Mnemosyne's Journal

You couldn’t wait to finally spend the night at Hongjoong’s apartment for the first time. You’d been ecstatic that he invited you over, considering how shitty work had been, not to mention your family driving you up a wall. On top of spending time with Hongjoong, you were incredibly grateful for the opportunity to just rest for once.

As you walked up to the front door, overnight bag in your hand, you realized that for the first time, you had no idea what to expect when you walked into the apartment. Since you’d made plans to spend the night, Hongjoong had been far more secretive than usual when it came to what he’d planned for the two of you to do together, and the mystery was starting to drive you just a little bit crazy. You trusted him, of course, so you knew he didn’t have anything weird or dangerous planned, but at the same time, you would have really liked to know what you would be doing ahead of time.

When you knocked on Hongjoong’s door, you heard a crash, then he yelled, “Fuck!” You wanted to call out and ask if he was ok, but before you could get the words out, you heard what sounded like someone running, immediately followed by the door opening. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Hongjoong smiled softly and said, “Hi, baby. How was the drive over?”

“Not bad. Are you ok, ‘joong?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, clutching his wrist. “Just dropped some things and banged my wrist on the table trying to set things up.

“What things?”

That was when Hongjoong’s smile turned mischievous as he said, “Come with me and you’ll find out, sweetheart.”

With that, he took your hand and led you into his apartment, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you take in the home movie theater that he’d set up for the two of you. He’d hung lights around his living room, set out some snacks on his coffee table, and put a movie that he knew you’d been dying to watch on the TV. Everything had been planned out in advance and perfectly executed, and you’d never felt more cared for before.

You snapped out of your admiration when you heard Hongjoong clear his throat and nervously ask, “So, what do you think?”

“I think I wanna curl up on the couch with you, split a box of Reese’s Pieces, and watch the movie. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, angel,” he responded, his signature smile on his face.

With that, Hongjoong took your overnight bag and set it down, grabbed your hand, and led you to the couch, grabbing a box of Reese’s Pieces off of the table before the two of you sat down. Then, he grabbed the remote, and you leaned into him as he pressed play and the movie began.

Pretty much immediately, both you and Hongjoong were so sucked into the plot of the movie you barely said a word to each other, both of you eating the snacks that he’d set out as you watched. You didn’t exactly mind that, though. One of the many things that you loved about quality time with Hongjoong was the fact that you didn’t have to fill the space with conversations to feel seen or cared about. His presence was all you needed, and you loved having the opportunity to rest when the two of you were together.

You were about halfway through the movie when you realized you were close to falling asleep. You really didn’t know why, but something about spending time with Hongjoong always made it hard not to doze off, and apparently your movie night was no different. Without really thinking about it, you closed your eyes, relaxing in Hongjoong’s arms on the edge of sleep but not quite drifting off.

Before you knew it, the movie was over, but Hongjoong didn’t get up from the couch. Instead, you felt him moving as he took something out of his pocket. Then, you heard a soft instrumental playlist start playing, and you felt him press a soft kiss to your forehead as he said, “I hope you’re sleeping well, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled when you heard Hongjoong tell you that he loved you for the first time, and as you thought about it, you realized that you had two options. You could either continue letting him think that you were asleep, or you could tell him what you’d been waiting to tell him for weeks: that you loved him too. In the end, you chose the latter.

“I love you too, ‘joong,” you said softly as you opened your eyes.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he responded, trying to hide the shy smile on his face.

“I just had my eyes closed.”

Hongjoong looked nervous when he hesitantly asked, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” you asked. After you thought about it for a minute, though, you realized what he was referring to and said, “Yes, I meant it. I love you."

“I love you,” Hongjoong repeated before pulling you into a soft kiss. When you pulled away, he added, “I’ve wanted to say it for so long. It just never seemed like the right time.”

“Well, I think tonight was the perfect time,” you replied.

“Yeah, so do I.” After a brief silence, he said, “It’s getting a little late. Should we clean all of this up and get ready for bed?”

“That sounds like a plan, my love,” you answered before you pulled him into another kiss.

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Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean.

Which is why, when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shoving him around a little, after all?

“What did you get him for?” you ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually.

Seungcheol glances over at you, and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth as he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

“Probable cause,” the young, over-eager cop who is getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud, while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head.

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah, but not stupid. He's been known to get pretty injured, and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

“Oh, you fucking idiots,” you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

“What the fuck?” the younger cop baulks, dumbstruck. “Who the fuck are you to just–”

“You really think you're going to get brownie points with the captain by bringing him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid.”

“But we caught him.”

“Yeah, and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?”

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back, where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter.

“That's a good boy,” you whisper into his ear, while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another about what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you, but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol, and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding, and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It’s happened before, once, over a year ago, and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs, despite being the best the precinct had to offer.

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him to get up. You have to bite back your pleased grin as the powerful man silently obeys your order and gets to his feet. Though he does glare at you over his shoulder. It just makes it all that much sweeter.

“You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted,” you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again, but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door.

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down to urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out spills out any further to reach the cops and they can try to drag this out further. That’s the last thing you need right now.

“What?” you ask the two young men upon facing them again once you’ve closed the door and turned away from the car; they’re still watching you dumbly. “I know; my ass looks great in these.” You smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass, making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound.

“Yeah,” the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door.

“Idiot,” his partner hisses, backhanding him. “Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harassment!”

“She started it!”

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you can with so little to work with. It’s a point of pride for you.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you; you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

“Now, now, Mr. Choi, please respect my car.” He kicks the seat again, making you snicker. “So ungrateful; I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative.”

“Like fuck am I,” he grunts and shuffles closer to the crisscross of bars separating the two halves of the car. “Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch.” You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him, before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. “Sick fuck; you get off on it, don't you?”

“Damn right,” you confirm shamelessly, with an almost twisted smirk. “Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie.”

“How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?” He's too close to the front seats to kick them again, but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale, ripped jeans to allow him so close.

Fuck, you wish you can see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight, but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit.

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. “Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will, yet never stick to, I might learn my lesson.”

“You'd fucking like it,” he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. “Pull over and uncuff me.”

“Nope.”

“I'm warning you, little one.”

“Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here,” you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later, you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate, making him swear harshly. “Oops,” you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

“You fucking–” he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing this time.

“Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie,” you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position.

Man, he's so fucking thick; you know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too.

Not forgetting the memorable time that he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action; automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure.

You've never been gladder that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck; you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly.

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up; your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs. It really does a lot for your endless arousal where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue.”

“If you say you were watching those fucking videos again–” he starts.

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras.” You can’t help but pout a little; disappointed and heartbroken at your inability to get new spank-bank material. At least currently. You’re determined where stalking Seungcheol is involved and have already been devising plans.

“I did that so that I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!” he barks. “I swear, one day, I'm going to actually choke you.”

“Do it.” The sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god that he doesn't believe in for the strength to handle you and your endless depravities. “Question.”

“What?” He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along, unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day.

“Would you use your hands to choke me?”

“What else?”

“Your thighs–”

“Shut up,” he groans and pushes himself further upright. “Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?”

You don’t hesitate to respond shamelessly “No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?”

“I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking, but no, you're even worse.”

“I appreciate art, and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol, are pure fucking art.”

“We have very different definitions of art,” he deadpans.

“Yes, I know.” You roll your eyes. “You like silicone and spray tan.”

“Do I?” He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

“Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection.”

“Not gonna comment on the collection,” he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity about how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life. Which, he knows, heavily involves you masturbating to those videos of him masturbating.

“Do you want to see?” you offer brightly. “I have one that I think could compare to your cock.” Your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge, which you know is him flaccid. “Maybe...” You suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chased his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall, to take what he wants.

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people— not even just women—, but that's always to get his way, and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

“Stop thinking about my cock,” Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality, and causing you to look up at him, though your gaze darts back down upon realising there's a change in the bulge in your periphery vision. “Don't–”

“Are you getting hard?!” you gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate.

“No.”

“Liar.” You grin, eyes sparkling.

Seungcheol knows he's done for now. For years you've been trying to fuck him, and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way.

“So, what's going to happen, Cheolie–” He swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. “Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there–”

“And uncuff me.”

“No, silly boy,” you giggle. “And ride your giant cock.”

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission— because although you do a lot of questionable shit, you'd never physically force yourself on anyone—; and Seungcheol clearly in thought.

“Get back here,” he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” you exhale, climbing out of the car, where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belonging to Seungcheol’s gang.

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly, but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat.

“You got a condom?” he asks. He lets out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning.

“Nope.” You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt, before working on the button and zipper of his jeans. “Got a problem with that?”

“Fucking you raw?” You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly hardening cock to your greedy gaze. “You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times, and weirdly fucking obsessed with me–”

“Hey,” you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

“Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?” he deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse, and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment.

“What? No,” you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. “It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?”

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit directly on his left thigh.

“You're so fucking wet,” he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. “Fuck.”

“This is what you do to me, Cheolie,” you complain, and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh; he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on. It feels better than you could’ve imagined, and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

“You're so fucking shameless,” he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side.

“For you, not anyone else.”

“You're going to give me a giant head.”

“It'll match your cock.”

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. “You gonna sit on it then?”

“I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women.”

“You're not them,” it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. “I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang; trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?” He scoffs. “I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on, and I know I sure as fuck don't.”

“And what if you knock me up?” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. “What?”

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. “Fuck!” he exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. “You–you fucking idiot!” He lifts his head to look at you. “You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!”

“Good, I like it.” You smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes, and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks.

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers; you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen, and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you. A bit of spanking surely wouldn’t be undesirable, not if it’s Seungcheol’s firm hand landing on your ass.

“You're fucking crazy.”

“Yep.” You grin, and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again, and again, and again.

“Fu–fuck, just ride me, shit,” he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you.

“Don't you like this?” You pout at him, faux-offended, and keep at your grinding. You know he likes it, it's obvious by the tightness of his expression. The pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, in his shoulders pressed back against the seat, and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs.

You really hope he doesn't break them; you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well, that's a real fucking nice thought.

It makes you clench down on him, and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him.

“Can I bite you?” you ask, falling still.

“What the fuck?” He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too.

“Is that a no?” You pout.

“I don't give a fuck, just keep going!” he demands, looking crazed.

“Can I kiss you too?”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding, he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs. “Bounce,” he growls against your lips, before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for, admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his.

“Che–Cheol,” you pant out, knotting your fingers in his hair to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply, and his eyes roll back.

Very interesting reaction indeed.

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled; but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tells you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too.

“Good boy,” you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now; more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you, even with his arms restrained.

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you, and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him.

“Oh, fuck, I–I'm gonna cum,” he warns, making your eyes widen in alarm.

“No!”

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. “The fuck you mean no?”

“You can't cum yet! I'm not done!”

“I'm gonna–”

“No!”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back, and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum.

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” you exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. “You useless man!” You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt, making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

“What the fuck?!”

“What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?” you berate, climbing off him, and wincing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. “To bust in minutes; you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?” you tut and shove him down on the seats.

“Ow, you fucking–” he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. “I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch,” he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body.

“Ooh, call me more names, my likey.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face.

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy where it’s inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner thighs. “You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?”

“I work for you; comes with the job,” you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance while your right hand knots into his hair, making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. “Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie.”

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know.

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit. He's not gentle about it at all; but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

“T–that's it,” you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head, and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe, but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow.

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you let the vibrations of his groans and moans help ride you through your climax as you smother him in your pussy.

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting, but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly.

“Please tell me you have a key for these,” Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid on his back across the seats with his eyes closed.

“No.” You snigger at the pissed off look he gives you once he lifts his head enough to look at you. “Since when have I needed keys to open locks?”

“Good point.” He drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. “Don't.”

“Why not?” You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly, but he clearly likes it, judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

“Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders,” he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. “And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?”

“You actually want to do that?”

“Always have.” He shrugs, then slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back.

“No, you've never wanted to fuck me.” You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them.

“I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit; I've seen the porn you watch.”

“Don't kink shame me.”

“Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!”

“But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself.”

“You've masturbated in my office chair?” he deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet, when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. “Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working.”

“You can always call me, and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth; keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working.”

“This is why I never fucking let you know.” He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. “Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you.” Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. “Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk.”

“Don't need to tell me twice.” You quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs.

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock, purely because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his just freed hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. “Did you just bite my ass?”

“Yes,” your confirmation is utterly shameless, as you stare up at him from where you’re still on your knees.

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint.

“Good girl,” he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at finally having his cock in your mouth. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat from your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up to your feet.

You're not given time to even complain or whine or beg for his cock back before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car, and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy.

“You never explained the knocked-up comment,” he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight.

“What?”

“You said about me getting you knocked up.”

“And?”

“We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile.” He nips at your earlobe a little harshly, and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock.

“Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?”

“Huh, you're into that?”

“I'm into anything if it's you.”

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds, before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own backwards so that he can grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

“Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby,” he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie,” you agree, nodding madly, and arching your back to push back against him, while widening your stance to get him deeper— even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference.

“That's my good fucking girl,” he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly.

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse; you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts, but you do not give a single flying fuck.

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either; he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you— which you can barely babble a response to due to the quickly growing pleasure in your body.

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body, and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and it makes you whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back, and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf.

“You okay?” he asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you.

He’s always cussed at you and called you names while looking at you with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that; the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you, they amuse you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you; even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he’s always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this; the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin, and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never even fucking heard the man use, well, that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt–”

“You can go back to fucking me.”

“You’re still shaking.”

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star, Seungcheol!”

“What happened to Cheolie?”

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on, but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest, and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly that your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.”

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?”

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you.

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See, this is why I never fucking wanted this!” he exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs.

Seungcheol pauses for a split-second, noticing that he hurt you, but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” he barks, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once.

“Seungcheol–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested, and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car— with fake licence plates, and a fake cop in the passenger seat— over the speed limits, without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building, and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the driver’s seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him, and you don’t want that.

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks— and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise—, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot.

It wasn’t instant; there wasn’t a moment where your eyes fatefully locked across the table on that set-up blind date between you and you just knew you were destined to live happily ever after together, that stuff is all bullshit anyway. You met like any other pair on a blind date with nothing spectacularly big and romantic about it. Really, the date was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both easily clocked one another, and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job, and his gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one; but spending time with the man— even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him—, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face.

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well.

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks.

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere— though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt.

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol has anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members, and a fucking good one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed. Or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But it seems, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having feelings for you.

It’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches— which had turned to hurt then anger— to be love. Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically.

Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since; or tucked under it to cockwarm him with your mouth just like you offered. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow, and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly, because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle.

But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth, and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?”

“Me?” you garble around the food still hanging out of your mouth and point at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted, and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?”

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder, but he takes it.

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door, and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’ve parked in to enjoy your lunch.

“What the fuck is in that?!” he shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.

“Coke.”

“That is not coke.”

“Both kinds. And mint schnapps.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction.

It wasn’t even your choice; you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox— where you also found the baggie of illegal drugs— into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first.

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features when you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much.

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a blood pact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved to have the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?”

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this; like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas.

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it, and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?”

“What’s the job?” you ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open, and then he rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off.

“He’s dealing with it.”

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist, so he’s the best chance.”

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch–”

“You set a warehouse on fire last month; that’s not a delicate touch,” he reminds in a deadpan tone. You’d think that after these years of knowing you, he’d be used to your habits and hobbies by now, but nope. Minghao never fails to look at you like he has no idea what kind of demonic entity you truly are under your meatsuit. It’s kind of a compliment, really.

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.”

“You…whatever.” He waves a dismissive hand, batting the subject aside before you can divulge further information about your less than moral interests. Which says a lot coming from the second-in-command of such a notorious gang. “He can handle the job; it’s just a different direction than you’d take.”

“Has he gone in fists swinging?”

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.”

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness growing in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done.

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman bent over his desk. You always just stand there until he notices you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it is you’ve turned up for. It’s all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re personally familiar with, and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something, based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks, but–”

“What?!” you exclaim, slamming on the breaks, and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes.

Minghao yells, which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive, you idiot!”

“He’s fucked the mark?” you ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly.

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you’re an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times; and in a way, you do always scare him, because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone, but you haven’t; you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol. Or to someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear.

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it, but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the aftereffects of; the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down along with anyone who gets in your way.

“He–he hasn’t, but he said he will if he needs to.”

“Where is he?”

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar, and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app, and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh.

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Where is she?” you ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?”

“The mark; Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.”

“And you thought I’d bring her here?”

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over; a black shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hope he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop, to your disappointment. At least you thought he had.

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to, but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?”

“No,” he admits, and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow, and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more.

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before; that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.”

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.”

“Well, maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked-up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?”

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that. You’re not a fuck up.”

“I am. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol, so–”

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out.

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest.

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.”

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?”

“I don’t know, can we?”

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes, and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach.

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?”

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence.”

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t; I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.”

“For how long?”

“This is my apartment–”

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment; I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together; does it end now?”

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?”

“That is our relationship.” You give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.”

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief.

“Well, yeah.”

“Get out.”

“That doesn’t answer–”

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” he snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?”

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond, because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs, and steps backwards away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.”

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” he taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.”

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.”

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did, but obviously, I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did, but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily. You’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.”

“Friends?” you mumble in surprise, because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you, but you’re not sure you could if you tried.

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps, at one point, you could’ve thought of him in such a way, but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right.

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.”

“Have we ever done any of that?” you genuinely wonder quietly.

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol, and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before; never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.”

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life. As you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it.

You listened to his wishes; you left and didn’t return. You deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too, once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too, and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang. And then they started to turn up at your apartments, so you packed up and left the city, and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened.

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment. Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head.

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb, so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two-hour drive from the city, and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker.

You quite like his new friend, and you like playing bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag the expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work; honestly, you think he likes putting on a show for an audience.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car that you can proudly say you didn’t steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him.

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head, and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses.

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right, with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend, who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick, making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain.

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by the two of you. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” you ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the brakes in time for once.

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best,” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly.

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui, who preens proudly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you,” the pimp points out as you all get out of the car.

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily.

“You’re married?”

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches, and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel, making you snort a laugh; at least until he turns and you notice that his glasses are broken, and you can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” he exclaims, taking off the sunglasses, and then carelessly tosses them into the bushes you pass by.

“I’ll get you another pair.”

“Better do. I want Gucci ones.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?”

“They were just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Where?”

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent, knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head.”

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?”

“It was really impressive.” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting; they make a good team.”

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui, who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.”

“You’re mydaddy, not my father,” Junhui scoffs.

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more, but the ding echoes in the metal box, signalling that you’ve arrived at the suite; so he just takes a breath, and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open.

The four of you step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors, and immediately, you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite.

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers.

“You assholes!” one of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!”

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!”

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims, and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.”

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you, but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit.

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you.

“You could say that,” you murmur, and look over to the grand double doors, then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.”

“Do you owe him money?”

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.”

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?”

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan, who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.”

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui, his own expensive watch, and then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason.” His face falls, and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?”

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me, and I like having you watch too!”

“You can discuss this later; we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.”

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly, while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement, so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?”

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol. In fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with; but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally, and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!”

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking– Why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!”

“Yes, I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe, and I’m good at it.”

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” you scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I–” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure, but it’s a solid warning that he could.

You should probably be scared, but you’re not; even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?”

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes.

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer, and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Bitch.” And then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat, and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand, and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved. Which really says a lot.

“Uh.” Of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go; that dude is getting taken to the hospital, and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here, Seungcheol. Hannie and Junnie have already gone.”

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.”

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving.”

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines.

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you.

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug.

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods, then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint.

You hope he won’t crash on the way home, or forget that he’s driving a stolen car, meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail; just like he wouldn’t you. Your blood pact never said anything about prison, after all.

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night— a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave, and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right-hand man just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever; just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.”

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out, earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.”

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you.

“How do you not know?” you scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one.

“Because I’ve never had sex with him.”

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex.”

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not.

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao, who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist; it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.”

“You should’ve stopped!”

“You never did,” you point out, and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Sex is sex.”

“Right.”

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs, and then all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room ensuite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?”

“What else would it be?”

“It means nothing?”

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again, the one that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“And that means choking and kissing me?”

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.”

“No.”

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that will drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this, you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word; at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. It hurts me too; seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!”

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.”

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right, but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.”

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.”

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean–”

“Cheol.” He immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long, but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?”

“You said we’re not even friends.”

“We’re not; we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” You sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words, and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me, and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.”

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him; when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained, and then we could’ve…things would be different.”

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help, but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existence and planning to fuck a mark, and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.”

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this; I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side, so come back, please.”

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?”

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.”

“Sex works great; that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was, and I’d really fucking love to do that more; I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.”

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?”

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no; you keep that in your freaky head.”

“Noted. What about anal?”

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?”

“Stuffing.”

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie.”

“Mm.” He slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race.

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out, and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Oh, really?” He nods, and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.”

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love; we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused, and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up and beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now–”

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him.

“I was going to say let’s sleep, but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin, while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom.

“You didn’t answer me about anal.”

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?”

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass; it’s made to be fucked.”

“Uh, I’ll consider it.”

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me.”

“What, why?”

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk, and that never happened.”

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!”

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me.”

“Yeah, yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt. You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unfastens his belt. “Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” he asks while teasingly dragging his fingers across the skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy.”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso, and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly, then sit up fully so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands— while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy.”

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.”

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?”

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?”

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.”

“I really must be insane.”

“We match well then, huh?”

“Mm.” He leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids; they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.”

“Our house would be so fucking loud and chaotic, our neighbours would hate us.”

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married; away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.”

“There’s a park down the road.”

“No,” he scoffs, and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.”

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?”

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.”

“Sounds like a party.” You grin and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.”

“Mm, it would. You need to be naked for that though, baby.”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably.

“You really want me to dance for you?”

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.”

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.”

“Guess we need to invest in some gags.”

“Guess we do,” he murmurs, and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day; I need to fuck you too much right now.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, baby.”

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes, so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” he gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees.

“Years of practise.”

“Stripping?”

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.”

“Well…good job.” He leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you.

“Thank you,” you preen, and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please.”

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart.”

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward.”

“Mm.” He shuffles down a little, so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and handprints to mark his property.

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock, but it’ll do for now.”

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin.

“Make me.”

“Brat.”

“You like it.”

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all; your jaw drops enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans.

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you.

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily, before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter, and fingers grip at him.

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster.

“H–how much can you take?” he asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal.

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels.

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress, and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you.

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city. Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out; Soonyoung seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit, and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open, with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t–I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out as he starts to.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly shaky hands, but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock.

“Babe–”

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungcheol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another.

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh, but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider, and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting, but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his.

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is, and your entire body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed, and you don’t even care. Neither does he.

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little, and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like this than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread thighs.

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick, harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack, and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit, and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again, while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist and his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?”

“Cheol–”

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap: this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is.

“Fuck, y–yeah. Don’t stop,” you agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But…”

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares, before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession.

It’s only a few seconds of the combination; the intense pleasure from all ministrations melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin, which only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls.

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck, and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly, and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock, but it’s still almost too much stimulation.

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body.

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite, and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” he asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response.

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well, and you’d give you both top marks.

And then, he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow, and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it.

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you, that nobody else ever will. You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really; not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already. And now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on painful in the most delicious of ways, so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes, and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in.

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out, just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you; you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up; you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck.

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.”

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?”

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?”

“No.” You wiggle your ass, making him groan, and then bite your shoulder in retaliation.

“Don’t get me hard again; I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.”

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.”

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?”

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and then wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.”

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.”

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?”

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me; you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I think I’m okay with that.” There’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise.

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you; his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

Fic 1: "Rest With Me" Kim Hongjoong x gn!Reader Inspired by "I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song" WC: TBD Summary: Your boyfriend tells you he loves you for the first time when he thinks you're not listening.

Fic 2: "Not Anymore" Park Seonghwa x gn!Reader Inspired by "Lover's Cross" WC: TBD Summary: You and Seonghwa decide you can't take it anymore at the same time.

Fic 3: "That's Not the Way it Feels" Jeong Yunho x fem!Reader Inspired by "Operator (That's Not the Way it Feels)" WC: TBD Summary: Yunho struggles to get over you after catching you cheating with his best friend.

Fic 4: "You're the One" Kang Yeosang x gn!Reader Inspired by "Time in a Bottle" WC: TBD Summary: Falling in love with Yeosang was a slow but beautiful process. Now, you can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

Fic 5: "Love Away All Your Pain" Choi San x fem!Reader Inspired by "Tomorrow's Gonna Be a Brighter Day" WC: TBD Summary: After a series of ups and downs in your relationship, you and San swear to love each other better.

Fic 6: One Less Set of Footsteps Song Mingi x fem!Reader Inspired by "One Less Set of Footsteps" WC: TBD Summary: You and Mingi realize that your relationship has run its course, so you decide to stop wasting each other's time.

Fic 7: Not My Lifetime Lover Jung Wooyoung x fem!Reader Inspired by "Thursday" WC: TBD Summary: You're happy to have a casual relationship with Wooyoung until he walks away to find something different.

Fic 8: Dreaming of You Choi Jongho x gn!Reader Inspired by "These Dreams" WC: TBD Summary: Right when you least expect it, you find your way back to the man that you love.

You knew that Kuanjui liked to act out sometimes, but you hadn’t really seen him do that yet. After all, your relationship was still new, and your role as his dom was even newer, meaning it would probably take time for him to feel comfortable enough to show you how much of a brat he could be. Still, you were sure you’d get to see it soon enough.

Your suspicions were proven correct when you came home from work one night and found Kuanjui on your couch with his hand around his cock and porn playing from his laptop. Two things that you’d previously agreed he had to ask for your permission to do. Two things that he had not, in fact, asked for permission to do.

“What are you doing?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Got desperate,” he panted as he continued stroking.

“Why didn’t you ask, princess? I’ve literally never told you no.”

With a whine, he said, “Wanted to see what you’d do.”

At first, you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do. Then, you got an idea, and without a word, you went to your bedroom. Once you were there, you opened the box of toys you kept in your closet and found a harness and dildo that you knew he liked. Then, you went back to the living room and said, “Stand up,” as you paused the video playing from his laptop and placed the toys on the table. The tone of your voice left no room for argument, so he finally did exactly what he was told.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. Since you were so desperate to get off you couldn’t even wait for me to get home, I’m not fucking you tonight. Instead, you’re going to get on your knees and suck on this dildo.” Kuanjui whined softly, so you added, “You’re either going to take what I give you, or I'm not giving you anything. Do you understand?”

Kuanjui nodded, but didn’t speak, so you repeated, “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

With that, you stepped away from him, removing the clothing still covering your bottom half. Then, you grabbed the dildo from its place on the table to finally attach it to the harness. You saw Kuanjui perk up slightly when he realized which toy you chose, but before he got his hopes up too high, you said, “Remember what I said? I’m not fucking you tonight.”

“Then why should I do it?”

“Because if you actually do what you’re told, I might consider letting you cum later.” Kuanjui whined at the idea, and you added, “You were the one that wanted to see what I would do if you broke a rule, sweetheart. This is what I’m going to do.”

Kuanjui rolled his eyes at that, but he still got on his knees. He looked up at you like he wanted to protest, but before he could say a word, you gave him a look that he knew better than to argue with. So, he carefully took the dildo in his mouth, hesitantly sucking on it.

“Come on, angel,” you teased. “I know you can do better than that.”

Kuanjui moaned around the toy and started to move his head faster, closing his eyes as he found a rhythm. The sight almost made you wish you didn’t have to use a toy as you wondered what his mouth would actually feel like wrapped around you.

You quickly chased away the thoughts, though, instead focusing on how gorgeous Kuanjui looked when he actually behaved. As he continued sucking, you tangled your hands in his hair, moving his head just a little bit faster than before and struggling to maintain your composure as you listened to him moaning and whimpering around the toy. Every moment watching the man you loved made you want the moment to last forever.

You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed, since you’d gotten so lost in how beautiful Kuanjui looked on his knees, but when you decided that he’d done enough, you said, “You can stop now. Stand up, darling.” Once he was standing again, you removed the harness and pulled him closer, softly kissing his cheek before you said, “You did so well for me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, ma’am.”

The two of you stayed exactly where you were for a while after that, with Kuanjui relaxing in your arms and you whispering soft reassurances to make sure he didn’t get too overwhelmed after the scene. Truthfully, the moments like this were your favorite part of your relationship. The moments where you could help him relax and take care of him.

Once you were sure that Kuanjui would be ok, you went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. You even used his favorite shaped ice cubes, the ones that looked like tiny roses. When you brought it back to him, his eyes seemed to light up as he said, “You remembered!”

“Yeah, because I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said before he drank the water.

After he finished drinking, you asked, “What’s your color, angel?”

“Green, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Now, since you took your punishment so well,” you said, “do you want my hands or my mouth?”

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

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If someone had asked you when you first moved in with Jeonghan if you thought that you’d be dancing in a sketchy club, you would have laughed in their faces. But there you were, dancing on stage night after night, trying desperately to pretend that the looks you got from the club’s clientele didn’t make your skin crawl.

You hated your job, but Jeonghan loved that you did it, and you wanted to make Jeonghan happy. After all, you loved Jeonghan with every fiber of your being. Plus, you knew from experience that making him happy was how you got to stay in the cushy apartment he rented and keep wearing the fancy clothes he bought you. Sure, you didn’t exactly love that he only bought you clothes that showed off your body, but you were desperate to stay in a relationship with the man you loved and stay out of the life that you’d left behind when you moved in with him. So, you kept your mouth shut.

The one positive part of your job was your friendship with Hansol, one of the club’s bartenders. You knew he hadn’t been around long, but you didn’t know exactly how long he’d worked there. Actually, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t know a lot about him at all.

“Another great show tonight, doll,” Hansol said with his signature smile as you approached the bar and took a seat.

“Thanks, cupcake,” you replied with a wink.

“Your usual?”

“Sounds great. Thanks, ‘sol.”

“No problem, angel,” he said as he turned away to make your drink.

The bar was pretty much empty by the time your shift ended, with the few patrons left paying off their tabs with Chan, the other bartender. That meant you had pretty much all of Hansol’s attention in that moment, and you loved it.

“So, sweetheart,” you said, “got plans after work?”

“Not really,” Hansol answered with a shrug as he handed you a glass. “Just going home to catch up on some sleep. Why? You wanna make some plans, princess?”

“Maybe. Depends on whether you think you’d be able to keep up with me,” you said before taking a sip.

As you continuted to chat with Hansol and drink your cocktail, you felt yourself relax for the first time in weeks. Between your job and your relationship with Jeonghan, sometimes it felt like all that mattered about you was your appearance. But when you were talking to Hansol, he treated you like you were a person with thoughts and ideas that actually had value.

At some point, however, your phone vibrated, and you knew without looking that it was Jeonghan. So, you smiled, paid for your drink, thanked Hansol for the conversation, and got an Uber to go home.

When you got back to your apartment, Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and asked, “What were you doing out so late? It's an hour after your shift.

“I wanted a drink after work so I sat at the bar and got one.”

“You didn't think to ask first? Or at least tell me?”

“I don't need permission to get a drink, Hannie,” you answered. “Especially because I didn't even leave the club.”

“Whatever, I'm going to bed.”

“Fine. Good night.” Almost as an afterthought, you added, “I love you.”

Jeonghan didn't respond as he walked away.

A few weeks later, you stayed after work for a drink again. Sure, you knew that Jeonghan wouldn’t exactly be happy when you got home, but honestly, you didn’t care. You’d had a shitty shift, and you wanted a drink to take the edge off. It didn’t exactly hurt that Hansol was working that night, either.

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you were so drawn to Hansol. All you knew was that you loved when his attention was on you, especially when no one else was around. Sure, you’d always loved attention, which made your job significantly easier, but the way you felt when you were around Hansol was different.

You thought about it a little bit more, and you realized that it was exactly what you felt when you first started dating Jeonghan. It was the giddy excitement that you’d thought was love four years before, and the realization made your stomach churn with guilt and fear.

Before you could think about it any more, though, Hansol got your attention and asked, “What'll it be today, angel? Your usual?”

You nodded and said, “Sounds great, ‘sol.”

“Not gonna flirt back? I'm hurt,” Hansol quipped, feigning offense.

“I'm just tired today,” you mumbled.

“Rough shift?”

“That and boy trouble.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of trouble?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, you heard a familiar voice behind you ask, “Is this what you do while you’re supposed to be at work, sweetheart? Just sit at the bar and complain about ‘boy trouble?’”

You immediately stood up from your seat, turning to greet your boyfriend. “Hi, Hannie. I just wanted to get a drink after my shift.”

“Why not come back home for a drink?”

“I’m not ready to go yet,” you answered halfheartedly.

“Why? We could have some fun when we get home,” Jeonghan said as he looked you up and down. “You know the outfit you have on tonight is one of my favorites.”

Jeonghan looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could, Hansol cleared his throat and asked, “Are you gonna order something, or are you just gonna harass my customers?”

“I’m not harassing her. She’s my girlfriend,” Jeonghan answered, wrapping his arm around your waist as he spoke. You jumped at the contact, and he just grabbed your waist tighter.

“Doesn’t change that you’re acting like a creep right now.”

“It’s ok, Hansol,” you said, forcing a smile as you tried to keep things from escalating. Then, you turned back to Jeonghan and said, “I’ll come home with you after I get a drink, ok? Then we can have as much fun as you want, promise.”

“Alright, I’ll go wait in the car. I love you,” Jeonghan answered before he pulled you in for a kiss. Hansol cleared his throat again, and Jeonghan stepped away from the bar.

After Jeonghan walked away, you sat back down and said, “Sorry about that. He comes in sometimes to check on me while I work. I didn’t know he was coming or I would have avoided the bar.” Hansol gave you a concerned look, so you quickly added, “He just wants to make sure I’m safe, considering the types of people that come into the club.”

Hansol nodded slowly as he said, “Right.”

“What? You don’t believe that he wants what’s best for me?”

“I believe that if he does, he has an odd way of showing it.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying not to get too defensive.

“It’s nothing,” Hansol answered. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business, but I really think that you should try to leave him.”

You thought about what Hansol said for a minute before you replied, “Look, I know it looks bad, but he does love me.”

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t. I’m just saying that the way he treats you isn’t a healthy kind of love,” he said as he stepped away to get your drink.

You were quiet after that, getting lost in your own thoughts while you waited. When Hansol set your cocktail on the bar, you gave him a halfhearted smile and said, “Thanks.”

Unlike your usual interactions, you finished your drink and paid without a word before going home to think. Sure, you knew that what you had with Jeonghan wasn’t healthy, but you didn’t know if you could walk away. After all, you had no family in the area, and the only person you really thought of as a friend was Hansol. So really, who was there to turn to besides Jeonghan?

The next day, you walked into the club like you owned it, desperate not to let Jeonghan’s actions the night before bother you. Sure, that was easier said than done, but no one in the building knew just how bothered you really were, and that was what mattered most to you while you worked.

After your last dance of the night, you walked backstage, got changed, and walked past the bar instead of stopping for a drink. Hansol noticed you walking by and called your name before he asked, “Where are you going? You’re not gonna get something to drink today?”

“Can’t,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“Why not, princess?” Hansol teased. “I thought you enjoyed our little ritual.”

Something in your chest stirred when Hansol called you “princess.” You didn’t quite knew what it was, but you knew that it was too much to handle in that moment, so you barked, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“Well I wasn’t trying to get held up when I just wanna go home, Hansol.”

“Alright what the fuck has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Well it’s also none of your goddamn business!” you practically yelled as you stormed out of the bar.

Once you were finally out of the club, you started to cool off, and that was when you plopped yourself onto the sidewalk and started to cry. You honestly had no clue where the tears came from, considering the fact that you’d always been good at keeping the storm in your head that seemed to never end hidden from the rest of the world. Still, your frustration with yourself for crying in public didn’t change the situation, so you desperately tried to focus on anything else long enough to calm down.

You had no idea how much time had passed before you heard a familiar voice ask, “What’s going on, angel? This isn’t like you.”

“I’m just so tired,” you answered through the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Hansol said softly, sitting down next to you and pulling you into a hug.

Through your tears, you told Hansol about everything that you’d tried to pretend didn’t matter to you. The late night fights that started because you’d had the “audacity” to tell him no, the accusations of not really loving him every time you told him that he’d hurt you, and every other moment you never wanted to relive poured out of you like wine out of a bottle. By the time you were done, you felt like you were going to throw up as you really thought about everything that Jeonghan had put you through.

Hansol was silent as he fully processed what you were sure that he’d already figured out. You were terrified of him judging you for falling in love with someone like Jeonghan, just like your friends and family back home had done. Instead, though, when he finally did speak, he just said, “Let me help you.”

“Help with what?"

“Leaving him.”

“What?”

“You need to leave him. None of this is right, and I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

“I can’t. As bad as he is, you don’t know what I left behind when I moved here with him.”

“I know that you don't have to go back to it, though. Not while I'm here.”

“Why are you so invested in my relationship, ‘sol?”

Hansol was quiet for a minute, like he was struggling to figure out how to answer your question. When he was finally ready to speak, he asked, “How long do you think I've been working here, angel?” You didn't answer him, so he continued, “Six months. Do you know how I got this job?” You shook your head, and he said, “Seungkwan owed me a favor, and I needed to get out of my hometown quickly. Do you know why?”

Again, you shook your head, once again realizing how little you knew about him compared to what he knew about you, and you asked, “Why?”

“I was with a woman that treated me the exact same way Jeonghan treats you,” he answered, sounding like he was fighting tears of his own. “Took everything I had to walk away without any help. It would kill me to not at least try to be the person that I needed when I left her.” You were quiet for a minute, and he added, “Even if it’s just spending time together outside of work so that you’re not alone with him all the time. Please.”

And just like that, you started to cry again. Whether you were crying for yourself or for Hansol, or both for that matter, you had no idea. All you knew was that you were desperate to not feel so lonely. So, once you felt like you could breathe again, you whispered, “Please help me.”

Hansol gently wiped your tears before cupping your face in his hand as he said, “I will. It’s going to be ok, I promise.”

Something about how gentle Hansol was with you gave you a sense of calmness that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and you knew as he held you that you could trust him.

A few days after Hansol offered to help you leave, you called him and asked, “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, why?”

“Jeonghan is out with his friends, and I just need an escape from it all. Do you wanna go out and do something?”

“Define ‘something,’ princess.”

You thought about it for a minute before you said, “Well, maybe we could go to the cafe by the club?”

“That sounds great, angel. I’ll be there in 15?”

“That works. I’ll get ready. See you soon, honey.”

With that, you hung up, got dressed in one of the less revealing outfits you’d managed to convince Jeonghan to let you buy, and left for the cafe. When you got there, Hansol was already sitting at one of the tables with two chocolate chip muffins sitting in front of him.

“I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee, so I didn’t order you a drink, but I got us muffins.”

“Thanks, ‘sol. I’m gonna go get a drink, and I’ll be back.”

With that, you left the table to order your coffee. While you waited for it, you thought about what you wanted to talk to Hansol about. Sure, you wanted to start planning to leave Jeonghan, but at the same time, you didn’t want that your failed relationship to be the only topic of conversation. After all, you wanted a genuine friendship with Hansol.

Your name was called, snapping you out of your thoughts, so you grabbed your drink, paid for it, and went back to your table. When you sat down, you asked, “So, now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Should we start planning? To deal with Jeonghan, I mean.”

“Ok first of all, calling it ‘dealing with Jeonghan’ makes it sound like you’re planning to kill him,” Hansol answered with a laugh. “Second, why don’t we just talk tonight? There’s plenty of time to plan, and you look like you need a break.”

With a sigh, you said, “I really do.”

“Well then, enough about Jeonghan for tonight. Tell me about you.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Anything that you’re comfortable telling me, doll.”

After a moment of thought, you answered, “I worked at the public library in my hometown before I moved here with Jeonghan.”

Hansol’s eyes widened as he said, “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“A lot of people don’t. I stopped telling people because of it. I got tired of the judgment and pity.”

“Pity?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Most people see going from ‘librarian’ to ‘stripper’ as a downgrade and look at me like they’re trying to figure out what life choices led me to this point. A couple of people have actually asked me what I’m doing in ‘in a place like that’ considering I’m ‘such a nice girl.’”

“I’m guessing the answer to that question is Jeonghan?” Hansol asked hesitantly.

“Yeah.” You were silent for a minute before you added, “When we first met, he told me that he loved seeing me do my job, but after we moved, he said that I should be doing something that actually fits ‘someone like me.’”

“I really hate that guy, you know.”

“I know. What I don’t know is why I still love him.”

“The heart works in mysterious ways.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You were quiet for a second before you added, “Now tell me about you. I don’t wanna get all sad again.”

"I’m not sure if asking me about my life is a good way to avoid talking about something sad, sweetheart,” Vernon answered with a laugh. After another minute of thought, though, he said, “I know it isn't the most glamorous life, but to tell you the truth, I really love being a bartender. I don't think I would go back to the job I had before, even if I actually had a chance.”

“What did you do before?”

“Some boring office job. I don't even remember what the official job title was. It was basically spreadsheets all day every day for like, shockingly good pay.

“Would you go back for the money?” you asked.

“Hell no. I don't make as much as I used to, but it is enough to pay the bills. Besides, going to work doesn't make me wanna run into oncoming traffic anymore, which is worth everything.”

As you thought about what Hansol said, you silently hoped that you'd be able to stop working at the club one day. After all, you wanted to find the same joy in what you did that he had. You'd had it when you worked at the library, but now, it was hard to push through the way you felt when you danced.

Not wanting to think about that anymore, you just said, “I'm really happy for you, "‘sol.”

With that, Hansol reached across the table, taking your hand in his as he said, “We're gonna get you there too, angel. I promise.”

Not knowing what else to say, you mumbled, “I really like it when you call me angel.”

“Well, I really like you,” Hansol answered without missing a beat.

That was when you smiled for the first time in what felt like hours and asked, “You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

You were quiet for a minute after that, deciding what to say next. When you saw the anxiety written all over Hansol’s face, though, you squeezed his hand and said, “I like you too.”

“Does that mean we're actually-”

“Yes,” you answered.

With that, the two of you got up to throw away your trash and left, walking out of the cafe with your hands intertwined and a new source of hope for the future.

Jeonghan was out with his friends again when you texted Hansol and asked him if you could come over. He said yes in a heartbeat, texting you his address. So, you got ready and left, turning your phone’s location off so your boyfriend wouldn’t figure out where you were.

When you got to Hansol’s apartment, he had soft-looking blankets laid out on the couch, a movie ready to play on the TV, and a variety of snacks set out on the coffee table. You almost teared up as you hugged him and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked before he kissed your forehead.

“Doing all of this for me.”

“You know I do it because I care about you, right?”

“I know, but it still means a lot to me.”

“Well, you mean a lot to me.”

The two of you were silent after that, just enjoying each other’s presence before you let go of Hansol, took his hand, and pulled him over to the couch to ask, “What movie did you choose?”

“Just some rom-com. Are you ready?” he asked. You nodded, and he pressed play.

After Hansol pressed play, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned closer to him as you really relaxed for the first time all day. The two of you didn’t stay focused on the movie for very long, though. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, and you had climbed into his lap.

A soft sigh slipped out of your mouth as you relaxed on top of him, and Hansol brought his hands down to your hips. His mouth on yours felt like heaven, and as you lost yourself in the feeling, a small part of you wondered if a future with him was really possible.

Hansol gripped your hips tighter, groaning softly as you kissed him and snapping you out of your thoughts. After he pulled away for air, he said, “You feel so good on top of me.”

That was when you noticed his erection pressing against you, and your heart dropped. You'd been pushing yourself way harder at work lately, and you were way too tired to go any further than kissing. As you got lost in thought, you silently hoped that Hansol really was nothing like Jeonghan.

“Hey, what's going on, princess?” Hansol asked, gently cupping your face with his band. “You look a little lost in thought.”

“Sorry, just tired. Would it be ok to just cuddle?”

“Of course, angel,” Hansol answered, helping you off of his lap and pulling you close. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you answered, trying not to show that you were caught off guard.

“You know I’m not upset with you, right?” he asked hesitantly.

“You’re not?”

“Darling, why the fuck would I be upset with you for saying no?” he asked, both confused and concerned. The look on your face must have given something away, because his expression immediately shifted from confusion to horror as he said, “That piece of shit.”

You practically jumped away from Hansol when you realized he was angry, immediately trying to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m not angry with you, sweetheart,” he answered, softening his voice and taking your hands in his. “I promise you I’m not angry with you. You can always, always, say no to me. Ok?”

You nodded as you tried to steady your breathing, immediately pulling Hansol closer to you while you processed the fact that he actually respected you. You had a fleeting thought that maybe you could have a real relationship with him if you actually left Jeonghan, but you quickly shooed the thought away. After all, you needed to find the strength to actually walk away first.

For the rest of the night, you and Hansol didn’t speak much. Instead, both of you got lost in your thoughts as you watched another movie. You had no idea what Hansol was thinking about, but you knew that you were thinking about what else you needed to do to prepare to leave Jeonghan for good.

It was late when your phone vibrated, and you knew without looking that it was a text from Jeonghan asking you to pick him up because he got too drunk. So, you looked up at Hansol and said, “I think I need to go now.”

“That’s ok. Next time you’re here, though, I have some things to show you.”

“What are they?”

“Just some things I found that might help when you’re ready.”

“Ready?”

“To leave Jeonghan.”

“Oh, right. Thank you.”

“No problem, doll.”

With that, you checked your phone to get the address, gave Hansol another quick peck on the cheek, and left to find your drunk disaster of a boyfriend. As you drove, you thought about ways to prepare to finally walk away from the man you’d thrown away years of your life for.

You spent as much time as you possibly could with Hansol after that night. He made you feel seen in a way you didn't know was possible, he treated you like a queen every time you were together, and you actually felt like a person with him instead of an object. It was exactly what you’d missed about being in love since you’d been with Jeonghan.

Eventually, though, Jeonghan started to get suspicious of how much time you spent out of the house. On a day that you had plans with Hansol, he stopped you before you left and asked, “Where are you going, star?”

“Oh, just some shopping with a coworker,” you answered without missing a beat, used to lying to him by that point. “One of the other dancers at work asked me for help choosing a dress for her sister’s wedding.”

“Which dancer?” Jeonghan pressed. “And are you planning to buy anything?”

“Sojeong. And I’m not buying any clothes, but I asked her to get lunch after we’re done, and I’ll be paying for that.”

Jeonghan considered what you told him for a minute before he said, “Ok, but if you change your mind and do want to buy clothes, I expect photos before anything is paid for.”

“I understand,” you answered with a nod, trying desperately not to give yourself away by looking too happy.

With that, Jeonghan kissed your forehead and said, “I hope you have fun,” and you left.

To be fair, what you’d told Jeonghan hadn’t been a complete lie. You were in fact going to the mall with Hansol, and you did make an agreement with him that if he paid for the clothes that you were going to keep at his place, you would buy him food after. Plus, Sojeong’s sister really was getting married soon. You’d overheard her talking about it at work, and you knew that she would never tell Jeonghan that you were lying about helping her choose a dress.

And after you got lunch with Hansol, you went to a nearby gas station, withdrew money from the station’s ATM, and put it into an account that Jeonghan had no knowledge of. After all, you knew that you’d need money that he couldn’t touch.

Hansol continued helping you get just a little bit closer to leaving Jeonghan every time you snuck out with him. Whether it was making space in his closet for your clothes, helping you look for another job for when you quit working at the club, or holding while you cried over the decisions that had gotten you to this point, he was right there.

“I’m really proud of you,” Hansol told you as the two of you worked together to fold your clothes so that they would fit in the drawers he’d cleared out for you.

“That means a lot, cupcake.”

“Well, you mean a lot to me,” he said before he leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“You mean a lot to me too,” you said, your face growing warm as you tried to maintain your composure.

Before you knew it, the clothes were folded, and it was time for you to leave. So, you kissed Hansol one last time and started to drive home. While you drove, you thought about Hansol and how much had changed since he entered your life, and how badly you wanted to experience whatever else life threw your way by his side.

As your relationship with Hansol progressed, you felt more ready than you’d ever been to actually walk away. Sure, there were still a few practical steps that you had to take, like saving a little bit more money and buying some last minute supplies, but you knew that all of it would be ok as long as you had Hansol.

Just when you thought life was getting better, everything came crashing down. Your relationship with Hansol was the first thing to fall apart, because of course it was. The universe had always been cruel to you that way, reminding you that the good things in your life were never meant to last.

It happened when you were least expecting it. You’d brought Hansol to your apartment, since you thought Jeonghan was at work, and the two of you were planning to start packing your things so you could move into Hansol’s apartment with him when you were ready. When you walked into your living room, however, you found Jeonghan sitting in the middle of the couch, looking angrier than you’d ever seen him.

“What the fuck have you been doing,” he asked, every word dripping with disdain.

“I-”

“You know what, I don’t want to hear it,” Jeonghan said, standing up and stepping in front of you. “Do you want to go back home? Back to them? Is that why you’re so determined to destroy our relationship?”

Your stomach started doing backflips as you thought about what your life was like before you met Jeonghan, and the thought alone was enough for you to start to reconsider. So, you stepped slightly away from Hansol and whispered, “I can't go back.”

“Exactly.” With that, Jeonghan stepped just a tiny bit closer, making sure only you could hear him whisper, “If you don't stop this, I'll drag you back there myself.”

And that was what broke you.

As you started to cry, you turned toward Hansol and said, “I think you should leave.”

You could tell Hansol didn't want to, but something about the way your entire demeanor changed told him that he shouldn't interfere in this moment, if for no other reason than to keep you safe. So, he softly said, “I'll be here whenever you're ready, angel.” Then, he walked out of your apartment, leaving you alone with Jeonghan.

The silence that fell after Hansol left almost shattered you, but you knew from experience that if Jeonghan saw you crying, it wouldn't end well. So, you bottled everything up as Jeonghan pulled you into a stiff hug and said, “Never forget that you're mine.”

The day that Jeonghan proposed should have been one of the happiest of your life. After all, you’d wanted to get married since you were a little kid, and now you were one step closer to the happily ever after you’d always wanted. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. But instead of anything even close to joy or excitement, you just felt broken, trying desperately not to crumble as Jeonghan slid the clearly expensive ring onto your finger.

“Doesn’t it look perfect, baby?” he asked as he held your hand up to admire the way the diamonds sparkled in the light.

“It does. I love you, Hannie,” you said, trying to fight back tears that you’d tell Jeonghan were tears of joy if he noticed.

“I love you too, my star.”

A month after Jeonghan proposed, the two of you were out shopping for more fiance-approved clothes for you to wear on dates. While you looked at dresses that you could only hope he would say yes to, he walked away to find some shoes that he said he needed for work.

The second Jeonghan was out of earshot, you heard a familiar voice say your name and ask, “How have you been?"

“I’m fine, Hansol,” you answered, trying desperately to keep your face and voice neutral. “How are you?”

“Are you alright, angel?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, your voice breaking. With a sigh, you collected yourself and whispered, “I don’t want him to hear you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. You were silent in response, too embarrassed to admit it. You didn’t have to though, since he said, “You stayed.”

“We’re engaged now.”

“What?”

“He proposed a few weeks ago.”

“And you said yes?”

“I still love him,” you mumbled, unsure how else to defend yourself. Before you could say anything else, you heard Jeonghan approaching, so you said, “Go home, Hansol. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Hansol looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. So, you silently watched the man you loved walk away and went back to planning the rest of your life with the man that you thought that you were supposed to love.

For days after you ran into Hansol at the mall, you couldn't get the look in his eyes out of your head. The fear of promising Jeonghan forever, the guilt of not keeping your promise to Hansol, and the longing for a forever with Hansol instead of Jeonghan kept you up at night. Before you saw him again, you’d tried desperately to forget how you felt with him and accept that you were meant to live your life with Jeonghan. But now that you knew that Hansol still cared about you, how could you let that go?

The truth of the matter was that you couldn’t. Even as you tried to focus on planning your wedding, your thoughts drifted back to Hansol. What cake flavor would he choose if he was the groom instead of Jeonghan? What flowers would he want decorating the venue? Would he want to choose the song for your first dance together, instead of just deciding and telling you to listen to it before the wedding like Jeonghan?

You finally got tired of wondering on your way home from a dress fitting. You’d spent hours in the bridal shop, modeling countless options for Jeonghan to approve. Every dress had something you loved about it, but the elements that you adored were exactly what Jeonghan despised. Whether it was a lace trim that he thought looked too expensive or an elaborate beaded bodice that he said made you look “too classy for someone in your position,” every single thing that made you happy got stomped on, and you finally broke.

The ride home was dead silent until you finally sat up straighter in your seat and said, “I’m done.”

“What?” Jeonghan asked, already irritated.

“I said I’m done, Jeonghan.”

“What do you mean ‘done?’” he asked.

“I’m not marrying you.”

Jeonghan was silent for a minute before he said, “You’re throwing away almost five years together?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna tell me why?”

“No.”

Jeonghan slammed his hand on the top of the steering wheel, making you jump before he said, “You have three days to pack your things and get out. I don’t care where you end up, but you’re not staying in the apartment.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Do you have a plan for where to go, then?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

With that, the two of you drove home in silence. When you got back to the apartment, you immediately gathered all of your belongings and packed everything into suitcases you’d been keeping hidden in your closet. You knew that you needed to organize it all, but you didn’t care about that in the moment. All you cared about was getting out.

After everything you owned was packed up and ready to go, you called Hansol. You probably should have done that before you broke it off with Jeonghan, but you weren’t thinking clearly when it happened. So, you just hoped that he would pick up.

“Hello?” Hansol asked, clearly confused.

“It’s me,” you said through the tears that had started to fall.

“Angel? What’s going on?”

“Do you still have the clothes that we bought?”

“Yeah, I do,” he answered hesitantly. “Why do you-”

“I left him,” you said, not letting him finish his question.

The line was silent for what felt like an eternity before he said, “I’m so fucking proud of you. Do you need me to come get you when my shift ends?”

“Please,” you responded as you tried to calm down.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, princess. Just breathe for me, ok? It’s gonna be ok. I’ll pick you up, we can go back to my place, and it’ll all be ok.”

“Thank you,” you choked out.

“Are you gonna be ok while I finish my shift? I think I have like an hour left.”

“I’ll be ok,” you answered, starting to calm down.

“I’ve gotta go back to work now, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He was quiet for a minute before he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said before hanging up.

After the call ended, you stayed in what was no longer your bedroom and tried to keep your breathing steady until Hansol picked you up. While you waited, you processed the fact that he told you that he loved you. Not only that, but you said it back.

You’d spent months trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t true, but now that you could actually be with Hansol without Jeonghan getting in the way, you knew that there was no denying that you were in love with him, and you knew that you would be safe with him.

After all of your things were moved into Hansol’s apartment, the first thing you did was quit your job at the club. After all, you had enough in your savings to pay your share of the bills for a couple of months, and Hansol had insisted that you find a job that you actually enjoyed and felt safe going to.

Finding a new job was hard, especially considering the career that you’d just left behind, but after weeks of looking, you managed to get a job at the public library. It took what felt like an eternity for the application process to end, but when you got the call, you felt lighter than you had in years.

Hansol was there for you every step of the way while you got ready for your first day. While you ironed your outfit the night before, Hansol told you stories about the people that he'd met at the club since you left. When you lost your favorite pen an hour before you had to leave, he was right alongside you digging through the couch cushions until you found it. When your shoes were on, and he could see your full outfit in the mirror, he looked at you like you were made of stardust and said, “You look so happy. It's beautiful.”

“I feel happy.”

Hansol pulled you into a hug as he said, “See? I told you that I would get you out.”

“I know.” You were silent for another minute before you added, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, angel. I always will.”

With that, Hansol kissed your forehead, and you left for work. As you drove to the library, you couldn't help but think that you were finally starting to feel like yourself again.

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

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Part of him thinks that perhaps it never mattered really, not when they spilled his so easily for their own whims, made him spill others’. It doesn’t matter whose he wears now, it’s all the same in the end. They all deserve it at this point.

Chest heaving, searching for oxygen only half of him needs, he doesn’t slow, doesn’t give anyone the chance to escape the fate they designed for themselves. Even if they didn’t know it at the time. Neither did he, but he does now.

The bottom of his sturdy boot comes down on the final door, and he barges in, gun raised and ready to mow down every single human in this reprehensible lab, hidden away beneath the forest edging a small town nobody has heard of. That nobody cares about.

Yet, the eyes that stare at him from the examination bed — nothing more than a metal table — don’t belong to a human. One eye has the distinctive, electronic blue glow he knows is mirrored in one of his own. A cyborg; part human, part machine. Like him. The other eye stares at him, wide in fear and confusion, human. Not like him. He lost his humanity long ago.

“I won’t hurt you,” he declares, words leaving before he fully realises what he’s doing, already lowering his gun to approach where you lay naked and vulnerable strapped to the metal table, leather around your limbs, your waist, your throat. “I won’t hurt you,” he repeats, putting down his gun on the table behind him once he’s standing on your right, eyes darting over your binds with a frown; sympathetic and remembering. Hating. Hurting.

You say nothing, just continue to stare up at him with those big eyes, only one holding any real emotion, the other calculating as the computer implanted in your brain scans his face, brings up any information about him that it can find. But he knows it will find nothing; he doesn’t exist. Not anymore. This lab was his last chance to find out why, but his anger got the better of him and now all he has to show for his mission is the blood staining his skin.

“Can you hear me?” he asks. “Do you understand what I am saying to you?” Slowly, as if it takes a whole lot of effort and concentration, you nod. “Good. I will untie you, please stay still. I don’t want to hurt you, but if I think you’re going to try to hurt me I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He’s not sure if you take his warning to heart, you don’t react in any way past a single blink up at him, but he doesn’t wait any longer and starts to work on unbuckling each of the thick leather straps trapping you against the cold metal.

Once you’re free, he steps back to give you space. Yet you remain there, silent and watching. He frowns a little, confused, but doesn’t question you; instead, he makes a motion for you to stay — hoping you’ll understand — then leaves the lab with his gun clutched securely in his hold. Both because he can’t be certain he truly did kill every fucked-up scientist and assistant in this lab, and because he can’t be certain he can trust you to not claim the weapon for your own and shoot him the second he re-enters the room.

Though, when he returns with a bag bulging with items he’s procured from various lockers in the changing rooms, he finds you laid exactly where he left you, eyes glued to the door. For a split second, he even thinks he sees that human eye light up a little upon spotting him, but he refuses to delude himself like that.

“I found some clothes for us both,” he declares, putting down the bag — though he keeps his gun — to cross the room and fill a tub with warm water from the sink. Once back at your side, he puts the tub down and pulls some cloths from the bag to drop into the water. “Can you sit up? Dress yourself?” You only stare, and he sighs. “Okay, just… wait there I guess, let me clean up first.”

After so many years of being stripped down, prodded, and poked, cut open and closed back up, Wonwoo has no issue or concerns about removing all of his clothing — keeping his weapons close to him and far from your reach, of course — and washing the blood from his exposed, blood smeared skin right before your unflinching gaze. He knows you’re watching him; he can feel your gaze on him, curious and analytical. He wonders what the computer they fitted you with tells you about him; about the metal obvious without clothes in the way, the degrading synthetic skin, the scarred human skin. He wonders, but he doesn’t ask.

Once he’s cleaned and dried, he quickly dresses in the clothes he found that just about fit him — even if the jeans are a little tight on his thighs where both are full of mechanic enhancements under human skin; to blend in if exposed while still having the upper hand in a fight or chase — and fits all his holsters and holders back onto his body, fitting him better than any clothing ever has. He thinks it sad that he can’t remember if there’s real truth to that, or if that only applies to this version of him. Perhaps it’s better he doesn’t know, doesn’t remember who he was before this life. Still, he wants to know. There’s a big part of him missing, and he feels that ache every single day.

“Your turn,” he says upon turning to face you now that he’s ready down to his boots — still his own, he won’t give these reliable boots up until he physically can’t wear them anymore, no matter how blood stained they are — and the jacket he found, which he, admittedly, has taken quite the liking to.

Honestly, Wonwoo hadn’t really expected you to respond, not based on his experience with you so far, but he had still hoped you would. Of course, you don’t, you just stare, and he gets to work wiping the dried blood from your skin — your own; hours, maybe even days, old — and manoeuvring your helpless body into clothing.

By the time he’s done, he thinks you look a little more alert, a little less like you’re an aimless consciousness stuck in a body, but a living being. Well, as living as a cyborg can be, he supposes.

“First things first, let’s make sure your systems are online,” he decides, moving around the table you lay on to approach the computer on your left, enough space between the two tables for someone to easily walk along. He feels your eyes follow him, and he glances over to see that you’ve rolled your head to allow the observation. That’s good, at least he knows that you can move one part of your body.

After spending years being marched in and out of labs just like this one; for checkups, to be enhanced further, to be shut down — though that one they obviously didn’t succeed in —; Wonwoo knows his way around a computer, especially as the skill is written into his code so that he can do his own maintenance when out in the field. It was probably a big regret of theirs to give him the knowledge to look into his own code and slowly understand what he is, what they’ve done to him, why he can’t remember anything from before waking up naked and strapped by leather to a metal table much like you are right now.

That thought makes him realise that you probably have just been awoken, that your mind is a blank slate, and you truly don’t know anything. No wonder you haven’t tried to speak; you don’t know how yet. At least, you don’t remember how. He doesn’t know if they implanted any knowledge chips within you, but he seriously fucking hopes so. He has no idea how he’s going to essentially raise a baby the size of a grown woman, because that’s all you really are right now; a newborn.

Thankfully, he finds the computer ready to go, paused in the process of unlocking the information in those chips — and he’s relieved to see that you have almost all of the same ones as he does, so he knows you should figure out talking, walking, and other basic necessities pretty quickly — but Wonwoo’s appearance in the lab had really ruined things, and whoever was in charge of waking you didn’t manage to get the job done. He’s really glad of that, because judging by the fancy, state of the art combat chips he can see in your file, you’d take him in a fight easily.

Although he doesn’t really want to be responsible for keeping you safe when he has to watch his own back already, Wonwoo doesn’t unlock the combat chip, still not sure he can trust you to be on his side. For now, he unlocks the necessities, and hovers over the one titled “data” and wonders what that could mean. He can’t even open the folder on the computer; it’s the only one that requires a passcode and Wonwoo certainly doesn’t have that. As much as he would love to know what kind of data they planned to fill your head with, he has no choice but to ignore it.

Sudden movement in his peripheral makes Wonwoo turn, ready to react, but he relaxes upon realising that it’s you, twitching intermittently as information loads in your head and you try to escape the onslaught.

In all they did to him in the labs, in all they cut him open and dug around inside while he was conscious and able to feel everything, Wonwoo knows the information upload is far worse. It was the only time he ever argued, ever tried to fight, and inevitably earned enough sedation to make him unable to fight, though it only lasted long enough to get him strapped down and connected to the computer. Wonwoo doesn’t really fear anything, not at this point, but having a new data chip unlocked is as close as he gets.

“I know it hurts in a way you couldn’t describe even if you had the words, but it’ll be over soon. I’m sorry for making you go through this pain, but you need the knowledge to survive,” he says, reaching out to put a hand to your shoulder, sympathetic and sharing your pain in his memories, though he knows those can never compare to the real thing.

They must’ve improved the system since Wonwoo was last connected to one, because far quicker than he ever remembers his uploads happening, it’s over, and your panting body slumps against metal, welcoming the cool of it against your heated skin.

He returns to the computer to see what else needs to be done to have you functional, and he finds a file there hidden in your system, one he’s never seen in his own. ID. Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat as he stares at those two letters, two letters that mean nothing really, while meaning everything at the same time. He clicks into the file and his heart hurts. Right there before his very eyes is a redacted file, proof that you were something before all this, even if all he can read is a codename.

“Valentine,” he murmurs, then turns his head to look at you. He’s not surprised to find your eyes already on him, tired, yet alert, full of new knowledge. Full of pain. “Does that mean anything to you? That name?”

It takes a moment, but you slowly shake your head, still trying to get used to the sudden data in your head, manuals of how to work your body, of how to speak, but it will still take a little time for you to truly understand the information in your mind and put it to use. He understands that.

“It’s you, apparently, your codename. You can see that in your mind, yes? The ID file, that’s this.” He turns the monitor so that you can see it. Your eyes glance over it, but you don’t linger, don’t seem to care. He doesn’t blame you. A name means nothing to an empty person. “My name’s Wonwoo,” he says, moving a little closer to greet you properly, with respect he hasn’t felt for another in a long time. But you’re not like anyone else he’s met in a long time. You’re like him. Sort of.

“W…” you try to repeat, and he nods encouragingly while moving closer, slowly sounding out his name and exaggerating his mouth movements for you to carefully study. Your second attempt is far better, though still not quite right. “Wanoo,” you say; he can’t help but chuckle. You frown a little, and he can’t tell if you look more confused or offended at his laughter, yet then beam at him as if you’re proud of making him laugh, even a little. “Wanoo.”

“Wonwoo.”

“Wanoo,” you insist, and he snorts, figuring you’re being stubborn just to amuse him. It’s working. “Val. Wanoo.”

“Val and Wonwoo,” he agrees, giving you a little smile. “And Val and Wonwoo should get out of here sooner rather than later, before the cavalry arrive.”

“Cav’ry,” you repeat, human eye glossing over a little as you search your system for the word.

He leaves you to your mental exploration and makes short work of safely disconnecting you from the computer before closing up the access panel hidden amongst your hair behind your left ear. You let him, seem to trust him, and that makes something long missing warm in his chest, fill out a little.

“C’mon, I’m going to need your help to get us both out of here,” he prompts once he’s back at your side and helping you to sit up. You make a surprised sound at the change of position, but you obligingly do your best to lift your left arm to put it around his shoulders and turn to get off the bed with his right arm secure around your waist.

The first few steps almost fail entirely, you can’t quite get your legs to work, but Wonwoo is surprisingly patient about it, more patient than he thought he could be with a stranger, and gently talks you through it, step by literal step.

It’s slow work, but it gets easier, then faster, and by the time the two of you step out into the hut within the forest that hides the entrance to the lab, he barely has to support you.

He can tell that you’re tired from using muscles you potentially haven’t used in months — he didn’t get a good enough look at your file to know if you were previously asleep on ice until needed, or if you were picked off a battlefield on the brink of death and turned into something entirely knew — but you don’t complain and determinedly keep on, so Wonwoo doesn’t give you chance to change your mind about it. The two of you need to get as far away from here as possible, as fast as possible.

It’s not until two days, five different vehicles, and three episodes of you almost wandering off, attention caught by something new, that Wonwoo lets the two of you rest.

No sooner has he kicked out the stand of his borrowed — stolen — motorbike on the dirt of a field out of the way, does he drop to the mostly dead grass, arms and legs spread wide to let his body rest, taking big sighs of air and letting them dance away on the cool breeze.

You stare down at him for only a moment before copying and flopping down on the grass at his side, close enough to lay your head on his outstretched bicep, uncaring that it’s metal under his synthetic skin and can’t be comfortable. Then again, the back of your head feels far too sturdy to be bone, so he assumes at least part of your skull has been replaced with metal, so you likely can’t even feel his stiff arm under you anyway.

“Stay here now, Wanoo?” you ask after a few moments of quiet calm. He rolls his head against the grass so that he can look at you, watch you peer up at him with nothing but trust in that human eye. He wonders how long it will take for that shine to dimmish, for him to fuck up and make you lose all faith in him.

He hopes it won’t happen; he hopes you’ll always want to be by his side, because, admittedly, he’s already grown rather fond of you and your innocence; your smile; your everything, really. But he won’t delude himself into believing he’s destined for such things, that he deserves more than a lonely life of an empty pit in his chest, always aching for love to fill it. He won’t delude himself, but he hopes.

“Just for a bit,” he confirms, reaching up with his free arm so that he can gently brush the strands of wind-blown hair away from your face. You let him and just smile. “We’ll need to flee further, find somewhere safe to plan our next step.”

“Next step?” you repeat, curious.

“Mm. I went to that lab to find out who I am, what memories they stole about my past. It was my last chance and I fucked it up.”

“Val and Wanoo find memories,” you declare, nodding. “Find you.”

“You’ll help me?” he asks, a little surprised, and very touched. You nod firmly. “It will be dangerous.”

“Val protect Wanoo, Wanoo protect Val.”

“I…Yes, I suppose we will,” he agrees, lips lifting into a smile. “And maybe then we can find out why your speech isn’t developed as it should be. Until then, you will keep trying to copy my speech patterns, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirm without hesitation. Not that he’s surprised about that, you agree with everything Wonwoo says, you do whatever he tells you to without complaint. “Copy Wanoo.”

“Mm, copy Wanoo.” He settles back down, directing his smile to the afternoon sky above you both. It only grows when you shuffle closer as if there’s nowhere else you’d ever rather be than tucked up by his side.

Somehow, even though the two of you never stop looking, never stop moving and taking the next step towards finding who he once was, Wonwoo forgets that.

Not entirely, of course, there’s always a part of him that is aware of the goal, of the part of him that’s been missing for years now. But ever since the day he kicked down that lab door and found you, that hole has taken up less and less of his thoughts. Now, you fill them. And when he thinks about that hole, he realises that it’s filling with you.

Sometimes, when the day has been calm, and the two of you have done nothing but simply exist together, he considers it. Considers telling you the truth about it. Considers telling himself the truth about no longer really caring about who he once was. But he doesn’t, he can’t gain the courage for it.

Wonwoo may be a creature made for war, made to march into the middle of battle unflinchingly and come out on top, but he’s not brave enough to tell you that he’s fallen for you and never wants to go back to the man he was before you.

Then, the day passes and you bounce over to him with those big, proud eyes to tell him your plan for the next step that the two of you can take to find his past, to tell him the information you’ve somehow found when he’s failed so many times, and he can only go along with it, hiding his patched over heart and hoping that one day, he can be brave enough.

For now, he continues to stay close to your side, enjoy the calm days, protect you through the rough ones — even if he’s taught you everything he knows about fighting —, and pretend that he doesn’t want to take you away somewhere and forget all about this life. Pretend that he doesn’t want to make a new life with you.

“Wanoo,” you chirp, using that same name he’s found so ridiculously endearing from the start, and is glad that you never stopped using even once your speech developed as it should’ve. You poke him in the forehead to make him tilt his head back to focus on you instead of staring off across the horizon, once again stuck in his dreams of a braver Wonwoo.

“Mm?” he replies, blinking up at you as he clears the clouds from his mind.

“It’s time to go, we’ve got to stakeout the Mechanic,” you remind, reaching down to grab his hand from his lap and tug him up from his perch on the bonnet of the car the two of you have been using for months now.

“Oh, right.” He nods and lets you lead him around to the driver’s side door. He always lets you lead him around; would let you take him anywhere if you hold his hand. He’s very aware of how much of a contrast that is compared to the man you met; dripping blood and threatening to kill you if you try to hurt him. Even he can’t believe how soft he’s become because of you, only for you.

“Maybe we should see if he can look into your system and see why you keep going spacy like that,” you suggest while opening the door, then hold it steady while motioning within using the hand you’ve just removed from his.

He takes a moment to gently brush your hair out of your face before getting into the driver’s seat. He’ll always take the chance to touch you, only encouraged by the fact you’ve never told him to stop, never shied away and only turned into his hold like a flower to the sun.

“My system’s fine,” he assures moments later once you’ve skipped around to get into the passenger seat while he starts the car up.

“Sure?”

“Positive. It’s this skin that needs tending to,” he mutters, eyeing the patch of synthetic skin over his left wrist where it’s worn away to the extreme that his mechanics are showing through.

“Hopefully this Mechanic has some.”

“Mm, hopefully. Or, at least, he can transplant some from elsewhere that I can easier hide from the public gaze and protect from moisture.”

“No nude beaches then, huh?” you joke, and he laughs, eyes on the winding road ahead. “Shame, you’ve got the body to show off; you’d have all the women over you.”

“I don’t want them.”

“No? We’ve been together for almost a year now and you’ve never looked at anyone. Are you not interested in that? Romance, sex?”

Wonwoo wants to say that he’s interested in you, only you, but he can’t. He doesn’t say anything, and you never push him, always follow his lead; you fall quiet too and turn your head to watch the world pass by instead of watching him.

“You know, I wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t come home for a night now and then, not if I know you’re safe and not in danger,” you state out of the blue hours later, after hours of calm silence; the kind of silence the two of you can often spend hours in, even days sometimes.

He rolls his head against the headrest of his seat to look at you, curled up comfortably in the passenger seat with your eyes glued to the grimy old store front down the street where it’s rumoured The Mechanic works out of. Though he’s a hard man to get any information on, and Wonwoo still doesn’t know how you got his location. Or suspected location, as the matter may be. There’s been no sign of life so far.

You must feel Wonwoo’s gaze, but you don’t look at him, not this time, even if you usually always turn to him. Always know when he is looking at you and gaze unwaveringly right back. You usually always meet him head on without hesitation, and it’s only now that you’re not that he realises it. That he understands, and his heart fills to the point of warming his whole body.

“You can take a break from your past to have fun with a stranger in the present,” you state in a tone that sounds like you’re reminding him of that, that he’s allowed to exist outside of his search for who he once was.

“Then where would it leave my future?” he questions. He watches your eyebrows furrow, and your features screw up as you try to decipher what he means and how to answer it. Even though one of you should constantly keep attention on the storefront for any sign of the Mechanic, he reaches out to tenderly cup your face and turn you to look at him. “I stopped caring about who I was some time ago, Val.”

“What?” You frown at him confusedly. “Why are we still searching if you don’t care?”

“Because I’m a coward.” You only grow more visibly bewildered. “Ever since we met, I’ve cared less and less about my past because you…you’re my future,” he confesses and lets out a breath, feels all the much lighter for it. “I have no interest in finding a stranger for the present because I only want you. Even if you don’t want me, I won’t go with anyone else. You’re everything to me; the only past I care about, the only present I want, and the only future I can imagine. I’ve just been too scared to tell you that.”

You take a moment to stare up at him, eyes big and trusting, and even with the mechanical blue glow in one, so fucking beautiful. “What changed?” you ask, voice quiet and holding an unsteady quality he’s never heard you use, emotional in a way he’s never heard on you before.

“You didn’t look at me.”

You huff a laugh. “What? I always look at you.”

“Exactly. You always look at me without hesitation, without fear, and you have since the very first moment. Yet then when you said I can stay out with another woman, you didn’t look at me.”

“Oh.”

“Mm.” He smiles and lifts his free hand to your face to hold you so reverently in both hands, human eye full of soft adoration. Even though he knows it’s impossible, he likes to imagine his mechanical one looks at you with love too, that you can see it in the soft blue glow just like you can in the brown of the other. He knows you can see it, it’s obvious the moment you notice because you melt in his hold and tilt towards him like you always have. Like he had missed in those short moments you hadn’t. “Will you confirm it for me, sweetheart? Will you tell me if I’m your future too?”

You let out a soft laugh, like it’s crazy he even has to ask, like it’s just a simple fact of the world. “Wanoo, you’re my everything.”

His smile brightens bigger than he can remember smiling, though it doesn’t last long. It’s a little hard to smile with his whole heart when his lips are busy on yours, after all.

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Adjusting to life with Jiyeon was a lot more difficult than you ever could have anticipated. Sure, you knew that your life would change after having a baby, and you loved your daughter more than words could ever say, but you never could have anticipated just how exhausted you would be all the time while you learned how to take care of a newborn as you went.

The additional problem of learning how to have a healthy co-parenting relationship with Dongyoung didn’t help matters, either. Still, you knew that it was the right thing to do. Dongyoug would never be the man that you wanted him to be, and expecting him to change was like expecting hell to freeze over.

Not having Dongyoung in your life anymore didn’t mean that you were alone, though. Nayeon, Jisoo, and Jaehyun were right by your side, and having your friends and lover in your corner was a lifeline as you adjusted to life as a mother. Not only did they step in and take care of Jiyeon when you needed to rest, but they also made sure that you didn’t lose the parts of you that had taken a backseat to your new role as you struggled to balance it all.

But before you knew it, your maternity leave was almost over. So, you made arrangements with your parents, Jisoo, and Nayeon to take care of Jiyeon while you worked. You went over your lesson plans over and over to make sure that you were in the right place when you went back to teaching. You even sat Jaehyun down to figure out how much longer he would stay with you to help with Jiyeon after you went back to work. You’d thought of every possibility, and once everything was in place, you felt like you were ready to go back to teaching.

The day before you were supposed to go back to work, you were putting some finishing touches on a presentation for your students, since Jaehyun had offered to feed Jiyeon before her nap. After she was fed and burped, you heard Jaehyun start singing a lullaby, and your heart swelled. Sure, Jaehyun wasn’t Jiyeon’s biological father, but as far as you were concerned, the love that he’d shown her from the moment that she arrived more than qualified him to be her dad.

Once Jiyeon was sleeping soundly in her crib, Jaehyun found you in the living room and kissed your forehead, asking, “How long have you been working on this, baby?”

“No idea, but I’m almost done!”

“Define ‘almost,’” Jaehyun said with a laugh.

“I just need to add a few more pictures and fix some typos.”

“Ok, as soon as you’re done, you’re taking a break.”

“Fine,” you said with a dramatic roll of your eyes as you went back to work.

Just like you agreed, you finished fixing all of the little details, and once your presentation was done, you basically collapsed into Jaehyun’s arms. Between preparing to go back to work and caring for Jiyeon, you’d been exhausted, so you were relieved when you got the opportunity to finally rest.

However, your cozy moment with the man that you loved was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a dramatic sigh, you stood to answer it, expecting your parents or one of the traveling salesmen that refused to leave you alone on the other side.

Instead, you opened the door and saw Dongyoung for the first time since Jiyeon was born.

“What do you want?” you asked, too tired to even try to pretend you were happy to see him.

 “Can we talk? I’d really like to make some sort of plan to see Jiyeon more often.”

“You had months to have this conversation, Dongyoung. Why now?”

“I don’t know. I just realized that I haven’t seen her since the birth, and I wanna make it right,” he answered, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact as he spoke.

Not wanting to deny Dongyoung time with his daughter, you stepped aside so he could come in and said, “Ok. How much time do you want?”

“As much time as you’re willing to give me,” he answered as he stepped inside and looked around your apartment. He stopped exactly where he was when he turned and saw Jaehyun sitting on your couch and asked, “What is he doing here?”

“He’s been staying here to help me take care of Jiyeon,” you answered, leaving no further room for questions. Then, the two of you went over your work schedules and discussed when each of you would be available to care for Jiyeon, moving plans around until you had a custody arrangement that both of you were happy with.

“Can I see her now?” Dongyoung asked.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, ok.”

With that, you tried to gently encourage Dongyoung to move toward the door, but before he actually left, he turned around and asked, “By the way, are you busy this weekend?” He tried to make it sound casual, but you could tell exactly what he wanted from the hopeful and slightly desperate look in his eyes.

“Jaehyun and I have plans, actually,” you answered.

Dongyoung’s face fell as he muttered something about how he shouldn’t have come. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could say a word, Jaehyun asked, “Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Dongyoung answered.

“No, say it,” Jaehyun said, standing from the couch and stepping closer to Dongyoung. “What was that about how you shouldn’t have come?”

“I was just disappointed that you two have plans because I was hoping that we could reconnect,” Dongyoung mumbled, clearly embarrassed that he’d been called out.

“Well she isn't interested,” Jaehyun snapped, stepping between you and Dongyoung.

The two of them went back and forth for what felt like an eternity, but was probably just a few minutes. At some point, however, Dongyoung stepped around Jaehyun, turned to you, and begged, “Come on. Say something, please.”

“You have a lot of audacity showing up here and lying about wanting to see Jiyeon.”

“I wasn’t lying. I just-”

“Used our child to try to talk to me about getting back together? I know.”

With a defeated sigh, Dongyoung said, “I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh of your own before you said, “Dongyoung, I need you to do two things for me. Ok?”

“What are they?” he asked, perking up slightly like he thought that he had a chance.

“First, I need you to only contact me if it is directly related to Jiyeon. Nothing else.” There was a moment of silence as he processed your words, and you continued, “Second, I need you to remember that Jiyeon is the only reason we’re even speaking right now. Do you understand?” you asked matter-of-factly.

Dongyoung seemed to deflate at your words, but he still said, “Ok,” and left your apartment.

After Dongyoung left, you practically collapsed into Jaehyun’s arms, exhausted by both the argument and the chaotic day you’d had. Your lover held you close while you tried to relax, whispering soft reassurances that everything would be ok and desperately hoping that you believed him.

A few hours after Dongyoung left, Jiyeon woke up crying. Without a second thought, you went to your bedroom, carefully lifting her out of her crib as you whispered, “It's ok. I'm right here.”

You checked her diaper, and just like you were expecting, it was full. So, you immediately got everything out and changed her, humming softly while you worked. Once she was clean again, Jiyeon calmed down, and you savored the quiet moment with your little girl.

Sure, you greatly appreciated the people around you that were available to help you take care of your daughter, but your favorite moments of the day were always when it was just the two of you. No work-related interruptions, no distractions, just bonding time that kept you grounded while the world seemed to spin out of control around you.

After your conversation, Dongyoung kept his word. He only contacted you when it was related to Jiyeon, and he didn’t bring up the idea of rekindling your relationship again. Considering your history, it was the last thing you were expecting, but you were immensely grateful for it.

A small part of you was disappointed by how your relationship with Dongyoung had changed over the years. But, as you grew apart from Dongyoung, you grew closer to Jaehyun, and that made you miss what you used to have a lot less. A small part of you felt guilty for immediately making it official with your ex’s best friend, but at the same time, you were relieved that you had someone to help you handle the things that life threw at you. Especially considering the fact that Jaehyun made you feel safer and more loved than Dongyoung ever had.

The day that you asked Jaehyun to move in with you permanently was one of the best days of your life. Nayeon and Jisoo had agreed to take care of Jiyeon so the two of you could have the conversation privately, so you invited Jaehyun to a nearby park.

When you got to the park, the two of you sat down on a nearby bench, and you decided to just bite the bullet and asked, “How do you feel about moving in permanently instead of going home next month, like we agreed when my maternity leave ended?”

Jaehyun was quiet for a minute before he said, “I was hoping that you would ask. Are Nayeon and Jisoo ok with it?”

“Yeah, they are. I talked to them about it before I asked you.”

“Then yeah, I think that sounds wonderful.”

With that, Jaehyun pulled you close, and you couldn’t help but think that there was nowhere else you wanted to be in that moment.

The weekend after Jaehyun's belongings were all moved into your apartment, Dongyoung came over to pick Jiyeon up. Just like always, he knocked on the door, and you answered, holding your daughter in your arms. When Dongyoung saw Jiyeon, he lit up, asking, “How is my little angel doing?”

Jiyeon reached for her father immediately, and with a soft laugh, you gently placed her in Dongyoung’s arms and said, “I think she missed you.”

“I missed her too,” he said as you moved out of the way to let him in.

Dongyoung carefully stepped into the apartment that used to be his, sitting on the couch with Jiyeon falling asleep in his arms as you updated him about the last week. You went over everything from an updated burping routine to the lullabies that seemed to be most effective at putting her to sleep. He listened intently to all of it, adding his own thoughts and observations from his weekends taking care of Jiyeon.

While the two of you talked, you noticed Dongyoung looking around the apartment and asked, “Is everything ok?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “I just noticed that the layout looks a little different. Did you move stuff around?”

“Yeah, we moved some things to make room for the rest of Jaehyun’s stuff. He’s moving in long-term.”

Dongyoung didn't speak for a minute, clearly surprised, but when he did speak, he just mumbled, “I'm happy for you two.”

“Thank you,” you said, not really sure how to continue the conversation. After a brief awkward silence though, you decided to ask, “How are you doing?” Sure, it wasn’t exactly related to Jiyeon, but you figured that a quick check-in couldn’t hurt.

Dongyoung looked surprised by your question, but he still answered, “I think I'm ok.” He hesitated before he continued, “Kind of lonely, if I'm being honest? Most of my friends don't live nearby anymore, so it's basically just me in the new apartment unless it's my time with one or both of the kids.”

“I didn't know that,” you mumbled.

Dongyoung immediately sat up straighter and said, “It's ok. I'm fine, really. I've been looking for churches in the area, so that'll help. I talked to my neighbor, and she said that she'd watch the kids during service if I find one.” He spoke quickly, like he was desperate to convince both you and himself that everything was ok.

Not wanting to push him, but also not wanting him to be alone, you just said, “If you need to talk, just send me a text.”

“I thought you didn't want me to talk to you unless it was related to Jiyeon.”

You thought for a minute and sighed before you said, “Well, you show up for her, and that means a lot to me. I meant what I said about not getting back together, but I don't mind talking sometimes. Besides, if you're not at your best, it's gonna be harder to give Jiyeon what she needs.”

Dongyoung looked genuinely relieved as he said, “Thanks. That means a lot.” He was quiet for a minute before he continued, “Could you help me get her stuff to the car?”

“Yeah, of course.”

With that, Dongyoung carefully placed your sleeping daughter in her car seat, and the two of you worked together to load the car. Then, when you were done, he smiled at you before he got in and drove home with Jiyeon.

As you walked back in, you thought about the shifts in your relationship with Dongyoung over the years, wondering if your conversation today was a sign of another shift. After all, the two of you clearly weren’t meant to be lovers, but maybe the two of you could respectfully co-parent and potentially be friends again down the line.

It was a random Sunday when Jaehyun asked you if you would be willing to meet his parents. Jiyeon was at Dongyoung’s house for the weekend, and Nayeon and Jisoo were out of the house, so you and Jaehyun were just enjoying the time to yourselves. You took your time grading papers while Jaehyun organized the bookshelf that sat in your bedroom, and at some point, he just asked, “What do you think about meeting my parents?”

“I’m open to it. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I talk about you a lot,” he answered with a shy chuckle. “They really wanna get to know you.”

“Do they know how we met?”

“They know some of the details, but at the end of the day, do they need to know the whole story? They know that I love you, and that’s what matters as far as I’m concerned,” he said, moving away from the bookshelf to sit next to you at the table.

With a sigh, you answered, “I guess you’re right. I’m just worried about being judged, you know?”

“I understand that completely. But I promise you, my parents aren’t the judgemental type. They have no room to be, trust me.”

You thought about it for a moment, then you said, “Ok. As long as you're sure that it'll be ok.”

“I am. I'll call my mom later to set everything up.” There was a beat of silence before he said, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

With that, the two of you went back to your respective tasks, finishing them in silence. As you graded the rest of the assignments in your pile, you enjoyed the comfort that you found in Jaehyun’s steady presence in your life.

When you actually showed up to Mr. and Mrs. Jeong’s house a few weeks later, overnight bags in your arms, you were far less nervous than you expected to be. You couldn’t really explain it, but a sense of peace had settled over you, and you were certain that no matter what happened, everything would be ok. Your best guess as to why you weren’t nervous was the feeling of safety that came from going into a new experience with Jaehyun by your side.

When Jaehyun knocked on the door, his mom opened it and said, “Hi! Come on in. Jaehyun has told us so much about you.”

After Mrs. Jeong stepped out of the doorway, you slowly stepped into her home, holding Jaehyun’s hand. Something about his hand in yours just kept you grounded in unfamiliar situations.

From the moment you sat next to Jaehyun on the couch, Mrs. Jeong was eager to get to know you. “So,” she began, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I've been a teacher for the past six years, and I have a four-month-old daughter.”

“Jaehyun talks about Jiyeon all the time. We would have loved to meet her today,” Mrs. Jeong responded.

“She's with her father this weekend, but I'd be happy to arrange a visit during my time with her so that you can meet her.”

Mrs. Jeong beamed, and her husband finally entered the room. With a warm smile on his face, he approached you, shook your hand, and introduced himself. Then, he sat down next to Mrs. Jeong and asked, “How did you and Jaehyun meet?”

You thought about how much you were comfortable telling them for a minute before you looked down and said, “I was in a relationship with Dongyoung when we met. He visited to catch up with Dongyoung, and we hit it off. Then wfter Dongyoung and I split, we started seeing each other.” You looked up to see how they would react, and you saw a hint of understanding in Mrs. Jeong’s eyes. So, you smiled and continued, “I really didn't expect our relationship to move so quickly. Originally, Jaehyun was planning to stay with me temporarily to help me take care of Jiyeon. But as time passed, I fell for him harder than I ever could have expected, and now I can't picture my life without him.”

You looked over at Jaehyun, and with a soft smile, your lover said, “I knew you were the one as soon as I saw that smile for the first time.”

“I'm so happy Jaehyun found someone like you,” Mrs. Jeong said.

With that, the four of you continued to talk, and your anxiety about Mr. and Mrs. Jeong judging you for your past mistakes practically melted away. They were nothing but warm and kind to you, and you were optimistic about the future of your relationship with Jaehyun and his family.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to your upbringing, and you spoke about your time at church. “My parents are religious, but I never really connected with any higher power the way they did,” you explained. “I don't know if I was doing it wrong or if there just isn't anything to connect to, but as an adult I made peace with the fact that it just isn't for me.” Almost as an afterthought, you mumbled, “I sort of wish it was, though.”

You’d never admitted that you wanted to believe in God before. Not to Dongyoung, not to Jaehyun, not to anyone. So why were you telling Jaehyun’s parents now? Especially considering this was the first time you’d ever met them? You had absolutely no idea. Still, it was kind of nice to finally say it out loud.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeong looked at each other with an expression you couldn’t quite identify before Mr. Jeong turned back to you and said, “Would you like to come to church with us tomorrow?”

You thought about saying no. You really did. But a feeling that you couldn’t name settled into your gut as you processed the question, and you found yourself saying, “Yes, I would.”

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Jeong said. “Service starts at 9:30, and we usually leave at 9:00 to get there on time to find our seats.”

“I’ll make sure I’m ready,” you responded, still questioning why you said yes.

“Now, I’m sure Jaehyun told you this,” Mrs. Jeong continued, “but we set you two up in his old bedroom for the weekend. Do you need me to show you where it is?”

“I’ll show her,” Jaehyun answered. Then, he turned to you and asked, “Are you ready?” You nodded, and he silently motioned for you to follow him to where you’d be sleeping for the night. Then, once your belongings were put in their temporary places, you took some time to yourself to think, mainly wondering what the feeling in your gut was that told you to go to church with your boyfriend’s parents.

The next day, you walked into church with Jaehyun's family, still asking yourself why you agreed to go. Of course, you knew the answer already. You agreed because you loved Jaehyun, and you wanted to get to know his family. Plus, every time you thought about it, you felt something pulling you in. For a brief moment, you wondered if that something was a higher power, but you shook the thought away. After all, you’d spent literal decades trying for a connection that clearly wasn’t gonna happen. So why now?

As you sat in the pew next to Jaehyun, you tried desperately to calm your racing thoughts. Thoughts of listening to another sermon about how basically everyone who didn’t do whatever they could to be perfect were destined for hellfire were rampant, and you were desperately hoping that the service would be different from the ones you were used to. Or at least, if it was all the same, you hoped that service would be short.

While you tried to stay present in the moment instead of drifting back to your childhood and getting stuck in memories, you heard the pastor start to speak. “Hello, everyone,” he said. “Thank you for joining us today.”

You heard a few people greet the reverend back before he said the opening prayer, and a sense of calm washed over you that you weren’t expecting. As you listened to the first few hymns, you started to wonder if maybe you could find the connection with the divine that you’d always wanted.

When it was time for the sermon, you felt nervous for the first time since you walked in the door. What was the pastor going to say? Would he turn out just like the pastor from your childhood church and spew hate from the pulpit? Or would he approach ministry more like Dongyoung did and emphasize love and truth above all else?

“Hello again, everyone,” the pastor began. “Before I begin today's sermon, I want to remind you all of something. I know I tell you this every week, but it always bears repeating. God love you, no matter what you've done, and you're on this earth because you are loved by Him.”

His words practically smacked you in the face, and before you could even try to stop it, you started to cry. The idea that he started every sermon that way made you far more emotional than you were prepared to handle, and you silently hoped the rest of the sermon wouldn't be as emotional.

However, things didn't usually go the way you hoped they would. The rest of the sermon was about helping those that need more support, both in life and their faith journeys. The entire time, you struggled to hold it together, but not because you were upset. Instead, it was because you felt more seen than you thought was possible, especially in a religous setting.

The reverend concluded his sermon by saying, “Find a way to show love to someone who needs it this week, and remember that it's ok if you need to show yourself a little bit of extra love.”

After the final hymn and closing prayer, Mrs. Jeong turned to you and said, “Follow me.” You did, and she brought you over to speak to her pastor. After she found him, she introduced him and explained that you were attending with her family for the first time.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he said as he took your hand to shake. “I'm Reverend Suh.”

“Your sermon today was lovely,” you said, trying desperately not to start crying again.

“Thank you. It was an important one, I think. A lot of people forget to show themselves the kind of love that God has for all of us.”

With a sigh, you responded, “Yeah, I definitely think I fall into that category.”

Reverend Suh processed what you said, and after a moment of thought, he asked, “Would you like to pray with me?”

You hesitantly said yes, and Reverend Suh and Mrs. Jeong took your hands. After everyone bowed their heads, Reverend Suh prayed that you would find the peace you were looking for, and just like when service began, you felt uncharacteristically calm.

After the prayer, you thanked Reverend Suh and left with Mrs. Jeong to find her husband and Jaehyun. While you walked around the church, you wondered if maybe faith was for you, after all.

When you went back home after meeting Jaehyun’s parents, you had way more questions than answers. What did the way you felt during service mean? Was it the connection that you’d been seeking for most of your life? You had no idea. So, you decided to do the one thing that you never thought you would do. You prayed.

You asked whatever higher power was up there to tell you what they wanted from you, and as a show of good faith, asked for guidance to be the best mother that you could be to Jiyeon. Once you were done, you felt uncharacteristically calm, and once again, you wondered if the church you attended as a kid just wasn’t leading you down the path that you were meant to be on.

Throughout the next week at work, you wondered constantly about what it all meant. So, one day, during your lunch break, you downloaded a Bible app on your phone and started reading. Sure, you’d always preferred reading physical books to using apps, but you really didn’t want to spend money on something that you didn’t know yet if you wanted to explore further. Besides, using an app allowed you to compare translations in a way that made the text way easier to understand than when you’d had to study it as a kid. But before you knew it, your break was over, and you had to get back to work.

When you got home, the first thing you did was check on Jiyeon. Your little girl was perfectly content in Nayeon’s arms, looking like she was about to fall asleep any minute. So, you left the room, softly thanking Nayeon as you walked away, and went to the living room.

Once you were back to the living room, you did the same thing you’d done during your lunch break. You opened the Bible app you’d downloaded, selected a random book, and started to read. Almost right away, verses started to stand out in ways that they hadn’t before. You sort felt like you were losing it, if you were being completely honest with yourself. But at the same time, you felt more calm and focused than you ever had in previous attempts at studying the Bible.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, why now? Why after you’d already made mistakes that you were certain put you in the “too far gone to save” category? After you’d basically given up on the idea that any higher power or divine being would bother to listen to you? You had no idea, but you did know that the certainty that you were doing the right thing that settled into your gut as you grabbed a notebook and pen to write down the verses that stood out to you as you read was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before.

As you stared at the list of proverbs that you’d written down, you started to cry. You cried for the years that you’d spent wondering why you weren’t good enough for God to love you. You cried for the pain that came with walking away from a faith that kept your parents going but only made you want to give up when you were a kid. You cried for the parts of you that were still desperate for a sense of purpose, a reason that you belonged in the world around you. But most of all, you cried tears of joy because of the way that everything seemed to fall into place for you to find your way back.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice Nayeon enter the living room and ask you what was wrong. You didn’t even realize she was there until she tapped your shoulder, causing you to jump. When you looked over to see your roommate and friend standing next to you, you quickly wiped your tears away with your sleeve and asked, “What’s up?”

“I asked you what’s wrong. I heard you crying.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you answered, still fighting back tears.

“Bullshit.” As she looked at your frantic notes, she looked slightly uncomfortable and asked, “What’s all this?”

“Long story.”

“I have an hour before I need to be ready for a date with Jisoo. Try me.”

That was when you told her everything, from the way you felt going to church with Jaehyun’s parents to the fact that you were taking actual notes reading the Bible for the first time in your life. As you spoke, you started to cry again, and Nayeon pulled you into a hug.

“Listen, I’m gonna be honest with you,” she said. “I know that church isn’t for me. I tried, but it just isn’t. But everything you’re telling me makes me think it might be for you. Just, don’t go down any pipelines or anything. That won’t end well for anyone, including you.”

“I won’t,” you said, smiling for the first time in what felt like days. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” Nayeon said, looking like she was about to start crying too. After a brief silence, she asked, “Are you ok?”

With a sigh, you answered, “Yeah, I think I am. Thanks for listening.”

“It’s no problem. I’m gonna go get ready now, but if you need anything else, just let me know.”

“I will.”

After Nayeon the room to get ready for her date with Jisoo, you decided to find Jaehyun. Just when you started to get frustrated with looking for him, he walked in the door, and you said, “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, my love. Are you ok? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Yeah, I’m dealing with some stuff.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked as he set his things down.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you practically collapsed next to him on the couch, hugging him so tight you were almost worried that you were going to hurt him. After you calmed down a little bit, you told him about what you were doing and asked, “How do you feel about continuing to go to church with your parents?”

“I think it sounds like a good idea. I’ve been thinking about it anyway. Besides, my mom will be thrilled.”

You laughed softly and said, “I don’t really know how to explain it. I just know that I need to do it, if that makes sense.”

“It does, and I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

“Thank you.”

After your conversation with Jaehyun, the two of you started to go to church together every week. With every service sitting in a pew next to the man you loved, you grew more certain that you were doing the right thing, and you were frankly ecstatic that you were finally starting to build the relationship with God that you’d been looking for since childhood.

Once you were certain that it was what you wanted, you went to a nearby bookstore to buy a physical copy of the Bible, instead of continuing to use an app. Sure, using an app had helped you start reading the book again, but for long-term study and reading, you really wanted to use a physical copy. Once you chose one that spoke to you, you found a pen and a set of highlighters so that you could take notes, and you were overjoyed.

On top of reading and studying the Bible itself, you spent hours researching different denominations and their beliefs, trying to understand where your own worldview fit into things. In the end, you decided that the denomination that Jaehyun’s parents’ church belonged to aligned with your values, and you were happy to keep attending with them. Plus, the fact that you got along so well with his family certainly helped your relationship with Jaehyun.

A few months after you started regularly attending church with Jaehyun’s family, Dongyoung arrived at your apartment to pick Jiyeon up and stopped to look at you for a minute, which he didn’t usually do. You wondered if you had something stuck in your teeth or something, but before you could ask, he said, “You look different.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re carrying yourself differently than you used to. You seem a lot calmer than usual. Did something happen recently?”

For a brief moment, you wondered if you should tell him about going to church with Jaehyun. You initially decided against it, but after another moment of thought, you said, “I mean, I started going to church again. Maybe that's it?”

“You what?” Dongyoung asked, clearly surprised.

“I know,” you said with a sigh. “When I met Jaehyun’s parents a few months ago, they invited me to go with them. I went, and actually felt something for the first time. I've been going to their church since, and I've never felt more at home.”

“Wow,” he said, his voice softening as he processed what you told him. “Not what I expected, but I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

Dongyoung was quiet for a minute before he said, “I went back a few weeks ago. Ministry may not have been the right path for me, but I couldn't just walk away fron faith entirely.”

“I understand that,” you said as you helped Dongyoung pack his car with Jiyeon’s things. “For what it's worth, if it's what you want, I think you could find your way back to it.”

“Thank you,” he said, clearly trying not to show how emotional he was. After taking a moment to collect himself, he said, “If you ever wanna, you know, talk about it, or have any questions, I’d be happy to listen. No matter what it is, I'm sure I've wrestled with it on my own.”

“That means a lot to me. I might take you up on it at some point. I have some things I've been wondering about lately.”

“You know where to find me.”

With that, he got in his car, and you watched him drive away. Once he was out of your line of sight, you went inside to spend some quiet time with Jaehyun and think about how your life had changed so much in what felt like a short period of time.

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

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When you first met Jihoon, you had no idea just how important he would become as you lived your life. All you knew was that the two of you were in the same physics class, and your teacher, Mr. Jeon, had just paired you up for a project. The details of the project made very little sense to you, but Jihoon understood all of it perfectly. You were honestly amazed by how quickly he seemed to grasp everything when it came to the course material, especially considering physics was a subject that you’d always struggled in.

You were smart, sure, but history and English had always been easier for you to understand than math and science, which seemed to be Jihoon’s strengths based on the fact that he always got the highest grades in your class. You sort of felt like an asshole for admitting it to yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved when Mr. Jeon told you that you would be working with him.

One of the things that you learned very quickly about Jihoon was that he always felt like he needed to be the best. Of course, you learned it the hard way, by doing one of the simpler parts of the project to a standard that he considered unacceptable. You showed him your work during one of your meetings at his house, and when he looked over the sheet of equations, he looked at you with what you could only describe as disgust and asked, “Are you kidding me?”

“What do you mean?”

“All of these are wrong.”

“No, they aren’t. I checked them three times.”

“Then you didn’t check them correctly. Look,” he responded, showing you the mistakes that you’d missed. You wanted to leave in that moment, but your pride wouldn’t let you. So, you took the paper back with a huff and fixed the mistakes that Jihoon had pointed out. Once you were fairly sure you’d fixed everything, you gave the paper back to your partner, and he gave you a smile before he said, “See?”

You rolled your eyes in response and said, “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

The last time the two of you got together to put finishing touches on your project, Jihoon seemed a lot more nervous than usual. So, once the two of you were settled at his dining room table, you asked, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just nervous about this project, you know?”

You sighed and answered, “Yeah, I know. My whole grade is riding on this.”

“I sort of figured you were struggling. That’s why I’ve tried so hard to make sure everything is done the right way. I just wanted you to do well so that you pass. You’re smart. It’s not fair for you to fail because of silly mistakes.”

You smiled at his words and said, “Thanks for watching out for me.”

After that, the two of you finished the few things that still had to be done, and your project was officially complete. Strangely enough, though, you really didn’t want to leave. If you’d finished the project a few weeks ago, you would have practically sprinted to get out of Jihoon’s dining room and never spoken to him again. Sitting at the familiar table, though, watching the way he smiled at you, you really didn’t want to leave.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Jihoon said, “Would you want to stay for a bit longer? You don’t have to, of course, I just thought-”

“That sounds great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What do you wanna do now?”

“We could watch a movie if you want.”

“What movie did you have in mind?”

Jihoon led you to his living room and pulled a box out from under the coffee table. You were a bit confused at first, but when you saw the countless DVDs that filled the box, you understood what was happening. He dug through the box for what felt like an eternity before he pulled one of them out and passed the case to you as he asked, “What do you think about this one?”

You read the summary on the back of the case and thought for a moment. Sure, the goofy comedy wasn’t necessarily your thing, but you didn’t care at that point. So, you smiled and said, “I think it sounds great,” passing the case back to Jihoon.

Jihoon put the box back under the coffee table, stood up from his spot, and put the DVD in the player that was hooked up to his TV. Then, he led you to the couch, and the two of you sat next to each other with smiles on your faces as the movie started to play.

While you and Jihoon watched the movie, you talked about whatever came to mind, both related to the movie and related to your lives outside of school. He told you about his lifelong interest in physics, and you told him about how badly you wanted to be a teacher when you grew up. With a smile on his face and a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite identify, he said, “I think you’d be an amazing teacher.”

“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

You weren't entirely sure what changed after the project was finished. All you knew was that seemingly in the blink of an eye, you and Jihoon were practically inseparable. You even hosted a joint graduation party after your senior year ended, which is where Jihoon gave you the nickname “star.” You tried to ask him why he wanted to call you “star” of all things, but he refused to tell you. You decided not to press further, though. After all, it was cute.

After graduating high school, you and Jihoon both went to a nearby community college to study education, with both of you planning to become teachers after getting your degrees. It was actually during your last year of college that you realized that your feelings for Jihoon weren’t strictly platonic anymore. You were slightly embarrassed by the realization, especially considering it took so long, but you couldn’t get too mad at yourself. After all, you were pretty sure that Jihoon felt the same way about you.

You found out for sure that Jihoon reciprocated your feelings on a night that you were least expecting it. You’d gone to a party that your mutual friend Junhui was hosting, expecting a night of fun with your friends. What you found instead was a cold reminder of how alone you truly felt. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, no one paid any attention to you unless they were asking you where to find someone else, and you couldn’t find Jihoon anywhere. After about an hour of being too overwhelmed to function, you found an empty bathroom, locked yourself in, and cried until you could hardly breathe.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a knock on the door and Jihoon’s voice hesitantly ask, “Is everything ok in there?”

“I’m fine,” you choked out, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t press further.

“Come on, star. What’s wrong?” the other person, who you now knew was Jihoon, asked.

“Nothing, Ji. I’m fine,” you mumbled, though you knew that he knew you were lying.

“Are you actively using the bathroom?” Jihoon asked hesitantly.

“No. Why?”

“Let me in.”

“Dude what the fuck?”

“I’m not leaving you alone to cry in a bathroom, star.”

“I’m not crying,” you choked out through your tears.

“You know as well as I do that’s bullshit. Can I come in?”

With a sigh, you unlocked the door and let Jihoon in. The small bathroom was cramped, with both of you uncomfortably close, but neither of you really cared. The moment the bathroom door was locked again, you threw your arms around your best friend’s neck and sobbed, too overwhelmed to even begin to try to explain how you were feeling. While you cried, he rubbed your back and mumbled soft reassurances, telling you that everything would be ok and that you weren’t alone as long as he had any say in the matter.

Eventually, your tears stopped, and he asked, “Do you feel better after getting it all out?”

You nodded and answered, “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

Jihoon smiled at your answer and said, “How about we go back out there? I think there’s a line anyway.” You practically deflated at the suggestion, so he thought for a minute before he added, “Maybe we could find a sort-of secluded area outside?”

You smiled a little bit at that and said, “That sounds really nice.”

With that, Jihoon unlocked the bathroom door, took your hand, and led you outside to an unoccupied corner of Junhui’s backyard. You both sat down in the grass, laughing together when you stumbled, and you spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything while the party around you seemed to fall away.

As you talked and laughed with Jihoon, you found yourself thinking about him once again in ways that you were certain that he didn’t think about you. Still, there was a hint of curiosity as to whether he liked anyone at all, considering you never heard him talk about anything but his classes and frustrations with his professors.

Figuring that nothing interesting would happen, you asked Jihoon, “So, do you like anyone right now?”

“Oh, well,” he began, clearly surprised by your question, “I mean there’s one person that I’m interested in. I don’t know if those feelings are reciprocated, though."

“Oh, who is it?” you asked, hoping not to seem too nosy.

A faint blush creeped up Jihoon’s cheeks, and a shy smile formed on his face as he tried to form the words to answer your question. It took a bit of time, but eventually he managed to say, “I don’t think you’d know them.”

“That’s ok. I’d still like to know if you’re comfortable sharing.”

Jihoon seemed to contemplate whether he should answer your question for an eternity before he mumbled something that you couldn’t quite hear.  You asked him what he said, and he repeated, “It’s you.”

You were so surprised by his answer, you didn’t speak for what felt like several minutes. When you snapped out of your thoughts and noticed that Jihoon seemed upset, though, you smiled and said, “Hey, I’m sorry. You were probably worried about making me uncomfortable, right?” He nodded, and you said, “I like you too.”

With a shy smile on his face, Jihoon leaned closer to you and kissed your cheek before he said, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“Should I say it again, then?” you asked, a teasing grin on your face as you admired the blush on Jihoon’s cheeks. He nodded, and you added, “I like you. A lot. I have for a long time.”

With slightly more confidence than he had before, Jihoon kissed you. As you kissed him back, he pulled you closer, with every movement full of love and care, almost like he was worried about hurting you still.

When he pulled away, he smiled and said, “Do you wanna come back to my place with me tonight?”

“That sounds nice,” you answered softly.

With that, you and Jihoon both stood, and you took his hand before he walked you back to his car. When you got there, he opened the door for you and let you get in, and you thanked him. Then he quickly got into the driver’s seat and took you back to his apartment.

When you got back to Jihoon’s apartment, the two of you stumbled inside, still talking and laughing about every little thing that came to mind. After your jacket and shoes were off, he led you to his room, offering you some of his clothes to sleep in. You both got changed, and you climbed into bed with him. Once you found a comfortable position, you fell asleep pretty much instantly, content with the events of the night and happy to have someone like Jihoon in your life.

One of the things about Jihoon that became abundantly clear over the course of your relationship with him was his desire to be the best. He took pride in the fact that he was at the top of your graduating class, and his drive every time he spoke about a difficult project made you fall even harder for him. Still, you were worried about him. After all, he could get obsessive in his desire to be the best, and your concern that he’d unintentionally hurt himself by pushing too hard only grew as your relationship developed.

You tried a handful of times to talk to Jihoon about your concerns, but every time, he gave you the same explanation about how he knew his limits and always took care of himself. You knew that wasn’t true, considering all the sleepless nights you’d held him through and the number of times you had to remind him to eat because he was so engrossed in a project, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you just said, “I love you. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

“And I’m both of those things. I appreciate the concern, star, but I’m ok.”

“Ok, I trust you.”

While the stress of your final year of college did put some strain on your relationship, you came out the other side closer than ever. You loved Jihoon, and you knew that he loved you. He always treated you with the utmost respect, and while he was the more serious one compared to you, he also knew how to make you laugh and when you needed to laugh. You were happier than you ever thought you could be, and you were certain that it would last forever.

After you both earned your degrees, you got married in a small, intimate ceremony with your closest family and friends, celebrating the relationship that you’d built together over the years. Every moment of that day was perfect. Everyone that you cared about was present, the venue was everything you’d dreamed of since childhood, and you were marrying the man of your dreams. As you looked into Jihoon’s eyes and declared that you would love him for the rest of your life, no matter what, you felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

For years, you continued to feel like you were the luckiest woman on Earth. You were married to the love of your life, you lived in an apartment that you loved, and you had the job of your dreams. After graduating college, you’d gotten a job teaching advanced English at your former high school, and you loved every minute. Sure, a lot of your students were disrespectful and annoying, and there were some parents that just refused to cooperate with you when all you wanted was to help, but you still loved the work itself, which made everything worth it.

Around the same time that you got a job as an English teacher, Jihoon got a job at the same school teaching physics. You always teased him because he taught the same class that the two of you had met in as teenagers, but it was all out of love. You knew that your husband was passionate about science, and he loved to help others. Even when the two of you were students instead of teachers, he was always tutoring your classmates, getting excited every time that he helped someone understand a difficult concept.

The problem was that his obsession with being the best didn’t fade even a little bit as he settled into life as a teacher rather than a student. Instead, it actually grew more intense, with your husband spending nearly all of his free time that wasn’t spent with you finding ways to prove that he was “better” than the other teachers. Whether he was complaining about how limiting his lesson plans were or staying up far later than he should to try to figure out the best way to explain material that his students struggled with, his passion was obvious, but so was his disregard for nearly everything that didn’t center around work.

The only exception was you. No matter how engrossed he was in his work, he always made sure to make time for you. You had weekly date nights, he constantly surprised you with small gifts that he always said made him think of you, and he never took his work-related stress out on you. Every moment with Jihoon made you feel loved.

At least, until it didn’t.

A few years into your marriage, everything changed, and it all started with something that you didn’t expect. Well, you expected the event, but not its effects on your life and marriage. On a seemingly ordinary day, during the morning announcements, your boss, Dr. Yoon, said, "And last but not least, students, don't forget to cast your votes for the district's 'Teacher of the Year' award. My office will be open for an hour after school ends to vote, and voting ends in two weeks. Thank you, and have a wonderful day."

The announcements ended, and the rest of the day went on like normal until you and Jihoon went home together after work. The moment the car doors were shut, you asked, "Who do you think is gonna win the teacher of the year award?"

"Me, obviously," Jihoon answered, radiating confidence with every word. "I mean, I've won four years in a row."

"That's true. It's fun to wonder, though."

Jihoon mumbled under his breath, but you didn't push to find out what he said. You'd had a long day, and you just wanted to go home and spend some time with your husband. When you finally got home, though, he went right to his desk and got to work preparing materials for the next day’s lesson, seeming to forget you were even there. You considered saying something, but you decided against it, too tired to worry about anything but getting some sleep.

Two weeks came and went, and the day of the "Teacher of the Year" ceremony arrived. Jihoon was more confident than you'd seen him in months, and as the two of you walked into the auditorium, you were sure that nothing could ruin his mood.

Of course, you were proven wrong when Dr. Yoon stepped onto the stage after Vice Principal Hong's introduction.

"Welcome, everyone," your boss said, "to the 'Teacher of the Year' award ceremony. Before I announce our winner, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our faculty for their contributions to this district. Never forget that all of you have had a positive impact on our students and changed their lives for the better, even if only one person can win this award."

Everyone in the auditorium clapped, and once the applause died down, Dr. Yoon continued, “Without further ado, our Teacher of the Year is Mr. Kwon!”

After more applause, Dr. Yoon went on about Mr. Kwon’s achievements as the school’s health and P.E. teacher, and the more you listened to your boss speak about the lengths your co-worker went to help his students succeed, the more strongly you felt that he deserved to be recognized for his effort to make real change.

Jihoon, however, disagreed, and he was livid that Mr. Kwon won the award. He spent the entire car ride home after the ceremony ranting about how Mr. Kwon wasn’t a real teacher and how he didn’t deserve the “great honor” of winning the award. But as he went on, it became increasingly obvious that it wasn't about Mr. Kwon or his teaching abilities at all. It was about the fact that someone other than him won.

You knew from the moment that the ceremony was announced that Jihoon wanted to win. He’d always wanted to be the best, and his method of measuring whether he was the best had always been validation from other people. You also knew that there were other ways to measure success, and you really wanted to help your husband.

You didn't manage to get a word in about any of that on the way home. Or after you got home, for that matter. But to be fair, after the tenth time Jihoon said, “I just don't understand why it was him,” you gave up on trying to reassure him and just went to bed.

Before the ceremony, you never went a day without feeling loved. In the weeks following the ceremony, however, Jihoon seemed fine with the fact that your relationship had taken a backseat to his work. You tried to be understanding when he cancelled dates or came home late from meetings with parents, but you would have been lying if you’d said that it didn’t hurt to feel so unimportant to your husband, especially so suddenly.

It started small. You’d had a horrible day at work, and during your lunch break, you texted Jihoon with a request.

You: Can we get takeout and watch a movie tonight? I’ve been so tired and just wanna relax with you after work. Jihoon: Of course, love. I think that sounds wonderful. Where do you wanna get the food from? You: Maybe that Thai restaurant that just opened? Jihoon: Sounds good! What do you want? I’ll pick it up on my way home from my last parent conference tonight.

You looked at the restaurant’s menu online and told Jihoon what you wanted. He stopped replying to your messages after that, but you decided not to worry about it, since he frequently stopped responding to texts when he was busy. Besides, you didn’t need a text to confirm that your husband loved you.

After you finished work for the day, you texted Jihoon again to thank him for picking up dinner and went home. Once you were home, you immediately changed into your favorite pajamas and started looking through the DVD collection that you now shared with Jihoon. After deciding on a cozy romance movie, you cleaned your living room and put the movie in Jihoon’s old DVD player.

You waited for Jihoon to come home for almost an hour before you finally decided to cook dinner for yourself and watch the movie without him. At first, you were disappointed, since you were looking forward to the quality time with your husband. But as you got sucked into the plot of a movie, you forgot that he was even there, just enjoying the quiet time spent with your mind somewhere else.

When Jihoon finally came home about a half hour after the movie ended, he looked guilty. Before you could even ask him where the hell he’d been, he said, “I’m sorry. I was leaving the last parent conference and noticed Mr. Boo struggling to put new decorations up, so I offered to help. I know we had plans, but I couldn’t just leave him hanging like that.”

“You didn’t think to give me a heads up?” you asked, frustrated and hurt that he basically ignored you for hours on end. He said nothing in response, so you said, “Whatever. I’m going to bed early. Good night, Jihoon.”

“Good night, star,” he mumbled as you walked away.

After the movie night incident, things with Jihoon got slightly better. He still stayed late for additional parent conferences or to help a coworker, but now he at least remembered to tell you when he was staying late. Sure, you were still frustrated by how much more time he spent away from home, but you tried to tell yourself that everything would be ok.

The only problem with that was that even when he was home, he didn’t really acknowledge you. Sure, you knew that he was busy, but you didn’t understand why it was so hard to respond to a simple question like, “What do you want to have for dinner?” or “Can we talk about the plan for dinner with your parents this weekend?”

In the end, though, despite your frustrations, you tried to give him some grace and support his attempts to get better at his job. After all, he had hurt you, but he was still your husband, and you loved him more than you’d ever thought loving another person was possible.

You chose to keep it simple, buying him a cup of coffee on your way to work. You brought it to his classroom before the day began, and he smiled and said, “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, I love you.”

He didn’t say it back, simply turning his computer on and getting ready for the day. You wanted to be hurt and disappointed that the first time he spoke to you that day was thanking you for the coffee, but you refused to let yourself get upset at work. So, you walked back to your own classroom and got ready for another day of teaching.

At the end of the day, you considered trying to talk to Jihoon about how you felt about being ignored unless you were doing something for him, but you decided against it almost immediately. After all, you still wanted to hope that things would get better and that he’d stop caring so much about proving he was good at the job you knew he excelled in.

After the coffee incident, you tried to stay hopeful. After all, you wanted to believe that all the times Jihoon had forgotten you or treated you like you were unimportant were just a brief rough patch. Besides, when you spoke to him about going to your parents’ anniversary dinner, he seemed genuinely happy to go, and a small part of you dared to hope that he would actually start to balance work and the rest of his life better.

Your hope deflated like a sad balloon, however, when you recieved the following text an hour before the school day ended:

Jihoon: I’m so sorry, star, but I can’t make it tonight. Surprise science department meeting to go over last minute cirriculum changes for next year. You: Are you serious? Jihoon: I know, I’m sorry. You: Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you tonight

With that, you went about the rest of your day, trying not to think about the situation with Jihoon. Sure, you understood that last minute commitments were part of life, but that didn’t change how you felt about it. You were frustrated with the teachers that were in charge of coordinating the meetings, and you were disappointed that once again, you were taking a backseat to work.

None of the family members that attended your parents’ anniversary dinner knew that, though. As far as they could tell, you and Jihoon were the same happy couple that you’d always been. In fact, you played the part so well that you almost believed it yourself, except for the little voice in the back of your head that cried out for a husband that still treated you like he loved you.

You finally decided that you were done being the only one fighting for your marriage on your tenth anniversary. It should have been a day to celebrate the love that you and Jihoon had for each other, but instead, he sat at his laptop revising lesson plans and emailing parents. Just like always, you'd tried to be understanding, but in return, you got a complete lack of acknowledgement unless he was asking you for more coffee.

The only exception, of course, was when he asked, “Star, would you be ok with it if we moved our date night?”

“What?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“I know you were looking forward to dinner and the movies, but I've gotta completely redo my lesson plans because of those stupid revisions.”

“Can't this wait until summer break or something since, you know, it's for next year?”

“I wish, but Yoon has been up my ass about getting it done by the last day of school.”

You were pretty sure that wasn't true, considering Dr. Yoon was notoriously lax about deadlines, but you were too tired to fight about it. So, you sighed and said, “Sure, I'll cancel the date.”

“Thank you. I love you,” Jihoon said. You were quiet in response, so he loudly and playfully repeated, “I love you.” Again, you were silent, so he asked, “You're not gonna say it back?”

“Jihoon, I'm tired,” you answered, all of your attempts at being calm going out the window.

“That doesn't mean you can't tell me that you love me.”

“Well, to be honest, I don't think I do anymore.”

“You've gotta be joking,” Jihoon said, his voice holding a mixture of hurt and confusion.

“I'm not. I'm sick of taking a backseat to your work.”

“My work is important to me, and you know that,” Jihoon spat.

“Yes, I do, but I also remember when I was important to you.”

“Oh come on, you have to know that you’re important to me.”

“I used to, but not anymore.”

There was a moment of silence before Jihoon said, “I just want to do well at work. Why is that a problem?”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that you treat me like I’m nothing to you unless I’m bringing you a fucking cup of coffee or telling you that I remembered to cancel our date like you asked.”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t you dare tell me it isn’t true,” you interrupted. “You just asked me to cancel our goddamn anniversary date because of a deadline we both know is bullshit.”

“Today is our anniversary?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it is," you answered coldly. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

“Are you coming back?”

You didn't answer as you grabbed your purse and walked out.

The next morning, you came home from your parents’ house feeling more scared than you wanted to admit. You knew that you had to talk to Jihoon about it, but you really didn’t want to. After all, it made the decision to walk away finally feel real, and you were afraid that if you acknowledged the pain, it would consume you.

When you finally made yourself open the door, Jihoon was sitting at the table with papers in his hands, tears streaming down his face. Before you could say anything, he said, “We have a prenup, and there are no kids to worry about, so it should be quick and painless. I’m not gonna fight you on it. I know I haven’t been a good husband.”

You briefly considered making a comment about how the painless part felt like a cruel joke. How everything about the end of your marriage was painful. How the pain was eating away at you and how you would have given anything to not feel it all. But instead, you just sighed and said, “Thank you for the last ten years. I’m sorry it had to end this way.” There was a moment of silence before you said, “Last night I made arrangements to stay with my sister until everything is settled.”

“That’s good.” There was a moment of silence before Jihoon asked, “So, this is it, then?”

“I think so,” you answered.

The divorce was in fact quick, with you and Jihoon coming to an agreement on how to split shared property in far less time than you expected. You were correct about the process being painless, but you were incredibly relieved when it was all over.

The months following your divorce came and went, and it was time for the “Teacher of the Year” award to be given again. You didn’t pay any attention to conversations about it or the speculation about who it would be, though, far too focused on managing your own life to even try, but just like you always did, you still attended the ceremony.

After an introduction that you didn’t pay attention to, Dr. Yoon said Jihoon’s name, and suddenly you were hanging onto every word. You listened as your boss praised your ex husband’s dedication to his job and how every moment of it paid off, and it was all you could do to stay in your seat and stop yourself from crying.

After the ceremony, you went right home, wondering if Jihoon was happy with himself. After all, he got exactly what he wanted, but this time, you wouldn’t be there to celebrate with him.

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.

🦠 WHAT IS THE AWAKENING?

The Awakening is Do Re Reef’s Halloween 2026 event. 

Every participating writer will create a story set within the same original zombie apocalypse universe provided by Do Re Reef, following shared lore while telling their own unique story. Some characters may cross paths and others may only hear whispers of one another. Together, every fic will become part of a larger world.

Readers can join too by recommending zombie themed SEVENTEEN fics to help us build a community masterlist celebrating the genre.

Both readers and writers have the option to also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a participating writer to make one for their fic. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves.

Decrypting recovered files...

🧬 OUTBREAK FILE

It’s so easy to make a mistake, to lose focus for a split second and to ruin something previously so beautiful. Though, there is an argument to be made that humanity, although resilient and with a collection of positives, can struggle to keep hold of its beauty when the world grows deeper into ruin as the days pass. Perhaps, when you think of it in that way, this particular mistake was for the best. This particular mistake has given humanity no choice but to return to its roots; to return to nature and give the world time to heal. Of course, you have to ignore the blood spilled, the bodies bitten, and lives overtaken. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay to allow nature to reclaim the earth and the natural order of things. Then again, is greener grass and brighter flowers worth the blood spilled to allow the growth? Is the cleaner air a fair exchange for less living roaming the streets? There’s a balance to the world, at least, there should be, but a mistake can tip the scales, and it’s not quite so clear cut as to whether that’s a good or bad thing. It’s all a matter of perspective, really. It’s down to you to decide how this story goes; if one can flourish or flounder when faced by once-humans mindlessly clawing and gnawing, controlled by the ancient parasite burrowed in their brain stem with the sole purpose of further infecting humanity one bite at a time. Can humanity overcome this mistake and claim back their world before it’s too late? It’s time to find out.

Transmission received. Preparing survivor briefing...

📂 SURVIVOR BRIEFING

🧟‍♂️ Writers

⏲ Receive your assigned member, gain access to the event lore, and write your own story within The Awakening universe. ⏲ Every story is unique, but every story contributes to the same outbreak. ⏲ Optional: Writers may also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a writer to make one for their story. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves. ⏲ All event fics and moodboards will be reblogged by Do Re Reef and will be added to the event masterlist.

🧟‍♂️ Readers

⏲ Recommend existing zombie themed SEVENTEEN fics to be included in the event masterlist. ⏲ Recommendations don’t need to be stories you’ve personally read as long as the summary, tags, or description clearly fit the setting, they’re welcome. The recommended story doesn’t need to focus directly on zombies— survival, relationships, or everyday life during the outbreak all fit the theme. ⏲ Optional: Readers may also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a writer to make one for their story. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves. ⏲ Recommendations and moodboards will also be featured on the event masterlist, with moodboards also being reblogged by Do Re Reef.

Time is running out. Here’s what we know.

📅 OUTBREAK TIMELINE

Event Runs: 23rd July – 31st October Sign-ups Close: 6th August Drop-out deadline: 17th September 

𓉸 Assignments are first come, first served. If another participant has already selected your preferred SEVENTEEN member, you’ll be asked to choose another. There are only 13 writer spaces available, so don’t hesitate or you may lose your chance.

Survival depends on more than luck. Read these protocols carefully.

☣️ SURVIVAL PROTOCOLS

Participation is exclusive to Do Re Reef members. If you’re joining from Tumblr and not a member already, you’ll need to complete the network application before your event sign-up can be accepted.

Writers will each be assigned 1 SEVENTEEN member on a first come, first served basis. There are 13 writer slots available.

All stories must take place within The Awakening shared universe and follow the event lore provided in the server.

Participants are expected to meet the event deadlines. Please only sign up if you believe you can complete your chosen role.

Minimum word count is 3k words; there is no maximum word count. Multi part stories are welcome, but part one must be at least 3k words and posted by the event deadline.

AI generated content is not permitted, including writing, graphics, or other event submissions.

Permanent death of any SEVENTEEN member (or other real life idol portrayed in the story) is not permitted. Temporary death, ghost AUs, undead portrayals, and other alternate forms are welcome.

Because every story exists within the same shared universe, writers may occasionally need to coordinate with one another if their stories intersect.

Full writing guidelines, content rules, posting requirements, event resources and others will be available in the private event channels after participants receive the event role.

If you’re still here, then maybe you’re willing to fight.

📋 ENLISTMENT Think you have what it takes to survive?

Complete the application below to join The Awakening as a writer, a reader, or both. ➜ Sign up here.

Please note that participation is exclusive to Do Re Reef members. If you’re not already part of the network, you’ll need to join and complete the verification process to gain membership before your event application can be accepted. To join the Do Re Reef, please fill out the form in this post.

Further information, including the complete lore, event guidelines, assignments, and discussion channels and threads, will become available within the private event category after participants receive the event role.

No one knows how this ends. The only question left is whether your story will be remembered after the awakening.

We wish you luck, survivor. You're going to need it.

Just like every other party, Yushi went home with you. Truthfully, you had no idea how it happened this time. All you knew was that you loved watching him squirm as you moved your hand up and down his thigh while you drove. You could tell he was trying to maintain his composure until the two of you got back to his apartment, and you were proud of the fact that your actions had such a strong effect on him.

When you got back to your apartment building, you held his hand as the two of you walked up the stairs, and somehow that felt even more intimate than your actions in the car. It made you wonder if there really was a chance of the way you felt about him leading to more than just sex. Usually, you wouldn't have entertained the thought, but something about the way his hand felt in yours made you wonder this time.

Once you were through the door, Yushi pulled your dress off and pinned you to the door as he said, “You looked so fucking pretty in this dress, made me wanna tear it off right in the middle of the party.”

You stifled a moan as he attached his lips to your neck and said, “That’s why I wore it. Wanted you to look at me like that.”

He stopped kissing and biting just long enough to say, “Well you got exactly what you wanted. Couldn’t stop staring all night.”

“Then do something about it,” you said, enjoying his desperation.

“Wanna tease you first.”

You gave him an exaggerated pout and asked, “But why?”

“Cause you're so cute when you're desperate, baby,” he answered as he started to tease you over your underwear. A quiet whine slipped out of your mouth, and he added, “See? So fucking cute.”

“Fuck you,” you said in between whimpers.

“Well, if you insist,” Yushi replied with a soft laugh as he finally moved away from the door.

Without another word, you practically dragged Yushi to your room and finally got rid of the rest of your clothes while you watched him undress. Once your clothes were out of the way, you pushed him onto your bed and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, already struggling to maintain your composure as you adjusted to how he felt inside you.

“Feels so good,” you whined as you moved against him.

“Fuck, I know, princess. Love the way you ride me.”

As you bounced on his cock, the room got surprisingly quiet. Typically, when you had sex with Yushi, it was loud and messy. But this time, both of you were too focused on how it actually to perform for each other the way you usually did.

Occasionally, Yushi would whisper, “Just like that, baby” or “Feels so good,” and all you could think about was how beautiful he looked when he was lost in pleasure.

As your high approached, you tried to warn Yushi like you usually did, but when you opened your mouth to speak, a loud moan slipped out instead. You held him close while you fell apart on top of him, and the sounds that came out as he came inside you could only be described as whines.

Neither of you said anything while you caught your breath, with both of you lost in your own worlds. While you continued to hold him close, you thought about how badly you didn't want him to leave and how badly you wanted more than sex.

After you calmed down, you carefully climbed off of Yushi, and both of you worked together to clean up. Then, you brought him some of the spare clothes that he kept at your place for nights just like this. As you both got dressed, you caught him staring at you, and the butterflies in your stomach that you’d tried to convince yourself didn’t exist came fluttering back to remind you of how you felt about Yushi.

A slightly awkward silence settled over the room after you were both dressed, and you broke it by asking, “Do you wanna stay tonight?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, confused by his reaction.

“You don’t usually ask me to stay.”

“Well, I always want you to,” you mumbled.

“I’m happy to, for the record,” Yushi answered, seeming to notice how nervous you felt. After another moment of silence, he asked, “Do you wanna cuddle for a bit?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you answered, getting back into bed and finally relaxing as Yushi followed suit and put his arms around you.

“You know, this is always my favorite part,” Yushi whispered before kissing your forehead.

“What do you mean?”

“Holding you close, reminding you how much I care even when we’re not fucking.”

“It means a lot to me, you know.”

“Well, you mean a lot to me.” Yushi was quiet for a minute before he added, “Do you maybe wanna go on a real date sometime?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you answered before kissing him softly.

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.

The day that you moved in with Kuanjui, he promised you that the two of you would be married within two years. You honestly had no idea if you believed him at the time, considering the fact that you'd never known him to be good at doing things within a specific time frame. But now, standingoutside of the hall where everyone you loved was waiting for you to walk down the aisle, you realized how foolish you were to doubt him. After all, when it mattered, he always kept his word.

Your bridesmaids entered the venue before you did, signaling to everyone that the ceremony was starting. As they walked toward the altar, your favorite song played from a small speaker at the front of the room. It was a soft, romantic ballad that you felt captured your relationship with Kuanjui perfectly, and as the time for your entrance came, you silently hoped your makeup wouldn’t be ruined by the tears that threatened to fall.

When the time for you to enter finally came, you carefully stepped into the room, eyes locked on Kuanjui to keep you grounded as you walked toward the beginning of the rest of your lives together. Once you were standing in front of him, he leaned closer and whispered, “Are you ready?”

“How could I not be?”

With a smile, you turned toward the officiant, and he went on for far longer than you wanted about the beauty of marriage and the importance of having someone in your corner. Sure, it was a beautiful speech, but you got more and more impatient with every word. You really just wanted to get to the part where you could declare your undying love and exchange the rings. So, while you waited, you fantasized about the rest of your life with Kuanjui.

Your focus was quickly pulled back, however, when it was finally time for the vows and exchanging of rings. Kuanjui read his first, and when he took your hand, a feeling settled in the pit of your stomach that told you that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

With a smile, he said your name and began, “When we moved in together, I promised you that we would be married within two years. Now, a year later, we’re exactly where I promised you we’d be. I hope that just goes to show that I do know how to get things done.” You laughed softly, and he continued, “Now, as we walk into marriage together, I promise to love and protect you for the rest of my life. I promise to always act with your best interests in mind, and I promise that you will always have a safe place to come home to for as long as I have a say in the matter. I love you.” Then, with his eyes shining, he gently slid your ring onto your finger.

When Kuanjui finished his vows, the officiant turned to you, and you cleared your throat before you said, “Kuanjui, you’ve been my rock for four years now, and I can only hope that I’ve been able to support you in the same way over the course of our relationship.” You started to tear up as you spoke, so you took a moment to breathe before you said, “It’s been an honor to love you, and I swear that I will continue to love you with everything I have for as long as I live.” After you finished speaking, you carefully put Kuanjui’s ring on his finger and said, “I love you.”

By that point, both you and Kuanjui had started to cry, your makeup and his smudging as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. Once both of you collected yourselves, however, the officiant said, “Now that you’ve exchanged vows and rings, it is with great joy that I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The first time you kissed Kuanjui as a married couple felt like magic. You got so lost in the way his lips felt on yours, in fact, that you almost forgot that you still had the rest of the wedding to go to. You were swiftly reminded, however, when you heard your friend Haru yell, “Get a room!”

When you pulled away, you looked into Kuanjui’s eyes and saw a combination of love and awe that you swore you’d never seen before, as you took his hand to walk out of the hall, you hoped that he’d keep looking at you just like that for the rest of your life.

As you made your way to the area of the venue reserved for the cocktail hour and reception, you laughed and said, “I can’t believe we’re married now.”

“Why is it such a shock? I told you I would marry you, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“No buts, my love. You should know by now that I always keep my promises.” he said as he softly kissed your forehead.

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.

Honestly, at first, it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to accept so many jobs as a Private Investigator which put you right in the Detective’s vicinity so much. You didn’t mean to almost consistently take on jobs that had you stepping on his toes. You just accepted the jobs that seemed interesting to you and did the best you could; even if that meant pointing out things the man missed when you happened to be at the same place, working on the same case, yet answering to different bosses.

But then, when you realised how cute Junhui looks trying to keep his cool, how easily he flusters and loses his ability to string an intelligent sentence together when you turn up and push his buttons just right, well, you couldn’t really help but push at every chance.

Admittedly, you don’t even pay attention to the job sometimes; you read the requests just enough to get the general idea of the job, so that you can figure out if it will be a case that gets dropped on the desk of Detective Wen Junhui to handle or not. Then, once the investigation begins, you spend most of the time bouncing along close to the tall, handsome detective’s side with a pleased grin on your face as you watch him try to pretend that he’s not trying his damndest to keep his composure. His clenched jaw sure is pretty from that angle too, so that’s a nice little bonus of following him like an irritating shadow.

That being said, you never shirk your duties. Every case you take on, you do, in fact, solve; often in collaboration with Junhui. As much as he obviously wishes otherwise, the two of you make an incredible team despite not being colleagues— not when humans aren’t allowed to become cops due to how fragile they are compared to supernatural beings; you know you would’ve made a great cop otherwise.

In fact, you both have better success rates, close more cases, when you’re side by side than apart. At this point, you’re pretty much an honorary cop, and Junhui has clearly been told by his superiors to play nice with you so that fewer crimes remain unsolved— or, at least, get solved quicker.

With your entire heart, you can say that even without getting the chance to watch the tall werewolf try to not snap at you— no pun intended— on an almost daily basis, you would love your job. But getting to watch Junhui’s eyes flicker gold in that moment before he turns away from you is truly the icing on the cake.

It’s just another job, just another day of you and Wen Junhui working side by side to investigate a foul, pathetic excuse of a life form, when things get a little different.

In all you’ve worked together, in all the danger you’ve been in and fought off together, you’ve never been led into a trap like this.

The little, abandoned, underground convenience store you’re in suddenly turns dark with the clunk of a shutter closing. Even with his advanced hearing and speed, Junhui doesn’t manage to notice or move fast enough to stop it from happening; his extended hands meet the metal just as the edge hits the cracked tile flooring below.

“Well, that’s new,” you muse from where you remain in place, knowing that you don’t have a chance in hell of navigating the space without your sight considering all the stuff strewn over the tiled floor; rubbish, debris, and other disgusting items you truly don’t want to get a closer look at.

Junhui doesn’t respond, and you honestly don’t expect him to, but you do hear him huff out an extra frustrated grunt where he’s already trying to physically yank the shutter up, despite the fact that you both know store shutters are made to withstand supernatural strength.

For a few minutes, Junhui incessantly yanks and hits at the metal in his attempts to remove it. At best, all he does is make a tiny dent along the bottom edge, just enough to let a small amount of light filter in. It’s not enough to do much but let you see his feet moving around, but you still stare at it; naturally drawn to whatever allows your simple, human eyesight to function.

“Given up?” you question when the clanging stops and Junhui stumbles back a few steps. He doesn’t answer, but you do hear him let out an almost pained sounding gasp before there’s a thud of what sounds like someone dropping to their knees. “Junhui?” You’ve barely shuffled a few steps forward before he lets out a desperate sounding noise, and there’s another clank of metal as if something has hit it heavily.

“Stay back!” he demands harshly, in such a pained tone that you fall still in shock.

“Are you hurt?” you ask quietly, worried. For all you love to piss off the man, you can admit that you do care for him, quite a lot really.

It’s probably something like little boys pulling the pigtails of the girl they like on the playground, the way you treat Junhui. You like him, more than you’ve ever admitted to anyone, even yourself, and you don’t know how to handle that when he’s evidently far from open to even the mere whisper of a thought of liking you. The man doesn’t even like you as a friend, as an acquaintance; there’s no way he’d ever consider opening his heart to you in a romantic manner. You’ve known that since the start, so you’ve done what you can to shield your own heart, while still annoying him enough that he can’t ignore you or forget that you exist.

“No,” Junhui answers after a moment, though it doesn’t sound truthful; he sounds strained in a way you haven’t heard him before, not even when he got shot with a silver bullet almost two years ago now. You’re not sure he knows it, but you barely left his side for the week he laid unconscious in hospital, too scared that he wasn’t going to pull through.

“Jun–” you start, tone turning a little stern to try and convince him to be honest, though as soon as you try to move from your spot to approach, he growls, and you fall still as your heart races with sudden fear.

In all you’ve taunted the man, in all you’ve pissed him off, he has never growled at you like this. Sure, you’ve heard him growl, he does it quite a lot really, but it’s never laced with such violence, such dark warning. For the first time in the five years you’ve known the man, you’re scared of him.

You’ve always known that really, Junhui could rip your throat out, tear you limb from limb without even breaking a sweat. He’s a werewolf and you a mere human; he’s got all the upper hands where strength, speed, agility, and healing abilities are concerned. But he’s never truly lost his cool with you. He’s never even looked like he would raise a hand at you, doesn’t even drop empty threats your way. For all you piss him off, Junhui is still a gentleman at heart, and has such control over himself that you’ve always instinctively known he won’t hurt you.

Yet now, now you’re questioning that.

“I fucking said stay back!” he bellows, making you jolt at the volume of his harsh words, and stumble back a few steps; tripping over something on the floor, and landing on your ass harshly. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes out, genuinely apologetic, and tone so drastically different to only seconds before that your head spins.

“What’s going on?” is all you can manage to ask as you blindly kick aside the items surrounding you where you remain on the tiles, deciding that you might as well sit down and wait until one of your colleagues realise that neither of you have checked in lately, and come to your rescue. Or whoever trapped you in here comes back to kill you, whatever happens first.

Though, you’re pretty confident that Junhui could easily take who you assume is the man you’ve been hunting down together; a fledgling vampire who hasn’t even cut his gums based on his previous victims. A pureblood werewolf will always trump a turned vampire; unless the werewolf is still just a pup and the turned vampire has at least half a century behind them. And as Junhui is a 30-year-old pureblood werewolf borne of centuries of strong werewolves, and the suspect has to have been turned into a vampire within the last six months to not even have his fangs in yet, Junhui would easily win in that fight and save both of your asses.

“Have you seriously not learned to pay attention to the fucking lunar calendar yet?” he grunts, and the metal creaks as you assume he shuffles where he’s leaning against it on the floor. A shadow flickers, so you glance at the patch of dim moonlight on the tiles only to find Junhui’s hands hovering in it, claws extended.

“It’s a full moon,” you realise, some of that fear trickling back into your body, especially when Junhui hums in confirmation and pulls his hand back out of sight, out of where you can see it and know his position. You know that if it comes down to it, Junhui could easily move so quietly that your human ears wouldn’t hear him; and with your lack of vision due to the darkness right now, you wouldn’t even know about it until his claws are buried in your flesh.

Although werewolves generally have their shifts under control and legally aren’t allowed to be out on full moons without having proven that they have the restraint to not let their instincts take over and send them on a murder rampage, you know that it doesn’t mean a lot in the first few minutes of a forced shift. And under the full moon, all werewolves have no choice but to shift into wolfskin when the moon is at the highest point in the night sky. Even if they can’t see the moon, they can’t fight the shift.

Considering the fact that you regularly go out of your way to piss Wen Junhui off, you know that tonight, your life is in real danger. As soon as he is forced out of his human form and into his wolf one, as soon as he loses himself, all that carefully controlled frustration and anger he holds for you will so easily lead his baser instincts.

“Shit,” you mutter, and he hums. “How long?”

“An hour, maybe.”

“Why did you even come down here when you knew how close the full moon is?!” you ask utterly baffled.

“Because you would’ve come alone otherwise, stubborn asshole,” he grumbles. “I’m not being responsible for a fledgling slitting your throat and draining you.”

“So, instead, you’re going to do it.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes, well aware that the man can see perfectly clearly in the dark so will know what your reaction is.

“I didn’t expect this!” he defends sharply. “I–I didn’t think we’d get trapped like this,” his voice softens again, turns guilty, worried. “I’m sorry, I…I’m really fucking sorry.”

You sigh and let your arms unfold, dropping them to your sides. “It is what it is. After all I’ve pissed you off, I probably deserve to have my leg chewed on,” you joke softly, trying to lift the mood a little.

It works, Junhui huffs a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s not just your leg I’d chew on,” he muses.

“Have you done that before?”

“Bitten someone on the leg?”

“Mm, and in general.”

“Yeah. Never a human though, never someone that can’t easily heal from it.”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his words, features pinched as you think about it. “I can’t tell if that’s a kinky sex thing or not,” you admit, and Junhui chokes out a laugh. “No? Yes? Come on, tell me all about werewolf sex; this may be the only chance I get to find out!” you enthuse.

“Please don’t remind me that I’m going to lose control soon,” he whispers, pleads.

“I didn’t mean like that. I just meant I don’t exactly know any other werewolves well enough to ask; and funnily enough, they keep away from me in general anyway. Do I smell weird or something to werewolves, by the way? I’ve always mean to ask you but get distracted and forget.”

“No.”

“No? I don’t smell weird?” He makes a noise of confirmation. “Then why do werewolves specifically avoid me so much?”

“Uhm… just…probably smell me on you,” he admits quietly, awkwardly. “Because we spend so much time together for work that you smell like me; so I guess they think you’re claimed.”

“So you’re the reason I’m not getting any kinky werewolf sex!” you exclaim, going for theatrically displeased, but it can’t land right because Junhui growls softly in warning. “Alright, damn, down boy,” you mutter. “I’m just fucking around.”

“Sorry, it’s the moon.” You don’t fully believe him, something in his tone doesn’t sound entirely truthful, but you just hum and leave the topic there, not wanting to get into it and risk setting him off.

For a couple of minutes, the two of you are quiet. There’s a tenseness to it, the impending violence hanging over your heads in a way neither of you can ignore, but you also can’t do a thing about it. It’s a reluctant acceptance you share, but something makes you think Junhui’s having more trouble than you accepting it. Then again, if you knew you were about to lose control and tear apart an innocent person, you would also not want to accept it and feel the guilt weighing heavy even before the act occurs, regardless of how much said person pisses you off on an almost daily basis.

“To your right, there’s a pole, it looks like a broken stand of some kind,” Junhui’s naturally gentle tone breaks the silence, making you jerk a little in surprise, before automatically looking to your right as if you can see it. Of course, all you see is darkness. “Reach out, I’ll guide you.”

“Why?”

“Because it may be the only hope you have of getting out of this,” he reasons with a slight tremble in his voice. You can’t tell if it’s the thought of what is going to happen, his fear causing the shakiness, or if it’s the effects of the moon getting higher, closer to its peak. “Just– Please do as I say. I know you don’t like me, but just–”

“I have literally never said that,” you say, sharp as you cut him off and turn a stern look on him. At least, where you think he is; you have no way to know for sure.

Junhui hesitates before responding, as if he’s truly stumped by your words. “You don’t hate me?” he mumbles, barely audible as if he can hardly get the words out.

“What? Hate you? No way! I don’t think anyone is capable of hating you, Jun,” you retort with a scoff. “Seriously, I think even the people you arrest don’t hate you.”

“Pretty sure they do.” He chuckles.

“Well, you thought I hate you, so I don’t think your judgement here is accurate or valid.”

“In my defence, you’ve been finding every single way to annoy me for the past five years. It’s hard to think you don’t think negatively of me,” he reasons, and well, he’s got a point there.

“And in my defence, you started it.”

“How?!”

“You refused to work with me when we met, treated me as lesser because I’m a PI. If I could be a cop, I would be; it’s not my fault it’s literally illegal.”

“That’s not what I was doing at all.”

“Really?” You give him a disbelieving look that you know he can so easily see and feel the full force of— even if you happen to be glaring at the shutter over his shoulder and not directly at him, though you’re not aware of that little fact. “I distinctly remember you saying I’m not working with someone like her, the first time you were told to work with me.”

“I didn’t mean because you’re a PI.”

“No? Then what?” In the awkward silence that follows, the guilty silence, you understand. “It’s because I’m human.” Junhui sighs, and you know you’re right. “Well, fuck you, Wen Junhui! How fucking dare you look down on me because of how I was born! You’re not automatically better than me just because you’re a werewolf, so get the fuck down from your pedestal and give me the respect I deserve.”

“No, no, no,” he says quickly. “It’s not like that at all. I don’t think of humans as a lesser species. All species are equal as far as I’m concerned.” He sounds like he’s being truthful, but you don’t remove your hard expression, not able to accept his words when you really don’t know what else his issue could be. “I wasn’t refusing because I think I’m superior in anyway. Even back then, I knew you’re so smart; I had been hearing your name and praise for months before we even met and you had just started your PI career.”

Your posture unravels; expression softens to something surprised yet puzzled. “Then what was your issue?”

“You’re so fragile,” he points out, sounding almost pained to say the words, like he hates them. “I know you can hold your own against humans, you have the awards to prove that, but supernatural beings? You’re so fragile against the majority of the assholes we have to hunt down and bring to justice that I was scared I’d have to watch you die on a job one day. I’m still scared of that, terrified really. If I don’t keep a close eye on you, then they could get to you so quickly that you won’t know until you’re heading to the afterlife.”

“Oh…” You’re not sure what to say in response. Part of you wants to argue and say that he doesn’t have to worry about that. It’s not his job to worry about you; you’re not even real partners despite how often you work together and call one another your partner during work hours. But the other part of you knows he’s right. You’re so delicate compared to supernatural beings and are constantly at risk just by dedicating your life to trying to protect innocents by bringing foul beings to justice where you can. It doesn’t help how sore Junhui sounds; how it truly sounds like the thought of watching you die hurts him deeply, especially if he should’ve been there to protect you.

“Yes, so, I don’t have anything against you at all. I…think you’re a wonderful person; so intelligent and caring that it’s easy to see why you’re one of the highest sought-after PIs in the city. All the humans ask for you; it’s why I get assigned so many human-related cases, because I work with you.”

“Oh…I didn’t realise,” you admit, feeling kind of stupid for not realising that the majority of the cases Junhui picks up to work are human related. You’re so used to working primarily for humans that you forget that humans are the minority, so Junhui should actually have a lot more cases relating to supernatural beings like himself.

“Mm.”

The pair of you are quiet for a few moments as everything shared between you settles, as you both realise that maybe, you’ve both been seeing your relationship in the wrong light from the start, all because of a lack of communication and jumping to conclusions that don’t even exist between you. It makes you wonder that if you’re wrong about Junhui disliking you from the start, maybe you’re wrong about him not wanting to be friends, wrong about the assumption that he’ll never see you as a potential romantic partner one day.

It’s a cruel kind of irony that the day that hope first flutters in your heart for the man potentially gaining feelings for you in the future, is also the day he’s about to rip that very heart from your chest through no choice of his own.

A series of bitten back, pained grunts breaks the contemplative quiet. Your attention turns entirely to the present, to Junhui trying his best to fight his very nature in an attempt to protect you for a little longer.

Suddenly, you find yourself unable to keep your feelings to yourself, sensing that any minute now, you’ll be trapped with an unwilling wolf, so this may be your only chance to be honest for the first time with your affection. “Junhui, I–” you start, only for a pained yell and the crack of bones to cut you off.

Instinctively, you back up a little, your human nature wanting to escape the horrifying sound of a body being forced to break and regrow into another form. It’s truly the worst sound you’ve ever heard, and you’ve heard a lot. But perhaps, it’s more painful and gut wrenching for you to hear because you know that it’s Junhui being forced through the ordeal; the man you were on the brink of confessing the contents of your heart to.

You’ve lost your chance now, and it only takes moments, not even a full minute, for you to lose the man you’ve grown so accustomed to over the past five years.

There’s an eerie couple seconds of silence once the transformation is over; you can’t even hear Junhui’s wolf form breathing, can’t hear him moving despite the fact you know he must be. You know from research and witness accounts— and even some personal accounts from the mouths of werewolves—, that they are always so restless as soon as the full moon shift has fully taken hold and they’re in wolfskin. You know that the harder the fight it, the harder it is for them to settle upon losing the battle. Junhui should be more than just a little restless right now, unable to stay still, especially when faced with the one person who has been pissing him off for the past five years.

Although you know that he could easily move without you knowing— and had assumed he’s been doing just that—, you hear the pad of paws ahead of you, right by the shutter where Junhui last spoke to you from. Your ears prickle hotly and then zero in on the sound, tracking the almost too heavy steps, the gentle clink of claws against tile, as he moves. You want to turn to your left to try and make sure that you remain face on to him; so that, at the very least, he doesn’t attack from behind because that is somehow much scarier. Yet you know you can’t, that even trying to meet a werewolf in wolfskin face on when they’re raring for a fight is a sign of challenge; it’s even worse if they’re on the hunt, and you know that Junhui is.

Slowly, the steps circle you, keeping a steady distance as the predator stalks his prey. As your heart races in your chest, fear pumping blood almost violently through your veins, you know that Junhui can hear it; and it’s only when you think about that, that you realise exactly what he’s doing. He’s scaring you on purpose. He’s letting you hear him so that you know he’s there; so that you know that at any second, he only needs to pounce, and he’ll be on top of you, teeth buried in your flesh and bathing in your blood sprayed extra enthusiastically by your racing heart.

You know that sometimes, wolves wear the blood of their prey during hunts as a trophy, as something to show off; to show other wolves how big and scary they are considered to their prey. It’s not at all a common practise for werewolves to do where humans are concerned, purely because it’s not morally acceptable— nor legal— for werewolves to hunt and kill humans anymore; but you know they still do it when they hunt animals out in the woodlands.

Right now, Junhui doesn’t see you as a human he’s supposed to protect, just a nuisance of a creature he wants to be rid of. Wearing your blood would be a coat of honour, at least until his sane, humane mind returns, then you know it’ll be something he’ll never wash off, not really.

Although you genuinely fear being attacked from behind more than any other direction, it’s when Junhui is behind you that you suddenly recall that he had earlier tried to tell you to pick up a pole to protect yourself with. You know you’ve moved a little now compared to when he said it was on your right and he’d guide you, but you also know that it truly might be your only chance to hold Junhui off long enough for him to remember who he is. Even with a pole for a weapon, you’re still likely to get hurt by the wolf, but you would rather have a few injuries than your throat torn out; there’s no coming back from that, after all.

You try to be subtle when you shift, getting ready to lunge to your right and hope you reach in the right direction, you barely even adjust your weight, but Junhui’s steps fall still and he lets out a low, warning growl. Now that he’s been broken from his pacing, you know you can’t wait, he’ll pounce any second and you’ll have lost your chance.

Without hesitation, you lean over, reaching your right arm out blindly, and hoping with your entire being that your fingers meet smooth metal to protect yourself with, not the jagged edges of more danger than you’re already in. But they don’t get the chance.

You’ve never really faced a werewolf before, you’ve only heard stories, watched videos both real and staged of werewolves in wolfskin on the attack. You know they are capable of moving so fast, of moving so quietly that a human has no hope of knowing until they have teeth and claws tearing into delicate flesh. Yet still, it all happens so much quieter, so much quicker than you could’ve ever prepared for, could’ve ever imagined in all your fear fuelled thoughts.

It’s only a silent instant, barely a blink, barely a breath, and then sharp teeth are around your forearm.

You freeze the second you feel the wolf on your right, his mouth open around your arm, hot breath against your skin, and the points of dangerous teeth resting against your goose bumped flesh.

For a second or two, you don’t dare to breathe, don’t dare to move. Wide eyes remain glued ahead unseeing, left fingers braced on the tiles to steady you, knees aching against the tiles, and forearm hovering in midair.

And the wolf doesn’t move. Doesn’t close his jaw, doesn’t bite, doesn’t do a fucking thing. As if he’s waiting.

It feels like you’re paused for far too long, fear so thick in your body that you can barely breathe, can barely hear anything over the thundering of your heart in your chest. Yet somehow, you hear it. A soft little noise, and you react without thought, looking towards it; right at the wolf before you can realise that even if you can’t see him, he can see you and know if your gaze meets his in unintended challenge.

Despite what it means, despite how Junhui should react and bite your arm clean off with one effortless snap of his jaws the second your face turns to him, he doesn’t. He lets out another little noise, almost akin to a gentle whine, before his jaw opens and releases you. You jolt in surprise when you feel him nudge you with his muzzle, prompting you to sit back down and back up slightly.

Utterly bewilderingly, you hear him shuffle around to where you had been reaching out, and he must move the items there as you hear the clatter and rolling, the crunch and rustling of metal, litter, and other objects. Honestly, you have no fucking idea what’s going on right now, and there’s a part of you that wants to ask— even knowing a wolf can’t talk to answer— but the fear still runs thick in your veins, and you can’t make yourself do anything but sit there in terrified wait.

When Junhui returns to your side, he makes noise the entire short journey; paws patting, claws clicking, and little almost chuffing type sounds from his throat. Something about it feels like he’s telling you he’s nearing, warning you of his impending closeness to not scare you.

You still can’t see anything, but you can feel it when he stands before you, you can feel the heat rolling off his furred body; you can feel his presence, the power emanating from him. Despite that, despite the clear masses of points he has over you, the winning hand he truly holds, he lowers himself by your feet and curls around you, whining softly in deference to you. You feel his nose nudge against your hand where it lays on your thigh; without thought, you lift it, and your breath catches when his head rests on your leg. He whines again, shuffling closer, wrapping you in his protection, and you suddenly realise the truth of what this is; Junhui is protecting you, even when he should be ripping your throat out for all the grief you’ve given him over the years.

Somehow, he’s fought his very nature to do the very thing he’s always been scared he’ll never be able to do; he’s keeping you safe.

“Oh,” you murmur, exhaling, and just like that, the fear starts to seep out, your heart starts to calm.

Carefully, you lower your still raised hand to his head and lightly run your fingers through his thick, slightly coarse fur. The noise he lets out sounds pleased, so you relax into it, grow more confident, and stroke your hand over his head and back as far as you can reach; drag your fingers through his fur and scratch at his skin in patches. He seems to really like it when you rub the pads of your fingers deeply through the fur at the back of his neck, letting out heavy, happy huffs every time, so you make sure to give extra focus there.

Honestly, even if you had the ability to keep an eye on the time right now, you would still lose track. There’s something incredibly hypnotic and soothing about petting a giant wolf, especially one who seems to want to meld with your body, routinely shuffling and curling closer to you even when he physically can’t get any closer.

Even though you don’t know how long it’s been, you’re certain it’s been some time; more than long enough for your pulse and breathing to return to a calm, steady state, and for Junhui to doze off under your tender touch. You’re so content that you jump and your heart skips a few beats when Junhui lifts suddenly, standing up, and growls low and warningly in the direction of the shutter. It takes a second for your logic to beat the fear down and let you understand that the werewolf’s finely tuned senses have picked up something your own weak-in-comparison ones can’t.

Though after a few more moments, you can hear footsteps on the other side of the shutter seconds before a voice calls out. “Junhui?!” Almost instantly, the wolf growls louder in warning, and the man curses worriedly before he calls your name. “Are you okay?! We’re going to get you out!”

“I’m fine!” you reply. “Seriously, he hasn’t hurt me!”

“Really?” his tone turns surprised now, concern abruptly gone in his disbelief.

“Yeah! He’s been calm until he heard you.” Junhui lets out another warning sound, this time to you as you get up. “Shut up,” you retort quietly, and have to bite back a snort of laughter when he immediately whines and moves over to repeatedly circle you close enough that his flank doesn’t stop touching your legs. “Stop it, you’ll trip me up,” you warn. He whines again but does as told and backs off a little, though you feel him move to stand at your side so close that although you can’t feel him, you’re pretty sure his fur is brushing your clothing over your right thigh.

“Are you near the shutter?” the man on the other side calls a minute later, after you’ve heard him conversing with someone else, maybe multiple others. It’s only now that you fully recognise his voice, he must be closer to the shutter. It’s Detective Lee Seokmin, one of Junhui’s colleagues. You know the pair are friends, pretty good friends too, and you’d even go as far as to say that Seokmin could be considered a friend of yours even; he’s invited you to every party and gathering he’s hosted over the past few years, so you think that says a lot. Then again, Seokmin is a siren, and they’re pretty friendly folk with endless friends and contacts. Even without using their siren song to influence another’s feelings and actions, sirens just seem to gain the favour of pretty much anyone no matter where they go.

“No, we’re further back,” you answer, absently petting at Junhui’s back to stop him making any more low, growling warnings towards his friend. It bewilders you a little that Junhui is growling at Seokmin like this, but you don’t want to try and decode that right now and instead plan to simply ask Junhui about it tomorrow when he’s human again and able to communicate in words, not whines and growls.

“Alright, stay there, we’re going to cut the locks now. It’s going to be loud for Jun, so cover his ears for him if he’ll let you,” Seokmin warns.

“Okay!” Without hesitation, you move to kneel down beside Jun and hold his head so that you can cover his ears carefully. He whines and gently tries to shake you off. All you do is tut your tongue against the roof of your mouth disapprovingly, and he acquiesces, whimpering softly in scold as he shrinks a little in place before falling still.

It takes a couple of minutes of the grinding of metal as it’s cut, sparks jumping into view in the little dent Junhui made in the shutter earlier before the tool is turned off. As soon as the shutter starts rattling up, Junhui pulls his head from your hold so that he can face the entrance of the slowly lightening store, and take up growling all over again, this time louder and clearer in his warnings as the “threat” is revealed.

“Stop it,” you scold softly, tapping his side once. Junhui listens, for the most part at least. The growling grows quiet enough that you have to almost strain your ears to hear it, and he moves to stand directly in front of where you still kneel.

“Hi,” Seokmin greets, popping his head under the shutter as it’s slowly rolled up. You can just about see the lower halves of a few officers dressed in protective gear either side of the shutter, their gloved hands lifting it a little at a time. Even Seokmin looks like he’s wearing protective gear from what you can see of his body where it’s oddly contorted so that he can look under the shutter.

“Full moon crew?” you ask, realising that you recognise the specialised gear from training videos you’ve watched of other supernatural species restraining werewolves on the full moon.

“Yeah,” Seokmin confirms, moving to crouch carefully, eyes darting between Junhui’s form and your head barely in view above the wolf’s back. “We only realised what the day is when we realised it’s been a while since he checked in, longer than normal, and obviously, he didn’t answer the radio in his car. Honestly, we thought that we were going to find a very different scenario once we found you two.”

“You’re not the only one,” you reply with a soft laugh.

“You’re really okay? He didn’t get you before getting his mind back, did he?”

“No, didn’t even try to.”

Seokmin makes a surprised sound that quickly turns considering. “Strange. Oh well, better not to question it, just be glad we don’t have to call the cleaners in.”

“Trust me, I’m very glad of that.”

Seokmin grins, chuckling lightly, before he focuses his attention solely on Jun. “If we finish opening the shutter, you’re not going to jump any of us, are you?” Junhui growls, though cuts off when you make that disapproving tut again, entirely without thought and just wanting him to behave. “Wow, only a couple hours with him and you’ve trained him already! Are you sure you don’t have some kind of magic in you?” the siren jokes while making a motion behind him before he raises up to stand as the shutter is lifted the rest of the way, revealing even more of the FMRT— Full Moon Response Team— behind him, holding various tools and non-deadly weapons designed to subdue a werewolf. Though you know that there will be at least one deadly weapon amongst the bunch, but they’re not authorised to even pull those out unless the situation is dire.

“Very positive,” you muse, raising to your feet. Junhui adjusts, standing even taller now; you hadn’t even realised he wasn’t at his full height but lowered a little to not be so tall against your kneeled form.

“Well, come on then, let’s get you both home.”

When Seokmin had said “home”, you’re sure you all assumed that to mean your separate homes, as in you’d get in your car and drive yourself home, and Junhui would get in the transportation van and be driven to his own home. Yet, when you had walked to your car, Junhui stuck to your side and continued to glare and growl at anyone who dared to get within a few metres of the two of you. Even when you tried to walk the wolf to the van and encourage him into it, he refused. So, you relented, opened the back door of your car to let him claim the backseats, then got in the front.

Ideally, you would’ve driven Junhui home yourself, but despite having known the man for five years, you don’t know his address, only the neighbourhood; and when you drove around it, Junhui didn’t give any indication of where you should go to get him home. You knew you couldn’t leave him out wandering in public either, no supernatural being is allowed to be in anything but their human form in public places— unless specially designed for it—, so you only had one option.

Now, you’re sitting on your sofa trying not to give in to Junhui’s literal puppy-dog eyes and cute, pleading whining as he gently paws at your thigh with one paw, the other placed on the sofa you’re refusing to let him get on.

“No, Junhui, you’re bigger than the entire seat!” you exclaim, nudging him back down when he not-so-subtly tries to edge up onto the cushion by your side. He whines even more pitifully, lowers his head, and looks up at you from the top of his eyes, making them even bigger, and paws your thigh some more. The little shit knows just how to push your buttons too, it seems; at least in the way of being cute and getting his way. “Asshole,” you huff, and get up to motion to the sofa. “Go on then!”

Junhui yips happily and bounces once before he clambers up onto the sofa. While he’s excitedly getting settled, you move to sit in the armchair and turn the TV on to pass time until the sun rises and Junhui can shift back into humanskin. A soft bark makes you look at him, and somehow the wolf sitting upright on your sofa looks utterly, devastatingly betrayed.

“What?” you question, pointing to the TV. “Is it too loud?” Junhui huffs and then paws at the space on the sofa you previously occupied. “What? Are you seriously expecting me to stay there when you take up the whole length?” He whines and starts to tilt his head down to give you another one of those almost heart-wrenchingly adorable expressions. “Fine!” you give in before he can even start, knowing you won’t survive another round of boss level puppy-dog eyes. Junhui barks excitedly as you get up. “Shush! It’s 2am, my neighbours are sleeping.”

Suddenly a little sheepish, Junhui shrinks slightly, somehow looking apologetic as you plop back down in your previous seat on the sofa. He lets out a quiet version of his happy bark that makes you laugh, and then he’s dropping down onto his belly, propping his chin on your thighs, and peering up at you; looking nothing but adorably happy and content as your left hand naturally starts to pet him while the right flicks though options on the TV remote to find something to watch.

Although you settle on something you assume Junhui would be interested in— based on TV shows you’ve heard him comment on positively over the years—, he doesn’t really look at the screen. His eyes mostly remain focused on you as his tail sways just out of your view where it hangs off the edge of the sofa. You’re entirely absorbed in the show; gasping, laughing, and commenting in all the right places that he is far too content watching you to dare look away even for a moment.

The next time you turn back into the world instead of the historical drama that has well and truly stolen your attention, it’s been hours. Long enough, in fact, that you can see the sun peeking around the edge of the curtains pulled over the living room windows.

Yet still, there’s a wolf using your lap as his own personal pillow; a fully awake wolf who should be a human already.

You peer down at him questioningly after pausing your show, and he lets out a soft little whimper, shuffling a little closer and nuzzling into your stomach as if he’s trying to hide from your scrutinising gaze. “Why haven’t you shifted back?” you ask. He whines, and you sigh. “I don’t understand you like this; shift back and talk, Junhui.”

Though instead of doing that, he gets up and scuttles to the front door as if he’s planning to escape. But two things entirely fuck up his plan. The first being obvious; he doesn’t have opposable thumbs in this form, so he can’t work any of the locks you have on the door. And the second also being equally as obvious and related to the first; he’s literally a giant wolf and would get arrested if he went out in public like this.

There’s a moment where you can see Junhui mentally war with himself as he slumps down, the top of his head pressing against the door as he debates what to do, then he slumps further in resignation.

Although the transformation into wolfskin had been loud, had sounded beyond painful, the shift back into humanskin is silent, effortless. You can’t tell if it was because it was a forced shift that it was so horrendous, or because Junhui had fought against it so much.

Honestly, for a second, you had forgotten that Junhui’s clothes are obviously not on the man now; they’re in tatters on dirty tile flooring still, only the items from his pockets didn’t get destroyed and are in a clear evidence bag on the side table beside the front door for Junhui to take home with him when he goes. Admittedly, for a couple of seconds you can’t do anything but dumbly stare at the long expanse of naked back, of perky ass, broad shoulders, and tiny waist. The man truly is beautiful, and you can’t be blamed for being struck dumb by the sight.

“Can I please have a blanket?” his quiet, shy voice brings you back to life, and you scramble off the sofa so quickly that you almost fall. Luckily, he’s not looking, so he doesn’t know the fool you just made of yourself, and you can cool the embarrassed flush on your cheeks before you near him with a large, soft, and freshly washed, blanket in your hold. You drape it around his shoulders while being very considerate to not even accidentally get a view of the front of his nude form. “Thank you.”

“I’ll get you something to wear, I should have at least some shorts,” you say, already rushing off to your bedroom to give him some space and privacy to get up. Once in your room, you take a moment to gather your mental strength and push aside the image of Junhui’s ass imprinted on your mind before you rummage through your clothes to find something to cover the man’s nudity.

As you thought, you do have a pair of men’s shorts that should fit him, bought for yourself a while back due to how lightweight and comfy they felt on the hanger in store, and regularly worn in warmer weather. You’re not convinced any of your t-shirts will fit his broad shoulders really. You honestly don’t even know how he finds anything in stores to fit his physique without looking ridiculous— because he always looks impeccably dressed. Still, you grab one you think might be okay and quickly return to him.

Junhui is standing in the kitchen, one arm stuck out of the blanket cloak he’s wearing as he swallows down a glass of water quicker than you thought possible. “Sorry,” he pants when he lowers the glass, drops trailing down his chin and long throat from his rushed drinking and inability to wipe the errant drops away with only one arm available— unless he wants to let go of the blanket and be left standing butt naked in your kitchen for the sake of drying his chin.

“What for?” you ask bewilderedly while putting the clothes on the counter ready for him to take when he’s ready.

“Not asking first.” He lifts his empty glass in explanation.

“Oh, I don’t care.” You wave a dismissive hand. “You can always help yourself to water here, and honestly, most other things in the kitchen. I’m always happy to feed guests.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a guest; you didn’t want me here, I invited myself,” he points out, looking away from you in embarrassment. He finally puts down the glass and uses his now free hand to wipe the water from his skin. “So, sorry about that too.”

“Don’t be.” He lifts his head to look at you with a disbelieving, slightly questioning expression. “You have no choice but to answer my questions now,” you reason, smiling at him in a too sweet way that makes him sigh and look away from you again. It takes a second of him staring at the glass on the counter in front of him as he turns it slowly, before he nods in reluctant agreement. “Why didn’t you attack me? You didn’t seem to lose yourself at all, but before the shift you acted like you would. Why?”

“Because I thought I would.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t, not really.”

“So you did a bit?”

He lets out a breath, a little shaky at the edges, and nods. “Yes. I…I wasn’t entirely there at first, but I just…knew you, even in that state. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you of all people.”

“What? Why me?” He doesn’t answer. “Jun, please?”

Junhui adjusts the blanket, tucking his arm back under it and pulling the edges closer, almost as if he’s shielding himself. You can only watch with a frown, heart aching a little for how he clearly feels like he needs protecting right now. Even in humanskin, the man could tear you apart before you realise what’s happening; there’s no way you could physically hurt him.

And then you realise, only a second before he speaks, that it’s not his body that he’s trying to protect, but his heart.

“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Since the day we met, I looked at you and I knew you’ll be the one I need more than anything, more than food, more than water. You’re my heart; without you, I can’t live.”

“Jun…”

“I–I know, you don’t need to say it,” he insists, stepping away a little jerkily as you move closer, as if his body isn’t quite reacting how it should, as if his mind isn’t in one piece enough to direct his limbs to move smoothly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. “Humans don’t have this; you don’t have connections in this way. I know you have the idea of other halves, soulmates, but it’s different. Humans give away pieces of their heart over time, yet never the whole thing; but werewolves, we give it over that first instant. I know you don’t want it, and I’m not going to even try to get you to accept it, but it’s yours all the same. Even when you find someone else to share your heart with; mine is entirely yours.”

It’s far more than you ever thought you’d hear from the man, far more than you’d ever hoped he say, that he’d feel. Your hope only stretched as far as a crush, maybe the generic form of love, but never this. Never in your life could you have imagined a werewolf to have you for a heartmate; for you to be the one person they are made to love. You know that many werewolves— the majority even— never meet their heartmate, and quite a few spend their whole lives looking.

Junhui’s right in that in some sense, it’s akin to the very human concept of soulmates, except soulmates aren’t real; there isn’t another human out there made to complete you, the other half of a whole. Whereas heartmates are very real— if rare—, and they aren’t the other half of anything. No werewolf is incomplete without a heartmate, and they’re certainly not made for one another, but they are connected from the first moment they meet until their last moment on this earth.

When one of the pair of a heartmate dies, the other does too; as once the bond is formed, a werewolf can’t live without their heartmate. Which means, that if something happens to you, should you die, Junhui would shortly follow. However, as you’re human, you don’t feel the bond and could live on if something happens to Junhui.

It makes sense why Junhui is so intent on protecting you now, now that you know that he literally can’t live without you. Though that’s cheapening the bond entirely to say. Junhui doesn’t want you alive for his own sake, so that he gets to keep living too; Junhui wants you alive because he’s in love with you.

If you weren’t so caught up in the moment, in your racing heart and Junhui’s form curled in on himself where he’s backed up in the corner while you approach, you’d think the little whimper he lets out when you cup his face is so close to the noises he make in wolfskin that it’d make you giggle. As is it though, you barely notice, and instead focus on gently turning his face so that he has to look at you. He starts to close his eyes, but something on your face must surprise him, as he flutters his eyes open, eyebrows lifting slightly, and lips parting.

“Before the shift took you, I thought you were going to rip my heart out.” He whines, shrinking further at the thought; at the reminder that you were scared for your safety because of him. “And I wanted to take what I thought would be my last and only chance to tell you where it is.” Abruptly, his unhappy sounds cut off, and his head tilts slightly, adorably confused. You smile gently and lift one hand from his face to place it on his chest and tap over where you can feel his heart racing and thudding against his ribs to reach out to you. “Right here, Junhui, my heart is right here.”

“I…what?” he whispers, adjusting his position so that he’s not curled to the side, but facing you; straightening a little but never removing his face from your adoring touch, or chest from your reach. One of his hands wraps around your wrist to keep your palm against his torso, even with the blanket still wrapped entirely around him and creating a soft barrier between your skin. “With me?” You nod. “Your heart is with me?”

“Yes,” you confirm, laughing slightly. “When you got shot, I almost lost my mind; I was so scared I’d lose you.”

“But you…you’ve always…”

“Been an asshole?” He nods firmly, then turns a little sheepish when he realises what he’s just agreed to, and a tiny, adorably apologetic smile tilts his lips up. You giggle. “I have. It was in retaliation at first; I really did think you hated me from the start, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me, Jun, but I don’t take that kind of shit laying down.”

“I’ve definitely noticed,” he confirms with a soft, huffed laugh. “You always stand up to anyone who even tries to treat you like shit; you’ve earned a lot of respect because of it.”

“And some enemies too.”

“Yeah, and those. But I’ll never let them hurt you; I’ll always protect you, you know that, right?” he checks, looking and sounding so utterly earnest.

“I know that now,” you assure, and he relaxes a little. When you brush your thumb over his cheek, he lets out a content little sigh and tilts into your touch. “I want to be with you, Wen Junhui,” you inform quietly, and hear his breath catch, watch his eyes widen slightly. “But I don’t know if we should.”

“What?” His expression tugs down as he frowns at you while he straightens up. “If you’re worried it will ruin our working relationship, you’re wrong. I’ve been in love with you from the start, I know how to act during work.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s that you’re a werewolf, and I’m a human.”

“And? I didn’t think you care about that kind of thing. You said I have your heart, doesn’t that mean you love me?”

“It does. And I don’t care about cross species relationships at all. What I mean is that I won’t live to a hundred years, but you will live a lot longer.”

“No, I’ll–”

“Die when I do,” you finish, and he nods. “I’ll spend the entire time scared of that.”

“Whether we’re together or not, I’ll die when you do. At least this way, I can love you the way you deserve, not from a distance,” he reasons. In an act that makes you choke on air, he lets go of the blanket protecting his modesty so that he can cup your face with both of his large hands, slender fingers curling to hold you securely, yet still so gentle; not like you’ll break, but like you deserve to be held tenderly. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, my heartmate.”

“I…Fuck,” you let all tension out at once and tilt up towards him. Junhui doesn’t hesitate to lean in to meet your lips with eager affection, both melting into one another in the way you never thought would happen, but now that it has, you know nothing has ever felt so right.

A few moments later, when the kiss breaks, Junhui rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you, for letting me love you.”

“Thank you for loving me. I know it’s not your choice, but I’m grateful all the same.”

“Not as grateful as me; you let yourself fall for me. That’s…” he lets out a breath that sounds overwhelmed in the best of ways before his lips curl up as he lifts enough that you can look at one another comfortably. “I love you, and I’m so happy that I can spend the rest of our lives showing you that.”

“I…Do…do you think that maybe…you can turn me?” you suggest, and his eyes widen in genuine shock. “So that you can be my heartmate too and we can live a long life together, and you don’t have to watch me grow old while you age at a fraction of the speed?”

“You’d really do that? Become a werewolf for me?”

“I would,” you confirm, confident and without hesitation. “I want to love you for a long time, Junhui.”

“Fuck.” He pulls you in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper, more intense as he spills out all his overwhelmed joy and passion against your lips. He only stops a little after he’s lifted you up onto the counter to stand between your thighs and make it easier to hold you close to his chest as his tongue does things that makes you very excited to spend the rest of your life experiencing again, and again.

“Well then,” you exhale, chest heaving when he pulls back, allowing your human lungs to try to catch some air. He’s breathing heavily too, but you know he has naturally better stamina than you and can hold his breath for longer— as revealed a few months into working together when you discovered that his car’s breaks had been cut when, no matter how hard he stomped on the pedal, he couldn’t stop the vehicle careening into the dock in the middle of the night, and you had surfaced almost two minutes before him, barely conscious with your lungs burning.

“We can have pups,” he blurts, making you choke on absolutely nothing. “Shit, sorry, sorry, I just…If–if we had a baby when you’re human, they would be human too because you can’t shift to birth them as a wolf, so they won’t be born a wolf, meaning they’ll never shift and—”

“Sweet boy,” you coo, cupping his face, and then press a quick peck on the tip of his nose that makes him briefly go a little cross eyed. “It’s very cute that you’re thinking about putting a baby in me already–” He whines shyly and tucks his head down to hide his blushing face in your palms, making you giggle. “But let’s take it one step at a time, okay? I’m not against it exactly, but not any time soon. First, let’s focus on us, and our careers. When we’re both ready to find less dangerous work, we can circle back to pup talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding as he peers at you from over the edge of your hands, eyes adorably big and beautiful. “You need to be turned first too, and that’ll make work safer–” He suddenly gasps and straightens up, looking excited. “You can become a cop once you’re a werewolf!”

“Oh, yeah, I could. I didn’t even consider that.”

“No? I thought you would’ve. You’ve always said you would’ve if you legally could.”

“Mm, I know, and I would’ve. But I kind of really like being my own boss and not having to go the routes you guys do. Also, I’d have to start from the bottom and work my way up, and that would mean years before there’s even a chance of us working together again. They’d probably give you a partner in that time and then not reassign you once I’m qualified; probably wouldn’t let spouses work together. Jihoon isn’t allowed to work with his wife; they both have told me that.”

“That’s mostly because they distract each other and have been caught making out all over the precinct,” Junhui clarifies, making you snicker, easily able to imagine Jihoon and his wife being unable to keep their hands off each other even during working hours; they’re truly obsessed with one another in a mostly cute— and a little gross— way. “But also, can we circle around to you calling us spouses and then relating to a married couple, and that…are you planning to marry me?”

“Definitely,” you confirm with a nod, and he squeaks, lifting his hands to his own cheeks to try and hide his goofy grin. “After a year of being a couple, we can start thinking about marriage properly; once we’ve discovered how we work as a couple.”

“Mm, yep, yep, we can do that,” he agrees, head bobbling in a way that makes you giggle, though you cut off when you reach out to wrap your arms around his waist and are reminded that he is very much completely fucking naked.

“Oh.” You stare at his chest, drag your gaze down his chiselled torso, and then pout when your view is blocked by the edge of the counter by his hips. Damn your apartment for having such high counters. “You’re very naked,” you comment.

“Oh!” He lets out an alarmed noise then reaches out one handed to grab the shorts from the pile, the other hand lifting to cover your eyes.

“I’m going to see it sooner or later,” you reason, though don’t really argue, and even close your eyes and turn away from him.

“I know, I know, I just want it to be intended, and at least after our first date,” he says as he works on quickly pulling on the shorts, then the t-shirt, before returning to you. “And with that in mind, let me take you out to dinner tonight,” he requests, turning you to face him again, so you open your eyes to look at him; the t-shirt is definitely pulling tight over his shoulders, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable and you’re certainly not complaining— even if it’s going to ruin the shape of the t-shirt.

“Or, you can cook for me. Everyone praises your cooking, and I think it’s time you finally let me try it,” you suggest.

Junhui smiles and nods. “I’d love to cook for you.”

“Great, that means we can spend all day here!” you enthuse and clap a few times happily. “I want to watch more of that show and cuddle the fuck out of you on the sofa until we fall asleep.”

“Okay, my heartmate, whatever you want,” he agrees with a chuckle before pressing one more kiss to your lips, and then playfully sweeps you off the counter to carry to the sofa and drop down together. The pair of you shuffle around until you’re comfortably tucked up against one another ready to spend the rest of the day together doing nothing but watching TV and relaxing.

You know that every day isn’t going to be like this, especially as tomorrow, you’ll both have to go back to work, and you truly never know what dangers your jobs will bring. And you know that even though you’re Junhui’s heartmate, and that you love him as much as a human can love another, it won’t all be smooth sailing. There will be fights; there will be days where you can’t stand being near each other and will wonder if you will be able to move past that feeling.

But you know in your heart that the good will outweigh the bad, and that when you you’re both old and looking back on your long life together, you’ll see a life full of love, and a life well spent.

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When you walked into Jiwoo’s apartment, you heard far more banging and swearing than you expected. At first, you wondered if her roommate, Sooyoung, was working on another “D.I.Y. project,” but when you heard a sweet, familiar voice angrily yell, “Fuck!” you knew that it was Jiwoo. So, you slowly and carefully walked through her living room, looking for the source of the sound to determine if anyone was injured or otherwise in distress.

“Honey, do you need help?” you called as you walked through the kitchen toward Jiwoo’s bedroom.

“I’m fine, babe!” Jiwoo shouted back. “Just trying to get this fucking thing to stay put!” You heard more banging as she spoke, and you wondered what the hell was happening.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you entered her room.

“Oh, this!” she said, frantically turning around to show you the dresser that she’d just finished assembling.

It was small, barely fitting next to the one she already had, and it looked like it might fall apart if you touched it the wrong way, but you knew she’d put a lot of effort into putting it together. So, you smiled and said, “I’m so proud of you, my love. But, why?”

She looked shy as she answered, “You know how you’ve been spending the night here more?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought having a dresser to store your stuff in would make it easier,” she answered, fidgeting and blushing as she tried to explain. “Instead of bringing stuff with you every time like you have been, you could just keep some of your clothes here. I even got you a new toothbrush to keep with mine.”

You didn’t say anything for a minute, stunned that she took the time out of her already chaotic schedule to do something like assembling furniture just to make it easier for the two of you to spend time together. When you noticed that she looked worried, though, you smiled and said, “Thank you. It was a wonderful idea.”

“Are you upset?” she asked, clearly still nervous.

“Not at all. Just surprised, honestly. You assembled a dresser by yourself for me?”

“Well, I asked Sooyoung for help, but she had to work. And of course I did it for you. I love you.”

Without another word, you pulled her into a hug, struggling to comprehend exactly how you found someone like Jiwoo, who was always willing to go above and beyond if it meant making you happy or just making life even a little bit easier. As you held her close, you silently hoped that the two of you would spend the rest of your lives loving each other.

You didn’t know how much time had passed with the two of you silently holding each other close, but next thing you knew, you heard Sooyoung yell, “I’m home, Ji! Did you get that dresser put together?”

Jiwoo stepped away to yell back, “Yep! It was a pain in the ass but I did it!”

“That's great!” Sooyoung said as she passed by Jiwoo’s room to get to hers. “I’m going to Jinsol’s place for a girls’ night, so I'm not gonna be back until tomorrow. I'm just stopping by to grab the overnight bag I keep in my room.”

“Ok, have fun!” you and Jiwoo said at the same time.

After Sooyoung left, Jiwoo asked, “Do you wanna go get some of your clothes to keep here?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

With that, the two of you left to go back to your apartment. The drive was unusually quiet, with you focused on driving and Jiwoo keeping her eyes closed as she enjoyed the silence. It was common for Jiwoo to just rest whenever the two of you were in the car together, and you loved being able to give her a few moments of peace within the chaos of life.

When you got to your apartment, the two of you worked together to gather some of your clothes, as well as a few skincare products and a bottle of your favorite body wash to keep at Jiwoo and Sooyoung’s place. Once you finished packing everything, you drove back.

Once your stuff was inside, you worked together to fill the new dresser while Jiwoo showed you her newly expanded vinyl collection. As you decided where you wanted to put the clothes that you’d brought with you, she showed you each album and told you a little bit about it, like when it was released and fun facts about the songs.

“This one came out in 2019!” she said, her eyes sparkling as she showed you Miracle Pill by the Goo Goo Dolls. “I still can’t believe I managed to find it at a thrift store of all places.”

“I remember when you sent me some of the songs right after we started dating,” you said as you folded a pair of pants to put them in the dresser.

As you listened to Jiwoo talk about her favorite songs and all of the reasons they were significant to her, you thought about how much you loved it when she shared the things she loved with you. Every time she showed you another piece of her world, you fell just a little harder, and all you wanted as you put the last of your things away was to continue falling for her every day for the rest of your life.

After your things were put away, you pulled Jiwoo into a hug and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing this for me. For everything you do for me.”

“You know I do it because I love you, right?”

“I know. That’s exactly why it means so much to me.”

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There were very few things that you hated more than attending charity auctions with your husband. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and you completely understood that it was important to him to give back to your community, but you hated the way he treated you when the two of you were out together. Instead of being treated like his wife, you were treated more like an ornament. A trophy for your husband to show that he’d “made it” and had the life he’d always wanted. As much as you hated it though, you went anyway, because you knew how important his image was to him. And being a loving husband was an important part of his image, no matter how inaccurate that image was to the reality of your relationship with him after ten years together.

As the night went on, you got increasingly bored. No one at the event would have known it, though, especially not your husband. After all, Yoongi was too busy talking to Miyeon, his secretary and your best friend, to pay attention to you. You’d been suspicious of the relationship between Yoongi and Miyeon for a long time, but every time you brought up your concerns to either one of them, you were told how much they both cared about you and that they would never do that to you. You weren’t entirely sure that you believed them, but you really tried to for your own sake.

Not wanting to sit at the table and be ignored by your husband anymore, you decided to head to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. After your appearance was adjusted to your satisfaction, you stayed where you were a few extra minutes, just taking a few deep breaths and enjoying the small moment of peace. Feeling refreshed by your time away from the crowd that was sitting outside and pretending to care about charity, you decided to go back to your table.

You were still walking back when you noticed someone that was standing nearby. He was gorgeous, and when your eyes met, he smiled like the two of you were old friends, despite the fact that you’d never seen him before. You knew it was wrong to look at anyone other than your husband the way that you were now looking at the stranger, but you couldn’t help yourself. You briefly considered approaching him so that you could introduce yourself, but before you could, he approached you and said, “Hi, gorgeous. My name’s Junhui. What’s yours?”

That was when you realized who you were speaking to. This was the man that was running against Yoongi for the position of district attorney in the upcoming election. The man that Yoongi took any and every opportunity that presented itself to rant about, telling you exactly why you were never to speak to him.

But one little conversation couldn’t hurt, right?

With a smile, you introduced yourself and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“So, are you here with anyone?” Junhui asked, acting more like he was at a club than a charity auction.

“Yes, actually. I’m here with my husband.”

“Oh, really? Then why are you all alone?”

“He’s back at our table,” you answered as you pointed to where Yoongi sat with Miyeon. “Actually, I should probably go sit back down with him,” you added, hoping your voice didn’t give away just how nervous you were to be talking to such a gorgeous man.

“What’s your rush, sweetheart?”

“I just don’t want him to worry.”

“He looks fine to me,” Junhui said, staring past you and looking like he wanted to punch someone.

You turned away from Junhui to see what he was staring at, and that was when you saw the way that Yoongi was looking at Miyeon, holding her hand and staring into her eyes the way that he used to look into yours. That was when you decided that you weren’t really in a hurry to get back to him and said, “I guess a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.”

You talked to Junhui for a while after that, and you had to admit that you liked the way he made you feel as you spoke. He asked questions about the things that you said that showed that he was paying attention, something that Yoongi never did anymore, and he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, something that no one had ever done before. You knew it was wrong, but you would have been lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a little bit attracted to Junhui.

When you finally got back to your table, you noticed that your friend was nowhere in sight. So, as you took your seat next to your husband, you asked, “Where did Miyeon go?”

“She left to go talk to someone. Listen, I need to go take care of a few things after the auction ends. Do you think you can get an Uber home tonight?”

“Of course, honey,” you answered, used to him leaving you as soon as he didn’t need to look good anymore. “Do you know when you’ll be home?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry, sweetheart.”

“That’s ok. Just be safe tonight. I love you.”

Your husband was too distracted by Miyeon’s abrupt return to your table to even notice that you’d said something to him. Not wanting to be the third wheel in your own relationship anymore that night, you decided that you were ready to leave. So, you got up and walked toward the exit, intending to call an Uber once you were outside. Before you got to the door, though, you bumped into Junhui again.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he said. “Where are you off to?”

“Just heading home for the night. I’m a bit tired,” you answered, hoping that you could successfully hide the complex emotions swirling around your mind.

“Without your husband?” he asked, feigning surprise. “Scandalous!”

“He just wanted to stay and enjoy the auction.”

“The auction, sure,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he noticed Yoongi laughing with Miyeon at your table. Turning his attention back to you, he added, “Before you go, take this,” and handed you a small slip of paper.

“What is it?”

“My number.”

“Oh, I can’t take this. I-”

“Relax, sweetheart. I just wanna be friends.”

You knew that he was full of shit, but you still smiled and said, “Ok.” There was a moment of silence before you added, “I really should go now. I’ll text you when I get home?”

“Works for me. It was nice meeting you, by the way.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too,” you said, making your way toward the exit. Once you were outside, you got an Uber to take you home, and for the entire ride, you thought about the man that you’d met at the auction. You knew who Junhui was, since your husband had spoken about him to you at length, but you’d never gotten the chance to speak to him directly, or even seen his face for that matter, before the charity auction. Now that you had actually met him, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was as bad as Yoongi said he was.

Was this really the same man that Yoongi had spent weeks ranting about? The man that Yoongi believed would make the seat of district attorney look like a joke if he was elected? The man known for his “shady tactics and shadier associations, who has absolutely no business in public office,” according to your husband? You couldn’t really believe it, if you were being honest. If the things that Yoongi had said about Junhui were true, though, that meant he was definitely bad news.

And yet, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

When you finally got home, you took your time with your nighttime routine, letting the process of getting ready for bed ground you after a stressful day. Once your nighttime routine was done, you pulled the crumpled slip of paper that Junhui had given you out of your purse and texted the number that was written on it.

You: Hi, it’s me. It was really nice meeting you tonight. Junhui: It was nice to meet you too, gorgeous. I’d love to see you again sometime. You: What happened to just wanting to be friends? Junhui: Hey, I am being friendly. You: You’re being flirty. There’s a difference. Junhui: It doesn’t seem like you mind, though. Am I wrong?

Needless to say, he was completely right. You knew that you were in the wrong, but you loved how attentive and sweet Junhui was compared to Yoongi. Still, you knew better than to actually act on the attraction to your husband’s rival that was beginning to settle in your chest. So, you gently reminded Junhui that you were married, and he agreed to behave. Whether he would hold up his end of the agreement, however, was yet to be seen.

About a week after the charity auction, you got a very unpleasant surprise. You woke up to a loud knock on your door, and when you answered, Miyeon stood in front of you. You figured that something was wrong when you saw the look of pure rage on her face, far different from her typical upbeat demeanor, but you had no idea what had happened. You opened your mouth to ask her what was wrong, but before you could get the words out, she asked, “Where the fuck is Yoongi?”

“He’s not home right now. He-”

“Bullshit. He told me that he was spending the day with you. Where is he?”

“He’s not home!” you yelled. “He told me that he was going to be working all day. What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant with his baby, that’s what’s fucking going on.

You stood there in shock for what felt like hours before you asked, “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I’m pregnant, and Yoongi is the baby’s father. After I told him, he fucking ditched me. I want some answers.”

“Well, you’re not gonna get them here. Like I said, he isn’t home.”

“Fine. I’ll come back later then.”

“No, you fucking won’t. Not while I’m here, at least.”

With a huff and a stomp of her foot, Miyeon left your house. Once she was firmly out of your line of sight, you slammed your door shut, fell to the ground, and sobbed.

You honestly had no idea how to process the fact that your husband really was cheating on you, and with your best friend no less. “Rage” and “devastation” barely even began to describe the emotions swirling around your brain like a tornado of suffering, and all you could think about was how hurt you were and how badly you wanted to hurt them in return.

Maybe that’s where the idea to call Junhui came from.

Once you finally felt like you could breathe again, you pulled your phone out and dialed Junhui’s number. When he answered, you got right to the point, asking, “Are you busy today?”

“Nope. Free all day. Why do you ask?”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure. Why?”

“I think you know why.”

“I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” he asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

“I’m pissed off and wanna fuck.”

Junhui feigned surprise as he said, “Such vulgar language from such a classy lady. Especially one that loves her dear husband so much. What brought this on?”

“My best friend just showed up at my door and told me that she’s pregnant with Yoongi’s child.”

“Oh, so this is revenge.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason.”

“Oh really? Tell me what the other reason is then, sweetheart.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper when you responded, “Just want you.”

“Then why don’t I send someone to pick you up? How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” you answered, sounding much more confident

“What’s your address, sweetheart?” he asked. You gave it to him, and he said, “I’ll see you soon, darling,” before he ended the call.

While you waited to be picked up, you decided to change into something a bit more appropriate for what you were planning to do when you got to his place. After some careful consideration, you ended up choosing a short white dress that showed off just enough of your body to get him excited without being too inappropriate for you to wear out of the house. As for accessories, you kept it simple, wearing small white earrings. Once you put on your favorite shoes, you were ready to go.

A few minutes after you finished getting ready, you heard the sound of a car horn. So, you walked outside, and you saw a sleek black car in front of your house. When you approached the car, the driver rolled the window down and asked who you were. After you confirmed your identity, he said, “I’m Taehyun. Junhui sent me to pick you up. Are you ready?” You nodded in response and got in the car, nervous but excited for what you knew would happen when you got to Junhui’s house.

The ride to Junhui’s house was quiet, with neither you nor Taehyun quite knowing what to say to fill the silence. The awkward silence didn’t last long, though, since within minutes, you were pulling up to one of the most luxurious mansions you’d ever seen. You honestly wondered how the hell Junhui could afford it, since Yoongi had made it sound like he didn’t make much as an attorney, but you had a feeling that you didn’t want to know the answer.

You didn’t have much time to think about the matter, though, since before you knew it, you were dropped off in front of the door. As you got out of the car, you thanked Taehyun, and he drove away. With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you approached the door and rang the doorbell.

When Junhui answered the door, you smiled and said, “Hi.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Would you like to come in?” he asked. You nodded, and he took your hand before pulling you through the door. Once the door was shut and locked behind you, he smiled at you and asked, “Still looking for revenge?”

You didn’t answer him verbally, but you didn’t need to, considering your lips were on his the second he was done speaking. The kiss was short and sweet, and you did enjoy it, but you found yourself wanting more at the same time. So, when you pulled away, you asked, “Can we take this to your room?”

“Are you sure?” he asked in response. You nodded, and he said, “So eager for me. It’s cute. Come with me, darling.” You felt butterflies in your stomach when he called you “darling,” and he pulled you up a flight of stairs that you assumed led to his room.

When you got to Junhui’s room, he shut the door and pulled you close, kissing you softly. You stayed there for what felt like an eternity before you started to get impatient again and deepened the kiss, earning a soft groan from him as you tangled your hands in his hair. He pulled away with a smirk on his face and asked, “Getting impatient?”

You nodded and said, “Want you so bad.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Do you think you could wait just a little bit longer, sweetheart? You’re just so much fun to play with.”

That was when you decided you were done waiting, pulling Junhui to the bed and climbing on top of him. With a smirk of your own, you said, “I think we’re done with that now.”

“Fine. Get up and get on your knees, then.”

You pretended to think about his instructions for a moment before you grinned and said, “Make me.”

Before you could really process what was happening, Junhui had flipped the two of you over so that he was on top. With a soft smile of his own, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Are you gonna listen, now?”

“Hm, no. I don’t think so,” you said.

“Please, darling? For me?” he asked, moving to kiss and bite your neck.

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you and said, “Fuck, baby. Feels so good.” Junhui whined and started to move his hips against yours, still kissing and biting every bit of you that he could reach, and that was when you had an idea. Your hands flew to his hair and tugged as you added, “Do you like when I tell you how good it feels?”

Junhui stopped what he was doing just long enough to nod against you and said, “Like knowing I’m doing a good job.”

“Well, you are, baby. Such a good boy for me.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

“You ok?”

“’m fine,” he answered, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

And that was when you realized that Junhui was far different from the man that you expected him to be, at least in the bedroom. So, with a smile on your face and a voice dripping with lust, you asked, “Do you want me to take control, baby?”

Junhui looked nervous, and his voice was small as he said, “Yes, please.”

You softened when you noticed how nervous he was and said, “That’s fine with me, angel.”

Junhui noticeably relaxed at your words, and he said, “Tell me what you want. Please?”

“I want you inside me. Please, baby?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, swiftly climbing off of you and ridding himself of his clothes. You stood and did the same before you pulled Junhui in for another kiss. He whined when he felt your lips on his, and you pulled away with a soft laugh.

“You’re so cute,” you said.

There was a beat of silence before Junhui said, “Can I please fuck you?”

You smiled and bit your lip before you said, “Of course, baby.”

With no further hesitation, you gently pushed Junhui back onto his bed, straddling him once he was lying down. You looked down at him with a smile, wordlessly asking for confirmation. When your eyes met, he nodded and said, “Please.”

That was all you needed to hear to carefully lower yourself onto his cock, letting out a loud moan as you felt him enter you. You held onto his shoulders as you steadied yourself, still adjusting to his size. Then, when you were ready, you started to slowly move up and down.

Junhui’s hands immediately found their way to your hips, his nails digging into your skin as he reveled in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him. The way he seemed to lose himself in you only made you want more, and you silently hoped this wouldn’t be the only time you fucked him.

“Feels so good,” Junhui whined, holding onto you tighter as he bucked his hips up to meet yours.

“I know, baby. You’re so fucking good for me,” you said with a moan.

“Better than him?” he asked, looking up at you with desperate eyes.

You were quiet for a minute in response to Junhui’s question, the only noises in the room being your ragged breaths, his desperate whines, and the sound of your skin meeting his as you continued to ride him. But when he reached up to touch your chest, a loud moan was ripped from your throat before you said, “Fuck, yes. So much better, baby.”

Junhui whined louder as he started to move his hips faster, and you couldn’t help but think about how cute he was when he was desperate to please you. The thought that you wouldn’t mind seeing him again and maybe spending time with him outside of having sex also crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to linger on that for too long, especially when you were already so close to an orgasm.

Before you knew it, a familiar rush of pleasure washed over you, and you came undone around Junhui with a loud moan of his name. He continued to fuck up into you through your release, stilling inside of you when he reached his own. He was louder than you anticipated, practically screaming your name as he came, but you didn’t really mind that. In all honesty, you thought that it was cute.

After you both caught your breath, you climbed off of him and laid your head on his chest, and he pulled you close. Once the two of you found a comfortable position, he said, “That was amazing. I can’t believe that bastard doesn’t appreciate you.” You were silent in response to his comment, and he hurriedly added, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s ok,” you mumbled, struggling to stay focused on the conversation you were having as opposed to the tornado of emotion that had begun swirling around the inside of your head once again.

“What’s on your mind, darling?” Junhui asked, his tone softer than when he’d insulted Yoongi.

“I really don’t want to go home to him tonight.”

“You could stay here tonight. If you want to, of course.”

“I can’t. He’ll wonder where I am and worry.”

“Will he?”

You were quiet for a minute as you thought about the question. Honestly, you didn’t know if Yoongi would miss you. After all, you’d lost count of how many times you’d told him that you were staying at a friend’s house for the night, gone out, and come home without any acknowledgement from your husband whatsoever. Then, you realized that even if he would miss you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care in that moment. So, with a sigh, you answered, “Ok, I’ll stay.”

Junhui smiled gently before he kissed you again, pulling you closer as he enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his. When you pulled away for air, he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He sighed softly before he said, “Being yourself.”

“You’re cute.”

“So are you,” he said. “Now, how about we get cleaned up?”

“That sounds great.”

Junhui wordlessly stood up and stretched his hand out to you. You took it and got out of bed, letting him lead you to his bathroom. Once you got there, he helped you into the shower before stepping in himself. Then, he turned the water on, and you helped him wash. Once he was clean again, he did the same for you, and the two of you talked about whatever came to mind.

Once both of you were clean again, Junhui gave you some spare clothes from his closet to put on, and you got dressed. He did the same before dragging you right back to his bed to lie down. After you both found a comfortable position, you talked about whatever you could think of, hoping to get to know each other better. You initially thought that the questions he asked you would stay superficial, like your favorite songs or what you liked to do for fun, but in a matter of minutes, the conversation topic shifted to your marriage.

“Why are you even with him?” Junhui asked, genuinely baffled by the idea of someone like you being married to someone like Yoongi.

“He wasn’t always like this,” you answered wistfully. “When we first got married, he treated me like a princess. He never let a day go by without telling me how much he loved me and how lucky he was to have me.”

“What changed?”

You thought before a minute before you answered, struggling to figure out the right words to accurately explain all of the shifts in your marriage over the years. Eventually, you sighed and said, “The changes started when he won the DA election a few years ago. He was so happy, so initially, I didn’t mind that he was ignoring me in favor of work.”

“Initially? I guess that means something else changed?”

You nodded and said, “He started forgetting the important things too. When it was just a date here and there, it was fine, but eventually he started forgetting my birthday and even our anniversary.

“Are you fucking serious?” Junhui asked, sounding more like a pissed off best friend than a guy that you’d just hooked up with.

“At first, I assumed that it was because he was busy, so I tried to be understanding. Then, when it happened again, I opened Snapchat and saw stories that Miyeon had posted earlier that night. He was with her.”

“So, does that mean that you knew about the affair when you found out about the baby?”

You nodded and answered, “I knew from the moment I got her the job as his secretary, and I saw the way he looked at her. I know that he loved me once, but even when he did, he never looked at me like that.” Your eyes started to well with tears as you wondered what she had that you didn’t, but you quickly wiped your eyes, not wanting Junhui to notice.

But of course, Junhui did notice. With a softness that you were already growing to love in his voice, he pulled you closer, rubbing your back as he said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s ok,” you replied through the tears that refused to stop falling.

The room fell silent as you cried, with Junhui shushing you gently and rubbing your back until your tears ran dry. As you caught your breath, he kissed your forehead and said, “You deserve so much better than him.”

“I’ve thought about filing for divorce so many times.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You were quiet for a minute before you answered, “I don’t want to make him look bad.”

“He made himself look bad the moment he stepped away from his marriage and got Miyeon pregnant. You wouldn’t be ruining his reputation; you’d be ensuring it was more accurate.”

You wanted to say something in response, reassure Junhui that it wasn’t what it looked like, but you knew that he was right. So, you just said, “I guess so.”

After that, the conversation topic shifted again, since neither you nor Junhui wanted to talk about your failed marriage. Despite the change in conversation, though, your thoughts stayed focused on what he’d said about your husband and his reputation. You knew that he was right, but you didn’t want to admit it just yet. So, you tried desperately to think about anything else while you started to doze off in Junhui’s arms, relaxing for the first time in what felt like an eternity as you enjoyed finally feeling wanted again.

After that first night that the two of you spent together, you and Junhui were practically inseparable, provided that your husband wasn’t around to see you with the man that he hated more than just about anyone else. Not that Yoongi was around much, anyway. Between running for re-election and Miyeon’s pregnancy, which he still thought you didn’t know about, he had pretty much no time left for you. You weren’t necessarily complaining about that, though. After all, your husband being busy made it far easier to make time to see Junhui.

It was about a month into your time with Junhui that you started visiting him in his office. You learned a lot about him from those visits, like the types of clients he usually represented and how their “support” was what gave Junhui the opportunity to live such a luxurious life, even if he didn’t get many other cases.

There were a lot of questions that you wanted to ask about why they needed his help so frequently and why he was always so happy to oblige, but you decided not to ask them. After all, you had a strong feeling you didn’t want to know the answer. Besides, you didn’t have many opportunities to ask, considering he avoided talking about work as much as he could when he was with you. But really, the two of you didn’t do much talking at all when you were together.

To be fair, you couldn’t really talk when you were sitting under Junhui’s desk with his cock in your mouth, listening to his sweet whimpers and whines as you got him off. You weren’t sure how you got into the position you were in, really. One moment, you were sitting on his desk, kissing him and occasionally letting your hands wander as he told you how beautiful you looked in between kisses. Next thing you knew, you were climbing under his desk, telling him to be quiet, and wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck, feels so good,” he whined, gently thrusting into your mouth.

You hummed around him as you sucked him off, loving the sweet little noises that slipped out of his mouth. God, everything about the way he looked and sounded made you want him more. His eyes were shut, and his mouth hung open while he moaned in pleasure. His hands were tangled in your hair, holding you like you were the only thing that he wanted in that moment, and you loved every bit of it.

Your activities were interrupted, however, when the phone on Junhui’s desk started to ring. You stopped what you were doing when you heard him answer and started to crawl out from under his desk. Before you could get very far, though, you looked up at him and noticed that he was staring at you with pleading eyes. When he hung up the phone, you bit your lip and asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Please don’t go,” he mumbled.

“You want me to keep sucking your cock?”

He nodded in response and said, “I don’t think you’d be able to leave without him seeing you, anyway.”

You froze in place and asked, “What do you mean?”

“That was the office receptionist. Yoongi is on his way up.”

“Why the fuck is Yoongi here?”

“Said that he had to talk to me about the election? I don’t know,” he groaned. “I was too focused on what you were doing to pay attention on the conversation.”

You gave him a cocky smirk before asking, “Do you want me to keep going once I’m back under the desk?”

Junhui looked nervous as he answered, “Won’t he notice?”

“Not if I just keep you in my mouth. Would you like that, baby?”

He hesitated before he nodded, and you climbed back under his desk. Right as you took Junhui’s cock in your mouth again, you heard a door open, and an all-too-familiar voice said, “Mr. Wen! It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. Please, just call me Junhui.”

“So, Mr.  Wen,” Yoongi said, “I just wanted to give you some advice.”

“What kind of advice?” Junhui asked, still struggling to maintain his composure with your mouth around him.

“Well, I know who your friends are, and I know what they do. I also have a strong feeling that your friends are the reason you’re running. So, my advice is this: don’t let them affect how you do your job. Do the right thing, Mr. Wen.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“You’d better. Good luck, and may the best man win.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

With that, Yoongi said, “I’m sure that I’ll see you soon.”

“I’m sure I will. Goodbye, Yoongi.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Wen.”

You heard the door shut, and the sound of Yoongi’s footsteps faded down the hall. When you were sure he was gone, you didn’t hesitate at all, swirling your tongue around Junhui’s tip and earning a loud moan from him as he started to thrust into your mouth again. His hands found their way to your hair almost immediately, and with a moan, he said, “’m close.”

You moaned around Junhui’s cock, and that was all it took for him to come undone with a series of soft moans and curses. You stilled around him when his release washed over him, taking care not to overstimulate him as he spilled into your mouth. Then, when you were sure he was done, you carefully took him out of your mouth, looked up at him and swallowed, feeling proud when another high-pitched whine slipped out of his mouth.

With a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, you looked up at him and said, “Are you ok, baby?”

“I’m ok. That was just so good,” he mumbled, still struggling to regain his composure.

You laughed softly and said, “Well, how can I not reward my baby for being such a good boy for me?”

Junhui blushed and helped you up before pulling you into a hug, hoping to hide how much he liked it when you called him your baby. But of course, you could see right through him.

While you relaxed in Junhui’s hold, you found yourself dreaming about a day that you could just stay with him instead of having to go home to a marriage that you knew was dead. Still, you weren’t sure if you were ready to walk away from Yoongi just yet, so you decided to wait a little bit longer.

As the election drew nearer, your relationship with Junhui only grew more intense. Initially, you wanted to at least try to pretend that your time with him was just a bit of fun to distract you from your disaster of a marriage and how unhappy you really were. As time went on, though, you found yourself actually looking forward to spending time with Junhui, even if there weren’t plans for sex. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were falling in love with him.

You finally had to confront the fact that your feelings for Junhui went beyond sexual attraction the day before the election results were to be announced. You’d gone to his house for the day because Yoongi had other plans. He swore he wasn’t out with Miyeon, but you didn’t care anymore. After all, you were too busy enjoying your time doing whatever the hell you wanted with Junhui. You made out, you watched terrible movies, you played board games that neither of you fully understood, and you laid in bed together talking about anything and everything.

Your head was on his chest, and he gently stroked your hair as he asked, “Can I ask you something that might make you mad?”

“If you know that it might make you mad, why are you asking?” you responded, laughing softly.

He sighed and said, “Because I’ve realized some things lately, and I need to know where we stand.”

“Baby, you’re worrying me. What’s up?”

“Would you consider leaving Yoongi?”

You were stunned into silence by his question, unsure of what you could say. On the one hand, all you wanted was to finally get out of your miserable marriage and be with someone that treated you like you actually mattered to him. On the other hand, were you ready to take that step? You’d been with Yoongi for so long at that point, and you were worried about what your family and friends would think if you admitted that your marriage wasn’t as picture-perfect as you made it seem whenever you saw them.

You snapped out of your contemplation when Junhui said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Don’t worry about it. I just-”

“It’s ok. I’d consider it, but I don’t know if I could go through with it. I love you, but-”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I love you too.” There was a brief silence before Junhui asked, “What does this mean for the future?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need and cheer you on until you are.”

“Thank you,” you answered.

After that, Junhui just held you close, each of you taking in the fact that you really admitted that you loved each other.

When the time came for you to go home, you kissed Junhui’s cheek and said, “Thank you for today.”

“It’s no problem, my love.”

And with that, you walked out of Junhui’s house and drove back to your own, dreading the time that you’d have to spend with your husband.

When you got home, Yoongi asked, “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” you answered, upset about having to come home to your husband and missing Junhui more than you should have been.

“I’m glad,” he said, not really paying attention. “Listen, I have some things to take care of tomorrow after the gala. Can you get an Uber home tomorrow night?”

“Of course,” you said, used to his behavior.

“Thank you, my love.”

You wanted to yell at Yoongi not to call you that, but you didn’t. Instead, you plastered a fake grin on your face and said, “No problem, honey.”

For a minute, it looked like Yoongi was going to say something else. Instead, he seemed to snap himself out of it and just smiled. Not wanting to continue the conversation, you went straight to your bedroom, drifting off to sleep and thinking about Junhui.

The election results were planned to be announced at an elaborate gala, which you weren’t exactly looking forward to. You were certain that Yoongi would be paying more attention to Miyeon than you, the dress that he’d bought you for the event was uncomfortable and the exact opposite of the way that you preferred to dress, and you honestly had no idea if you were going to be able to spend any time with Junhui. Regardless, you put on the frumpy black dress and carefully applied your makeup while you waited for Yoongi to finish getting ready.

When your husband finished getting dressed and walked into your living room, he stopped and stared at you with an expression of what could only be described as confusion and guilt. After a brief awkward silence, however, he snapped himself out of it and said, “You look breathtaking tonight, love,” his voice barely above a whisper as he admired you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, uncomfortable with the sudden display of affection that you’d been denied long enough that it now felt foreign.

After a moment of thought, Yoongi asked, “How about after the gala, we go out and celebrate together. Just you and me. What do you think?”

“I thought you said you were busy after the gala,” you replied matter-of-factly.

That was when Yoongi remembered what he’d told you and sighed, answering, “I can move that.”

“I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. It must be important if you ignored me the entire time you were planning it,” you spat, not thinking about your words or the way you said them.

“Hey, I did not fucking ignore you.”

“Don’t lie to me, Yoongi.”

“Love, can we just talk about this later? We’ll celebrate after the gala.”

“No, we won’t. I made plans since you said that you were busy.”

“Well, move them.”

“No. I’m not going to change my plans because you suddenly feel guilty about not spending enough time with your wife.”

Yoongi went silent after that, ignoring you as the two of you walked to your car and drove to the event. When you actually got to the venue, though, it was like the two of you were completely different people. The scowls that had graced both of your faces in the car turned to smiles so convincing you almost fooled yourself the second the two of you stepped out of the car. Yoongi’s arm wrapped around your waist as he guided you to the entrance. He doted on you as the two of you waited for the event to begin, constantly checking in with you to make sure that you were ok. It was strange, and you didn’t like it.

If the shift in how he treated you had come a few months earlier, before you found out for sure that Yoongi had been sleeping with Miyeon, you would have welcomed it with open arms as a sign that the man you loved still loved you. The problem with that, though, is that he wasn’t the man that you loved anymore. You were just going through the motions until you felt that the time was right for you to finally divorce him.

A few minutes after you arrived with Yoongi, you saw Junhui enter and sit down at a nearby table. As soon as you saw him, you desperately wanted to run to him, pull him into a hug, and kiss him like nothing else mattered. Instead, you stayed right where you were, silently looking forward to the plans you’d made with him for later that night.

You were bored out of your mind for most of the gala. Yoongi once again paid absolutely no attention to you, a sharp contrast to his attempt to pretend he still loved you earlier. Miyeon decided to not only show up at the gala but also spend every moment she wasn’t flirting with the other married men at the event hanging off of your husband’s arm. Your blood was boiling, but you maintained a cool exterior to avoid making a scene at an event that you knew was important to both the man that you loved and the man that you used to love.

When it was finally time to announce the results, you sat up straighter, forced a smile, and clapped as your city’s mayor approached the stage. When he reached the microphone, he said, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for attending tonight’s gala, held to announce the results of this year’s district attorney election. Before I announce the results, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge the sitting district attorney, Min Yoongi, and his contribution to our community for the last four years. Thank you.”

Yoongi stood up and waved to the other attendees as they clapped, and you started to feel sick to your stomach. You knew that it was wrong for you to think the way that you did, but you were honestly hoping that Yoongi lost the election. It was petty, and you knew it, but you wanted him to have some kind of consequence for the way that he’d treated you. In your mind, there was no better way to get that than to rip the career that made him so happy he forgot about you right out from under him.

Before you could continue wishing your husband would fail in his career, you were distracted by the mayor starting to speak again. With a clearly practiced fake smile on his face, he said, “Now, for the results of this year’s election. Our district attorney is Wen Junhui.”

 When you heard Junhui’s name, you stood and cheered, not caring who stared as you applauded your husband’s loss. Watching Junhui approach the stage, you felt nothing but pride, and as he thanked everyone for attending the gala and voting for him, you couldn’t help but think that it was time to start loving him out loud.

In between Yoongi’s shallow attempts at conversation, you stepped away from your table to find Junhui, weaving your way through the crowd of very intimidating-looking individuals that wanted to congratulate him for his win. When Junhui saw you, though, he pushed his way past all of them to pull you close, whispering, “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Congratulations, my love,” you said. “I can’t stay, but I wanted you to know how proud I am of you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. We’re still celebrating together after this, right?”

“Of course,” you answered before you went back to your table

“What were you doing with him?” Yoongi asked, glaring at Junhui.

“Why do you even care? I thought you were too busy with your little girlfriend,” you spat back, not caring that Miyeon seemed to deflate at your words.

“Don’t act like you know what happened.”

“Oh, but I do. I know everything.” Yoongi looked shocked at your admission, and you added, “Did you really think I didn’t?”

“It doesn’t give you the right to start fucking him of all people,” Yoongi said.

“I think it does.”

“Whatever,” Yoongi spat, standing from his seat. “I’m not letting whatever the hell you’re doing go any further.”

The moment Yoongi spotted Junhui, he practically dragged him outside, yelling about how he wasn’t gonna let the younger man take what was rightfully his. Whether Yoongi meant you or his job as district attorney, you didn’t know, but you did know that he was going to get himself in trouble if he didn't calm down.

What happened next was a blur. You tried to talk Yoongi into going back inside, but before you could get the words out, he had Junhui on the ground, throwing punches and yelling about how he wasn’t going to get away with whatever he did. Not knowing what else to do, you ran inside to get help. Initially, you tried to find venue security, but they were nowhere to be found. So instead, you found Junhui’s friends from earlier.

After you explained the situation, Junhui’s “friends” followed you outside, immediately pulling Yoongi off of Junhui. They looked like they wanted to beat your husband to a pulp, but all it took was one look from Junhui for them to back down.

After making sure Junhui wasn't seriously injured, you walked over to Yoongi and said, “What the fuck was that?”

Yoongi answered, “He started it.”

“No, he didn’t. And even if he had, it doesn’t matter. You can’t just start fights in a fucking parking lot, Yoongi.” You paused before you added, “I’m gonna go check on Junhui.”

“Do you really care more about some guy than your own husband?”

“I don’t know. Do you really care more about your secretary than your own wife?” you asked before you walked away to find Junhui.

When you found Junhui, he was talking to the police on the other side of the parking lot. You didn’t hear all of what they said, but you hoped that everything would be over soon.

After Junhui finished speaking to the officer that had shown up during the chaos, he walked up to you and said, “I’m not pressing charges.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to deal with Yoongi any more than I have to,” he answered, looking like it hurt to talk. “Besides, I’m not actually hurt. He’s not as strong as he looks.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you said, “No, he certainly is not.” After a brief moment of silence, you asked, “Can I go home with you tonight?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

With that, you helped Junhui to his car, and the two of you went back to his apartment. When you got there, you checked him again, and beyond a split lip and a few bruises that you were positive wouldn’t take long to heal, he was unharmed. Still, much to his frustration, you made him rest, taking care of him until the two of you fell asleep together in his bed.

When you went back home the next day, you found Yoongi in his home office, cleaning it up and gathering the files that would need to go back to city hall before his term officially ended. When he looked up and saw you, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you said, “I want a divorce.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why, Yoongi? What's the point of staying married if both of us are seeing other people?”

“Do you have any idea how a divorce will make me look?”

“It can't make you look any worse than trying to fight the new DA in a fucking parking lot.”

Yoongi was silent for a minute before he sighed and said, “I'm not signing any divorce papers. Got it?”

Not wanting the argument to escalate, you walked away without another word, choosing to call Junhui and ask if you could go back to his place. He readily agreed, and without even bothering to tell Yoongi, you left.

When you pulled up in front of Junhui’s mansion, he was already outside waiting for you, already looking like he was in less pain than the day before. When you got out of your car, he held his arms out to hug you and asked, “Rough morning?”

“He said he won’t sign the divorce papers. Some bullshit about his image,” you answered, collapsing into Junhui’s arms as you fought back tears. You couldn’t believe that after everything that had happened between the two of you, Yoongi refused to walk away.

“He what?” Junhui asked, his voice laced with thinly veiled rage. But before you could explain further, he said, “Go inside. I’m gonna make some calls, and it’ll all be ok.”

“Do not hurt him,” you said as you let go of Junhui. “Promise me.”

“I promise that I will not hurt him, and I promise that I will not have other people hurt him on my behalf. I’m just gonna call in a few favors.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart.”

With a sigh, you went inside, and Junhui took out his phone. While you waited for him to make whatever calls he needed to make, you wondered what kind of favors he was owed and how he was going to use them to get Yoongi to agree to divorce you. The more you thought about it, however, the more you realized that you really didn’t want to know.

After what felt like forever, Junhui came inside, and the two of you went up to his room, ready to relax together and forget about Yoongi for a while.

You decided to stay at Junhui’s house for a few more days, occasionally texting Yoongi just to let him know that you were safe. You knew it was kind of ridiculous to update your husband about staying at your lover’s house, but as tired as you were of being married to Yoongi, you knew that you’d feel guilty if you disappeared without a trace.

Eventually, though, you got a call from Yoongi. You answered it, wondering what was wrong, but before you could ask, you heard him say, “Fine. You win. I’ll sign the fucking papers.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what the fuck he did, but I don’t want him doing it anymore. I’ll sign them.”

You were incredibly confused and concerned, but you decided not to question the fact that he changed his mind. Instead, you just said, “Thank you. I’ll call you after I make arrangements with a lawyer,” and hung up.

“Who was that, baby?” Junhui asked, coming back to the bedroom.

“It was Yoongi. He agreed to the divorce.”

“Oh, really?” Junhui said, giving you a knowing smile. “Did he say why?”

“He said that he didn’t know what the fuck you did, but he didn’t want you doing it anymore. What the fuck were those favors?”

“Oh, I just called some friends that are really good at finding information,” he answered matter-of-factly as he carefully climbed into bed next to you.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, my love,” he said, relaxing as you pulled him close. “I just wanna make you happy.”

Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!

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