, already making your way past him.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, too busy basking in his victory 

As you made your way inside the elevator, you couldn’t resist the urge to tease him back. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

He shrugged casually. “Just following my backpack,” he murmured, giving a light tug on the grab handle of his backpack—the one that you forgot you had on.

Oh.

“If you just wanted to invite me over, you could have said so.” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was thoroughly amused with himself.

You huffed in annoyance, there was no winning when it came to him. “Just shut up.”

You shrugged off his backpack, taking your squished tote from its confines. “Here you go! Now you can go on your way.”

Wonwoo laughed at your little attitude. “Well, now that I’m here… it would be rude to just have you walk alone, wouldn’t it?”

While you would be more strict on letting a guy walk you to your apartment—more for privacy and safety reasons—you couldn’t help but be more lenient for Wonwoo. Part of you thinks that it’s due to knowing him for many years, but you know that wouldn’t be the complete truth.

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. 

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Cat got your tongue?”

You didn’t say anything, only opting to flip him off as a response.

The elevator finally dinged, and you stepped out, leading him down the hallway. When you reached your door, you turned to face him fiddling with the handle. “Well, this is me. Thanks again for today, Wonwoo. Really.”

He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “Anytime.”

And just as you were about to respond to him, the sound of an apartment door—more specifically yours—creaked wide open. 

The sight of Yubin standing in the doorway startled you, and you stepped aside just as Sohee appeared behind her, holding a cup of coffee.

The pair froze at the sight of Wonwoo by the door.

“Oh,” Yubin said slowly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Didn’t realize you were… busy.”

“Oh—I’m not!” you managed to blurt out. “I mean, we’re not. We just…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward nothing.

“Right,” Yubin said, her tone neutral but laced with that teasing tone you’ve grown accustomed to. 

You groaned inwardly, knowing they wanted an introduction. “This is Wonwoo,” you mumbled, motioning toward him. “He’s an old friend.”

“Old friend?” Yubin repeated, her tone still teasing. “And I was beginning to think that you didn’t have any friends besides us…”

You shot her a glare. “Well, we only knew each other back then—”

Sohee’s eyes widened as she continued to look at you and Wonwoo. “Oh my god! Yubin, it’s that Wonwoo!” She said as she violently shook Yubin’s shoulders.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the cute dynamic between the three of you. He also couldn’t help but feel more interested to know about what you may have told them about him.

“Didn’t know you spoke about me, birdy,” he piped in, looking directly into your eyes.

“She actua—” Sohee started, but you quickly covered her mouth with your hands, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

“Relax. We’re just messing with you,” Yubin said, giving you a playful nudge. Her attention turned back to Wonwoo. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat, but we were actually heading to the library. Don’t have too much fun, you two.”

“Yubin!” you hissed as she sauntered past, Sohee close behind.

“See you later, Yn. Don’t let the rain get to you, Wonwoo!” Sohee called over her shoulder, shooting you one last knowing grin before disappearing down the hallway. Rain?

As the door softly clicked shut, you were left in an almost suffocating silence. You exhaled heavily, your cheeks still burning from the encounter.

“Your roommates seem fun,” Wonwoo said, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Very,” you agreed almost instantly.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You know,” he said casually, “I don’t mind being teased, especially if it’s about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fumbled for a response. “That’s… I mean… they’re just—”

“Glad to know that you talk about me, though,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

You blinked, your breath catching. 

His smile deepened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something else. But instead, he straightened himself and stepped back. “Although, what’s this about rain?… Wasn’t it just sunny when we got here?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure either, I was kind of confused by that too.”

Wonwoo only hummed. “Well, a little rain never hurt anyone.”

Maybe he was right, a little rain wasn’t the end of the world. If anything, it should be sprinkling at most right now. The weather can’t change that fast.

“I’ll see you on Sunday?” he said, ruffling your hair a bit.

You swatted at his hand only to reply with a meek, “Sure.”

With that, he turned on his heel, slipping out into the hallway. You watched as he walked back to the elevator, hands in his pockets, before finally shutting your apartment door. 

A little bit after Wonwoo had left, you decided to change into something more comfortable, opting for sweats and an oversized shirt. You put on one of your favorite shows for background noise only to notice how loud the it was outside. 

Wanting to see, you went over to the window near the kitchen, peeling back the curtain slightly—the sky was considerably darker than before. 

Your brows furrowed. Huh?

The rain was coming down in thick sheets now, the wind faintly whistling as it rattled the nearby street signs. That was weird. It hadn’t even been a full thirty minutes since you came in with Wonwoo, and now it was pouring? The sight of it made your stomach churn in concern. 

“A little rain never hurt anyone.”

You sighed. What an idiot. 

Still, he was an adult. He could take care of himself. You turned away from the window, trying to ignore the pit growing in your stomach. He’ll be fine.

To take your mind off of him, you decided to pull out some of your favorite candles—to help boost that rainy day ambiance, at least.

While lighting them up, you heard a loud knock at your door. 

Then another. The second knock was a lot louder this time. Frantic, if anything. 

Hesitant, you made your way to the door, checking to see who it was through the peephole, only for it to be Wonwoo. Ha.

Opening the door, you immediately burst into a fit of laughter—he was completely drenched. His black jacket clung to him, rainwater dripping from the ends of his hair, strands plastered to his forehead. His face was set in a deadpan expression, unamused by your amusement.

“Oh my God,” you wheezed, covering your mouth. “What happened to ‘a little rain never hurt anyone’?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, peeling his wet jacket off. “Are you going to keep laughing, or are you going to let me in?”

You pretended to think for a minute, tapping your chin as if you were in deep thought. “Hmm.”

Annoyed, Wonwoo began to move away from you—only for you to catch his wrist and drag him inside. “Yeah, okay, fine. I’m only doing this because you look pathetic.”

He muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue. You shut the door behind him, shaking your head as you turned to look at him again.

“You should’ve just left when you had the chance,” you teased, disappearing into the hallway closet. You returned a moment later with a clean towel, tossing it at him.

He caught it effortlessly, rubbing it over his face and hair before sighing. “It wasn’t that bad at first. But then the wind picked up like crazy, so I just ended up covering my bike.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh.

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

You grinned back at him. “No, you don’t.”

He didn’t respond, just continued to dry his hair before reaching for the hem of his soaked shirt. You turned away before he pulled it over his head, quickly rummaging through your dresser for something dry. Eventually, you found another oversized t-shirt and sweatpants—courtesy of your ex-boyfriend from many years ago.

“Here,” you said, handing it over without looking. “Change before you get sick.”

He raised a brow. “This yours?”

“No, it’s Casper’s,” you deadpanned. “Yes, of course, it’s mine! The bathroom is the first door to the right. Now go.” He didn’t need to know the truth…

Wonwoo only hummed, clearly amused by your response. He grabbed the set of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

As he changed, you busied yourself in the kitchen, setting water to boil for tea. The rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, filling the space with a soothing ambiance.

By the time Wonwoo returned—his hair was still slightly damp, but he looked much warmer—he accepted the mug you handed him without question. You led him towards the couch since the kitchen was too cluttered for your liking. For a few minutes, the two of you simply sat there, comfortably sipping your drinks. 

“That’s a lot better,” he admitted. 

You hummed in agreement. And then, just when you thought the moment would pass without incident—

“So,” he said, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Your roommates seemed very familiar with me.”

You groaned. “Seriously? We’re back to this again?”

“Uh-huh.” He stretched, letting out a satisfied chuckle. “Any hint to what you have been saying about me?”

You glared at him. “That you’re super annoying.”

He grinned. “And…?”

“I plead the fifth!”

His smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Your face burned. “That’s not—”

Wonwoo shifted closer, fingers grazing yours, his voice dropping ever so slightly. “It’s cute, birdy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

The smirk on Wonwoo’s face lingered, but his eyes darkened slightly, scanning your expression like he was waiting—for you to pull away, for you to say something, for anything that might indicate that you don’t want to explore this with him.

But you didn’t move.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The warmth of his hand near yours suddenly felt scorching, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, setting every nerve on fire.

“Birdy,” he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue softer this time, almost teasing but laced with something else—something heavier.

You swallowed hard. “You’re so—”

But before you could finish your sentence, Wonwoo closed the distance.

His lips pressed against yours—light at first, testing, lingering just long enough to make your stomach flip. But the second you melted into it, his restraint snapped.

Wonwoo moved fast, one hand slipping around your waist while the other cradled the side of your face, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss. He tasted like the tea you had made for him earlier mixed with something distinctly him—something you knew you would crave later. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to make up for all of the times he had almost kissed you but didn’t.

And God, he kissed like he meant it.

Your fingers fisted the fabric of his borrowed shirt, pulling him closer. Wonwoo groaned softly at the movement, the sound low and utterly wrecking. His grip on you tightened as he shifted, guiding you back until your arm met the cushions near the armrest. 

He hovered over you now, his body pressed deliciously close, his weight grounding you in a way that made your head spin. His knee slotted between your legs, just barely brushing against you, the contact sending shivers down your spine.

Wonwoo pulled back for a brief moment, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb traced along your jaw, his eyes flickering between yours, searching. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice hoarse, “and I will.”

That was the last thing you wanted, you needed Wonwoo right now.

Instead of answering him, you surged forward, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring his lips down to yours again. This time, it was you who deepened the kiss, pressing your body against his in a way that made his breath stutter.

“Shit,” he muttered against your mouth, his hand sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing over the skin of your waist. He wasn’t rushing anything—just feeling, mapping out every reaction, every sharp inhale, every soft noise you let slip past your lips.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and Wonwoo let out a strained curse under his breath before pressing his lips to your neck, trailing heated kisses along your jawline. 

“Didn’t think you’d ever let me get this close,” he murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Felt generous today.” You replied casually, trying to hide your nerves.

His low chuckle vibrated against your throat, and then his teeth grazed against your pulse point, making your fingers dig into his shoulders. “How lucky of me.”

Your mind was sent into a frenzy—you didn’t know where this was leading to. But the way his hands were gripping your waist, combined with the heat of his kisses, you knew that this was something neither of you wanted to stop anytime soon.

And, judging by the way he whispered your name before claiming your lips again, you weren’t going to.

Wonwoo’s lips were relentless, moving against yours like a starved man. Every touch, every press of his fingers against your skin was filled with desire or frustration—one of the two, the weight of whatever had been building between you for far too long taking over.

But then came a sharp knock at the door.

Your entire body tensed. Wonwoo stilled too, his breath fanning against your neck as you both listened—a beat of silence, then muffled voices passing by in the hallway.

Your heart pounded in fear.

Wonwoo exhaled a quiet laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. “We should—” He sucked in a breath when you shifted against him, his fingers tightening on your hips. “—probably move this to your room.”

It took a second a second for you to fully process what he was saying, your mind still fogged with the way he was pressed against you. But then reality hit—your roommates. If they came home right now, they’d find you both tangled up on the couch, and you would never hear the end of it.

You hesitated, but Wonwoo tilted his head, watching you carefully. “Unless you’re into that…” he teased, voice lower now, rougher.

You glared at him, but the effect was lost when he playfully nipped at your jaw. “Freak,” you muttered, shoving at his shoulder. “Come on.”

There was a flicker of something dark in his eyes before he pulled away from you, allowing you to grab his wrist and lead him to your room.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, Wonwoo had you against it almost immediately.

The kiss that followed was hotter and messier. His hands were a lot bolder now, skimming beneath your shirt, fingers tracing over your heated skin like he was trying to memorize every detail. You gasped against his lips when he grabbed the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist again.

“Fuck,” he muttered, guiding you toward your bed. “You’re making this so hard for me.”

You barely had time to process the words before your back met the mattress, Wonwoo hovering above you, his weight deliciously solid between your thighs, hips rutting up slowly—testing the waters. His lips were on you again in an instant, trailing from your jaw down to your neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just beneath your ear.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, voice husky.

Your breath hitched when his hands slipped up, thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of your ribs. You weren’t sure if he meant the teasing, the back-and-forth banter, or just the fact that you were here now, beneath him, letting this happen. 

Maybe all of it.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. The sound sent a thrill through your body, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“I guess I could say the same about you,” you managed to whisper in response.

Wonwoo chuckled, his nose brushing against your collarbone before he kissed along the exposed skin, each press of his lips making your pulse stutter.

Minutes blurred together—clothes shifted, touches became more desperate. Heat swirled between the two of you, every movement of his pulling you further into the haze of want.

But just as things started to pick up again, Wonwoo suddenly slowed down.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wonwoo?”

His fingers skimmed along your arm before stopping at your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Are you sure?”

“About?”

“This.” He exhaled sharply, like he was forcing himself to hold back. “I don’t want to rush you, that’s all.”

Your chest tightened at his words.

Despite the heat of the moment, despite how badly you knew he wanted you, he was still thinking about you.

Your fingers trailed up his spine, grounding yourself in the warmth of him. The intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip, but you found yourself nodding. “Please.”

A flicker of something—relief, maybe—crossed his expression before he kissed you again, slower this time, softer.

He pulled away again, but before you could complain, he was already tugging at your sweats and underwear.

You helped him slide them off by moving your hips upward, anxiously waiting for his next move.

Wonwoo sat up, throwing your clothing to the ground. Feeling overly exposed, you tugged at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. Balance it out, you know?

He let out a low chuckle at your insistence but didn’t hesitate to peel his shirt off, tossing it somewhere near your pile. Your fingers instinctively traced over his toned stomach, feeling the heat radiating beneath your touch.

His lips were on you in an instant—starting at your mouth, then trailing down the column of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He took his time pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then lower, his hands mapping out the curves of your body as he went.

Your breath hitched when he reached your stomach, his lips grazing over sensitive skin. His fingers splayed over your waist, holding you in place as he continued downward, his mouth painting a slow, deliberate path. The anticipation was dizzying, every brush of his lips making you ache for more.

When he finally settled between your thighs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours—searching, waiting for permission.

You quickly nod, needing him now more than ever.

With your approval, he moved his arms down toward your thighs, his fingers gently pressing into the soft flesh, pulling you closer to him. His breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he made sure to take his time with you.

He started off slow, pressing fluttering kisses near your cunt, his lips barely brushing the sensitive skin, his touch featherlight. The softness of his kisses was a gentle reminder of the tenderness between you both, teasing as well as coaxing you into the moment.

As the seconds passed, he grew more confident, his mouth finding its rhythm, draggin a long, slow lick up to your clit, the pressure light at first but just enough to make your breath catch. Your body arched instinctively toward him, a soft moan escaping your lips, and you found yourself pulling him closer, urging him on.

Wonwoo’s movements were deliberate and controlled, but there was an undeniable hunger in the way he continued, each kiss, each lick sending waves of pleasure through your body. His tongue circled around you, experimenting, drawing out every inch of pleasure as you melted into the feeling.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his tongue moved with purpose, the sensation making your hips instinctively buck upward. Each time his mouth pressed against you, your body trembled, and a heat bloomed deep within you.

Wonwoo’s hands tightened around your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue flicked and teased, bringing you closer to the edge. He was deliberate, each movement calculated, but there was a sense of urgency in the way his lips parted against you, the hunger in his eyes evident as he looked up at you, gauging your reactions.

You could feel the tension building inside of you, coiling tight as he slowly dragged his tongue up again, swirling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth with a steady pull. Your breath hitched at the sensation, the pressure mounting, your chest rising and falling with each sharp inhale.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “Please, more.”

His eyes darkened at your plea. He didn’t need another invitation. His hands moved up your body, pulling you closer, urging you to open yourself to him fully.

The way his mouth devoured you, his movements were more urgent now; he was like a drug, leaving you with no control over your reactions. You clutched at his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he took you higher and higher. 

You were on the brink, so close, your body tense with anticipation. With one final flick of his tongue, your hips jerked as you reached the edge, a breathless cry escaping you as you finally shattered, your body shaking as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

He didn’t stop; instead, he slowed down, licking you gently, helping you ride out the waves. His mouth soft and tender as he continued to kiss and soothe you, his hands never leaving your body.

As you came down from your high, your body still tingling, Wonwoo didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed lingering kisses along your inner thighs, his lips warm and teasing as he worked his way back up. The slow drag of his mouth against your skin sent another shiver through you, anticipation curling in your stomach all over again.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with something smug yet fond. His hands slid up, fingertips ghosting over your waist before settling on your hips. “Didn’t know you could be this sensitive.”

You wanted to fire back with something, but your brain was too mushy to come up with anything, your body still trying to recover from the way he’d completely unraveled you. Instead, you groaned and weakly pushed at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Wonwoo only chuckled, low and throaty, before he crawled back over you, his weight pressing into you in the best way. His knee slotted between your thighs, his bare chest warm against yours. You barely had a moment to adjust before you felt it—his hard length pressing against your thigh through his sweats.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you shifted slightly, feeling the way he twitched against you. “You’re really worked up, huh?”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched, his arms bracketing your head as he hovered over you. “What do you think?” His voice was strained, deeper, and it sent a thrill down your spine.

To test him, you shifted your hips ever so slightly, dragging against him. He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Yn,” he warned, but there was no real threat behind it—just desperation.

Grinning, you reached up, threading your fingers into his hair. His breath hitched as you gave a small tug, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut for a brief second before snapping open again, darker and hungrier than before.

“You like that?” you mused, your voice teasing.

He didn’t answer, but the way he groaned, pressing his hips down against yours in response, told you enough.

“God,” he muttered, dropping his forehead against yours. “You’re going to kill me.”

You giggled but quickly gasped when he rolled his hips again, this time more deliberately, seeking friction. The warmth of him, the weight, the sheer neediness of it all made your head spin.

His hands found yours, fingers slipping between yours as he pinned them against the mattress. His grip was firm, grounding, like he needed to hold onto you just as much as you needed to hold onto him.

“I should make you pay for teasing me,” he murmured, lips brushing against your cheek before trailing lower, nipping at your jawline.

You hummed, squeezing his hands as he continued to kiss his way down your neck. “I think you’re the one who’s suffering here, not me.”

Wonwoo huffed a soft laugh against your skin. “That so?” His hips rutted against you again, a little more desperate this time, his breath coming out uneven. “Feel that?”

You did. You felt all of him—hot and aching against you, his restraint slipping with each passing second.

“Tell me what you want, Yn,” he rasped, lips brushing against your collarbone.

Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his hands. “I think you already know.”

Wonwoo groaned, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he rutted against you again, the friction between you both drawing sharp little gasps from you. His hands released yours, only for one to slip under your shirt, fingers toying with your breast as if he was trying to ground himself with it. The other trailed up your thigh, slow and deliberate, before he hooked it around his waist.

You tangled your fingers in his hair again, tugging just enough to make him hiss. He retaliated by rolling his hips down again, sharper this time, making you whimper in response.

“Still want to tease me?” he murmured against your skin.

You bit your lip, barely holding back a whine. “Maybe.”

He scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist as a warning.

Wonwoo shifted again, suddenly sitting back on his heels, dragging you up with him. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you against his chest as he settled you onto his lap.

“Better,” he mumbled, his hands soothing over your bare thighs as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Easier to hear you like this.” 

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t deny the way your body reacted to his words, the way the need between your legs only grew worse.

His hands slipped under your shirt again, his palms warm against your back, and when he kissed you this time, it was slower, deeper. He let you set the pace, guiding the way your hips moved against his, taking his time with you.

You gasped as his hands roamed, tracing gentle but deliberate patterns along your spine. His kisses grew more languid, as if he wanted to take his time memorizing every inch of you, every shuddering gasp you gave him.

You moved against him again, chasing that intoxicating friction, and he groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, breath warm against your lips. “You feel so good—”

A shiver wracked through you at his words, the heat between you becoming unbearable. You tugged at his hair again, earning a delicious groan from him as his hips stuttered beneath you.

The rhythm between you both turned desperate, more frantic, your hands clinging to each other as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach. Wonwoo’s forehead dropped against yours, his breaths coming in short, unsteady pants, his grip on you firm as he chased his own high.

“Wonwoo—” his name slipped from your lips, a breathless plea.

“I know,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to your temple, his movements growing more erratic. “I got you, birdy—just let go for me.”

The sound of his voice alone nearly undid you, and when he dipped his hand between you, adding just enough pressure where you needed it most, your body tensed before unraveling completely. A sharp cry left your lips as pleasure crashed over you, your nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him.

Wonwoo wasn’t far behind. The way you trembled in his arms, the way you moaned his name like it was the only thing you knew—it sent him over the edge, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he buried his face in your neck, riding out his own high. His grip on you tightened before slowly loosening, his breath shaky as he tried to come down from it.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths. Your bodies were still tangled together, skin damp with sweat.

“I’ll be right back,” Wonwoo whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before slipping out of bed. You watched as he padded out of your room and toward the bathroom. 

He returned a few minutes later, looking more at ease now that he had cleaned himself off. Then, without warning, he flopped back onto the mattress, draping himself over you dramatically.

“Wonwoo—” you groaned, squirming as he pressed his weight against you.

“Shhh,” he murmured against your neck. “Just let me have this.”

“You smell like sweat,” you deadpanned, but your hand was already threading through his hair.

You sighed; your body was still jittery from the intensity of everything, but the pressure of his body against yours was grounding. Wonwoo shifted slightly, pulling you close. His hand moved up to cup your face, thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You good?” His voice softened, and for a moment, the teasing tone melted away.

You hummed in response, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mhm… just a little tired.”

He chuckled softly, his breath tickling your ear. “Me too.”

You shifted, nuzzling closer to him, and he responded by pulling you even tighter against him, his warmth lulling you deeper into sleep.

And as the night stretched on, with his steady heartbeat beneath your ear and his arms wrapped securely around you, you let yourself relax completely—safe in his warmth.

Silence settled between you, the heat from his body lulling you toward sleep. And just before you drifted off, you swore you felt him press the softest kiss against your forehead.

When you woke up the following morning, the other side of your bed was empty. 

Your heart dropped at the coldness from it. For a second, a pang of something—disappointment? hurt?—settled in your chest. Was this a mistake?

Before you could even wallow in self-pity, you noticed one of your sticky notes clung to your phone.

Had an early shift today. See you on Sunday :)

And while you were conflicted about last night’s events, you couldn’t help the feeling of relief you felt from the note. 

A sigh escaped you as you sank back into the pillows, only to realize that his scent was now embedded in your bed. Great.

Sunday.

You have no idea what to expect when you see him again, but one thing is certain—there is no going back to how things were before, well, not for you at least.

…

Part Four: Coming Soon…

[☻] hiii! i know i already left a note, but i just wanted to shout out @stendy4life for reminding me that people were actually waiting for part 3! also big thanks to @cherry-zip and @facethesunflower (again) for pushing me to finish this part <333

He nods, setting the bouquet on the counter for her to bill it. “How are your knee pains today?” He watches her shaky fingers pressing the keypad of the new billing machine. She gives up after two forceful presses. Wonwoo laughs at her cussing the new technology. 

“It’s 58,328 won.” 

Wonwoo hands over the money, picking up his bouquet, “see you tomorrow, grannie.” He bows in respect. 

She chuckles, “send my love to your lucky girlfriend. Who buys flowers everyday these days.”

He smiles in return, a red tint of color on his cheeks. He looks down at the flowers in his hands only in hopes of his girlfriend liking them. He has been researching the language of flowers, daisies means innocence, loyal love and sunflowers means adoration. Perfect flowers to translate his feelings towards her. 

“I try,” he answers, giving one last bow and exiting the small flower shop. 

He drives to the subway station, constantly checking the status of your subway, and your live location on the maps. You are almost there, he presses on the accelerator, he needs to be at the platform even before you. Your surprised happy expression is all he needs after a long exhausting day. 

Parking the car he hurries among the dry and depressed office workers navigating to their homes. The train will be at the station in five minutes, he runs to platform C, apologising and saying excuse me to the crowd, while protecting the flowers with his entire body. 

He huffs, stabilising his breathing and checks his watch one more minute. He rearranges the flowers, smoothing down the petals, his heart pounding in anticipation and fear. He adjusts his hair, pressing on his gelled hair on the side, to make sure he looks presentable. 

One minute is up, and the train is slowing down to a stop. He holds the flowers to his chest, craning his neck to see you amongst the crowd stepping down from the train. 

He cracks into a big smile, waving at your wandering gaze that’s also searching for him. You spot him, your droopy shoulders squared up, your eyes shining and there it is, the hop in your steps. A man pushes her to the side, losing her balance for two steps, and Wonwoo’s giddiness disappears for a second. 

You shake your head, and Wonwoo stops in his tracks, still glaring at the disappearing man into the crowd. His girl reaches him, holding his arm and tiptoeing to kiss on his cheek. A grin breaks his anger, he looks down at his shoes, biting on his lip. 

He extends the flowers to you. You beam at the flowers, looming over them enjoying their fresh scent among the sweaty, stinky smell of the subway station. You grab the flowers hugging it to your chest, as you brush your cheek over the flowers tenderly. 

Wonwoo grabs your waist, pulling you in, he drops a kiss on your head. “How was your day?” 

“It’s good now,” you loop an arm around him, hiding yourself in his chest, near his armpit. Wonwoo shakes his head at the weird attachment you have with that area. 

He leads the way to his car, as you search for the meaning of the flowers. He briefly glances at your phone, helping you choose the right links. 

“Innocent, loyal love?” You don’t look up from the phone. Wonwoo also drops his head to the floor, his grip on your shoulder tightening. “Adoration?” 

He brushes the pink shade on your cheeks with his forefingers. You stop, bringing him to a stop in the middle of the stairs too. You climb a step to match his height, you cup his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I adore you too. And,” you kiss his forehead, “I love you.” 

You stood in front of the TV after pressing play on your phone, making him yell at you to move aside because he can’t see the game. “Wait, I have something to show you,” you proclaim and he raises an eyebrow at you. You hesitate for a second as you gaze into his eyes but shake it off quickly. You’ve been best friends practically your entire life, what could go wrong? 

You grab the bottom of your top, pulling it up and revealing your breast. Kai’s eyes widen immediately and when you don’t pull your shirt back down, he averts his eyes. “What-What the hell?” He asks, his face turning red. “You can’t just…What are you doing?” 

You roll your shirt back on, laughing as you walk over to your phone to turn off the video. “It’s a tiktok trend,” you proclaim casually, rewatching the video to see his reaction. You laugh again at his flushed cheeks, shaking your head. You turn around to face him, your eyes widening at how embarrassed he looks. “No biggie, right?” 

“No biggie?” He looks at you again, exhaling when he sees your calm face. You really didn’t get it did you? You didn’t understand what you did to him, what his head was going to do with the newly explored piece of your body. “A biggie.” 

You frown, putting your phone aside. “It was just a joke, and they aren’t that big anyway, no need to make a huge deal about it,” you mumble, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His eyes widen again, processing what you just said. “Aren’t that big? Are you crazy?” You raise an eyebrow at him confusedly, trying to see through him to figure out what he is thinking about. 

“I mean they…” you hesitate as you gaze into his eyes, swallowing the rest of your sentence nervously. “What?” 

“You think those aren’t big?” You have to blink a few times at his question, glancing down. It feels like you’re being lectured for some reason, which might seem ironic considering Kair was a blushing mess just a second ago. Your hands come up to cup your boobs, examining them for a second. “You think they are?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He doesn’t say anything so you raise your head again, finding him staring at your breast as you hold your boobs, his eyes glued to your body. His cheeks are still red, but he seems less nervous now. He blinks quickly a few times to get himself to focus again, looking you in the eyes. He nods, and you feel your whole body heating up. “Do you wanna…Do you wanna touch them?” You ask when you see his eyes trailing down to your chest again, as if he was pulled to them by a magnet. 

Kai hesitates, his eyes flickering between your breast and eyes. You said one thing, but would it really be okay for him to do so? He wasn’t sure. But when you don’t take your offer back after a few seconds of silence, he moves closer to you, the gaming console long forgotten somewhere beside him. 

You pull your shirt down completely this time, letting it fall on the floor as you shift in your place, carefully observing your best friend as he cautiously moves toward you. He sits down right in front of you, searching for any sign of discomfort in your eyes. When he doesn’t find any, he takes a deep breath, pointing on his lap. “Move here,” he whispers and without saying anything, you listen. 

Sitting on his lap, you tilt your head to the side as he cups your breast, your nipples falling right in between his fingers. He is prudent with them, looking up to see your reaction after every little squeeze. It’s not until he hears a moan leave your lips that his mind short circuits, his fingers rubbing onto your nipples with more force, needing to hear more from you. 

“You can–You can do more,” you assure him, biting your bottom lip to constrain your moans. He nods, leaning closer as his thumb rubs over your right nipple. He takes your breast in his mouth, his tongue making circles around your nipple. You swallow hard, your breath hitching. He’s so good, you’re not sure if you want him to ever stop. 

And so, you sit on the edge of your bed until you lose track of time. You’re not sure if it’s been minutes or hours, but your nipples are swollen and covered in bites when you finally get off him, your heart beating fast as you gaze into his eyes. There was no way you could act like Kai was just your best friend now.

But mornings like these, the ones where there isn’t an agenda other than to just waste the day away, you miss him. You miss tossing in the bedsheets, turning to meet your gaze with his; soft brown eyes that resembled the burning wood in a campfire, pools of hot chocolate in cups during the winter with a marshmallow in each serving, and the walnuts he’d attempt to fling into your mouth from across the couch before the two of you would laugh breathlessly when he would miss and hit another part of your face. His hair would always be messy; stray strands poking up analogous to antennes, and you’d poke fun, asking if he was receiving any signal from the satellite from above. There was the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that filled the room, the sizzle of the eggs that hit the heated pan on the stove, and the smile that beamed so brightly sitting in front of you at the kitchen table seemed to be a lost piece of your life, one you don’t think you’d ever get the chance of seeing again.

Not all loves last, you learn wistfully, and remembering the day he shut the door of your apartment behind him with his duffle bag in hand and a backpack that sat atop his shoulders, it’s a reminder that he’s really gone. There’s no big, flamboyant gesture that you could do to bring him back, and if you really wanted to, a portion of you knows that this is what he wishes for. To be apart. You respect him too much to put him in another uncomfortable position by asking if he could stay.

Glancing over at your phone screen, you groan. 12:31PM. 

You’ve been laying here for what feels like forever, but the forty minutes that you assumed is a measly five.

The smell of breakfast and coffee, the loud clutters from the pans under the cabinets that used to come from outside your bedroom, and the exchanged delicate kisses during these mornings weren’t there anymore, and they haven’t been for two years now.

So why the fuck are you still thinking about them?

Rubbing your face tiredly, you force yourself to sit up on your bed. He’s not here, and he hasn’t been here in a while, and the fact that the memories still haunt your thoughts like a bad dream is frustrating. Why would he still infiltrate your head like he belongs there, like he deserves to be there, when he hasn’t been here physically in two years? He’s like a plague you can’t seem to cure yourself from, and even if you did, remnants of him prevail. You’d think you’d have the antibodies or something and your system could get rid of him before it takes over.

Maybe you’ll catch up on laundry, possibly do something today instead of nothing so that your head could be too busy to think of anything else. Toothbrush in hand and staring at yourself through the mirror, you’ve caught yourself once again pondering why he would pop in your head again when you’ve been doing so well lately. Shaking yourself from these thoughts, you went on with your morning routine. Brush, facewash, and skincare. 

The thought of coffee crosses your mind again, this time, you’re contemplating if you’re favoring ordering delivery or opting to make a cup for yourself.

Unlocking your phone, you skim through the pages of your homescreen before your finger hovers the Instagram icon. Purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow, who knew a square with a plethora of colors could weigh so heavy on your heart. Barely a month ago, you scrolled through the app casually before that familiar username pops up, one that used to sit in your direct messages almost daily, now hidden deep in your history. He posts a picture that seems like forever ago since he last did, the image of him with the silhouette of a pretty girl is on your feed and you could almost hear your heart audibly crack.

You’ve moved on. So why were you still aching?

Before you could decide on ordering or making coffee yourself, there’s a knock at the door.

And in all fairness, you weren’t sure of what you were expecting. You should’ve checked the peep hole in the door, or even taken a glance at the monitor that shows who’s outside in the hall—but oddly something in you is out of order today and when the door opens to expose who it is standing by the threshold of your apartment, you freeze.

If this is what it feels like for your heart to drop to your ass, then you’ve just experienced it.

There he is. Jeon Wonwoo in the flesh, in the halls of your apartment complex with an oversized beige jacket and two cups of coffee placed in a pulp fiber drink carrier.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft and barely a whisper. The expression on his face is pained, like he’s just been through a heartbreak. Why was he here?

“Uh, hi?” Rubbing your nape, you’re left confused and speechless. Do you invite him in? Do you yell and scream because he left you that night, without a real explanation on why he decided to go? Or do you leap into his arms and tell him how much you’ve missed him, and how even when you’ve moved on and found others to love, your heart still came back to him. “What… What can I do for you?”

Wonwoo inhales a deep breath, lifting up the carrier in his hands. “I… I brought us coffee to talk, if you’re willing to invite me in.”

You roll your lips. “What are you actually doing here, Wonwoo? We broke up. I’m sure you remember that.”

“I got lost,” he admits abruptly, like it was the words that got caught in his throat all these years, as if it’s what he wanted to tell you all along. “I got lost, and I thought that what we had wasn’t supposed to be the end. I saw what it was like being with other people and I—I fucked up. It was a mistake.”

You don’t know what to say. This was something the old you wished for, dreamed for, even, but the person presently here doesn’t know what she wants. “Um,” you begin, clearing your throat. “What’s in that cup?”

“My apologies,” Wonwoo answers humorously, but it’s only a front. “Hot matcha latte with two shots of espresso. Just as you liked years ago.”

He went through the efforts to get the right drink for you. Maybe you’ll give him a chance to explain himself. “Twenty minutes—tops,” you clarify before stepping aside for him to enter.

Your apartment is in the same location, but the interior is different. He takes note that you’ve moved your desk to face the window, for sunlight he assumes, and you’ve shifted your couch over to make room for it. Your dishes used to sit out at the table, he remembered correctly, but you’ve overcome the habit and your sink is empty, plates cleared, and placed where they belong on the shelf. 

“Quick. Timer is starting.”

You’re quick to snag the drink from him, and a soft smile tugs on his mouth. He missed you, and even if he doesn’t outright say it, he feels it in his core. “I got engaged.”

You nearly spat out your matcha. “You what?”

Wonwoo nods, fingers tapping against the granite countertops of your island, swallowing all his nerves so he could fully explain himself. “I was seeing someone and… it got serious. So I did what seemed best at the time, and I proposed.”

“She looked nice,” you say, drawing imaginary shapes on the outside of your cup to calm yourself. Hatred buzzed through you, not the two shots of espresso, but you weren’t going to show it. You assumed it was his girlfriend that he proposed to, and to be fair, she seemed lovely—how could you blame him? “And she was pretty too.”

“She was great,” Wonwoo admits, and you wonder why he came in the first place. “Kind, charming, sweet—she was the whole packaged deal.”

Remaining silent, you figured it wasn’t time to start a fight. As tempting as it was, you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

“But she wasn’t you.”

You weren’t expecting that. 

“So I left,” he sighs, his jaw tensing at the memories. “I told her how I truly felt and walked out.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you do what you know best.”

It stings.

For him, his weakest spot has always been you. You were the one that made his heart skip a beat the first time, the one who made him feel whole as a person without making it feel like he needed you to fill it. You taught him to love himself, to accept who he was because he got to see himself through your eyes.

And he let that go. He fucked up and let go of the one person that helped him grow and be better as a person. For himself, for your relationship… for you.

But he abandoned you. Now he’s here and begging for forgiveness.

So when you say those words, they sting and burn like alcohol poured on to an open wound, but he’d stand there and take it because deserves it from you. 

“I—I know what I did, and I don’t know how to make it better.”

“Go marry her and be happy.” 

Now he wasn’t expecting that.

With furrowed brows, he switches the weight on his one leg to the other. You don’t mean that, do you? “What? You want me to marry her?”

“Yeah,” you reply, fists at your side clenched. “I want you to be married and happy, not still thinking about a ‘what if,’ with me. Wonwoo, as much as I wished it was me, I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her to deal with what I did, watching the love of your life walk out on you and never come back.”

“But I came back.”

“And you’ll go back to her. I also have too much self respect to just let you waltz into my life like you didn’t just throw away four years into the trash for you to get engaged and come back.”

He’s silent.

Your response catches him dumbfounded, but everything with you leaves him on the edge of his seat. It’s why your relationship had always been an excitement—the spontaneous road-trips, the surprises you’d give on random days to show your love, and the subtle things you’d do for him just because—with you, even when you’re just lounging on the couch with nothing to do for the day, he could never be bored.

“I’m not going back to her,” Wonwoo states, firmly this time.

“And why’s that? Because you got lost for a second?” You snap, and it feels like it was a slap to the face.

“Because I don’t love her.”

Scoffing, you place your drink into the counter. “So now what? You love me instead?”

“No,” he heaves out a heavy sigh, because he knows that you’ve put up a wall to protect yourself. It’d be hard for you to allow him through to you again, but he knows it’s worth it. “I’ve always loved you.”

Your heart swells. But of course it does, this is Jeon Wonwoo you were talking about here. With just one look, he makes people weak in the knees, heart stuttering in its beat, and steals the breath from their lungs. He’s a walking dream, and you’d be crazy to turn him down—and you didn't, but that was before. Things are different now. You’ve already given him the chance, and he took advantage of that.

“That’s great, Wonwoo, I’m happy that you realized that. But I don’t know what you want me to do—open my arms and let you leap back into them? Not really a Disney movie we’re living in here. This is reality.”

“I get it, in reality, there aren’t always second chances.”

You quirk a brow. “Well, if you get it, then why are you still here?”

“Because you’re a realist, and sometimes so am I. But I met a hopeless romantic, and he told me that if I still love you, I should still try.” 

There’s a pregnant pause. “Here I am, trying.”

In all honesty, Wonwoo knows you. He knows what comes with coming back to ask you for a second chance. It’s always been easy to love you, the difficult part was convincing you to admit you still love him back. You’ve been known to be stubborn, hard headedness being the bane of his existence because you’ll never cave in that easily.

But what you also knew and previously loved was his persistence.

He’d never leave unless you let him at least try winning you back.

When you first met Wonwoo in your junior year chemistry lab, you were entranced by this handsome man who said you were his lab partner? His tall frame, his boxy smile, his long black hair. It’s like the stars aligned and you knew you needed to have him. So one day during lab when things slowed down, you confidently asked Wonwoo out having no idea about his history or his personality with girls. You didn’t know he was one of the most sought after guys on campus. Not as boyfriend material. 

No, as one night stand material. And if any girl did ask him out on a date with the intention of more than a hookup, he’d firmly say no. You hadn’t known this of course. Wonwoo, ready to reject you, had looked up and was face to face with your kind eyes and hopeful smile. For some reason, he didn’t want to break your heart. He agreed to a date, which then led to another date, which led to another before you finally made it official. 

The campus’s most eligible fuckboy was finally off the market- now in the possession of a sunshine, bubbly, talkative, confident, and (lowkey) loser. You.

Fast forward to now. You’re having so many doubts about this relationship and all you want to do is break up with him and end this weird dynamic the two of you have been floating in for months. 

You’re currently burrowed in Wonwoo’s bed while he showers, pondering your relationship. You already know that after he’s done, he’s probably going to fuck off and play video games until two in the morning so you might as well not wait for him. 

Right when you’re about to close your eyes, your boyfriend enters his bedroom in just low-hanging black sweatpants, walking towards his dresser next to his bed to grab something.

You sometimes forget what’s underneath all of Wonwoo’s baggy shirts and sweaters. His back muscles, broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and strong arms make you slightly blush. You roll over to face away from him, waiting for him to leave so you can sleep in peace. 

The padding of his feet lets you know he’s finally left but when you hear him turn off some lights and approach his room again, you’re confused.

There’s a dip in the bed and rustling of the sheets as Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you. You roll on your back to face him and feel your heart beat faster at your shirtless boyfriend surrounded by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Wonwoo says nothing as he props himself up on his elbow with his other hand resting on your stomach. 

When you smile at him, Wonwoo softly groans and leans down to connect your lips in what starts as a tame kiss. Before you know it, his tongue is inside your mouth and his hand is on your collarbone, slowly inching its way up to your throat. It’s very rare that Wonwoo initiates makeouts much less one as… intense as this one. You’re quite pleased. 

This is the Wonwoo you fell in love with. Back then, he was more passionate in the way he loved you. Okay so, he never planned dates or surprises or anything a normal boyfriend would do but he was still present. He’d hang out with you and cuddle with you and make out with you.

God you were pathetic.

After several more minutes of making out, you break apart and get more comfy on top of the pillows. Wonwoo lays down on your chest and you watch him play a game on his phone, feeling his breath on your skin, lulling you to sleep.

It’s been a couple days since you’ve seen your boyfriend and he agrees to a lunch date after his football practice. You happily run to the door of the men’s locker room, holding an energy drink for Wonwoo, excited to catch up with him. You’re about to knock when you hear Wonwoo’s best friend and teammate’s voice, Mingyu say, “I’m surprised you’ve been with her this long.”

“Yeah, well she’s hot so I can’t blame you Wonwoo” Joshua- his other best friend and teammate says.

When you hear Wonwoo laugh, your heart sinks. Are they talking about you?

There’s no way, right?

“I’m just not interested in her at all. She’s super hot but her personality is way too bubbly, she talks all the time- I swear there’s never a moment of silence, and she’s just constantly doing things for me, setting up dates. I just- she’s just too much,” Wonwoo says.

“Bro, so why the hell are you even with her? You’re her boyfriend, isn’t that normal boyfriend stuff?” Joshua asks.

You swear your heart stops beating as you wait to hear his answer. 

The truth.

“Because I want to see what she’s like in bed. I’m in it for the long game. I’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Dread fills your lungs and all you hear is your own heartbeat. Your ears and face feel hot. 

All this time. The reason why he was such a shitty boyfriend was because he didn’t even like you. What an actor to put up with you for a year. Only fools would fall for his performance, but you know that if you looked in the mirror you’d be face to face with the most foolish of fools.

What a way to be played.

Tears fill your eyes, your forehead hits the wall. Mingyu and Joshua laugh in the background.

Not sure how to navigate this newfound and unpleasant truth, you end up holing up in your apartment for three days. Three days of complete radio silence on your end. You’re embarrassed to tell your friends, especially Minghao. He had warned you from the very beginning that Wonwoo wasn’t good for you. That he had a reputation of messing with girls left and right. But you had so much faith in Wonwoo and look where it’s gotten you. 

You haven’t cried since you heard Wonwoo’s nasty words. But you’re filled with rage and anger. It consumes you, it rattles in your bones. It’s eating at you. You’ve never been this angry before so you don’t know how to hold these emotions.

As usual, Wonwoo hasn’t texted or called and now you know why. 

Just when you’re considering going out for a walk, there’s a knock on your door. 

Speak of the devil, it’s Wonwoo.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you in a minute,” Wonwoo says when you open the door. You’re genuinely shocked he’s noticed your silence. “Wanna get dinner or something?” he asks, entering your living room and putting his bag on the floor. You just stare at him, watching as he moves around before settling on your couch.

Noticing how you haven’t answered him, Wonwoo looks up with a raised eyebrow at your blank face.

“What?”

You take a deep breath.

Now or never.

“How much of an idiot do you think I am?” you ask quietly.

“Uh, wh-,” he starts.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out Wonwoo?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I should’ve known. I should’ve known when you forgot my birthday and our anniversary and Valentine’s Day. When you missed dinner reservations, dates, plans. But you were out partying and drinking, and who knows what else. I should’ve known you’ve never even liked me.”

Wonwoo’s jaw has gone slack. 

“I told myself that maybe it was my fault. That maybe I wasn’t doing enough. I just didn’t think you were only with me to find out what I’m like in bed.”

The silence between the two of you is so loud, it’s deafening. 

Even though you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry in front of Wonwoo, you can’t help it when a tear falls down your face. 

“Is that all I’m worth to you? Is that all this whole year meant to you? Is having sex with me more important than my time and my heart?”

Wonwoo can’t even look at you.

“Answer me!” you shout.

When he doesn’t, you approach him. He quickly stands up and you hit his chest over and over and he just lets you.

“Why would you do this to me? Did I deserve this somehow?”

You’re sobbing now. 

“Am I worth this little to you?” you ask quietly, no longer hitting him.

You’re gasping for air and clutching his forearms with your head bowed so he can’t see you cry. 

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back. 

“I hate you.”

This whole time Wonwoo has said nothing. 

“Get out.”

You wait for the door to click shut before you sink to the floor.

Wonwoo isn’t sure why he feels so weird.

He’s played you right from the very start and he’s never felt guilty about it. Not once in the full year he’s been with you. 

He’s been so sure you’d give yourself to him and based on your performance in bed, he’d either break it off or stick around for a bit. 

It’s a dick move for sure but that’s just how he is.

“Damn. Let’s go to the club and celebrate your new life as a single man,” Mingyu had said when Wonwoo told them the two of you had ended things. 

It’s dark and Wonwoo’s brain is a little hazy from all the alcohol he’s consumed in the past two hours. All night he’s been approached by hot girls but for some reason, he’s not up for a casual fuck. It’s been so long since he’s been able to freely be with who he wants that he feels off his game. Before you, all he’d have to do is give a girl one brief look and they’d be at his feet, begging for one magical night with him. What a power trip it was to say No, sorry I have a girlfriend.

There’s a girl with bleached hair who’s been looking at him all night. He’s been conscious of her because she’s hot and obviously interested. He wants to approach her, to whisper in her ear and see where the night takes them.

But he cannot get your betrayed face out of his head.

Am I worth this little to you?

Fuck.

Wonwoo feels like shit. The sooner he actually admits it to himself, the less guilty he’ll feel. 

He knows why he’s drinking more than usual. Why he’s refusing other girls’ advances. 

Because for the first time, he knows that what he’s done was wrong. No one has ever called him out on his behavior except for you. He’s been riding this high horse thinking he’s hot shit who can have whatever he wants. 

But he can’t. 

Across town, you’re not having a great time. Minghao holds your hair back as you throw up into your toilet, gently rubbing your back.

For the past four hours, Minghao’s watched you cry yourself sick.

I’m sorry is all he can say. Because he knows words won’t heal your broken heart. What a piece of shit Wonwoo is he thinks. If you weren’t such a wreck right now, Minghao would find the said piece of shit and sock him in the damn face. 

It’s only when Minghao tucks you into bed, that he leaves your apartment, hopping into his car, and driving with a destination in mind. Minghao used to be on the football team with Mingyu. Joshua, and Wonwoo before an injury took him out for good. He remembers the old lifestyle he used to lead full of excessive hooking up, drinking, clubbing, and vaping. 

He hangs outside the club he knows Wonwoo and the others are in. And when three am rolls around and Wonwoo comes stumbling out the big black doors, he’s greeted by a clean hook to the face. 

“What the fu-”

“You’re a piece of shit you know?” Minghao says between gritted teeth, gripping Wonwoo’s shirt and shoving him against the brick wall. Minghao has never been stronger than Wonwoo but right now, Wonwoo is powerless against Minghao’s grip. “How could you do this to her, huh? Does it make you feel powerful knowing that you can just use girls whenever you want?”

“Hey, you used to do it too,” Wonwoo says, shoving Minghao off of him. 

“This isn’t about me! And I’ve never done anything as bad as this in all my years of fucking around. You’ve been using her! For a year! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Wonwoo touches his bloody nose carefully, wincing in pain. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Wonwoo shouts. “So what if I just wanted to fuck her? It’s not a big deal. You’re a man. You should know that there’s no point in dating someone if you’re not fucking! There’s only so much you can talk about and only so many dates you can go on before it gets boring!”

Minghao scoffs.

“You’re a real tool. One day, this mentality of yours is going to bite you in the ass really badly. I have never seen her like this. You have no idea what you’ve done to her.”

And with that, Minghao gets in his car and drives back to your apartment.

The blood from Wonwoo’s broken nose stains his white t-shirt. He sits against the wall and hangs his head. Maybe Minghao was right, maybe he is a piece of shit.

When you first met Wonwoo in your junior year chemistry lab, you were entranced by this handsome man who said you were his lab partner? His tall frame, his boxy smile, his long black hair. It’s like the stars aligned and you knew you needed to have him. So one day during lab when things slowed down, you confidently asked Wonwoo out having no idea about his history or his personality with girls. You didn’t know he was one of the most sought after guys on campus. Not as boyfriend material. 

No, as one night stand material. And if any girl did ask him out on a date with the intention of more than a hookup, he’d firmly say no. You hadn’t known this of course. Wonwoo, ready to reject you, had looked up and was face to face with your kind eyes and hopeful smile. For some reason, he didn’t want to break your heart. He agreed to a date, which then led to another date, which led to another before you finally made it official. 

The campus’s most eligible fuckboy was finally off the market- now in the possession of a sunshine, bubbly, talkative, confident, and (lowkey) loser. You.

Fast forward to now. You’re having so many doubts about this relationship and all you want to do is break up with him and end this weird dynamic the two of you have been floating in for months. 

You’re currently burrowed in Wonwoo’s bed while he showers, pondering your relationship. You already know that after he’s done, he’s probably going to fuck off and play video games until two in the morning so you might as well not wait for him. 

Right when you’re about to close your eyes, your boyfriend enters his bedroom in just low-hanging black sweatpants, walking towards his dresser next to his bed to grab something.

You sometimes forget what’s underneath all of Wonwoo’s baggy shirts and sweaters. His back muscles, broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and strong arms make you slightly blush. You roll over to face away from him, waiting for him to leave so you can sleep in peace. 

The padding of his feet lets you know he’s finally left but when you hear him turn off some lights and approach his room again, you’re confused.

There’s a dip in the bed and rustling of the sheets as Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you. You roll on your back to face him and feel your heart beat faster at your shirtless boyfriend surrounded by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Wonwoo says nothing as he props himself up on his elbow with his other hand resting on your stomach. 

When you smile at him, Wonwoo softly groans and leans down to connect your lips in what starts as a tame kiss. Before you know it, his tongue is inside your mouth and his hand is on your collarbone, slowly inching its way up to your throat. It’s very rare that Wonwoo initiates makeouts much less one as… intense as this one. You’re quite pleased. 

This is the Wonwoo you fell in love with. Back then, he was more passionate in the way he loved you. Okay so, he never planned dates or surprises or anything a normal boyfriend would do but he was still present. He’d hang out with you and cuddle with you and make out with you.

God you were pathetic.

After several more minutes of making out, you break apart and get more comfy on top of the pillows. Wonwoo lays down on your chest and you watch him play a game on his phone, feeling his breath on your skin, lulling you to sleep.

It’s been a couple days since you’ve seen your boyfriend and he agrees to a lunch date after his football practice. You happily run to the door of the men’s locker room, holding an energy drink for Wonwoo, excited to catch up with him. You’re about to knock when you hear Wonwoo’s best friend and teammate’s voice, Mingyu say, “I’m surprised you’ve been with her this long.”

“Yeah, well she’s hot so I can’t blame you Wonwoo” Joshua- his other best friend and teammate says.

When you hear Wonwoo laugh, your heart sinks. Are they talking about you?

There’s no way, right?

“I’m just not interested in her at all. She’s super hot but her personality is way too bubbly, she talks all the time- I swear there’s never a moment of silence, and she’s just constantly doing things for me, setting up dates. I just- she’s just too much,” Wonwoo says.

“Bro, so why the hell are you even with her? You’re her boyfriend, isn’t that normal boyfriend stuff?” Joshua asks.

You swear your heart stops beating as you wait to hear his answer. 

The truth.

“Because I want to see what she’s like in bed. I’m in it for the long game. I’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Dread fills your lungs and all you hear is your own heartbeat. Your ears and face feel hot. 

All this time. The reason why he was such a shitty boyfriend was because he didn’t even like you. What an actor to put up with you for a year. Only fools would fall for his performance, but you know that if you looked in the mirror you’d be face to face with the most foolish of fools.

What a way to be played.

Tears fill your eyes, your forehead hits the wall. Mingyu and Joshua laugh in the background.

Not sure how to navigate this newfound and unpleasant truth, you end up holing up in your apartment for three days. Three days of complete radio silence on your end. You’re embarrassed to tell your friends, especially Minghao. He had warned you from the very beginning that Wonwoo wasn’t good for you. That he had a reputation of messing with girls left and right. But you had so much faith in Wonwoo and look where it’s gotten you. 

You haven’t cried since you heard Wonwoo’s nasty words. But you’re filled with rage and anger. It consumes you, it rattles in your bones. It’s eating at you. You’ve never been this angry before so you don’t know how to hold these emotions.

As usual, Wonwoo hasn’t texted or called and now you know why. 

Just when you’re considering going out for a walk, there’s a knock on your door. 

Speak of the devil, it’s Wonwoo.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you in a minute,” Wonwoo says when you open the door. You’re genuinely shocked he’s noticed your silence. “Wanna get dinner or something?” he asks, entering your living room and putting his bag on the floor. You just stare at him, watching as he moves around before settling on your couch.

Noticing how you haven’t answered him, Wonwoo looks up with a raised eyebrow at your blank face.

“What?”

You take a deep breath.

Now or never.

“How much of an idiot do you think I am?” you ask quietly.

“Uh, wh-,” he starts.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out Wonwoo?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I should’ve known. I should’ve known when you forgot my birthday and our anniversary and Valentine’s Day. When you missed dinner reservations, dates, plans. But you were out partying and drinking, and who knows what else. I should’ve known you’ve never even liked me.”

Wonwoo’s jaw has gone slack. 

“I told myself that maybe it was my fault. That maybe I wasn’t doing enough. I just didn’t think you were only with me to find out what I’m like in bed.”

The silence between the two of you is so loud, it’s deafening. 

Even though you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry in front of Wonwoo, you can’t help it when a tear falls down your face. 

“Is that all I’m worth to you? Is that all this whole year meant to you? Is having sex with me more important than my time and my heart?”

Wonwoo can’t even look at you.

“Answer me!” you shout.

When he doesn’t, you approach him. He quickly stands up and you hit his chest over and over and he just lets you.

“Why would you do this to me? Did I deserve this somehow?”

You’re sobbing now. 

“Am I worth this little to you?” you ask quietly, no longer hitting him.

You’re gasping for air and clutching his forearms with your head bowed so he can’t see you cry. 

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back. 

“I hate you.”

This whole time Wonwoo has said nothing. 

“Get out.”

You wait for the door to click shut before you sink to the floor.

Wonwoo isn’t sure why he feels so weird.

He’s played you right from the very start and he’s never felt guilty about it. Not once in the full year he’s been with you. 

He’s been so sure you’d give yourself to him and based on your performance in bed, he’d either break it off or stick around for a bit. 

It’s a dick move for sure but that’s just how he is.

“Damn. Let’s go to the club and celebrate your new life as a single man,” Mingyu had said when Wonwoo told them the two of you had ended things. 

It’s dark and Wonwoo’s brain is a little hazy from all the alcohol he’s consumed in the past two hours. All night he’s been approached by hot girls but for some reason, he’s not up for a casual fuck. It’s been so long since he’s been able to freely be with who he wants that he feels off his game. Before you, all he’d have to do is give a girl one brief look and they’d be at his feet, begging for one magical night with him. What a power trip it was to say No, sorry I have a girlfriend.

There’s a girl with bleached hair who’s been looking at him all night. He’s been conscious of her because she’s hot and obviously interested. He wants to approach her, to whisper in her ear and see where the night takes them.

But he cannot get your betrayed face out of his head.

Am I worth this little to you?

Fuck.

Wonwoo feels like shit. The sooner he actually admits it to himself, the less guilty he’ll feel. 

He knows why he’s drinking more than usual. Why he’s refusing other girls’ advances. 

Because for the first time, he knows that what he’s done was wrong. No one has ever called him out on his behavior except for you. He’s been riding this high horse thinking he’s hot shit who can have whatever he wants. 

But he can’t. 

Across town, you’re not having a great time. Minghao holds your hair back as you throw up into your toilet, gently rubbing your back.

For the past four hours, Minghao’s watched you cry yourself sick.

I’m sorry is all he can say. Because he knows words won’t heal your broken heart. What a piece of shit Wonwoo is he thinks. If you weren’t such a wreck right now, Minghao would find the said piece of shit and sock him in the damn face. 

It’s only when Minghao tucks you into bed, that he leaves your apartment, hopping into his car, and driving with a destination in mind. Minghao used to be on the football team with Mingyu. Joshua, and Wonwoo before an injury took him out for good. He remembers the old lifestyle he used to lead full of excessive hooking up, drinking, clubbing, and vaping. 

He hangs outside the club he knows Wonwoo and the others are in. And when three am rolls around and Wonwoo comes stumbling out the big black doors, he’s greeted by a clean hook to the face. 

“What the fu-”

“You’re a piece of shit you know?” Minghao says between gritted teeth, gripping Wonwoo’s shirt and shoving him against the brick wall. Minghao has never been stronger than Wonwoo but right now, Wonwoo is powerless against Minghao’s grip. “How could you do this to her, huh? Does it make you feel powerful knowing that you can just use girls whenever you want?”

“Hey, you used to do it too,” Wonwoo says, shoving Minghao off of him. 

“This isn’t about me! And I’ve never done anything as bad as this in all my years of fucking around. You’ve been using her! For a year! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Wonwoo touches his bloody nose carefully, wincing in pain. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Wonwoo shouts. “So what if I just wanted to fuck her? It’s not a big deal. You’re a man. You should know that there’s no point in dating someone if you’re not fucking! There’s only so much you can talk about and only so many dates you can go on before it gets boring!”

Minghao scoffs.

“You’re a real tool. One day, this mentality of yours is going to bite you in the ass really badly. I have never seen her like this. You have no idea what you’ve done to her.”

And with that, Minghao gets in his car and drives back to your apartment.

The blood from Wonwoo’s broken nose stains his white t-shirt. He sits against the wall and hangs his head. Maybe Minghao was right, maybe he is a piece of shit.

“Soonyoung, her crown!” You warn, watching as your friend smacks the plastic crown off Haen’s head. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy digging her greedy little hands in the pocket of his tiger onesie where she knows she’ll find candy. “Are you sure you can do this?” 

Soonyoung scoffs. His outrage is lessened by the ridiculous tiger onesie he’s in, the suit zipped to the neck and the hood pulled up over his head. He’s got Iseul in his arms, cradling her in her dragon costume as she pulls on his hood while Haen reveals a Jolly Rancher. 

“Maybe we-”

Wonwoo’s hand on your lower back cuts you off as he steps through the door frame. He pitches his voice low and gentle as he crouches down, eye level with your eldest child. “Hey, no candy until after. We agreed, remember?” 

Pouting, she shoves the candy back inside Soonyoung’s pocket. Behind him, Jihoon and Jeonghan snort. “Yes, daddy. Sorry, I excited.” 

Mouth pressed firmly to hide your smile, you feel the overwhelming sense of love for her as she puts her hands behind her back, waiting patiently for Soonyoung to escort her down the steps and sidewalk to go trick-or-treating. 

“We’ll be fine,” Soonyoung assures, pouting as he takes Haen’s hand and spins around. Your other friends hold out the empty buckets made to be filled with candy. “We promised we had them, and we do!”

Wonwoo stands, hand sliding up your back as he does. “You remember where the key is?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder. He passes Iseul to Jeonghan, who holds her far less precariously. “We’ll let you know when we’re back. Go out on the town or whatever it is parents with no kids do.” 

Children and parents line the streets. You watch your little group of friends with your two kids meander down the sidewalk, Jihoon immediately lifting Haeun to put her on his shoulders. Nerves eat away at you as they finally vanish from your line of vision, lost to the other swarms of trick-or-treaters and bobbing halloween lights hanging from trees. 

“Maybe we should-”

“Nope,” Wonwoo says gently, pulling you toward him. “They’ll do fine. Jihoon is with them, what could go wrong?”

Blowing out a sigh you nod, taking a moment to just drink him in. As much as he hates dressing up on Halloween, he’s done it again this year for you, dressed in the exact cowboy costume that you had put together for him. It’s less a costume than it is precariously picked clothes - the tan, suede button up and brown leather pants had already been in his closet, along with the belt and bolo tie. You’d just purchased the hat and the boots to complete the look.

And it is a look.

Wonwoo has always had the annoying ability to look good in whatever he wears. It doesn’t matter if he’s sitting on the couch in a shirt with juice stains from Iseul spilling her apple juice all over him or if he’s in a pressed suit at a company holiday party - he looks good in everything. 

Heading back inside, you catch yourself in the mirror near the entrance, tugging at your skirt a little. It’s a little higher and tighter than you remember, and the button digs into your stomach a bit more than you like. Chewing your lip, you quickly turn from the mirror, busying yourself in the kitchen looking for your car keys and purse.

Wonwoo follows you silently, leaning against the door frame as he watches you. His eyes are heavy on you, your stomach fluttering as you drop a credit card onto the floor. Cursing, you bend down to get it, feeling the skirt hug you tightly and restrict your movement for a second. 

“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, pushing off the wall.

“No, no,” you manage to peel it off the tile. “This damn skirt is so much tighter than it used to be. God.” Standing up again, you shove your card into the wallet, not meeting his eyes as he drifts toward you. “Maybe I should change.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know.”

“I think it looks fucking fantastic.” You roll your eyes, looking at him with a deadpan stare. His mouth twitches a little as he drops his gaze to the jean skirt in question. “You look fucking hot.” 

“We’re married. You have to say that.”

“Weird. I don’t remember that being in our vows.” 

“It definitely was.” You fiddle with the zipper on your wallet, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I think it was right after in sickness. It said and always tell your wife she’s hot.” 

His laugh is throaty and he reaches for you. You let him, his hands soft as he pulls you toward him by the waist. He smells like spicy cologne and something that is distinctly Wonwoo. Instead of looking up to meet his gaze, you focus on the pocket of his shirt, lifting your hands to fidget with it and press it flat.

“Baby,” he murmurs. You still don’t look up at him, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “I really like the skirt, but you can wear whatever you want.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm. It makes your legs look good. Not to mention…” One hand drifts from your hip to your ass, squeezing generously. Your breath catches and your eyes flick up to meet his. They’re dark, a playful edge to his gaze that you’re intimately familiar with. “You look good in everything to me.” 

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” he imitates. Wonwoo’s fingers skim the edge of the skirt, brushing across your thighs. You shiver, clinging to him a little as your eyes flutter shut at the contact. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as he says, “Want me to help you out of it?” 

The two of you have been together for nine years, married for six. You know every part of your best friend turned boyfriend turned husband. There is no corner of his heart he has left unturned to you, no thought that you cannot complete, no words he can speak that you don’t already know.

So when he asks if you want him to help you out of it you know what he’s asking you. He isn’t saying he’ll help you out and to pick out a new skirt. He isn’t asking you to change it. He doesn’t even want you to put the skirt back on, if his hungry gaze and the low pitch of his voice tells you anything. 

“I thought you wanted to go to the halloween party.”

His laugh comes out in a huff. “I’d like to get you out of that skirt more.” 

Wonwoo’s fingers curl around the edge of your skirt, a question. “Please.” 

Wonwoo has never denied you anything, and he doesn’t now. He spins you against the counter so that your hips are pressed to it, your back to his chest. He sinks his hands down your front, fingers deftly undoing the button. His hot breath is on your neck, his lips barely skimming your skin in an almost-kiss. 

Button popped, Wonwoo pulls the material open. Instead of rolling it down at the waist, his hand snakes into your skirt, pressing against your underwear as his mouth connects with your throat. You let out a breathy noise, melting in his arms as he presses his fingers to your clit over the silk of your underwear. 

“Oh,” you breath, going slack against him. He doesn’t mind, pinning you between him and the counter as he circles his fingers teasingly. He keeps his mouth busy, pressing wet kisses up your throat and toward your jaw. “Thought you wanted me out of it.” 

“I will,” he promises, nipping your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access. The lower pit of your stomach burns with desire, sparking at his lazy touch. “Just wanted to touch first.”

“Slow ain’t your thing, cowboy?” 

“Nah, I’ve got a pretty thing that wants to take a ride.” 

Your laugh is cut off by a hiss, your head falling forward, as Wonwoo glides a finger down to press at your entrance. You feel your muscles clench, your stomach lurching as he teases you. A hand shoots to his wrist and you dig your fingers in, nails biting. 

“Be nice,” you warn sternly. 

“Mmm. You’re using your mommy voice.” 

“I wouldn’t have to if daddy was being nice.”

“Daddy says he’ll make up for it.” 

Daddy does. He always does. Wonwoo loves to tease you and make you beg for it, but he doesn’t now, fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he can stroke your pussy in full. He moans at the wetness he finds, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch as he works his hand between your legs. 

Wonwoo’s fingers are deft and skillful, applying just the right pressure and stimulation to work you up. Your breath becomes stilted, feeling the ripples of pleasure as he gets you where he wants you. Pinned between him and the counter, you can’t move. Can’t squirm. Can’t buck your hands to meet his strokes when he sinks a finger into your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, pressing a messy kiss to your shoulder. “Like fucking silk.”

Heat creeps up your neck. You feel breathless under his attention, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit as Wonwoo leisurely fucks you with his finger, dragging it out only to slide up to your clit, circling gently. 

Your fingers dig into him as Wonwoo strings you along, enjoying the way your sounds turn airy and weak. He plays you perfectly, working you up until you feel your thighs twitching, eyes shut as you let him steer you toward your peak.

Wonwoo pulls his hand from your skirt, making you eyes fly open, mouth hanging open. Turning to yell at him over your shoulder, your words are lost as he drops to his knees, fingers yanking your skirt as he goes.

Cool air hits your legs as he taps your ankle, asking you to step out of the skirt. You do and he rewards you with a gentle kiss on the back of your thigh, his hands skimming up your legs. You feel the coolness wear his wet fingers leave a slick trail on your skin. 

Leaning forward, he plans another gentle kiss on the curve of your ass, making you laugh. He hums pleasantly, hands warm and explorative. He presses the small of your back gently, making you lean onto the counter, ass out. 

Delicately, he peels your underwear from your hips, tossing them somewhere else. His hands return to your legs, pressing gently to pry your thighs apart. He groans at your messy cunt, no doubt proud of his work. 

The marble countertop is freezing cold, ground you as you rest your cheek on it. You feel your chest heavy, holding your breath for a moment when Wonwoo leans forward and dips his tongue between your folds tentatively. 

“Soonyoung should take the kids more often,” Wonwoo notes, breath hitting you between the legs. You make a strangled sound, distracted by the way his fingers squeeze your thighs, digging into the meat of them. His tongue dips back in, dragging upward again. “Want to do this more.” 

“You - fuck - did this last night.” 

“Not with you bent over the counter and this pretty ass in my face.” His hand smacks your ass lightly, making you squeal. He laughs deep in his throat, a little bit of a groan as he mutters, “Exactly.” 

Wonwoo stops talking, mouth busy as he fastens his lips to your heat, sucking gently. He drives you insane, losing yourself in the way his tongue circles gently around your bundle of nerves. He alternates between tongue and lips, a shattering combination of heaven and hell as he works you toward an orgasm. 

His mouth isn’t the reason you fell in love with him, but as you start breaking apart, you think it might be a solid entry on the list of reasons. You reach back with one hand, knocking the hat off his head to tangle your fingers in his hair. He grunts, appreciative as he gives a particularly greedy suck, making your toes curl. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, breaking away for a second. His fingers peel you open and you moan when you feel him spit against your hole, clenching around nothing. “Who needs candy when I have the sweetest thing right here?”

“Wonwoo.” 

“You even melt in my mouth.”

“Wonwoo.”

He chuckles. “Yeah baby, I know.”

He always knows. He attaches his mouth back to you, slick and messy and loud as he works you to your orgasm. Your nails dig against his scalp - he doesn’t care. He lets you tug him further in, happy to press his face as close to your heat as possible. 

You press back into him, muscle clenching. You burst like a bubble, completely coming undone under his mouth as you come against him, face pressed to the counter. He pushes you through it, not letting you escape him when you try and wiggle away, tongue hot and hungry until you’re begging him to let up. 

Wonwoo pulls away, breathing heavily. His hands skate up and down your legs and suddenly you’re grateful your weight is all on the countertop, thighs totally useless. 

“God damn,” you pants, eyes shut.

“Yeah,” he agrees and stands. You feel him crowd you in, touch seeking your hips. “Catch your breath, partner. You still got a ride to go on.” 

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