The night before played on a loop behind your closed eyes, it was as if you had your own private screening of the events that took place yesterday. Seeing Wonwoo drenched in rainwater, looking like a sad, pathetic cat you couldn't help but let inside. You still felt the ghost of that first desperate kiss on the couch or the way his hands had been freezing until they weren't. Or the way he had looked at you from between your legs, pulling noises out of you that you almost didn't recognize as your own.

And while… you technically didn’t go the full mile with him, boundaries were still crossed. That was the scariest part of it all. The confrontation. Okay, confrontation might be too heavy but the acknowledgment of it?

Horrifying.

The silence of the room was heavy. It didn't help that his scent had found a way of latching itself onto your pillows and blankets. He was everywhere.

You shifted under the duvet, the fabric of your sleep shirt—the only thing that you were wearing at the moment—brushing against your skin. You felt a flush of heat crawl up your neck as you remembered exactly how you ended up in this state.

You reached out to your phone again, only to see the sticky note Wonwoo had left behind for you right next to it.

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

You groaned, setting the phone down as you dragged a pillow over your face. What were you going to do?

But as if almost on cue, your phone vibrated.

[www.onwoo sent you a photo.]

Life had a funny way with timing, didn't it?

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head as soon as the picture loaded on the screen. It was a dimly lit selfie that was more focused on his neck than his face. His fingers were hooked onto his collar, effectively tugging it down to reveal what you had done to his neck the night before.

www.onwoo: you had a little too much fun last night… didn’t you? ;)

Oh my god.

The phone slipped from your hand, landing with a dull thud on your chest. You stared back at the ceiling, hoping for something or someone to put you out of your misery.

You didn't even have enough time to process the message before your door was shoved wide open.

“I know you're awake you little hussy!” Sohee sang out as she nearly launched herself onto your bed.

She scrambled over to you like an overly energetic puppy, tugging at your shoulder. You could feel her practically vibrating right next to you on the bed. She lifted her head up to look at you. “Tell me everything!”

You felt your stomach drop. “Tell you about what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me! I literally walked your boyfriend out this morning.” She said as she rolled her eyes at you, dropping her head on your shoulder in disbelief.

“What—first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” you tried to clarify, sitting up almost instantly, “and second of all, it’s none of your business!”

Sohee just cackled, completely undeterred by your weak protest. “None of my business? Honey, when a guy who looks like that sneaks out of your room at the ass crack of dawn, it becomes my business. Our business actually.” She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, now spill. Who initiated it? Was it him? I bet—”

“Get out!” You shoved at her shoulder, your face heating up with every passing second. You were grateful you were still covered by your blanket, because you knew you had nothing but a t-shirt on.

Just then, Yubin’s head popped into the doorway, her eyebrow raising at the commotion. “I’m assuming this is about Wonwoo, right?”

“See! Even Yubin wants to know about it!” Sohee squealed, her figure squirming on your bed.

“I never said that,” Yubin said as she stepped into the room. She leaned against your dresser, looking unimpressed by your weak attempt to hide under the covers. “Although… I’m glad y’all did that while we were away. I would have killed myself if I had been home when you... you know,” she vaguely gestured at you and the bed.

You felt your face heat up again at the implication. God, this was so embarrassing.

Yubin smirked, checking her watch. Her expression shifted as she realized the time. “Actually, as much as I want to bully you right now… I have to go. I’m going to be late for my shift.”

She walked over to your bed, reaching over to grab Sohee by the back of her hoodie and hauling her off your bed. “Come on, gossip girl. You’re taking me to work today, since you have so much energy.”

“Wait! No—I didn’t even get any juicy details!” Sohee wailed, her fingers clawing at your duvet as she was dragged toward the door.

“We’ll get our details later today, don’t you worry!” Yubin sang out, her voice getting further and further away with every step she took.

The click of the front door shutting was the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. Silence—beautiful silence. You flopped back onto your pillows, the mattress groaning in protest, and grabbed your phone one more time.

Wonwoo’s selfie was still open, his collar showing how carried away you got the night before. Though, you couldn’t deny that it was a nice sight to see—the evidence of your own hunger written on his skin. Your phone vibrated from another message.

www.onwoo: i’m still thinking about the sounds you made birdy.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard while your heart pounded in your ears. Part of you wanted to throw the phone across the room and bury yourself under the covers for the rest of eternity. The other part—the one that always fought back—wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Because you knew very well that Wonwoo was feeling cocky from last night’s events.

you: i bet. although… isn’t it too early to be getting this worked up? i thought you were supposed to be at work…

The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly. He was definitely slacking off… or maybe he was on break? Doesn’t matter.

www.onwoo: i am but… i enjoy pissing you off even more <3 and what better way to spend my shift than bothering you? :D

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers were already flying across the screen before you could stop them.

you: ugh, go away.

www.onwoo: you’re cute. save some of that energy for sunday. i’m looking forward to our “study” date.

Sunday. 

Right. 

You’d almost forgotten about the study date in the wake of… everything else. But before you could worry about Sunday, you had to survive tomorrow night. You’re not even sure which day you were afraid of more… a frat party filled with strangers or being alone with Wonwoo for a whole afternoon. Shivers ran down your spine at the mere thought of it.

You didn’t reply to his last message. You couldn’t. Instead, you set your phone on your nightstand and stared back up at the ceiling.

Oh, what were you going to do?

It was 8:47pm and you were still in your sweatpants, sitting on the floor of your closet and contemplating whether you could just feign a sudden, violent illness. Food poisoning wouldn’t be too far of a reach… right?

The party was going to start soon but you took zero initiative to get ready and besides, who comes to a party on time?

Your phone buzzed on your dresser. You scrambled for it, stomach already twisting from the anxiety. It was Wonwoo. Again.

www.onwoo: thinking of you

And another message right after:

www.onwoo: my roommates are gonna be out for the night. place is empty yk… in case you wanted to get ahead on our project…

A shiver ran its way down your spine. It was a blatant invitation. An offer to continue where you left off, maybe even go further than last time. It was so, so tempting. 

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, ready to type ‘be there in ten’ when another notification slid onto your screen, effectively killing the mood.

hyunwoo: i’m sorry, but something came up and i can’t walk over with you. just meet me at the party? i’ll make sure to save you a drink ;)

You stared at your phone, mind torn by the messages.

On one hand, you had Wonwoo—the man who had spent the last twenty-four hours haunting your thoughts—essentially offering you a repeat of what you now considered the best night of your life. “Get ahead on our project” was the most blatant lie you’d ever heard, and yet, part of you wanted to believe it just so you had an excuse to go.

On the other hand, there was Hyunwoo. He was nice and all, but there wasn’t anything interesting about him aside from his looks. Though, his text felt like a cold splash of water. Meet me at the party? The idea of walking into a house full of sweaty, shouting strangers by yourself was enough to make you want to crawl deeper into your closet and never come out. That was a bit dramatic but you aren’t completely lying either, anything would be better than going to some frat party.

“Of course,” you muttered, leaning your head against your knees. “Of course he’s not coming with me.”

You looked back at Wonwoo’s messages. Oddly enough, they felt like a warm hand on the small of your back. It was intoxicating in a way. If you went to his place, you wouldn’t have to worry about the loud music or having to talk to strangers you would probably never see again. You’d just have him. Him and his very empty apartment.

You weren’t a flake. You had promised Hyunwoo you’d go, and if you bailed now to go “hang out” with Wonwoo, what would that make you?

A heavy sigh escaped you as you started to type.

you: as tempting as that sounds… i unfortunately have plans tonight :( nice try though

The bubbles appeared instantly. He had been waiting on your response.

www.onwoo: oh right. i forgot you had plans with… what’s his name?

you: hyunwoo.

www.onwoo: right. have fun with that. offer still stands though for when you get bored of him, because i know you will.

Your jaw dropped at the last message. A new wave of anxiety—or maybe excitement—ran through you. 

What the actual fuck.

You didn’t want to leave him hanging so you made one final reply before you actually started getting ready for the party.

you: i’ll think about it. don’t get your hopes up though.

You didn’t wait for his reply, opting to put your phone back on the dresser. After a beat of pure silence, you finally stood up and looked at what clothes to wear for the night. Wearing something casual should be acceptable right? It’s not like you’re going there to impress anybody either…

Yeah, casual is definitely the way to go. Maybe put on a little bit of makeup and call it a day—or night, in this instance. Easy enough.

You pulled out a simple but cute outfit and tossed it onto your bed before checking the time.

8:54 pm.

Let’s just get this over with.

As you walked closer to the frat house, you noticed just how loud it was. The windows glowed with the colorful lights as music pulsed from the inside. You hesitated on the sidewalk, already feeling out of place.

On second thought…

No.

You should at least text Hyunwoo that you’re here before ditching so it looks like you put in some effort in trying to meet up with him. That shouldn’t be too hard.

you: i’m here. where are you?

A minute or so passed by before he answered with a short, “inside”. 

Amazing. 

Thankfully, the entrance was open enough for you to just squeeze right through, but now you were lost. The first floor was crowded to the point where you didn’t even know if the house could legally hold this many people all at once. This had to be some kind of fire hazard.

You wandered around the party like a ghost—spectating the rest of the party goers and seeing how much fun they were having. 

Must be nice.

Another five minutes passed by and not a single text from Hyunwoo. What an asshole. And here you felt bad for having thought about ditching him for Wonwoo. 

At least you had a good reason to leave now. It’s not like there was anything or anyone waiting for you here anyway.

The air inside the house felt thick and suffocating. Bodies brushed past you as you tried to push through the crowd. You could see why some people liked going to these parties though; it was a good way of distracting yourself for the time being, plus you know it would be more fun with friends.

As you made your way back to the front door, you felt a firm hand tug and pull you back into something hard. Startled, you turned around, irritated and ready to pull away—until your eyes landed on the familiar figure standing in front of you.

“Oh,” you stared at him, blinking once in surprise.

Wonwoo cocked his head toward you, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Of all people.

Your stomach twisted and your first instinct was to pull away, but his grip tightened—firm but not forceful. Just enough to stop you from running away. And also to stop you from crashing into the couple passing next to you.

“Leaving already?” His voice cut through the noise, steady despite the volume of the party. But his eyes… there was something unreadable about them. Something that made you nervous.

You shook your head, still reeling. “Yes—but what are you doing here?”

His brow lifted in amusement, like he’d just found a hidden treasure in a pile of junk. “I could ask you the same thing, Birdy.”

He took a small swig of his drink, eyes looking you up and down. 

“I take it that these were your big plans with Hyunwoo?” He mused, voice low and playful. “You really chose a party over my empty apartment? I’m hurt, Birdy.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The guilt was there, but the confusion was stronger.

“Wait, hold on,” you started, narrowing your eyes at him. You had to step closer to him, your chest practically brushing his bicep, just to be heard over the music. “You didn’t answer my question, why are you here? Last I remember, you said you were going to be home alone and yet… you’re here.”

Wonwoo let out a low huff. He finally let go of your wrist, slightly raising both hands in mock surrender, as he mouthed out a small ‘oops’.

“Well, since you insist,” he said, leaning down until his lips were mere inches away from your ear. The proximity made your stomach do a slow, dizzying roll, his cologne invading your senses. “Those were the original plans, yes, but the guys forced me to come out last minute. Apparently, they don’t trust me to stay awake on driver duty anymore.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his smirk widening. “I might have a small history of falling asleep while waiting for them. Mingyu and Seokmin had to walk back home once because I didn’t hear their calls. They won’t let me live it down.”

Your brain stalled, the names giving you whiplash. “Wait… Mingyu and Seokmin? You guys live together?” You nearly gasped, a surge of genuine excitement bubbling up—partly because you missed your old friends, and partly because you wanted to distract yourself from how good Wonwoo smelled.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a sudden, sharp intensity. “Why do you sound so excited about them, hm?”

“Ugh, it’s not like that you freak!” You said while giggling, reaching out to shove his chest. “I just haven’t seen them in so long, that’s all…”

Wonwoo’s tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. “Sure… if that’s what you’re choosing to go with.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing.

He leaned away just a bit, getting a better look of your face. “Could’ve sworn you were just fine with me though.” His voice was smooth, but there was a slight edge to it, something annoyingly smug.

You wanted to say something back, anything, until you felt a few taps on your shoulder. You turned your head, ready to tell whoever it was that they had the wrong person, until you were met with two very familiar eyes looking back at you.

“I knew it was you!” Seokmin’s voice practically roared over the music. He looked a little broader than the last time you had seen him, but he still carried that boyish charm you loved him for. “What are you doing here? And when did you transfer? Because I knew you were at that college back home—”

“—Guys, do not drink from the blue punch bowl,” Mingyu’s voice rang out all of a sudden. “I swear I saw hair in it.” He stopped dead in tracks as soon as his gaze landed on you. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you laughed, your voice straining to compete with the bass. Before you could say another word, Seokmin was pulling you into a massive, rib-crushing hug, lifting you clean off the floor.

“I told you!” Seokmin shrieked into your ear, ignoring Wonwoo’s wince. “I told Mingyu that I saw someone who looked exactly like you on the sidewalk, but he said I was imagining things because of how many shots I took earlier!”

Mingyu rolled his eyes as he quickly pulled you into another hug the moment Seokmin set you down. He looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo, his grin turning wicked. “So… what’s going between you two?”

You were quick to respond. “Nothing! We were just catching up, that’s all.”

Wonwoo hummed in agreement, smug at the way you had just lied to everyone's face.

Mingyu did one final look-over at you and Wonwoo, unconvinced by your quick response, though he wasn’t going to push. “…Sure.”

“Anyway!” Seokmin barked, clasping his hands together to break the weird air around the group. “Since we’re all together… why not get fucked up?”

He continued, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re friends with the president so sometimes we have access to some of the better alcohol that they got here.”

“Dude, yes!” Mingyu cheered, grabbing your arm. “It’s been forever since we’ve hung out properly. We’re not letting you out of our sight tonight.” Seokmin joined in, linking his other arm through yours as they started to happily lead you towards the kitchen.

As the night went on, you continued drinking, laughing along with the guys—and Soonyoung, who had joined midway through a chaotic round of shots. The room buzzed with warmth and energy, your limbs feeling lighter with every sip of the spiked punch. You were midway through a messy round of beer pong, leaning over the table as you tried to get the perfect shot. Fortunately, you had been blessed with Mingyu being your teammate because you knew that out of the two of you—he was definitely carrying the team.

Somewhere between Soonyoung in dramatically reenacting a fight he definitely did not win and Seokmin insisting he could do a backflip—he absolutely could not—you felt a familiar presence settle beside you.

Wonwoo had been watching.

Even through the haze of alcohol, you could feel the weight of his gaze. Every time you stepped up to throw the plastic ball, his eyes lingered on the line of your back, the flush of your neck, and the way your hand was starting to shake a little more than normal.

While you pretended not to notice, your heart betrayed you by kicking up its pace every time you caught him staring, causing you to miss your shot entirely. Damn your heart for betraying you like this.

As you reached for the penalty cup, you felt a firm, cool hand close around yours.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.”

You blinked up at Wonwoo, your buzzed mind taking a second to process his words. “What?”

He gently pried the cup from your grasp, setting it back down on the table. He’d seen the way you had difficulty swallowing the last drink, your hand flying over to your mouth to suppress a gag as the burn of the alcohol hit you.

“No more drinks for you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you.

You pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “But I was having fun! We’re winning! Tell him, Mingyu!”

Mingyu, who was busy lining up his own shot, just laughed. “Actually… we’re down by four, and you just threw a shot straight at the floor. I think it might be time you call it a night.”

Soonyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “He’s cutting you off? That’s crazy. I’d never let a man control me like that.”

Seokmin nodded in agreement. “For real.”

You turned back to look at Wonwoo. “C’mon,” you slurred out, “I’m doing fine…”

Seokmin just snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “Girl, just let your boyfriend take care of your ass.” 

You gasped. “He’s not my—”

Before you could find a comeback, Wonwoo’s hand was tugging at yours. His head nodded in the direction toward the front door.

Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh~” He sang. “Alone time?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out of the kitchen, your steps slightly faltering as you followed him.

“Have fun you lovebirds~” Soonyoung cooed out from a distance. 

You barely noticed the cold air hitting your skin when he finally brought you outside. The music was muffled now, the party still raging on without you.

Wonwoo glanced at you. “Better?”

You hummed, stretching your arms out before immediately wrapping them around his neck. “Much better.”

He scoffed but didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you cling to him, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second before loosening again.

“You’re clingy tonight,” he muttered.

You nuzzled into his chest, voice soft. “And you’re nice.”

Wonwoo froze. 

“…Nice?”

You nodded. “You’re taking care of me when you technically don’t have to.”

For a moment, he said nothing, choosing to only hum in response. Then, his hand brushed over your lower back—he was warm.

You swayed slightly, clinging onto Wonwoo as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet outside was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, but you found that you didn’t mind—it was nice like this. Just you and him.

Your stomach fluttered, and for a moment, you thought it was from the way Wonwoo had been looking at you all night. Or how his hands steadied against your waist whenever you stumbled. But then, the sensation twisted, turning unpleasant, and you realized with panic that those weren’t butterflies.

You quickly let go of Wonwoo as your vision tilted slightly.

Wonwoo frowned. “You okay?”

You swallowed thickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. I just—” You opened your mouth to continue, but the moment you did, the nausea slammed into you full force.

Your eyes widened. “Oh no.”

He tensed at that.

Without saying another word, you yanked yourself from his hold and lunged toward the bushes nearby, emptying the contents of your stomach.

Wonwoo was at your side in an instant, pulling your hair back as he crouched next to you. “God, I told you that was enough,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as you heaved, whispering soft reassurances. “Just let it all out. You’ll feel better.”

You groaned, resting your forehead against your arm when you finally finished. “I want to die.”

Wonwoo snorted but didn’t stop his soothing motions. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, voice softer now.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, hunched over the bushes with Wonwoo’s steady hand rubbing slow, soothing circles along your back. The worst of the nausea had finally passed, leaving you drained and a little too aware of the fact that Wonwoo had just witnessed you at your absolute lowest.

You wiped your mouth before shooting him a weak glare. “Don’t look at me.”

“I literally just watched you throw up, I think the damage is already done, Birdy.” His smirk was downright smug as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shoved your face into your hands. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mused, patting your back. “You and everyone else who’s ever thrown up at a party.”

You groaned again, this time in embarrassment rather than nausea. “I hate this.”

Wonwoo hummed, lightly patting your back. “Could be worse.”

You turned your head just enough to glare at him. “How?”

He smirked, leaning a little closer. “Could’ve thrown up on me.”

Despite your current state, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Don’t jinx it.”

Wonwoo let you rest against him for a little while, his hand warm and steady on your knee. Eventually he sighed, shifting slightly. “Alright, come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You groaned, but didn’t resist as he helped you up, his hands firm on your waist to steady you. The ground felt a little uneven beneath your feet, but Wonwoo was there, keeping you upright.

“Ugh,” you whined as you wiped at your mouth again. “I feel disgusting.”

“You look the part, too,” he deadpanned, but the teasing glint in his eyes softened the jab.

You smacked his arm weakly, pouting. “I take back what I said, you’re not nice.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise of the party hit you full force again. The contrast was disorienting, and you clutched at Wonwoo’s arm instinctively. He glanced down at you, a little amused, but didn’t say anything as he led you through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, blinking up at him. “Where..?”

“I got it,” he assured, steering you toward the hallway. You were grateful he seemed to know his way around, because the last thing you wanted was to stumble around like a lost idiot in front of a bunch of drunk strangers.

Once you reached the bathroom, Wonwoo knocked once before opening the door and peeking inside. “All clear,” he said, holding it open for you.

You let out a relieved sigh and stepped in. “Give me like, two minutes.”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Take your time.”

You shot him a suspicious look. “You’re waiting?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah, just in case you pass out and drown in the sink.”

You squinted at him, holding onto the bathroom door for stability. “…I don’t know if that’s sweet or offensive.”

He smirked. “A little bit of both.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut the door and turned to the dirty mirror in front of you, groaning at your reflection. You looked as bad as you felt—your lipstick smudged, your hair slightly out of place, and your skin a little too flushed. You did your best to clean up, wiping areas where your makeup had smudged as well as rinsing your mouth out.

When you finally stepped back outside, Wonwoo was still waiting, just as he said he would. His eyes scanned you briefly before he nodded in approval. “Better.”

“I was going to say thanks,” you grumbled, weakly shoving at his chest, “but now I’m rethinking it.”

He caught your wrist before you could fully pull away, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. He didn’t let go, instead stepping into your space to shield you from the rest of the party-goers. “You should say it,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “Seeing as I’m the only reason you didn’t end up face-down in the grass.”

Your breath hitched, heart stuttering in your chest. Damn him, because he knew what he was doing—knew how easily he could get under your skin.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction, you huffed, yanking your wrist free. “Let’s go find the guys before I decide to ditch you.”

Wonwoo sighed, but his gaze softened as he watched you sway. “Actually… I think you should wait outside. Staying in here with this heat and the bass is only going to make you feel worse. I’ll grab the guys so we can finally get out of here.”

You gave a sleepy, miserable nod. After hurling your guts out, the idea of going back outside didn’t sound so bad. “Okay,” you murmured, already turning toward the exit.

The night breeze was a blessing. You found a sturdy tree-swing a few yards away from the porch, the thick rope creaking softly as you sat down. You had seen it when you first came to the house, you were just happy to find a place to sit while you waited on Wonwoo. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the rope, letting the cool breeze settle your nausea just a bit. For a brief moment, it was peaceful—until you heard the crunch of gravel behind you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who’s voice it was. When you finally did, you saw him standing there with a solo cup and a weak, unsettling smile.

“Sorry I didn’t reply to your texts,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. “I got caught up in something… really important. I hope you understand.”

Even through the hazy, alcohol-induced fog clouding your brain, his condescending tone was crystal clear. You looked up at him, at the stupid apologetic expression on his face, and something inside you snapped.

“Important, huh?” You huffed, a surge of cold irritation cutting through your nausea. “Save it, Hyunwoo. Honestly, just fuck off already. I shouldn’t have bothered coming here in the first place, you wasted my time by making me wait for you.”

Hyunwoo’s face hardened instantly. “Fuck off? That’s rich coming from you.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over you. “Looks like you still found a way to have a good time without me, didn’t you? I saw you with that group of guys inside. You seemed pretty cozy for someone who was ‘waiting’ for me.”

“What was I supposed to do? Stand at the door like a dog?” you snapped, your grip tightening on the swing rope. “Plus, I don’t owe you any explanation after you ditched me.”

“Oh, please,” Hyunwoo scoffed, stepping dangerously close. “Don’t act all high and mighty. Not everything revolves around you, okay? I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Then why the hell would you invite someone to a party just to ditch them?” you challenged, trying to stand up, but the swing wobbled unreliably. “Just back off, Hyunwoo. I mean it.”

He didn’t move away. Instead, he stepped closer. His hand reached out to grab the swing’s rope to keep you in place. A cold spike of panic flared in your chest. The two of you were alone outside, and you were in no condition to defend yourself if things got nasty.

A hand clamped onto Hyunwoo’s shoulder, and with one sharp, controlled burst of strength, Wonwoo shaved him back. Hyunwoo stumbled over his own feet, nearly hitting the dirt before he regained his balance.

“What the fuck?” Hyunwoo barked out, irritation running through his face.

He straightened up a bit, face painted with a kind of red that only embarrassment can bring. “What the hell is your problem—”

His voice cut off the moment he looked past Wonwoo. Standing right behind him were Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. They weren’t making a scene, but their presence alone was a wall of witnesses he wouldn’t be able to ignore. Hyunwoo glanced back over to where you were sitting, and realized that there was no way he was going to win this.

With an unhappy, bitter sigh, he muttered a curse and headed back toward the house.

The silence that followed was heavy until Seokmin stepped forward. His voice was gentle, a tone he reserved for more serious situations. “Hey… you okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?” He asked as he held his hand out to you, letting you use him to get off the swing.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. “Just… ready to go home now.”

The walk to the car was a blur. Wonwoo kept his hand on the small of your back the entire time, guiding you towards the car. He pulled the front passenger door open for you, helping you settle into the seat.

‘Wai—Hey!” Mingyu whined as he climbed into the back, mushed between Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Why am I being put in the back of my own car? This isn’t fair—”

“Stop whining,” Wonwoo muttered as he situated himself in the driver’s seat. “I’m not putting her in the back with you idiots, so just deal with it.”

The others just laughed, already half-asleep or distracted by their phones, while Mingyu continued to grumble about how “cramped” it was in the back.

You looked over at Wonwoo, whose attention was on the road. You could tell he was still bothered by the confrontation from earlier and despite how shitty you felt at the moment, you managed to mutter a small ‘thank you’ to him before succumbing to the exhaustion from the night.

You weren’t sure when your eyes fully closed. Only when you opened them again, everything was different.

The muffled bass of the party was gone, replaced by the distant hum of a car engine. Street lights flickered past, casting faint glows through the window. You stirred slightly, feeling the seatbelt strap pressing against your chest and the steady warmth of a hand on your thigh.

How the hell did you get here?

You blinked sluggishly, trying to piece together how you got here, but your thoughts were too foggy to hold onto. The only thing that registered was the low voice beside you.

“Almost home,” the familiar voice muttered.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The smooth vibration from the car almost effectively lulling you back to sleep.

Well, that was… until the car suddenly stopped.

It felt like mere seconds later when you heard the faint click of the doors unlocking, the abrupt noise pulling you further away from the haze of sleep.The guys all sluggishly slipped out of the backseat one by one. Mingyu even managed to bump his head as he slid out of the car, only for it to be followed with an almost silent cry.

And without much thought, you followed along. Well, at least tried to.

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo caught your hand before you were able to fully unbuckle yourself from the passenger’s seat.

“…Inside?” You lazily gestured towards the direction the guys were heading to.

Wonwoo looked at you skeptically. “You don’t want me to drop you off at your place?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You scoffed at his apprehension. It was cute, but you needed to crawl into a bed right now. It didn’t matter whose bed it was.

“Wonwoo,” you sighed out, “I’m completely sure, I mean we even slept—”

“—Okay, I get it.” He muttered as he shut the car off, grumbling to you about staying in your seat.

A moment later you felt a huge gust of cold air rush right past you as soon as Wonwoo opened your door. 

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman, Woo,” You annoyingly batted your eyelashes at him.

He only rolled his eyes at your teasing, and yet, he still held his hand out for you. And when you interlaced your fingers with his—they were warm and stable.

The walk to his place was rather short but, with the way your head was still reeling from tonight’s decisions… yeah, you needed to lie down like right now.

By the time you reached his unit, a giggle escaped you—Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung were slouched against the door like a group of wasted zombies who’d completely forgotten how to function. Wonwoo let out a long, tired sigh beside you—one that very clearly said “I cannot believe these idiots couldn’t open the door.”

“Finally,” Seokmin groaned at the sight of Wonwoo, “we thought we were going to be out here all night!”

The moment Wonwoo pushed the door open, Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung shoved past him like they had just escaped a war zone. Shoes were kicked off haphazardly, jackets flung over furniture, and Seokmin collapsed face-first onto the couch with another dramatic groan.

You followed much slower, still groggy but steadily sobering up with each passing second. The cool night air had cleared some of the fog in your mind, and now, as you stepped inside, you took in your surroundings with some clarity. The apartment was surprisingly clean for three guys living together. Warm lighting softened the space, posters lined the walls, and the open layout of the living room and kitchen made it feel cozy.

But what caught your attention wasn’t the apartment itself.

It was the sleek black cat perched on top of the couch, staring at you with piercing green eyes.

“Oh,” you mumbled, blinking at the pretty kitty. “Who has a cat?”

Wonwoo barely had time to answer before the cat gracefully hopped down and strutted toward you. She sniffed at your leg, tail flicking, before rubbing against you as if claiming you as her own.

Your mind sharpened a little more as you crouched down, fingers threading through her sleek fur.

“Looks like Gigi likes you,” Wonwoo observed, sounding mildly impressed.

You grinned, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s evil,” Seokmin muttered from the couch. “Don’t let her fool you.”

“She’s just selective,” Wonwoo defended, watching as you scratched under his cat’s chin.

You glanced up at him with a tired, playful smile. “So, does this mean I’m special?”

Wonwoo met your gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Maybe.”

Gigi curled around your legs, tail flicking against your calf as you stroked her sleek fur, her purring loud despite the lingering noise from the rest of the apartment. 

The guys had mostly settled in by now—Mingyu had disappeared into his room without a word, Seokmin was sprawled across the couch as if someone had thrown him on there, and Soonyoung was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about needing a “midnight recovery snack.”

You were still feeling a little groggy, the weight of exhaustion clinging to you like a thick blanket, but you were awake enough now to register the warmth of the apartment.

The scent of something warm and herbal caught your attention. You turned your head to see Wonwoo setting a mug on the kitchen counter, the steam curling up into the air.

“Why did you make tea?” you asked, blinking in mild disbelief.

Wonwoo scoffed, barely sparing you a glance as he leaned against the counter. “You literally threw up earlier.”

Seokmin mumbled something incoherent, face half-buried into the couch cushion. Then, with a sleepy grin, he added, “what a simp.”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “Shut up.”

But Seokmin wasn’t done. “Nah, for real, if this were any of us, he would’ve let us rot.”

“It’s true,” Soonyoung chimed in from the fridge, voice muffled as he dug around for god-knows-what. “Where was this energy when I had food poisoning, huh?”

“You got food poisoning because you ate gas station sushi,” Wonwoo said flatly.

“And yet, I still deserved some love and compassion!” Soonyoung shot back before popping a random grape into his mouth.

You snorted, turning your attention back to the tea.

The mug was warm in your hands as you lifted it to your lips, letting the honeyed sweetness settle on your tongue.

“Good?” Wonwoo asked, watching you carefully.

You hummed in approval after taking a sip of the tea, then smirked as an idea popped into your head. “Wonwoo… are you actually taking care of me, or are you trying to get me into your bed faster?”

A beat passed.

One of the guys groaned in disgust.

Wonwoo exhaled sharply. Instead of arguing, he simply turned on his heel and walked toward his room, mumbling something about getting changed as he disappeared inside. 

You grinned at his retreating figure, taking another slow sip of your tea. This was fun.

A few minutes later, when he reemerged from his room, you nearly choked on your tea.

Gone was the slightly rumpled party outfit. Now, Wonwoo stood in the doorway wearing a t-shirt and loose gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. 

But it wasn’t just that. 

It was the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the way his hair fell slightly messier than usual, giving him an effortlessly good look that had no business being this hot.

You weren’t sure why, but something about it made your stomach flip—in a good way this time.

Wonwoo barely spared you a glance as he walked over, dropping a small bundle of clothes directly over your lap. “Here.”

You blinked.

“Wow,” you muttered, staring down at the clothes on your lap. “Romance really is alive.”

Wonwoo ignored your sarcasm, reaching out to tug at your free hand. “Come on.”

You frowned in exaggerated confusion, refusing to budge. “Where are we going?”

“To my room.” He deadpanned.

“Oh?” You grinned, cocking your head.

His grip tightened slightly before he rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears noticeably pink. “You’re annoying.”

You cackled as he pulled you along, barely giving you a chance to set your almost-empty mug down before he dragged you into his room, shutting the door behind you.

The second you stepped into Wonwoo’s room you took a moment to glance around the space, taking in the surprisingly neat setup.

A sleek desk sat against the far wall, cluttered with books, a gaming setup and what looked like a few scattered notes from class. His bed had dark satin sheets that looked way too inviting after the night you had. Small posters of old movies and bands were pinned up, giving the space a bit of personality.

Your gaze flicked back to him, standing near his dresser, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“You have a nice room,” you mused, stepping further inside, tossing the clothes he had given to you on his bed. “Kind of expected it to be messier, though.”

Wonwoo scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You took one last glance around his room, eyes lingering on him just a second longer than necessary, before lifting your shirt up over your chest.

You didn’t really bother asking.

The shirt finally slipped over your head, followed by the rest of your clothes. You changed right in front of Wonwoo, your movements uncoordinated and sluggish—his eyes practically widened at the sight.

“…Seriously?” he muttered, ears already burning.

“Relax,” you said with ease, “I think we’re a bit past that point, don’t you think?”

You stepped into the sweatpants, lightly swaying as you attempted to straighten your legs out, one hand bracing against his bed.

And despite the exasperation in his voice, you knew that he wasn’t actually bothered by any of it, especially when his hand instinctively reached out to hold you steady as you changed.

Wonwoo only shook his head, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you finally stand still. Dealing with you while you were drunk was definitely a hassle, but as he watched your eyelids start to droop again with that same sleepy expression from the car ride, he knew he didn’t really mind taking care of you.

Despite the sleep pulling at you, a different need started to surface. You’d thrown up earlier at the party, a fact you were trying very hard to forget already, but the way your makeup was sitting on your face was suddenly unbearable. “Woo,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

He hummed in response behind you, hands still holding onto your wavering figure.

“I need to… stuff,” you said, gesturing vaguely at your face. “Do you have a spare toothbrush or something? I feel so gross.”

He sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “I’ll see what we have in the closet. Try not to fall.”

He disappeared out the door, leaving you to sit on the edge of his mattress fighting the urge to lay down and burrow yourself into his sheets. He was back a minute later, holding up a spare toothbrush still in its packaging and a small packet of makeup wipes.

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wow, Wonwoo. Prepared for any late-night guests, are we?”

He rolled his eyes, tossing the items onto the bed next to you. “Don’t get any ideas. They’re probably from one of Seokmin or Mingyu’s… visits. I’m not the only one who lives here, you know.”

“Right… right…” you grinned, grabbing the stuff and hauling yourself from the bed. “Blame it on the roommates.”

When you returned from the bathroom, face clean and teeth brushed,Wonwoo was already in bed, propped up against the headboard. He looked devastatingly hot, especially with the way his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. The soft glow of the tv illuminated the room, playing some old cartoon from when you were kids. He turned the volume down low.

“Background noise,” he explained when you finally slid into the covers. “Helps me sleep.”

You hummed in response, snuggling into his side. The warmth of his body, the low drone of the tv, the comfort of the bed, it was perfect.

Though, the alcohol that still remained in your system had other ideas. You shifted closer to him than necessary, pressing a small kiss to the side of his neck, your hand trailing down his chest.

“You know,” you whispered, voice low and suggestive, “I know what we can do to sleep real good tonight.”

Wonwoo let out a long, tired groan, catching your wandering hand before it could go any further. “Nope,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

You pouted, pulling your hand back with a huff. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm around you anyway, pulling you closer. “Now sleep.”

You grumbled but still settled against him, the rise and fall of his chest effectively lulling you into a deep sleep.

You woke up a few hours later. The room was still cast in the flickering light of the tv. Some late-night infomercial was playing, though you couldn’t really hear much of what was being said. A glance at your phone on the nightstand told you it was a little after three.

And you desperately had to pee.

This was horrible. The bed was a perfect cocoon of warmth, Wonwoo practically turned into your personal human radiator by this point. Leaving seemed like an impossible task, but you had to go. With a quiet sigh, you started to carefully extract yourself from his limbs.

The moment you moved, he stirred. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. “No,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Stay.”

“I have to pee,” you whispered, trying to wiggle free from his grasp.

“Don’t go,” he whined, burying his face in your hair. “It’s gonna be so cold without you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his clinginess. “I’ll be right back. Two minutes, I promise.”

He grumbled in protest but finally loosened his grip enough for you to slip away. True to your word, you were back in under two minutes, slipping into the now cold spot beside him.

He immediately wrapped himself around you again. “Took you forever,” he complained into your shoulder. “I almost froze to death.”

“Oh, you’re such a big baby,” you teased, turning in his arms to face him. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Better now?”

He hummed in approval, his eyes still closed. But the kiss… combined with the close proximity reignited the heat from earlier. The sleepy haze in your mind lifted just enough for that familiar, throbbing ache to return. 

“I can think of an even better way to get warm…” you murmured against his mouth, pressing your hips against his.

Wonwoo’s eyes flew open once he sensed where this was going, letting out a pained groan in the process. “Are you serious? Go back to sleep you fiend.”

You giggled at his reaction. 

Eventually, you both dozed off once again.

The next time you woke up, the pale gray light of the early morning was beginning to filter through the curtains. The tv was off this time, leaving the room in a heavy, ringing silence. You squinted, a dull, rhythmic throb behind your eyes reminding you of how much you drank the night before.

Wonwoo had spent a good portion of the night making sure you stayed somewhat hydrated and alive, but the hangover was still there which was annoying but deserved.

You glanced over at your phone for the time, it was seven in the morning. But that wasn’t what had gotten your attention originally. 

It was the way something hard was pressing up against your ass.

A slow, wicked grin spread across your face, momentarily distracting you from the headache. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. You shifted back ever so slightly, experimentally pressing your hips against him. He stirred in his sleep, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his arm around your waist instinctively pulled you closer to him.

This was just too good to ignore.

You began to move again, a slow, deliberate grind against his length. You kept the movements small and subtle, just enough to provide a delicious amount of friction. He started to stir more, hips beginning to move unconsciously, meeting your slow rhythm. A low groan rumbled from his chest. This went on for a few blissful minutes until, with a sharp inhale, he woke up completely.

His hand stopped your hips from moving any further. “You’re actually evil,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep and arousal.

You rolled over to face him, a triumphant smirk on your face. “Morning to you, too. Seems like someone’s happy to see me.”

He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it.”You’ve been like this all night. Aren’t you tired?”

“Nope,” you lied, emphasizing the ‘p’. You trailed your finger down his chest, leaning in close to his ear. “Though… I do think I’m sober enough for you to fuck me now.”

A shiver ran through him, and he closed his eyes for a good second, as if gathering up all his strength. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss him this time. He kissed you back, a deep, hungry kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. “I’m not kidding,” you said impatiently. “I’ve been wanting this ever since I saw you in those stupid glasses.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know. But I’m not going to rush this just because you’re being impatient.” He pushed you gently onto your back, hovering over you now. The shift in position made your head throb once, but the way his weight was settling between your thighs seemed to distract you from the discomfort. “I’m gonna take my sweet time with you, Birdy.”

You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “But I’m ready, Woo, please…”

He chuckled. “Oh, I know you think you are,” he murmured, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweatpants. “But first, I want another taste.”

He didn’t wait for a response, slowly tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He settled between your now bare thighs, his gaze dark and hungry.

He pushed your thighs further apart, settled between them, and then his mouth was on you. He started off strong, his tongue flat and firm against your clit, licking a broad, devastating stripe that made your back arch off the bed. You gasped, your hands flying straight to his hair. He wasn’t gentle; he was savoring you, his movements precise and punishing. It was exactly what you deserved for not shutting up all night.

He brought one hand up, pressing it firmly on your lower abdomen, holding you down against the bed. The pressure was intoxicating, grounding the floaty, hungover feeling in your head and concentrating everything right where he wanted it. You could feel your release building up, tight and hot.

His speed picked up, his tongue flicking rapidly against your most sensitive spot. Your legs started to shake, your thighs trying to close around his head from the overwhelming stimulation. He grunted in frustration, using his free hand to forcefully pry your legs open, holding them wide open.

In the middle of it all, right when you felt like you were on the edge of seeing stars, he reached up to where your hands were and laced his fingers with yours. It was such an intimate gesture, a stark contrast to the overwhelming pleasure he was making you feel.

“Wonwoo… I’m… I’m gonna…” you gasped, your fingers tightening around his.

And then… he stopped.

He pulled his mouth away completely, lifting his head. The sudden absence of stimulation was a physical shock, a cold wave crashing over you. Your eyes flew open, and you stared down at him in disbelief. “What…?” you breathed, your body still humming with pleasure that now had nowhere to go.

He just looked up at you, a dark, knowing smirk on his glistening lips. He said nothing. He just watched you as your orgasm receded, leaving behind a hollow, desperate ache.

A frustrated whimper escaped your throat, and to your utter mortification, your eyes started to sting. “You… you can’t be serious,” you choked out, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye and tracing a path down your temple. “Why would you do that?”

He finally moved, but not to resume. He shifted up, his fingers replacing his tongue as he slowly, deliberately pushed one inside you. Your body clenched around the intrusion, a desperate attempt to find friction. “Because,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he began to slowly pump his finger, “you spent all night teasing me. I feel like it’s only fair that you go through what I felt all night.”

You rolled your eyes in irritation, dropping your head back onto the pillow. “It’s not the same! I at—”

He cut you off, shifting up your body in one swift motion and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was demanding, his way of telling you to shut up without needing to actually say anything. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of where he had just been. He kissed you until your frustration melted away into a desperate, pliant need, only then did he pull back and move back between your legs.

He added a second finger, stretching you further, scissoring them inside you. The stretch was a dull, pleasant ache, but it wasn’t enough. It was a cruel parody of what you actually needed. “Please, Wonwoo,” you whined, grinding your hips down onto his hand. “Please, let me cum.”

“Not yet,” he said simply, adding a third finger. The stretch was now significant, a burning sensation that mingled with the desperate need. He was opening you up, preparing you, and the thought of what he was preparing you for made you even wetter. He leaned back down, and you thought he was finally going to let you have it, but instead, he just blew a cool stream of air over your clit, making you jolt.

He went back to work, a devastating combination of his fingers curling inside you, pressing against that spot that made you see white, and his tongue returning to your clit with maddeningly light flicks. It was a relentless, calculated assault. The tension built again, even stronger this time. You were so close, the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful. You tried to stay quiet, remembering his roommates, but a choked moan escaped your lips. You grabbed a pillow from beside you and pressed it over your face, muffling the cries you couldn’t hold back.

In a flash, Wonwoo’s free hand ripped the pillow away. “No,” he asserted, his voice firm. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you cry for me.”

The vulnerability of being so completely exposed, of having no choice but to let him hear every sound he pulled from you, sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you peaked, your vision going white, your body tensing as you finally, finally hurtled towards the edge.

And he stopped again.

He pulled his fingers out and lifted his head, leaving you empty and trembling. A sob of pure frustration tore from your throat. This time, you couldn’t stop the tears. They flowed freely now, hot tracks of desperation on your face.

“You’re an asshole,” you cried, your voice cracking.

He laughed, a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through you. He hovered over you, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I told you. Payback.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “How does it feel, Birdy? To be so desperate but not be able to do anything about it?”

That was it. That was the breaking point. The playful teasing, the edging, the frustration—it all fused into a single, burning need. You were done playing games.

You used every ounce of strength you had to shove him, surprising him enough that he rolled onto his back. You scrambled over him, straddling his waist, hair a wild mess around your face.

“I’m done,” you panted, hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. “I’m done with your stupid torture. I need you inside me. Now.”

You yanked his sweatpants and boxers down in one rough motion, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach. He was leaking precum, the tip flushed a deep, angry red. He was so ready for you, and it only fueled your desperation.

You started to sink down onto him, but his hands shot out, gripping your hips and stopping you. “Wait,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “Raw? Are you sure?”

“I don’t care,” you said instantly, your voice ragged. “Are you clean?”

He stared up at you, his chest heaving, his eyes searching yours. He saw the raw, unfiltered need there, and something in him snapped. “Yes,” he rasped. “I’m clean.”

“Then shut up,” you ordered, and you sank down onto him.

The stretch burned in the most exquisite way, a deep, full pressure that stole your breath. He was bigger than you anticipated, and the feeling of him filling you so completely was overwhelming. You took it slow, your body adjusting inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You collapsed forward, your forehead resting on his chest, your body trembling.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained, his hands stroking your back soothingly.

You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself up, a slow, wicked grin spreading across your face. You smacked his chest, right over his heart.

“You’re so big,” you said with awe.

You looked down between your bodies, where you were joined, and saw the mess of pre-cum on his stomach. “And look at you,” you teased, rocking your hips experimentally. “You’re all worked up from just eating me out…”

He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, can you please move?”

You hummed while you pretended to think about his request. “Only if you take your shirt off.”

Wonwoo sighed in annoyance, briskly shifting his torso upward to pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion before reaching out to tug firmly on the hem of yours. You huffed in amusement before pulling the fabric over your head. Wonwoo’s gaze immediately zeroed in on your chest, muttering out a low ‘fuck’ at the sight in front of him.

Pleased with his obedience, you started to move. It was slow at first, a deliberate roll of your hips that had you both gasping. You found a rhythm, increasing your speed, your hands braced on his chest. The feeling was heavenly, the drag of him inside you hitting all the right spots. Wonwoo’s hands were everywhere, roaming up your back, tangling in your hair, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you cry out.

He was getting vocal, low groans and curses spilling from his lips as you bounced on his cock. He was completely gone, lost in the pleasure, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He looked utterly fucked out.

The sight sent a jolt through you, making your pussy gripped his cock tighter. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he lifted his hips up to meet each one of your vile bounces. But the relentless pace was starting to take its toll on your energy—your thighs were burning, your movements were becoming sloppy.

Wonwoo sensed it immediately.

In one smooth, powerful motion, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug—pulling you flush against his chest. Your movements faltered as you collapsed against him, panting. He held you for a split second, face buried in your neck, and then he planted his feet firmly on the bed.

He started fucking up into you with a force you’ve never experienced before. The new angle was devastating. He was hitting deeper, harder, his hips snapping up with a brutal rhythm. All you could do was hold on, your arms wrapping around his neck as your body was completely overwhelmed by his.

The headboard slammed against the wall with a rhythmic, damning thud. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your combined moans and groans. There was no way the others couldn’t hear you but Wonwoo didn’t seem to care. He’d heard Mingyu and Seokmin enough times. It was his turn if anything.

One of his hands left your waist, sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. His other hand roamed lower, gripping your ass possessively before he delivered a sharp, stinging smack. The sound echoed in the room, and the jolt of pain turned pleasure that shot through you made your pussy clench around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned. Wonwoo did it again, harder this time, leaving a warm, tingling imprint on your skin. “You like that, don’t you, Birdy?”

You could only moan in response, your mind going blank as he shifted his grip. His hand moved from your ass to your chest, groping your breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple between them. He pinched hard, sending a sharp jolt straight to your clit. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive area between your neck and shoulder—not kissing—but biting you. He was leaving his claim all over your body, and the possessiveness of it all sent you spiraling.

You were completely at his mercy, he held you tight in his embrace as he chased your high. The coil in your stomach tightened to an impossible degree, the pleasure so sharp and intense it was almost blinding. “Won— I’m—” you choked out, nails digging into his shoulders.

Wonwoo could only grunt in response, as he continued to buck up into your heat. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your entire body convulsed, your pussy clamping down around his cock as waves of pleasure wash over you. Despite your overstimulated cries, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm—hips never faltering.

He followed you over the edge a moment later with a guttural groan, burying himself deep inside you as he came, his warmth flooding all of your senses. He stilled, his body a heavy, comforting weight against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“You okay?” He asked as he stroked your arm in soothing circles. You could only nod in response, your mind was still reeling from all the pleasure.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, a tangled, sweaty heap. But it didn’t last long before he was moving again, his energy seemingly endless. In one fluid motion, he pulled out and flipped you over with surprising strength. He grabbed your hips, pulling your ass up until you were on your knees, face down into his pillows.

You barely had a second to process the new position before he was slamming back into you, the new position hitting a devastating angle.

He just chuckled. “What’s wrong, Birdy?” he taunted, his hips starting a new rhythm. “You were so desperate for me earlier, begging me to fuck you. Are you gonna tap out on me after just one round?”

You wanted to snap back, tell him to go to hell, but you couldn’t form a single coherent though. All you could do was feel the way he was filling you up again.

He set a harsh pace, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises. It wasn’t long before you both reached the edge again, bodies still feeling the effects of the last round. He reached over, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles. That was all you needed. Your orgasm crashed over you again, a blinding all-consuming release that had you crying out his name. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own end.

He came with a raspy groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You felt the hot spurts of his release and you instinctively pushed back against him—milking him of what was left. After a beat or so, Wonwoo let himself fall on top of you, the sensitivity finally hitting him.

For a long moment, you just lay there, feeling the pleasant, bone-deep ache in your muscles and the comforting weight of him still inside you. You could feel his heartbeat, a wild thrum against your back, slowly beginning to calm.

He started to shift, preparing to pull out, but you panicked, your hand shooting back to grab his hip, holding him in place. “No,” you breathed, the word muffled by the pillow. “Don’t. Not yet.”

He stilled, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice a low, raspy vibration against your skin. “I won’t.”

You weren’t ready for it to be over. For the connection to be broken. The thought of him leaving you empty now was unbearable. You needed a minute, just one more minute, to memorize the feeling of being this full, this connected.

But as your breathing evened out and the post-orgasmic haze settled, a new awareness crept in. The sticky mess between your thighs, the sweat cooling on your skin, the lingering taste of him in your mouth. It was glorious, but it was also gross.

“We need a shower,” you mumbled into the pillow.

Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, but he made no move to get up. “In a minute.”

That minute stretched into two, then five. You were drifting in a state of blissful exhaustion, halfway to sleep, when you felt it. A slow, deliberate roll of Wonwoo’s hips against your ass. He was still inside you, and he was getting hard again.

Your eyes fluttered open. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered, a disbelieving laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, his lips tracing the line of your spine. “Why are you surprised?" he murmured, his voice already thick with renewed desire. “You’re the one that asked me to stay inside of you.”

He rolled his hips again, a slow, deep grind that had you gasping. It was a lazy, possessive movement, a stark contrast to the frantic pace from before.

“Again?” you asked, your voice laced with awe and a burgeoning excitement. You were sore but your body was already responding to his lazy thrusts, a familiar heat blooming low in your belly.

“Just one more time,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. He slowly, carefully pulled out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He flipped you over onto your back, his eyes roaming over your body—your flushed skin, the marks he’d left on your neck and chest, the mess between your legs. He looked hungry, like a predator admiring his kill.

He settled between your thighs, not entering you yet, just resting his cock against your slick folds. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It wasn’t frantic or demanding; it was lazy, thorough, a kiss that was meant to be savored. He was tasting you, claiming you all over again.

“Your greed sickens me,” you quipped against his mouth, your hands tangling in his messy hair.

“You started it,” he countered, but he was smiling. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. “This time, though… we’re going slow.”

He reached down, lining himself up with your entrance, and then he pushed inside, excruciatingly slowly. You were already so sensitive, so thoroughly used, that every inch was a potent, overwhelming sensation. You felt every ridge, every vein of him as he filled you. He watched your face intently, his gaze dark and focused, as if memorizing your every reaction.

When he was finally fully seated, he paused, letting you adjust. “Okay?” he asked softly.

You could only nod, your throat too tight to form words.

He started to move, a slow, languid rhythm that was somehow more intense than the brutal pace from before. Every thrust was deep, deliberate, grinding against your A-spot in a way that made your toes curl. There was no urgency now. This wasn’t about chasing a quick release; this was about drawing out the pleasure, about savoring every single second.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts, stroking your sides, gripping your hips to pull you deeper onto his cock. He was everywhere. He leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue lazily exploring your mouth, matching the rhythm of his hips.

You were completely lost in it, in him. The room, the apartment, the world outside—it all faded away. There was only Wonwoo, the weight of his body on yours, the slow, deep drag of his cock inside you, and the low, encouraging sounds he made in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “So perfect, taking me so well.”

His praise sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles at the small of his back, urging him deeper. He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his thrusts becoming a little harder, a little faster.

The slow burn was building again, but this time it was different. It wasn't a sharp, explosive peak waiting to happen; it was a slow, creeping tide, rising gradually, threatening to drown you in pleasure. You could feel it in your trembling limbs, in the way your breath hitched, in the desperate, needy sounds you couldn’t stop making.

“Wonwoo,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “I… I can’t…”

“I know,” he grunted, his own rhythm starting to falter. “Let go for me, baby.”

He reached down between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He didn’t rub it frantically; he just pressed down, applying slow, and firm flicks as he continued to thrust into you. The slow tide peaked and your orgasm washed over you, a long, rolling wave of pleasure that seemed to go on forever. You cried out his name, your body arching against his as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

He groaned your name like a prayer, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his own release pulsing deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm, and you held him tight, your arms wrapped around his back, your hearts beating in tandem.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity, basking in the afterglow. The sun was higher now, casting a bright, golden glow around the room. The sounds of the apartment were starting to stir—distant cupboard doors closing, the low rumble of a voice in the living room. That’s going to be a problem for later.

Finally, Wonwoo lifted his head, his eyes soft and sated. “Okay,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now we really need to shower.”

You hummed in agreement, though you didn’t feel like moving yet. The adrenaline was draining out of you as each second passed and with that, your limbs began to feel like lead.

Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh, but he didn’t argue. He shifted, slowly and carefully pulling out of you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, a feeling you were already starting to hate. He grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, gently cleaning you up before tossing them in the trash. He pulled the blanket over your tangled bodies, settling back onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to look at you.

“Five minutes,” he echoed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You felt the gentle weight of his arm drape over your waist, pulling you just a little closer. The sounds of the apartment faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing and his heartbeat.

Five minutes was all you needed before facing the world.

Or maybe ten.

“I love them,” you grin, rotating your wrists so the light catches every glossy detail. “And thank you, again. You really didn’t have to, you know. You already spoiled me so much for Christmas.”

Seungcheol reaches over, fingers brushing your knuckles, casual but unmistakably pleased. “Mm… but I wanted to.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but the way his thumb lingers gives him away.

He then reaches over, tugs your seatbelt into place for you like it’s second nature. Princess treatment like always, no questions asked.

As he pulls away from the curb, you’re already snapping pictures—too many at this point. You move your hands, adjust the lighting, hold your hands dramatically like they deserve their own spotlight.

“You’re gonna run out of storage,” he comments, amused as ever. He glances over at you before returning his attention to the road.

The rest of the drive passes comfortably, filled with your quiet excitement and the soft hum of the car.

By the time you get home, you’re still buzzing. Shoes are kicked off, coats discarded, and the two of you are finally able to settle onto the couch.

You curl in beside him, still turning your hands this way and that, admiring them like you haven’t already spent the entire drive doing exactly that. Seungcheol watches for a moment, expression unreadable, before reaching out.

He takes your hand—pulling it close to his face again. He turns your wrist slowly, inspecting your new set like it’s fine art.

His thumb drags over the edge of your nail, slow enough to make your stomach flutter. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“I like being able to spoil you,” he continues. “And I like when you look like this. All happy and cute.”

You take that as an invitation.

Another beat passes before you lean closer, hands resting against his firm chest. “So… you admit it.”

He arches a brow. “Admit what?”

“That you have a thing for my hands.”

He scoffs but doesn’t deny it. Instead, his mouth curves into a knowing smile, already used to your antics. “I have a thing for you. Your hands just happen to be part of the package.”

You hum, pleased, letting your hands trail down his shirt—nails grazing deliberately, just enough to test him. “How convenient.”

He catches your wrist gently. “You’re poking.”

“But, you like when I poke,” you reply sweetly, shifting closer to him, your knee brushing his thigh. Your other hand settles there, casual but intentional.

He exhales through his nose, amused.

He watches you for a second longer than necessary. “You done?”

You glance down at your hands like you’re considering it seriously. Then you look up at him, lips curving up slow and sweet.

“Maybe for now,” you say. “I don’t think I got enough pictures though.”

He snorts. “Didn’t you already take like fifty?”

“It’s not enough,” you groan. “I need different settings, different moods!”

You shift even closer, deliberately resting your hands on his thigh this time. Your nails catch just enough to make his attention sharpen, his posture subtly changing beneath you.

“I was thinking,” you add, voice light, “they might look even better if they were… occupied.”

His eyes lift from your hands to your face. “Occupied with what exactly?”

You blink at him, all innocent. “I don’t know. Holding something, maybe? Something you seem very attached to.”

There’s a beat. Then he laughs—low, disbelieving. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I?” You tilt your head. “You already paid for the nails. It feels wasteful not to use them properly.”

He studies you for a moment, then shakes his head with a quiet laugh.

You smile, already standing and reaching for his hand. “Come on.”

“And just where are we going?” he asks, even as he lets you pull him up.

As if he doesn’t know the answer to that question…

You tug him toward the hallway, excitement barely contained. “Somewhere with better lighting.”

The bedroom door clicks shut behind you, soft and final.

You go straight to the drawer, no hesitation.

Seungcheol sits on the edge of your shared bed, watching you the entire time. His posture is relaxed, arms folding loosely as he watches you pull the camera out, handling it with care like it’s something precious. Because to him, it is.

You turn around and hold it out to him.

He takes it from you without a word, fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary. The look he gives you is sharp, entertained—like he already knows how everything is going to turn out.

He turns the camera on, lifting it easily, gaze meeting yours through the viewfinder.

“You ready?” he asks.

You nod, already stepping closer towards him. You slowly drop to your knees as the camera follows your every move. Your nails skim over the buckle of his belt, slow and intentional, just to feel the way his patience falters.

“You like when I do this,” you murmur.

He scoffs softly.

You unbuckle his belt, unhurried, eyes never leaving his. The sound is quiet but unmistakable. Familiar. Your hands dip lower, grazing the zipper of his jeans.

Seungcheol exhales, head tipping back a fraction. One hand comes to your wrist—not to stop you, just to steady you. Guide you if anything.

“Camera,” he reminds you, voice low.

You smile, sweet and satisfied, and glance at it once before looking back at him. “Right. I wouldn't want to forget.”

He raises it, already lining the shot up the way he likes, eyes flicking between the viewfinder and you.

Slipping your hands into his boxers, you gradually slip his leaky cock out of its confines. He was already hard from your touch. How pretty.

You wrap your hand around the base—your grip small, nails neat and delicate where they have no business being.

“That’s it,” he groans out. “Hold it… right there.”

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your arms hovered uncertainly around his waist.

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

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

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

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

With a deep sigh, you returned the gesture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoying yourself, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh, there he goes!

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very,” you agreed almost instantly.

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

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

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

You blinked, your breath catching. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows furrowed. Huh?

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

“A little rain never hurt anyone.”

You sighed. What an idiot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh.

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

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

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

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

He raised a brow. “This yours?”

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

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

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

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

“That’s a lot better,” he admitted. 

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned. “And…?”

“I plead the fifth!”

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

Your face burned. “That’s not—”

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

Your breath hitched.

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

But you didn’t move.

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

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

You swallowed hard. “You’re so—”

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

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

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

And God, he kissed like he meant it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then came a sharp knock at the door.

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

Your heart pounded in fear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe all of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About?”

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

Your chest tightened at his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You quickly nod, needing him now more than ever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday.

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

…

Part Four: Coming Soon…

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

Huh.

You clear your throat. “I see we’re being analyzed again.”

Florence only snorts.

Which is an understandable reaction by now. It feels as if there is a new article released every day, criticizing your generation’s modern-day woman. It’s amusing in a way, seeing how strongly the older generations feel about the youth and their “incorrigible” ways.

You settle deeper into your chair and continue reading the article.

This one seems to be a bit more reasonable at times. At least they want to understand us this time, you think.

“Besides, during the Victorian era, she served an unusually long bondage to the domestic virtues…” Your voice trails off.

The sentence makes you pause for a moment—you tilt your head slightly, considering it.

Florence notices the unusual silence on your end. “Well?”

“The author isn’t entirely wrong,” you admit carefully.

You continue. “Shall we blame her if, seeing her opportunity, she takes her fling for a while and gives rein to the decorative and histrionic impulses of her nature?”

Florence lowers the volume on the wireless just enough for the music to fade into a soft, low hum.

She shifts herself towards you as she asks, “Do you agree with him?”

You don’t answer her immediately. You run your finger along the margin of the page, rereading the sentence in your head.

Another beat passes.

“I think,” you say slowly, “he believes he’s being generous.”

Florence only huffs at your statement.

“No, listen,” you insist, leaning forward. “He’s not condemning her. He’s not entirely calling her foolish or immoral. He’s saying that after centuries of being told her entire worth resided in obedience and modesty… perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised if she wants to be seen.”

She studies you for a moment.

“You’re being quite understanding today.”

“I am always understanding,” you huff out. “I don’t see what’s so terrible about wanting to enjoy one’s youth.”

That gets a giggle out of her. “You do enjoy yours, don’t you?”

You glance up at her, one brow lifting.

Florence grins. “You’re practically the bee’s knees at every social function Moonridge hosts.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous now.”

But you know what she means.

You’ve always drawn attention wherever you go.

Although it has never felt like power to you. If anything, it has felt… inevitable. Almost predictable in a way.

You return your gaze to the article.

“Beauty as the whole duty of women,” you read quietly. “That part I dislike.”

Florence tilts her head. “Why?”

“Because it suggests that even our freedom must be decorative.”

You close the magazine gently and let it rest on your desk.

“I don’t mind being admired,” you continue, “I simply don’t want admiration to be the only language addressed to me.”

Florence watches you with that knowing look—the one that says she understands more than she lets on.

But before she can respond, the door suddenly flies open, rattling the wall on impact.

Irene stands there, cheeks pink from running.

“Please tell me you’re ready,” she says breathlessly.

Florence straightens at her tone. “What have we forgotten now?”

“The mixer,” Irene says. “With Ashbourne. We promised Mrs. Abernathy we’d help set up. She’ll have our heads if we’re late.”

You glance at the mantle clock.

Oh.

Florence groans dramatically. “I didn’t even get to finish sewing my blouse!”

You snicker at her dilemma.

“Darling, you could wear a potato sack to the mixer and you would still have a line of men wanting to talk to you.” You remarked as you stood up from the desk and smoothed your skirt over.

Florence rolls her eyes in response.

“Come on, we’ll be late!” Irene cries out, hand tugging at your wrist.

“I don’t see why my punctuality is such a community concern,” you grimace.

“Because,” Florence says, already grabbing at your other wrist, “half of the boys across the avenue attend these things in hopes you’ll grace them with ten minutes of your time.”

You sigh.

“That is precisely why I wasn’t in a hurry.”

The gymnasium has been transformed with an enthusiasm that borders on excessive.

Paper lanterns hang from the rafters, glowing softly against the high beams. Streamers loop along the walls, each one placed with meticulous care. It is all very earnest. Ambitious even. Too much care, if you had any say in it.

You arrive just in time to help adjust centerpieces and align the chairs into straight, disciplined rows. This part is usually the only one you find yourself enjoying; no eager men to bother you yet.

By the time the doors officially open, the four of you look less like volunteers and more like the evening’s main attraction.

The young men from Ashbourne file in shortly after, jackets neatly pressed, and hair styled with annoying precision. They stand stiffly at first, clustered near the entrance as if uncertain where to situate themselves.

Florence laughs first, enjoying the awkward view in front of her. Irene waves at a particular group of boys. Lillian whispers something wicked that makes you hide a smile.

It begins like it always does.

Introductions are made, names are exchanged, and compliments are delivered with that same careful, rehearsed cadence you’ve grown very accustomed to.

Your group eventually spreads out—each one of your friends already having particular men or groups to talk to.

And you?

You are surrounded.

It happens at every mixer. The music swells, the men grow braver, and suddenly the room reorganizes itself into groups orbiting whichever young woman has most recently declared “quite exceptional”.

Tonight, unfortunately, that young woman seems to be you.

“Miss—may I have the next dance?”

“You look quite radiant this evening.”

“I was hoping to secure at least one waltz before the night concludes—”

With a polite smile, you incline your head graciously. You decline two dances with gentle regret and accept one with equal courtesy. The waltz is tolerable. The fox-trot is less so.

One gentleman with too much pomade attempts to monopolize your attention, leaning too close for your comfort.

“You’ve been difficult to secure all evening.”

“So it seems,” you reply pleasantly.

“I was warned I’d have to be swift if I wanted a chance.”

You smile without any real warmth to it. “We’ll have to see about that.”

He laughs, but there’s a faint trace of irritation beneath it. He does not seem to enjoy your ambiguity.

Another tries to wedge himself into the conversation. A third hovers.

You feel the familiar tightening in your smile—not distress, yet, but the quiet calculation of how to remove yourself without appearing rude eats at you. You had hoped to slip into the background tonight. Wishful thinking.

It is not unpleasant, exactly. It’s something you’re used to already, but it sure can get repetitive.

You begin planning your escape. A headache would suffice. Perhaps a prior obligation even?

But just as you draw breath to excuse yourself, a new voice cuts through the group.

“Gentleman!” A warm voice cuts in, light but firm.

The circle jolts.

You turn toward the intruder.

He stands just outside the cluster, hands loosely clasped behind his back. His expression is quite… pleasant.

There is nothing confrontational about him. Nothing aggressive either. And yet, the other men straighten at the sound of his voice.

One weakly clears his throat. “We were simply—”

“Conversing,” He supplied helpfully. “Yes, I gathered that from all of the overlapping.”

You try to fight back a smile.

The pomade enthusiast to your left bristles. “And you are?”

“Temporarily concerned,” the newcomer replies easily, gesturing toward the formation around you. “About ventilation.”

There is a brief pause as the comment settles.

“Ventilation?” Someone repeats.

“Yes,” he says gravely. “If one more gentleman joins this formation, we may require permits.”

A strangled laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

The tension fractures. Two of the boys step back, embarrassed. Another one mutters something about securing refreshments. The remainder of the group disperse with wounded dignity, eager to pretend that they had never been part of such an arrangement.

Space. Finally.

You find yourself exhaling in relief.

The newcomer finally looks at you properly. His expression shifts from mischievous to something more sheepish.

“I hope that wasn’t presumptuous,” he says. “You looked as though you were one second away from bursting.”

You stare at him for a moment, deciding whether or not he’s one of them.

Though there’s something about his smile that tells you he didn’t act out of pure interest.

“Was it that obvious?”

His shoulders relax at your response.

“You would have to be blindfolded to not see that mess.”

You laugh at that.

But you also notice a few things.

He hasn’t offered his hand. Nor has he implied that you owe him any gratitude.

He simply stands there, as though this were the most natural exchange in the world.

You tilt your head. “Any other observations?”

He thinks for a second before replying.

“You possess admirable stamina,” he says without any hesitation. “Most would have escaped by now.”

You nod. “I was considering it.”

You study him more closely now.

His suit is well-pressed but not ritzy. His tie is slightly off-center. His hair is neat but not lacquered into submission like some of the other men do. And… there’s a faint dimple when he smiles.

You decide to continue the conversation.

“And what method of escape would you have recommended?”

“The refreshment table is too exposed,” he says thoughtfully. “The doors are heavily trafficked as well. I would suggest moving closer to the piano. No one lingers there unless they intend to sing.”

You stare at him in astonishment.

“You’ve thought this through.”

He’s quick to reply. “I prefer to understand my surroundings.”

The jazz surges into a faster tempo. Couples swirl past, skirts brushing, polished shoes gliding across the floor.

“You haven’t asked me to dance,” you observe.

“I have not.”

“Why not?”

He does not answer immediately. Instead, he watches a pair nearly collide on the floor before speaking.

“You did not seem eager to accept the previous invitations.” He answers.

“That has never stopped anyone before.”

“It seemed redundant,” he murmured timidly. “You did not appear in need of another obligation.”

A slow smile spreads across your face.

“Very well,” you say. “Since you’ve saved the evening’s airflow, you may at least tell me your name.”

“Lee Seokmin.”

The name feels warm when you repeat it.

“And you are?”

You tell him your name.

Recognition flashes briefly across his face.

“I’ve heard of you,” he admits.

You squint your eyes at him. “…That sounds ominous.”

“You won a debate last spring,” he says quickly. “On women in academia.”

You stare at him again, stunned.

“You attended?”

“Yes.”

“And you remember it?” You ask him skeptically.

Seokmin shrugs, almost bashfully. “It was compelling.”

That sparks your interest.

“So… what do you study, Mr. Lee?”

“Literature.”

“Voluntarily?” You jest.

Laughter escapes him—the sound gathering the attention of a few students nearby.

“Yes. Voluntarily.”

“And what do you intend to do with it?”

“Teach, I hope.”

There is no bravado in his statement. No attempt to impress you with wealth or ambition. It’s refreshing.

“I’m sponsored,” he adds after a moment. “A friend of my father’s insisted I apply. I consider myself very fortunate.”

You pause.

That sort of admission is rare in rooms like this. Most men from prestigious universities like his prefer to show off their lineage. It must be challenging for him at times.

“That’s admirable,” you say.

“It’s generous,” he corrects gently. “I don’t intend to waste it.”

Something in your chest shifts.

The conversation flows after that. Easily.

You speak of your desire to become a librarian as well as the infuriating limitations placed upon your college’s access to certain texts.

“I find it ridiculous,” you confess, lowering your voice slightly, “that we’re still deemed too delicate for certain volumes.”

“I agree,” he says immediately.

You blink.

“Yes, I believe access should not be restricted by gender.”

The simplicity of it catches you off guard. There’s no argument or teasing dismissal.

Just a simple agreement.

A familiar voice interrupts—a young man you once allowed to walk you home twice before deciding that he bored you.

“Am I interrupting something here?”

“Yes,” you reply instantly.

He hesitates.

“You promised me the second dance.”

“I don’t recall promising anyone a dance.”

His mouth opens and then shuts.

“I’m afraid I’m occupied at the moment,” you add.

He retreats, slightly wounded from the interaction.

Seokmin watches the exchange with faint amusement.

“You’re quite formidable,” he says lightly.

You give him a weak glare. “He is fortunate I was gracious enough to spare him. One should know better than to interrupt a conversation.”

He smiles at that.

Time slips by again without either of you noticing. The music fades into softer numbers. Nearby conversations dwindle.

When Irene eventually appears at your elbow, eyebrows raised playfully, you glance toward the clock and realize the evening has nearly ended.

“We must go,” she whispers.

Already?

You turn back to Seokmin.

“I volunteer at Ode & Quill’s bookstore on Thursdays,” you say, as casually as you can manage. “If… you ever wish to continue our discussion.”

His expression brightens in a way that feels earnest.

“I would like that.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Lee.” You say as you head toward your friend group, offering him a polite wave.

“Goodnight.” He waves back.

As you leave, Florence nudges you.

You can already presume what she wants to discuss with you. Considering that you ended up talking to a man for the entire night, one might think you’ve finally taken a liking to someone.

You’re not sure if you even want to discuss it with anyone at the moment.

“You didn’t dance with him.” She states.

“Mhm.”

“But you spoke to him the entire night… what was that about?” She turns to look at you attentively.

“Nothing special.” You mutter out.

All three girls smile at your defensiveness.

You know exactly what they’re thinking, but you can’t deny that something has shifted tonight.

You’re just not entirely certain what it is or what to call it.

Silence fills the other side—of course.

After a few beats of agonizing silence, he finally opens the door. His hair is slightly disheveled from the effort he put into hiding whatever he was doing before you knocked.

“Hey,” he says, far too casual for your liking.

You lean against the frame, peering past him. His desk is suspiciously clean. Phone nowhere in sight. Weird. You return your gaze to him.

“You look like I just caught you watching porn,” you say, sliding past him into the room.

He chokes at that. “I—what? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re acting like a kid who just heard his parents pull into the driveway,” you say flatly, circling the room to see what he could be hiding. You sniff the air playfully. “And you’re acting weird. You haven’t locked this door since we first moved in.”

He huffs. “I just… needed to focus on something, you know?” He rubs the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eyes.

Right. You roll your eyes at the blatant lie.

“Okay… well, whatever you’re planning better be good,” you say as you grab what you originally came for, leaving your poor husband to simmer in the silence.

February 14th—Valentine’s Day.

After waiting through many grueling days filled with locked doors, urgent errands to the hardware store for “lightbulbs,” and hushed phone calls that almost always ended the second you walked into the room, the mystery had finally reached its breaking point.

You were used to more low-key Valentine’s celebrations like staying in and ordering takeout—it was something you both honestly preferred. You liked the quiet; he liked the lack of crowds. But as the sun began to dip below the skyline, it became clear that this year was going to be different.

When you walked into the bedroom, you found your husband looking devastatingly handsome in a simple white button-up. The top buttons were undone, and the sleeves were neatly rolled up to his forearms, showing off the watch you’d bought him for his last birthday. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror, trying to smooth out any small wrinkles in the fabric. He looked more nervous than he did on your actual wedding day.

“You’re wearing the watch I got you,” you noted, leaning against the doorframe with a small, knowing smile. “Does this have something to do with why you’ve been acting all weird lately?”

Jihoon jumped slightly, his hand flying to the watch face. He turned to face you, the stark white of his shirt making the slight flush on his cheeks stand out even more.

“Yeah, kind of,” he said sheepishly, clearing his throat to regain his composure. “I made a reservation for that restaurant you’ve been wanting to go to. It’s in two hours, so you should have enough time to get ready.”

You huffed in amusement, walking over to help him straighten his sleeves. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

It didn’t take long for you to get ready before you were on your way. The drive was quiet, filled with your combined playlist to help you settle into the night’s mood. Every now and then, you’d catch him nervously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel—a habit you hadn’t seen since you first started dating.

When he pulled up to the valet of the sleek restaurant you’d been eyeing for months, your heart did a little skip. You had even checked the website yourself a month ago, only to find openings all the way in April.

“I can tell you’ve been busy,” you commented as he came around to open your door. “How long have you been planning this date for?”

Jihoon offered a small, proud smirk, though his eyes still held a trace of that nervous shimmer. “Long enough that they recognize my phone number,” he admitted, tucking his hand into yours as he led you toward the entrance. “But to answer your question, since December. I only recently got weird about it because you kept snooping around.”

The restaurant was everything you’d imagined: dimly lit, elegant, and buzzing with the quiet chatter of a few other couples. Surprisingly, it wasn't too crowded for it being the holiday that it was. But as you approached the hostess stand, Jihoon didn’t wait for her to lead you into the main dining room. Instead, he gave his name, and she handed him a small, gold-trimmed keycard.

“Right this way, Mr. Lee,” she smiled, gesturing toward a private elevator tucked away in the back.

“Jihoon? Where are we going?” you whispered as the elevator doors slid shut, sealing the two of you in silence.

“The main floor is a bit… full,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I wanted us to be somewhere where it’s just the two of us.”

The elevator pinged, and the doors opened directly onto the rooftop. The cold February air hit you immediately, but it was softened by the glow of several tall space heaters standing around the deck. The entire space was draped in delicate fairy lights that mirrored the sprawling city lights below. It was breathtaking.

“You booked the entire rooftop?” you gasped, stepping out onto the deck.

“Just for a few hours,” he said, finally letting out the breath he’d been holding since January.

You walked around the rooftop, trying to take everything in. As you looked out at the skyline, you noticed something off to the side. Tucked away in a corner protected from the wind were two small easels. They were set up side-by-side, stocked with acrylics, a few jars of water, and two fresh canvases that looked inviting under the warm lights.

The memories of him locking himself away suddenly flashed through your mind. He had put so much time and effort into this.

“Jihoon…” you breathed, turning back to him. Your heart felt heavy with affection and admiration.

He walked over to the easels, his white shirt glowing in the evening light. He looked a little self-conscious as he played with one of the brushes. “I wanted to make our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple special for us,” he confessed, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

You walked over to him, pouting slightly as the sheer effort of his surprise started to make your eyes sting.

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled, though you were already wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jihoon laughed—a low, melodic sound that vibrated against your chest as he pulled you flush against him. “I told you I was working on something. I was making sure it was perfect for you.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. The nervous energy from the car had finally settled into something steady and warm.

“I love you,” he whispered, his gaze intense and sincere. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

“I love you too,” you replied, leaning closer to press a kiss to his lips.

As you both settled in, the city lights shimmering below, you realized the “grueling” weeks of secrecy were worth it. Between the gourmet dinner and the blank canvases, it was exactly what he’d worked so hard for—a night entirely dedicated to the love between the two of you.

☆ Omg and the sex? Absolutely nasty.

☆ Almost loses all self control when he sees your body in its full glory. Absolutely touching everything and anything as soon as he is within arms reach.

☆ Body worship is through the roof.

☆ Yunho is a simple guy, he just can’t help himself when he sees your boobs and ass.

☆ Loves being rough because then that means he gets to see your body jiggling from how hard he’s fucking you. Also loves marking you up, seeing his hand imprinted on your ass just spurs him on even more.

☆ Is down to do any position with you so as long as he can still see your beautiful body.

☆ Surprisingly enough, he can pick you up and manhandle you like it’s nothing. (You were definitely shocked the first time he lifted you off the ground)

☆ Would be honored to die in-between your thighs. There’s no better way to go out than by eating out the love of his life. If he could, he would just stay in-between your thighs for the rest of his life (it doesn’t even have to be sexual!).

☆ Also loves when you ride his face. Despite your apprehension, he will almost always need to make you cum this way first before actually getting down and dirty.

☆ He cannot honestly get enough of how much there is to grab when it comes to you. There’s been a few times where he just wants to stay still and become one with you.

☆ Absolutely spoils you with lingerie! Even though he prefers you naked most of the time, lingerie on your body just does something to him. There’s nothing better than coming home after a long day to seeing you waiting for him in lingerie, it’s like a reward honestly.

☆ Yunho just loves you so much, he doesn’t know what he would do without you being in his life.

Except tonight happened to be one of those nights.

You see, your family had just left your place a few hours ago. With the holidays coming and going, your family had begun to visit you more often.

Now you obviously loved your family, but man, did they get on your nerves.

Being the youngest amongst your siblings was becoming more difficult as the years passed by. Seeing them get married one by one definitely didn’t help with your case either.

Your mom started to fear for your so-called ‘future’. Which irritated you since you had everything you needed for the most part, that being a well-paying job and a nice place.

Which is exactly what happened today. Your parents (alongside your siblings) started asking you non-stop questions over your love life.

“Mom please don’t,” you tried to keep your tone respectful but it was getting difficult when you weren’t seeing an end to these invasive questions.

“What? All of your other siblings have gotten married… don’t you think that’s it’s time you do too?” Her tone was bordering a slight feeling of concern and stress.

You stayed quiet for a beat, trying to give her a response that would help get her off your back until the next time she saw you.

“We’ve talked about this, I’m not in a rush and surely it will-“ before you could finish your sentence your mom was already finishing it for you.

“-happen with time I know. But don’t you think you are being too picky at this point? Prince Charming doesn’t exist, so stop waiting for him.”

There it was.

Just because you didn’t date around didn’t mean that you were picky.

You just didn’t like wasting your time with the wrong people, that's all it was.

But before you could counter, one of your siblings quickly changed the subject before things eventually escalated into something worse.

And just like that, the rest of your evening had been soured by that single conversation with your mother.

Even hours after your family had left, you still felt bothered by your mother’s disapproving comments.

…

Needless to say, you called the only person who would be awake at one in the morning.

Wonwoo.

You and Wonwoo have been close friends for a few years, having first met in your senior year of college.

At first he was just an acquaintance, someone you thought you would see once in a while. But he somehow happened to be everywhere you were.

You don’t really remember how the two of you actually became friends, it could have been through a mutual friend or class that you shared. But ever since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

You might have had the tiniest crush on him too but you don’t really like thinking about that. You like to think you grew past that stage.

“yn? Is everything okay?” His voice was slightly groggy… shit you might have woken him up.

“Fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep? I’ll leave you-“

What was it with people cutting you off mid-sentence?

“-No I wasn’t. I actually just woke up from my nap, what’s up?”

Wonwoo and his naps. At this point they should not be called naps considering how long he sleeps for.

“Oh you know… just had the best talk with my family.”

You could hear him audibly smile. Wonwoo knew that you didn’t always have the best times with your family, having heard your countless rants throughout the years.

“What did they say this time?” He asked with faux enthusiasm.

“More like what did my mom say. She just kept asking me when I plan on getting married and that I should stop being picky.” As much as you tried to act nonchalant about it, you were really upset by the way things had turned out.

Wonwoo quickly took notice in your slightly wavering voice. It wasn’t normal for you to get emotional over small fights like this. It must have been serious enough for you to remain bothered even after your family had left.

“Hey, don’t take it to heart. I know your mom can say some out of pocket things but try to not let it get to you.” Wonwoo was not the best at comforting people, even he knew that, but he always tried his best to comfort you.

“I know but it’s so…. irritating? Like she told me to stop waiting for Prince Charming as if I’m a little kid.” You wanted to say more but once you started ranting you knew Wonwoo would not be able to keep up.

“I’ve told her so many times that I don’t want to waste my time with the wrong person. I don’t get how she doesn’t understand that!”

Relax. Just take a deep breath and wait for his response.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Even though Wonwoo had been over to your place a numerous amount of times, you still couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat race at the thought of him coming over.

“No, it’s okay I promise. I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

One thing you had learned about Wonwoo was that he was a bit assertive when he was concerned about you.

“Hmmm… doesn’t matter I’m coming over.”

It was always shocking to see him get this bold, seeing how reserved he was with everyone else.

“What was the point in asking then?” You tried sounding annoyed but you knew that your smile was very audible.

“Just wanted to make you feel like you had a choice.” You could hear his cockiness through the phone and somehow, it made your heart do somersaults.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be coming over?” Like always, you tried playing it cool, never wanting to show Wonwoo how his words got to you. Maybe he did notice, but if he did, he never said anything about it.

“Never… I’ll see you in ten.”

And just like that he ended the call.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like when he eventually got a girlfriend. Wonwoo is a good-looking guy, you’re surprised he hasn’t been snatched up yet. Not that you’re worried or anything, but… you know, things will surely change once he finds the one.

Maybe it was you being selfish, but you try to take advantage of the little time you have left before either one of you finds a partner. You know it’s bound to happen at some point, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

It actually took Wonwoo a little over thirty minutes to get to your place, which was weird considering you live pretty close to each other.

What was also weird was that he knocked. He never knocked anymore considering that he had a key to your place.

“Hey, what took you so-“ opening the door you were greeted with a slightly disheveled Wonwoo.

Oh.

Wonwoo’s hands were filled with plastic bags. You could see snacks poking out of through some of the bags and… regular groceries? What grocery store is open at this hour?

“Couldn’t come over empty handed.” He stated simply.

Before he stepped another foot you decided to help him with the load. You could imagine how tiring it must have been for him to carry the bags all the way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Seeing him like this felt oddly comforting. It looked like he was just returning home from a long day at work.

“You really didn’t have to Won…” As much as you liked to play it cool, you couldn’t help but swoon over his actions. It was hard to when he was just so caring.

“But I wanted to… everything I do is by my own will you know,” he softly smiled at you while ruffling your hair.

Before you were able to respond, he quickly offered you your favorite bag of chips.

“Sit down, I’ll put everything away.”

And just like that, he quickly went to work. It helped that he knew where everything went so it didn’t take him long before he joined you on the sofa.

“So… rough night?” He asked gently, despite being so bold through the phone. Seeing your defeated face always put a sour taste in his mouth, which made him more careful with his words.

“You could say that.” You tried to laugh it off, but he knew that you were bothered.

“I know dealing with your family is hard but just know that I’m always here for you.” He lightly grabbed your hands over to his, rubbing soft circles over your palms.

This always seemed to do the trick, seeing your tense shoulders drop into a more relaxed position.

“And I’m grateful for that Won… but sometimes it really gets to me you know?” You tried avoiding looking into his eyes because you knew that one look would break the dam building up in your eyes.

“Maybe she is right… maybe I am being too unreasonable. Like as much as I like to think that the right guy will come through one day… what if he doesn’t?”

This seemed to annoy Wonwoo. He never wanted to see you settle for less, because he knew that you deserved better.

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed your chin to make you look directly into his eyes.

“Never say that again. You should never settle for less. You know better than that.” He was obviously annoyed but not at you. He hated when others tried to make you take less than what you truly deserve.

His fingers on your chin stayed, making your skin slightly tingle from his touch.

As great as he was at comforting you, the thoughts of him someday not being able to be there for you started to cloud your mind. It was bound to happen, either you or Wonwoo would find someone and eventually stop hanging out. Wonwoo seemed to notice the shift in your sadness, eyes becoming glossy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he muttered softly.

“It’s nothing,” you weren’t sure if he actually heard your response since it was barely audible to you.

Wonwoo gave you that look. The one he always used when he wasn’t convinced by your responses. You didn't want to tell him about your fear because it would then expose your feelings for him. And that was one thing you could never risk, your friendship. No matter how strong your feelings would get, you couldn't let him become aware of them.

“Talk to me,” his eyes were pleading. He just wanted you to completely open up to him the way he did with you.

There was no way out of this. Obviously, you weren’t going to tell him the actual reason behind your sadness. You had to give him something to get him off your trail.

“Well, it’s just that sometimes it does feel lonely. And having my mom point out the obvious makes me feel like a lost cause. I’m also not getting any younger, so now I feel like I have to rush into something or else my ‘good’ years would have gone to waste…” While this wasn’t the actual thing that was bothering you tonight, it was at least something believable.

Wonwoo seemed to have bought it, since he stopped giving you those judging eyes. He stayed quiet, most likely trying to find the right thing to say.

He cleared his throat after a beat or so.

“Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something else bothering you, if you don’t want to tell me then just say that.”

How? How did he know you that you were lying?

Maybe this was your chance. Your chance to tell him how you felt about it because if you truly thought about it, there was no future with him either way. Either he rejects you or he finds someone, they both lead to you not being in his life in the future.

You took in deep breath, gathering all of your courage before speaking.

“If I tell you, please don’t judge me-“

He immediately cut you off, “Why would I judge you?”

“Please just let me finish, it’s already hard enough having to tell you.” Again, you avoided his eyes, fearful of seeing any sort of judgment in them.

“Look, I know we’ve been friends for a while now… and I’ve been so happy with that, I really have. It’s just that… one day we won’t have each other.”

As much as you tried not looking at him, your eyes landed on his. They looked solemn. You could already tell that he knew where the conversation was going.

“Eventually, we’ll have our own partners-” your voice was beginning to shake, becoming harder to hide your sadness.

“yn stop.” But before Wonwoo could get another word in, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His hands had snaked their way up to your neck, gently cradling your face. His touch was gentle, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

You were stunned, to say the least. Even as he pulled away, you couldn’t find any words to say. It was as if he had taken your breath away.

“I tried taking it slow, I really did, but I can’t continue seeing you like this. I like you yn, I really do. I was too scared of ruining our friendship so I didn't say anything, but I hate to see you think that no one wants you… because I do.”

You didn’t even notice you had started crying, only feeling Wonwoo's thumbs wipe your tears away.

He continued, “I’m not even sure if you feel the same way about me, but I really need you to know that you are not unloveable.”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Especially now that you knew that Wonwoo liked you back, you felt elated.

Wonwoo on the other hand… felt terrified. While he didn’t regret confessing his feelings towards you, he was certainly scared. He didn’t even know if you reciprocated those same feelings. It also didn’t help that you were being quiet. The silence that was once comfortable to him was beginning to feel suffocating. But before his thoughts could escalate any further, your voice was able to snap him out of his daze.

“Do you really mean it?” You knew it was stupid to ask, considering Wonwoo was not the type to stay stuff like this without meaning it. But the little voice in your head didn’t buy it one bit, so you needed the reassurance to silence those thoughts.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo answered, “Of course.”

“Okay, well… I do too. Like you, that is…” Your face was beginning to burn up. This was so embarrassing. God, you felt like a teenager again, except this time you actually did get your happy ending.

But like the two idiots you were… you didn’t move a single inch. Were you supposed to hug? High-five? Kiss again? This has never happened to you before, either you rejected the guy or pretended that it never happened. What were you supposed to do?

“So….” Wonwoo’s voice was quiet and awkward.

To be fair, neither of you were expecting to confess to each other tonight. Obviously, now that you both know that you have mutual feelings for each other… the next step would be dating right? Or is that too soon? You have been friends for a while now so it wouldn't be that unreasonable... right?

Wonwoo grabbed a hold of your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. You could see the tips of his ears turn a bright pink before he cleared his throat.

“Do you… want to be my-” Wonwoo was visibly cringing as he said it out loud. It was a no brainer, but he still wanted to ask you, to make it official.

“-Yes. I would be an idiot to say no.”

You were tired, very tired.

Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.

Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.

With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.

Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?

What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.

All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.

Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.

Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.

“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.

What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?

And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.

With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.

Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.

“Is there something on my face, birdy?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.

Oh.

It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...

"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?

As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”

"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.

"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."

Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.

"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.

"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.

"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.

Which it did.

Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.

“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.

“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.

“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!

One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.

He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?

“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.

"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.

"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.

Or so you thought?

Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.

Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.

"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.

Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.

You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.

You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?

Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.

[...]

While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.

"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.

"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?

"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?

His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.

"It's none of your business so stay out of it."

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.

"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.

Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.

He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.

Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.

"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.

"Sorry, were you busy with him?"

You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.

Directions? Did she really...?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.

The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...

[Part Two: II]