#1 wonpil defender!

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

But did you?

Obviously not. Moment of weakness, as we speak.

Two hours earlier.

…

Work-life balance? Don’t know her.

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

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

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

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

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

But not you.

You refused to starve yourself.

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

That’s what she said.

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

Just in time, it was finally lunch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You picked it up.

And immediately, something felt… off.

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

You frowned but didn’t overthink it.

Until you opened it.

Your steak was…

Gone.

Like, all gone.

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

Vanished.

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

You weren’t just hungry. You were starving.

A small, devastated wail almost slipped out of you.

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

If anything, you needed it the most.

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

You inhaled slowly, trying to be rational.

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

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

The call connected.

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

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

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

You didn’t hesitate. “My lunch.”

There was a brief pause.

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

“Yes and yes.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot compensate for your loss.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I know, but—”

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

The line went dead.

Hyunsuk hung up.

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

Your eye twitched.

He just said it happens often.

Then do something about it?

“Whatever. Nobody even likes Hyunsuk.”

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

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

The next day, you decided to let it go.

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

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

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

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

Crazy.

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

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

You refused to take this as egg-ceptance.

…Maybe not yet.

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

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

How did you make it again?

Oh, right.

Sichuan peppercorns.

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

The Mapo Tofu.

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

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

Bless him and his encyclopedic knowledge.

But today’s version?

Different.

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

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

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

Maybe you did this on purpose.

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

Serves them right.

…

Lunch break came.

You approached the fridge like a soldier returning to war.

You prayed the thief hadn’t struck again.

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

You opened it and found it was already gone.

Again.

Empty.

But how? Why?

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

And third…

What. The. Fuck.

Who was this food-crazed glutton?

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

You didn’t hesitate.

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

Red lips. Red lips. Red lips.

But to no avail.

Your pepper-kissed burglar was nowhere to be found.

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

You didn’t care.

You just wanted the rat-stealing-food burglar.

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

Including yours.

No one liked overtime.

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

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

You sighed.

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

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

You didn’t care.

Your food had been stolen. Twice.

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

Fair is fair.

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

How classic.

You weren’t alone though.

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

It reminded you of your Sichuan mapo tofu.

You felt like you were mourning a loss.

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

Maybe you were imagining it.

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

Still, you kept glancing at him.

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

Noticing your stare, he paused.

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

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

“What?”

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

You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Now it was your turn to feel offended.

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

This guy is insufferable.

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

And much to your surprise—

The guy was there too.

Walking in the same direction.

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

And then came the real disappointment.

He fucking worked here.

You nearly lost it on the spot.

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

Rare species.

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

What’s new?

Still, you caught it again.

That scent. It was faint now but familiar.

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

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

But still.

You sniffed subtly and shifted a little closer.

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

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

You blinked.

Excuse me?

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

He was insufferable. And irritating him suddenly felt therapeutic.

You scoffed and stepped back into your space.

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

Now it was his turn to look at you properly.

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

Oh, he was annoying.

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

There was a brief silence.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

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

The elevator doors slid open.

You stepped out first.

“See you not later, Mr. Hodenkobold.”

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

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

Especially after your lunch had been stolen.

So you decided.

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

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

Absolutely not.

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

Your cat.

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

It was unfair. Really.

So you came up with a plan.

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

Except—

They were made of wax.

Yes. Wax.

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

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

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

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

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

…Right?

But if they did? It would be hilarious.

…

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

“….”

There was one—no, two chunks missing.

A bite taken out of the fake omelet.

You blinked.

What kind of unhinged human gluttony was this?

You couldn’t brie-lieve it.

They actually ate the wax.

The next day, you switched tactics.

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

This time?

Untouched.

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

You assumed the thief wasn’t a seafood fan.

Or maybe allergic.

That theory lasted exactly twenty-four hours.

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

For insurance, you taped a note to the lid:

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

You stuck it firmly on top of your Tupperware.

Surely this would intimidate them.

Surely.

...

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

You picked it up.

Your handwriting stared back at you.

And underneath—

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

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

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

The audacity must be on clearance sale.

When you opened the container, your jaw tightened.

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

The shrimp and clams?

Only to be left behind.

Oh.

So they weren’t allergic.

They were picky.

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

This needs to end now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

That’s it.

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

...

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

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

Just like you.

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

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

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

Excuse me?

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

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

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

He blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

Fine.

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

Jeon fucking Wonwoo.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that bad,” you shrugged.

(It absolutely sucks.)

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

Oh, he’s so cocky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That made him falter.

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

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

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

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

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

Your smile dropped instantly and stepped back.

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

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

Hell nah.

You were not backing down either.

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

His eyebrow lifted.

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

That caught him off guard.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

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

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

His eyes darkened as he stepped forward.

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

And then—

A sudden loud gasp from behind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s handsome.

Annoyingly attractive.

If only he’d shut up.

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

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

You nodded slowly. Then circled back.

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

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

The audacity.

Rich in audacity. Poor manners.

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

“Right. Food.” Wonwoo skimmed the menu.

“What do you recommend?” you asked.

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

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

“Oh? Like what?”

“Meat.”

Silence.

“…Okay. I’ll just get ratatouille.”

“But that’s all vegetables.”

“Shut up, meathead.”

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

Wonwoo was still looking at you.

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

The waiter jolted and left immediately.

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

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

“M-me?”

“Your lunch.”

Oh.

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

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

He glared.

You smiled.

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

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

“…”

Silence.

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

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

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

“Nah.”

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

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

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

“She’s married. With five kids.”

“….”

Okay. Fair enough.

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll bite.”

His eyes lit up.

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

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

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

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

Yeah.

He’s definitely messing with you.

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

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

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

Your place was cozy. Very you, he thought.

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

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

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

Now that you thought about it… yeah. 

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

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

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

Silence.

You looked up.

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

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

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

Your knife froze mid-chop.

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

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

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

“Are you messing with me?”

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

You didn’t push it. It was pointless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s so hot. If only he shut up.

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

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

“No one said I’d fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

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

“…..”

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

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

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

“Don’t have time for that.”

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

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

“Oh,” you said. “Then… hookups?”

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

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

“For what?”

You gestured at him.

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

“Your mom.”

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

Well. That rhymed.

Silence stretched between you.

You swallowed. “…Sorry to hear that.”

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

Another quiet beat.

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

...

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

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

For some reason, it felt intimate.

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

Insufferable. Infuriating. Hot as fuck.

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

The problem with this show was the sex scenes.

You’d completely forgotten how many there were.

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

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

Another scene started.

Just great.

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

The couch shifted.

He turned his head toward you.

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

Because he remembered the way you talked to him.

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

Fuck.

Maybe that’s what did it.

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

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

You blinked.

For a moment, your brain short-circuited.

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

Exactly.

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

“Hell yeah,” he breathed.

His hands found your hips instantly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.

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

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

Your body pressed closer.

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

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

You were already giving too much.

Time blurred.

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

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

It was hunger.

Like he hadn’t had enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not a masochist, of course.

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

“Get on your knees. Now.”

Did you listen? Hell yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was fucking intoxicating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Strawberry,” you said.

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

You huffed. “Cherry, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rest was history.

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

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

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

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

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

And you loved every single second of it.

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

Wow.

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

“Me,” you joked.

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

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

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

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

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

You had to stifle a laugh.

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

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

“Was that a threat?”

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

He nuzzled your nape like an oversized cat.

You stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re crazy.”

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

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

With a price, of course. The lunch arrangement.

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

And it scared the shit out of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He paused, thinking for a second.

“Jeonghan,” he said simply.

Ah.

Of course.

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

He definitely put him up to this on purpose.

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

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

FIN.

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

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

The thought of you weighed on Ushijima’s mind longer than he realised. When picking out his socks, he stared long and hard at a pair that was the same colour as the shirt you wore during your fateful encounter. Things reminding him of you seemed to be everywhere. Whether it was an airy laugh reaching him from the corner of the classroom or the rhythmic pattern of your footsteps as you walked down the halls each day, he couldn't help but send glances your way. 

When he learned your name, the sweet-sounding string of syllables never left his mind. Things that started with the same letter as your name made his thoughts circle back to you as if he were a wheel’s barrel and his feelings a rim that kept him in a never-ending loop. 

The melodic squeaking of shoes against waxed hardwood and the spikes of chatter in the gym were a perfect anchor to the waves of Ushijima’s ever-growing feelings. Perhaps the familiar lull was too great, as before he could process his own words, Ushijima muttered “I like her,” to no one imparticular. 

Like most quiet sounds, the words should’ve fizzled out in the sheer amount of background noise; like a raindrop in the ocean. However, they didn’t go unheard. Tendou’s neck craned to his left in a slow turn resembling an owl, his face reflecting the pure astonishment he felt. 

“Like? Who? You like who?” Tendou almost hooted. 

“Who likes who?” Semi virtually materialised behind Tendou. 

Ushijima blinked, realising what he had done and silently contemplated his next words.

“[Name].” 

Semi asked, “On the girls’ team? It makes sense how you’ve been–” 

“[NAME]? WHAT?” Tendou shrieked in many pitches higher than anyone thought he could vocalise.  

Semi grimaced and silently mourned the damage to his eardrums. “Why are we yelling?” 

“Is it surprising?” Ushijima furrowed his brows. 

“Not really.” “YES!” 

“...”

“Does she– Have you talked to her?” Semi probed. 

“No,” Ushijima answered plainly. 

“Like at all?” 

“Not at all.” 

“How long have you liked her?” 

“Three months”

“Three–”

Tendou leaned his elbow on his friend’s shoulder and cleared his throat. “Looks like we might have to give our Miracle Boy some help.” 

“And how would you do that?” Semi raised an eyebrow.

Tendou wagged his finger in front of the setter’s face. “You doubt my great wingman skills.”

If knowing Tendou for three years taught Semi anything, it was that the redhead’s antics were best observed from afar rather than being in the middle of it. 

“I wish you the best.” Semi hummed, disinterested and moved to wipe the sweat that travelled down his forehead and walk away. 

“Yeah, it’ll go well when WE help him.” Tendou made a back-and-forth gesture between himself and Semi, gripping Semi’s shoulder and making him freeze from spiritual pressure alone. 

“Come on, Semi-Semi, would you really think to leave him hanging like that?” Tendou poked him. “Look at his face.”

Semi scrunched his face up in thought, gaze flicking between Ushijima’s blank stare and Tendou’s knowing one, as he felt his conscience prod at him. 

“Fine.” He sighed and pointed at Tendou, “But, it’s only to make sure you don’t give him any crazy advice.” 

“Me? Never!” 

“Sure, buddy.” 

By this time, the trio’s conversation had already piqued the interest of another pair of ears in the gym. They would make sure to keep themselves updated on the third year’s Cupid mission. 

₊˚ʚ ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Ushijima did as he was advised and began expressing his feelings via gift giving since charming you through his eloquent words was, well, not possible. And he thought, what better gift to give than food? Give you food, he did. 

Ushijima noticed that you bought a piece of melon bread and a small carton of juice from a nearby convenience store a few times during the week. 

Early in the day, the classroom was empty save for you at your desk, and Ushijima thought it the perfect opportunity to approach. He quietly walked up to your desk and placed the food and drink, barely making any noise. As far as Ushijima knew, things were going swimmingly. 

That was, ignoring the fact that you were dead asleep. 

You woke up shortly after the morning bell rang to food on your desk, and you stared at it in confusion. Maybe someone forgot it there? You let it be and moved it to the corner of your desk, resolving to eat it for lunch unless someone came to claim it by the lunchtime deadline you set. After all, free food was free food. 

By your deadline, no one came back for the edible treasures, and you might as well have been met with tumbleweeds. Shrugging, you opened the pack of bread and munched away. 

Watching you accept his gift, Ushijima smiled softly before packing his own things to grab lunch at the cafeteria. He would make sure to thank Tendou later.

This pattern continued for the next three weeks. You came to the classroom early and exhausted from morning practice, took a nap and woke up to melon bread and a juicebox on your desk. It wasn’t every day, but it happened often enough over the time period to make you wonder just who your secret bread plug was. It was a little odd the first three times, but you started to find it pretty cute how your potential admirer made it their unofficial job to keep you well-fed. As you chowed down on the impossibly soft pastry, you tried to make a few guesses as to who it was, but drew blanks each time. 

Ushijima, on the other hand, was over the moon. 

“So, how’re things going with [Name]?” Tendou asked one day during an intermission in their club session. 

“Good.” Ushijima gave an appreciative nod and his lips quirked into a soft smile, “She really likes melon bread.”

“You’ve just talked about the things you like? That’s a little slow for three weeks of talking, but it’s getting somewhere.” Semi spoke thoughtfully. 

“We haven’t talked about that yet.” Ushijima corrected. 

“Nice!” Tendou clapped. “So you learned that through being observant, that’s good.” 

“What else do you talk about?” Semi asked, mildly interested.

Ushijima spoke matter-of-factly. “We don’t talk.” 

Tendou paused, “Huh?” 

Semi blinked. “What? But I thought…”

“So what does she say about- well, ya’know? Everything?” 

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Why…?”

“She’s asleep when I bring the bread.” 

Beat. 

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!!” 

The staggered cry throughout the gym did not come solely from Semi and Tendou. Tendou’s head whipped around to see Shirabu’s equally ruffled reaction. 

“Why are you shocked?” 

Shirabu coughed. 

“S-So, when you talked about her being happy with the bread-” Semi stuttered. 

“She smiled when she ate it.” 

“I mean, you did take the advice,” Tendou added.

Semi slapped his forehead. 

“Dude…” 

₊˚ʚ ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

The next day, Ushijima stared at the melon bread and juicebox in his hands, conflicted. He knew that anonymously gifting you the things you liked didn’t exactly bring you closer together, but simply seeing your smile brought him more than enough satisfaction. He was happy to see you happy, whether or not he was with you.

He quietly slid the classroom door open, only to see your desk empty. Unsure of what to do, he sat at his own desk, the bread and juice staring at him like he had done to it earlier. The hushed classroom let him rifle through his thoughts without disturbance. This whole communication thing was difficult to master. 

Ushijima resolved to leave the food at your desk and rethink his approach for next time. 

With the door left open, you didn’t make a sound as you rounded the corner to enter the classroom. Before you actually stepped in, you watched Ushijima walk towards your desk and gently place the melon bread and juicebox like he was handling a bouquet of flowers in a glass vase. 

You backtracked, waiting for Ushijima to leave the classroom for what you would assume was morning practice. After he disappeared down the hall, you tread to your desk, dumbfounded. 

Your bread supplier was Ushijima? 

No matter which way you put it, this was groundbreaking. However, shock wasn’t the only thing you felt in the moment. Your cheeks grew warm, and you had to smack a hand over your mouth to stop the giddy giggles that threatened to escape you. 

Though you couldn't help the flushed smile that grew on your face. 

He was so cute.

When Ushijima returned to the classroom, he found a small note on his desk with a small message, 

‘Thanks :)

 - [Name]’

After all, the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach.

first time writing one this long, but it was pretty fun.

@midnights-with-him

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐢𝐧

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧

𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐢𝐥

𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐧

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@yoonguurt

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex (do not), grinding, praise (f receiving), orgasm denial (both receiving), cum inside, somewhat rough sex (squint, you’ll see it), low-key lovemaking (cause Wonpil is soft for her), oral (f receiving), and I think that’s all. I read over this like three times to make sure but if I missed any, please let me know lol

Wonpil looked up at the sky, the soft grey clouds overhead giving nothing away for what was to come. He let out a deep sigh and looked back down as the light for the crosswalk changed, allowing the pedestrians on either side to cross safely. He followed the small crowd as he walked, continuing on his way. He chose this small town to live in because of its size and population.

He used to live in a bustling metropolis but realized that it was too dangerous for him in his current… condition.

Wonpil was a werecat and before you get any ideas, no. He does not turn into that. Unlike a werewolf which becomes a half man, half beast, Wonpil’s cat form is anything but beastly. He turns into an eight pound black house cat. The result of a curse set upon him when he was a child and was bitten by a stray cat that later turned out to be a werecat as well.

A voice brought Wonpil out of his thoughts and he turned his head slightly to see two middle-aged women looking at a cluster of papers stapled to a bulletin board, grim looks on their faces as they spoke in hushed tones. “It’s getting worse,” one woman said, to which the other woman shook her head solemnly. “Those poor creatures,” she added before the women continued on their way, giving Wonpil a chance to glance at the paper they had been studying before.

It was a collection of missing cat posters. There had to have been at least a dozen. His eyes wandered over the lost cat posters and mentions of various rewards for their safe return only Wonpil knew there would be no happy reunions. Not this time of the year. He forced himself to turn away, trying not to think of what had become of the unfortunate felines.

Halloween was barely a week away and coincidentally, so was the full moon. Wonpil’s werecat curse meant that his transformations were to start tonight. The week leading up to any full moon meant that was a week where each night after sunset, Wonpil would be forced to turn into a cat. He’d been through hundreds of transformations at this point in his life so it was all very routine.

A chorus of caws sounded overhead and Wonpil looked up to see a few ravens flying in circles and one perched on a street light. He watched as the perched bird looked down at him and made eye contact. He felt strange. As if he wasn’t looking at a bird but that was preposterous. Of course he was looking at a bird. What else would it be? He turned away and hurried down the sidewalk, pushing this strange encounter from his mind.

Finally reaching his home, Wonpil let himself into the condo, closing and locking the door behind him as he hurried into his kitchen to deposit his groceries. Shrugging off his coat, he moved to hang it up in the hall closet before returning to put away his food.

While restocking his pantry, a sharp tap on the window caught his attention and he spun around to see a raven sitting on the window sill outside his window. It peered in at him and Wonpil felt as if it was staring at him. He slowly moved closer to examine the bird closely but was startled when it tapped its beak sharply against the glass before letting out a series of caws.

Wonpil reached the window and opened it. The raven sat still, looking around and then up at him before hopping inside. Wonpil stared cautiously at the corvid, wondering why it was behaving so weird. Its gaze met his and it let out a shrill caw, ruffling its feathers. Wonpil felt a shiver run up his spine and he grabbed a nearby dish towel and began to shoo the bird away, flapping the towel at it.

The raven cawed at him, backing up as he waved the towel at it. Once it had stepped outside the window, Wonpil hurried and slammed it shut, turning the lock for good measure. The raven sat still, watching him indignantly through the glass pane. Wonpil untied the tied backs and let the curtains fall, covering the window and putting the bird out of his mind.

Once his groceries were put away, Wonpil made himself a quick snack, checking the clock and seeing he only had an half an hour left before his first transformation. He closed all the curtains in his home, checked that all doors and windows were closed and locked before sitting down on the couch to watch some television. Checking his watch, he saw it was almost time and undid the watch before setting it aside and turning off the TV. The old grandfather clock in the hallway started chiming as the hour hand hit the 7 and Wonpil took a deep breath.

He felt his body heat up, a tell tale sign of his impending transformation. He slowly got to his feet as his heart race accelerated, his breathing growing unsteady as he attempted to gain control over himself. His face began to itch as whiskers attempted to pierce their way out of his skin. He resisted the urge to scratch as his entire body started to heat up to an unbearable temperature.

He let out a low groan as he felt his anatomy shift, his plantigrade feet turning into digitigrade as he hurriedly untied and kicked off his shoes. Cracking and the sounds of bones popping could be heard as his bone structure literally rearranged itself and black fur started to grow quickly out of his skin, his body started to shrink as he transformed. He felt his canines erupt, growing in length.

His clothes no longer fit him as he dropped to his hands and knees, dropping his head low as he endured the slight pain of a tail growing from the end of his spine and his ears started to elongate and rise above his head. Still shrinking, he disappeared inside his shirt, his senses overwhelmed, Wonpil fell onto his side and just as quickly as it started, it was over. He sat up, aware that his body was no longer human. He pawed his way out of the shirt until he was free. Everything around him in his home was much larger now. He looked around before stretching, reaching his paws out in front of him.

Once stretched, Wonpil trotted over to the fireplace, hopping on the recliner next to it and then jumping onto the mantle to get a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked like he always did. A black cat with yellow eyes. A distant sound caught his attention and he flicked his ears backwards to listen. A rustling in the bushes outside his home. He hopped down from the mantle and made his way over to the front door. He meowed loudly, scratching at the wood before a sound from the bushes in the back garden caught his attention. He turned quickly, his eyes catching sight of the cat flap.

He trotted over to it and pushed through to find it was unlocked. He entered the back garden and sat on the stone steps. Peering overhead, he saw the moon and stared at it. ‘Stupid rock.’ Wonpil felt the breeze blow through his fur and a scent caught his attention. He heard rustling again and made his way to the bush to investigate. If he was lucky, maybe he’d find some dinner.

Peering inside the bush turned out to be useless as whatever was there was gone already so instead, he made his way over to his garden gate and slipped between the bars. He headed out into the night, following his instincts and his nose. A raven screamed at him from a stop sign and Wonpil arched his back, his hair standing on end in an attempt to make himself look bigger. Scarier.

The raven ruffled its feathers and took to the sky, letting out a cacophony of caws and shrieks before it flew off into the night. ‘What does that bird want?’ Wonpil asked himself as he stared after the corvid before he pushed it from his mind and continued on his way. He was starting to get hungry.

He walked and walked until he reached the town park that was settled into a cut out from the forest on the edge of town. Wonpil made his way into the park, hoping to find a mouse or something to sate his appetite. He was walking along when he came across something he hoped he’d never see whilst in his cat form. A group of teenage boys in the park at night.

Hoping the kids hadn’t seen him, he tried to sneak away but one of the boys yelled out. “Oi! Look!” he said, pointing Wonpil out. The boys immediately gave chase as Wonpil tried to get away, his sound of his paws inaudible over the sound of his heart beat. ‘Where’s the exit?’ he asked himself as he tried to flee but it was no use. He made a wrong turn and found himself in a dead end. He turned around to head back and maybe find a nice tree to climb but found his path blocked.

“I found him!” one of the boys called to his friends. Arching his back and flattening his ears, Wonpil let out a growl as the boys advanced on him. “Look at the scaredy cat,” one boy taunted while another searched the path for a handful of rocks. The boys then took turns tossing the stones at Wonpil, not trying to hit him but enough to scare him. He let out a loud yowl when one rock actually bounced off the path and hit him. The boys just laughed and continued to torment him.

‘I have to find a way out!’ Wonpil thought to himself, his eyes scanning the scene and trying to find an opening. Another rock came flying and hit him in the eye. He let out a shriek, blinded by the attack. The leader of the gang advanced on him, a sickening grin on his face. Wonpil hissed at him, following it with a series of growls. The leader only laughed and reached for him. Wonpil struck, slashing at him with his claws and injuring the kid who promptly let out a howl of pain. Wonpil took this moment of confusion among the boys to run but was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted off the ground.

He hissed and growled and scratched but it was no use. He was caught. The leader of the gang glared at him. “Stupid cat!” he yelled. “Think you can scratch me and get away with it?” he said. He reached out to grab Wonpil but stopped when a soft voice called out.

“What is going on?” The boys glanced over. Wonpil too looked over to see a young woman standing at the end of the path, her large eyes looking curiously at the group. Her eyes caught sight of the cat and she immediately knew what was going on. “Stay out of this, lady!” one of the bigger boys warned.

The woman advanced on the group. “Let that poor cat go,” she said softly. The boys just laughed at her request. The woman was not smiling. “I said,” she stated, advancing slowly on the group. “Let. That. Cat. Go.” She stood only feet from the group now and Wonpil was worried she might get hurt. She was outnumbered. The boys just laughed again. “Go home, bitch,” one of the boys said. The woman smiled this time. “Oh,” she said softly. “So close,” she added before raising her hands to the side slowly.

The boys watched as a light started to emit from her. Wonpil watched the way her hair moved in the wind, her eyes shut as she started to glow brighter and brighter until she opened her eyes and what Wonpil saw next shocked him. Her eyes were white and glowing. The light emitting from her started to pulsate, slowly at first before becoming faster and faster.

“What the-” one of the boys started but couldn’t finish as a large pulse of light hit the group and knocked them back into the bushes. Wonpil thought he would be thrown with them but instead, he remained stationary in the air. He was floating where he had been previously held. He looked up to see the woman return to normal before she walked over to him, pulling the shawl she was wearing off and wrapping him in it and cradling him close. “Come on, little one,” she whispered and turned to head deeper into the park. Wonpil watched as the trees grew denser and denser before he passed out.

When he woke up the next morning, Wonpil was extremely aware of the fact he was not in his home. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He was lying in a bed that was not his, wearing clothes that were not his own. He sat up quickly and glanced around, taking in his surroundings.

As if on cue, footsteps sounded from down the hallway, making their way to the door to the room he was in. Wonpil tensed up, fearing the worst but the door swung open and he was pleasantly surprised to see a very beautiful young woman standing before him. She gave him a kind smile, a tray in her hands.

She entered the room and set the tray on the bed next to Wonpil before standing up straight and walking over to the window, pulling back one of the curtains to throw the room into the dim light of the sunrise. “Good morning,” she said in a soft tone. Wonpil couldn’t help but feel safe in her presence and all apprehension washed away as he realized how hungry he was. He started to dig into his breakfast, stealing occasional glances at the woman. 

A memory flashed before him of the night before. That same kind smile, being wrapped and cradled like a babe in her shawl, and the forest growing denser before he blacked out. Wonpil swallowed his pancakes and looked at the woman. “Uh,” he began, uncertain of what to say. “ The woman spoke before he could. “What is your name?” she asked. Wonpil scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The way he seemed nervous around you made you want to smile, stifling a chuckle as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. As you studied him, he finally spoke, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Uh, Wonpil,” he replied. “My name is Kim Wonpil.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Kim Wonpil. My name is Y/N,” you said, giving a slight bow of your head. “Nice to meet you, too,” Wonpil replied. ‘I guess,’ he added in his head. He started eating again before a question forced its way out of him. “Are you a witch?” he asked. You smiled and nodded again. “I am,” you admitted.

“And what about you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Wonpil looked at you with wide eyes. “M-me? Oh no, no,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not a witch,” he added. A smile spread across your face, concealing a giggle. “No, I know that,” you replied. “What I meant was, how long have you been a werecat?” Wonpil choked on his orange juice and you flicked your finger, allowing the juice to go smoothly down his throat.

“I- I’m n-not-- I m-mean, h-how did you-?” he sputtered. You held up your hand, silencing him effortlessly. “I know you’re a werecat simply because one, you don’t move and behave like a normal cat and two, I watched you transform back into a human last night.” 

Wonpil suddenly felt very self conscious. You had seen him naked! Seemingly sensing what he was thinking, you smiled again. 

“Don’t worry,” you said reassuringly, catching Wonpil’s attention. “I didn’t touch or look at you,” you added. “I’m a witch.” Wonpil nodded slowly. “So you didn’t see?” he asked, glancing down at his lap before looking back up to meet your gaze. You gave a mischievous grin before shaking your head. 

“No, I didn’t see anything,” you finally replied, which made Wonpil feel infinitely better. The last thing he needed was an extremely gorgeous witch seeing his… assets.

“So,” Wonpil said, earning your undivided attention. 

“Have you lived in town long?” he asked. 

You smiled, thinking purposefully before speaking. “I have,” you answered. Wonpil thought this response odd considering the amount of time you thought about it before answering but before he could ask, he caught a glimpse of a clock and saw the time. “Oh my goodness!” he shouted, scrambling out of the bed. “I’m going to be late!” he added, rushing towards the door.

He stopped and turned to face you, finding that you hadn’t moved from your seat by the window. 

“Thank you for last night,” he said softly. You smiled knowingly. “Of course,” you replied. “Feel free to come here any time,” you added. Wonpil smiled at you before rushing out of her front door. Once outside in the forest, he realized just exactly how deep in the woods he was. He ran down the path stopping to glance back at the tiny cottage nestled in a thick patch of trees and boulders.

He continued to run and run until he was out of the woods, literally, and back in town. He made his way hastily to his home and let himself in through the backdoor using his garden key. Once inside, he hurried to his bathroom and took a boiling hot shower to scrub away the dirt from his feet from running through the woods. He cleaned himself and got out of the shower, shutting off the hot water.

Once he had wrapped a towel around his waist, he glanced in the foggy mirror and checked out his reflection. His eye had a small cut underneath on his unlid but he could see just fine. The Witch no doubt cleaned his wounds and took care of him while he was passed out. 

Wonpil finished drying off and got changed before heading out of his house and hurrying down the street to the bookshop where he worked. He entered through the back door, apologizing profusely to his boss who waved him off. “It’s not like we’re busy,” his boss said in a monotone voice from his office. Wonpil put on his apron, tying it on and making sure he had his necessary materials in the pockets.

Once behind the counter, he went to work counting the till and setting up his station. It was a part-time job, but the owner paid well and it was quiet. The work was tedious at times but Wonpil didn’t mind. It allowed him to read new books all the time and it was off the main road so it was never busy.

Work went by slowly at first while Wonpil cleaned the shelves and reorganized the books at the front counter. He took pride in his work, even if it wasn’t much and the owner did truly appreciate the hard work and dedication Wonpil put into the job.

Wonpil was immersed in a fantasy book behind the counter when he heard the office door close. “I’m going to run down to the bakery and pick up lunch. Do you want anything?” his boss asked. “Just a bagel and coffee,” Wonpil replied softly. “Strawberry cream cheese and a latte?” his boss asked with a half smile. Wonpil nodded and without another word, the owner left the shop to Wonpil who returned to his book, eager to see what was going to happen to the protagonist and his friends.

What felt like seconds but was more like several minutes passed when the door opened again. Wonpil knew it was too soon for his boss to be back, so he marked his place in the book and set it aside. He looked up to see a familiar face entering the shop.

“Y/N?” he asked. You looked genuinely surprised to see him there and gave him a warm smile. “So this is what you were late for?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice. Wonpil nodded. “Y-yes. I work here,” he said, realizing how stupid he sounded only seconds later. ‘Of course she knows you work here, idiot,’ he told himself. Luckily, you seemed amused but said nothing more before walking away from the door and started perusing the shelves. 

“C-can I help you find something?” Wonpil inquired nervously. His cheeks burned as you poked your head out from behind one of the shelves. “No,” you replied playfully. Wonpil watched as you continued to shop, making your way through the sections. You passed the sections one by one; fiction, non-fiction, history, young adult, until you were nearly at the back of the shop in a section that was extremely fitting to your nature.

Occult.

“Do you need help with anything?” Wonpil asked from his place behind the counter. You turned to flash him a bright smile. “No, I've got it,” Wonpil watched as you pulled down books, opened them only to browse a few pages before snapping them shut and placing them back on the shelf. He continued watching as you repeated this numerous times before he hurried out from behind the counter and over to where you stood. He cleared his throat softly. 

“Were you looking for something specific?”

You turned and smiled at him. “Something? No,” you replied. “But someone?” you asked, slowly advancing on him, forcing him to back up until the backs of his knees hit the couch positioned out of sight of the door. Wonpil glanced down at the couch quickly and back up at you as you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down onto the sofa. You climbed onto his lap and Wonpil felt his face burn as it started to redden. “Uh,” he whispered. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You smiled at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks softly. “What’s not a good idea?” you asked softly. Wonpil couldn’t find the right words to explain why he thought you straddling him in the occult section of the bookstore he worked at was a good idea because all he could think of at the moment was the feeling of your-

A loud ringing brought him out of his trance and he saw that you were still standing by the shelf you’d been at earlier. Wonpil quickly got up and hurried up to greet whomever came into the store. A mother and her young children asked him where the children’s section was and Wonpil pointed them in the right direction before slipping behind the counter, trying to hide the growing problem in his pants. Thankfully his apron did a pretty good job of that on its own.

He glanced up as the mother and her children returned quickly, having found exactly what they were looking for. Wonpil rang their order up and told the mother her total. As she pulled the notes out of her wallet, Wonpil noticed you walking up to the counter, a rather large book in your arms. Upon meeting his gaze, you gave him a mischievous smile as you got in line behind the mother. 

The mother paid in exact change and took her bag. “Thank you for coming in!” Wonpil said as they left the store, leaving him alone once again with you, the Witch.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked quietly. You set the book in your arms on the counter just as the door opened again and Wonpil looked up to see his boss had returned with a bag from the bakery and two cups of coffee. “No one robbed the place?” his boss asked jokingly as he walked past, smiling at you and offering a “good afternoon,” as he did. You returned his greeting before looking at Wonpil as his boss disappeared into his office.

Wonpil glanced down at the book and felt his blood run cold. ‘Lycanthropy and its Many Different Forms.’ He looked up at you, noticing the wide, teasing smile on your face now. “This isn’t funny,” he hissed. Your smile didn’t falter. “Could you please ring me up? I have places to be,” you asked politely. 

Wonpil hesitantly grabbed the book and started to ring you up, punching in the numbers. “Unless you’d like me to stay so we can play on that couch in the occult section,” he heard you whisper in a low, seductive tone. Wonpil’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his suspicions confirmed.

So he hadn’t imagined that. It had actually happened. Your smile widened. “Come by after your shift and I’ll take care of that,” you added, leaning onto the counter and glancing down at his apron. Wonpil set the book back down, telling you your total, if only to get you out of the shop faster. The longer you lingered, the harder it became to hide his body’s reaction. Wordlessly, you handed him a note and he gave her back her change. 

“Thank you and have a nice day,” Wonpil said, trying to convey that this meeting was over. You shrugged. “You know where to find me if you change your mind,” you said, your voice cheerful, before walking to the door, opening it with a ring of the bell and stepping out onto the sidewalk. 

Wonpil watched you through the window until you disappeared down the sidewalk before he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He heard a door open and he glanced over as his boss appeared, walking over and setting a small paper sack and a latte on the counter for him. Wonpil thanked him and picked up his beverage, taking a sip and then opening the paper sack to dig into his bagel.

The rest of his shift passed without incident and Wonpil left early at the insistence of his boss, giving him just enough time to get home and prepare to transform again. He was walking down the sidewalk past the park when he noticed the kids from last night loitering around the entrance of the park. He felt his blood boil as he glared at them, particularly the leader.

“Hey!” Wonpil shouted when he was close enough and the kids all looked at him, confusion written on their faces. “What do you want?” the leader asked as Wonpil approached them. Wonpil didn’t stop until he was in the leader’s face. “You think it’s funny to attack and torture cats? Is it fun to hurt innocent animals for no reason?” he asked in a low tone. The kids looked at him, eyes wide with shock.

“N-no,” the leader said softly as Wonpil advanced on him, clearly much older and bigger than the bully. “Then pick on someone your own size from now on or the Witch in the woods will get you,” he barked. He glanced around before adding, “ALL of you.” He then continued on, knocking past the kids and heading for his home, a sense of justice blanketing him.

Once he was inside the safety of his home. He locked the doors and this time remembered to latch the catflap. While he was preparing for his evening, a thought crossed his mind. ‘You know where to find me if you change your mind.’ Your words rang in his mind and he found himself unlatching the catflap. ‘It’s not because I want to sleep with her,’ he told himself. ‘I just felt safe in her cottage.’

Though deep down, he knew it was partly because he actually did want to sleep with you,

Wonpil’s transformation that night was the same as it had been the night before. Once he freed himself from his now too large shirt, he headed for the catflap and out into the night. He took extra care, making sure no bullies were around as he headed into the park and ran to the forest, making his way to the path that would lead him to the Witch’s house. He trotted along the path until the familiar cottage came into view. Outside in the garden, he saw your figure as you went about your business. 

He slowly approached until he was at the edge of her garden. He saw you tense up and turn slowly. When your eyes caught sight of him, Wonpil saw your shoulders visibly relax, a smile spreading across your face. 

“You came back,” you said softly as Wonpil made his way over to where you knelt in the dirt. He meowed at you and gently, you reached down to pet him, giving him a few strokes before continuing to dig around in the dirt. Next to where you knelt, a basket sat where Wonpil could see you were putting vegetables. Once you finished, you stood up, grabbing the basket and headed for her door. 

You stopped briefly, turning to Wonpil. “You coming?” you asked.

Wonpil stood and ran over to her door, rushing inside before you headed in, shutting and locking the door behind the both of you. Once inside, you headed to your kitchen and started cleaning the vegetables. Wonpil jumped up into a chair to watch. “Are you just going to watch me all night?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the black cat. Wonpil let out another meow in response which made you chuckle. “Alright, then,” you said before going back to your work.

For the rest of the evening, Wonpil watched you work as you finished cleaning the vegetables and put them away to store. He then watched as you took the dried herbs that were hanging in the kitchen and started to grind them up. You looked over at Wonpil who watched you curiously. He hopped up onto the table and walked over to sniff the mortar in your hands. He then looked up at you. 

“You want to know what I’m doing?” you asked curiously. Wonpil meowed again, his only way of saying yes.

“I’m making spells,” you explained as you grabbed a few more herbs and added them to the mortar and started grinding again. “People from the town come to me and ask me for remedies for all sorts of ailments and the like. So I make them natural remedies, or spells, as I call them. You don’t have to be a witch to make spells work,” you added, looking at the cat.

Once you finished fulfilling your orders, you sat down by the fireplace and grabbed your knitting. Wonpil jumped up onto the footrest to watch until you moved your project, patting your lap. Wonpil hesitated before jumping into your lap and curling up while you continued to knit. Wonpil fell asleep only to be woken up as you moved to stand up, cradling him in your arms and carrying him to the bedroom where you set him down at the foot of your bed and moved to change into your nightgown. 

Wonpil shut his eyes in an attempt to give you some privacy but couldn’t help his curiosity and opened one eye where he could see your figure facing away from him, stripped bare. He watched as you grabbed your nightgown and pulled it on over your head, letting the material fall down to the floor. He shut his eye and pretended to be asleep as you turned and got into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and not long after, the lights went out. 

It didn’t take much longer after for Wonpil to pass out again.

Wonpil continued this routine, spending the night at your cottage before getting up to go to work the next morning then coming back to spend the night again. When you asked him one morning why he kept coming back, he told you it was because he felt safe in your house. He could be himself and not have to worry. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind his company either.

After the bookshop encounter, Wonpil noticed that you hadn’t made another pass at him and you stopped teasing him completely. You would never admit it to Wonpil, but his presence made you feel accepted and safe, so you obviously didn’t mind having him in your home.

The days passed and soon, it was the morning of Halloween.

The sound of birds chirping woke Wonpil from his restful state and he wearily opened his eyes. The soft sunlight from the morning passed through the partially open curtains, hitting the floor and the blankets at the foot of the bed. 

Wonpil rolled over, catching a glimpse of you sleeping peacefully beside him. You were even more beautiful in the morning sun than he’d had previously thought.

As he sat up slowly, trying not to disturb your sleep, Wonpil grabbed the pair of sweats resting on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed. He slowly slipped his legs into the pants and stood to pull them up. He heard a soft moan behind him and quickly turned his head to see you were beginning to stir, slowly waking up. He watched as your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing him, your expression immediately softened.

“Good morning,” you murmured. Wonpil smiled shyly at you. “Morning,” he mumbled. His heart raced as you reached out a hand for him and he took it without hesitation, allowing you to pull him back into the bed, settling under the covers next to you and wrapping his arms around your warm figure, pulling you in close.

The two of you sat there for a moment, before you finally spoke, breaking the silence. 

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked, looking up at him, one of your hands gently stroking up and down his bare back. Wonpil shook his head silently, burying his face in your hair. “No,” he said, his voice muffled. You let out a giggle followed immediately by a content sigh. “I just want to stay like this forever,” Wonpil said quietly. He felt you nod. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Silence fell between you once more before Wonpil gently kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him again, your eyes meeting before you connected your lips with his in a soft kiss. Pulling back, you studied Wonpil’s expression. Before you could say anything, Wonpil pulled you back in for another kiss. Your hands moved, grabbing Wonpil’s shoulders, as one of your legs moved, hiking up around his waist.

The action startled him at first before it spurred Wonpil on and he responded by rolling onto his back, pulling you as he did so you were now on top of him, straddling his hips. You leaned over, reconnecting your lips in a rushed kiss which Wonpil welcomed. It was as if a fire were lit inside him, an intense burning desire settling deep within him. Wonpil’s hands grabbed the thin material of your nightgown and slowly pushed it up to your waist. 

He knew by now that you didn’t wear underwear to bed and wasn’t surprised to see your naked core pressed against his sweats right above where his cock was starting to harden. Wanting you to feel all of him, Wonpil grabbed your hips and slowly moved them, grinding you against the material of his sweats. You let out a choked moan which further ignited the fire inside the werecat.

Wonpil sat up quickly, pulling the nightgown off of you and throwing it aside, leaving you bare before him. His eyes wandered, taking in your exposed skin, his hands followed, sliding up your side as you sat on him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, one of his hands sliding over your neck, the other sliding down to grab your thigh. As his eyes swept upward, his hands moved around to the back, smoothing over your skin until he cupped your backside in his hands. 

Your hips moved of their own accord, rubbing against the thick material under you with each movement. Your walls clenched around nothing as your wetness seeped out, starting to coat the front of Wonpil’s sweatpants. He didn’t seem to mind however as he continued to guide your movements.

You whimpered, grinding harder against him, causing Wonpil to let out a choked moan. “D-do that again,” he breathed and you obliged, rubbing harder against him. By then, you could feel his erection through his pants and to say you wanted more was an understatement. 

Without a word, you carefully climbed off him before untying the strings on his sweats and pulling them down and exposing his hard length. 

You continued to pull, discarding his pants in the same manner Wonpil had discarded your nightgown, before straddling him again, this time your wet cunt meeting the smooth skin of his girth and you let out an unrestrained moan, eyes flutter shut as you rolled your hips, rubbing against the underside of his shaft.

Wonpil let out a shaky breath, hands moving up your body, cupping your breast. Your skin was burning under his hands and yet, goosebumps still erupted over your skin under his almost feather light touch.

“I need more,” you whispered, catching him off guard. 

Before Wonpil could say anything, you raised your hips and, grabbing his cock with your hand, you aligned the tip with your entrance before sinking down on him. Wonpil let out a strained groan, having never felt anything quite like it. You didn’t stop until you were filled to the hilt with him. Once he was fully inside you, your movements hesitated as you waited, allowing both of you to adjust to the new feeling. Your body felt like it was on fire. The feeling was indescribable.

“Move,” you heard Wonpil whine, bucking his hips slightly. You did as he asked and slowly started to rock on him, feeling every inch of him rub against your walls. “Fuck,” you hissed, leaning over to rest your hands on his chest and slowly started to roll your hips. A deep moan left Wonpil’s lips as the head of his cock hit deeper inside you than he thought possible. “Ride me,” he urged, his hands grabbing your ass and squeezing, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers.

You didn’t need to be told twice and started lifting your hips and sinking back down on him. 

“You feel so good, shit,” you heard him whimper from under you, his eyes shut. You started to move faster, ignoring the burn settling in your thighs as you bounced on him, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. 

“Fuck, I need more,” Wonpil said before sitting up, startling you with his sudden movements. 

He easily flipped both of you over so you were now on your back. He took over, thrusting into you at a much quicker pace. It would become apparent that at this rate, neither one of you would last long. You let out a loud yelp as Wonpil pushed your thighs further apart, slamming into you.

“Shit,” he gasped. “Am I hurting you?” you heard him ask from above you. You shook your head. 

“No,” you answered. “Please don’t stop.” Your eyes fluttered shut, back arching under him. “F-feels so good.” Wonpil slowed only for a moment as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a contrast to the sinful motions of his hips against yours. You could feel your wetness seep out of you, coating the insides of your thighs and spilling onto sheets beneath you, but you couldn’t find it within you to care at this point. 

All she wanted was him to fuck you mercilessly until you were a mess, screaming his name as if it were the only word you knew. “Wonpil,” you moaned, drawing his attention. The werecat slowed his pace to hear what his lover wanted to say.

“Yes?” he asked softly. 

“Fuck me,” you said softly. Wonpil’s brow furrowed. “Hmm?” Wonpil asked, not sure if he had heard you correctly. Had you just asked him to fuck you? Was that not what he was already doing? Was he not doing enough? Based on your body language and your reactions, he had been under the impression he was doing a pretty good job but maybe that wasn’t the case?

“I said fuck me,” you repeated. Wonpil tried to mask his insecurities with humor. 

“I thought I was already doing that,” he said, the confidence in his voice a screen for how he was feeling underneath, his self-esteem plummeting but the next words out of her mouth stopped his spiral and sent him soaring instead. “I want you fuck me harder,” you clarified, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “I want you to make me scream,” you added. 

Now understanding what you were saying, Wonpil smirked and wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders before grabbing your hips and pounding into you hard, just like you asked of him. You let out a cry of pleasure at being fucked the way you wanted.

Wonpil felt your nails dig into his bicep as he rocked into you, and he felt he could do better. He could get a louder scream out of you than that, surely. He angled his hips, the head of his cock now hitting your sweet spot and making you scream, back arching as his hips stuttered. 

‘Not yet,’ he told himself as he felt his orgasm impending. ‘I don’t want this to end.’ He slowed his hips to a deep roll, watching your face as your back arched off the sheets, eyes rolling back, and you let out a deep, wanton moan. Focusing more on your reaction to these deep rolls, Wonpil continued his slow, methodical pace until he felt his climax ebb away.

“What are you doing?” you whined, making Wonpil let out a soft chuckle. “I was about to finish,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t want this to end just yet,” he added. You opened your mouth to reply but your words fell short when a particularly hard thrust from Wonpil made you squeak instead. You bit into your bottom lip gently, letting your eyes flutter shut once more as the werecat continued to thrust into you sharply.

“Are you close?” you heard your lover ask. Feeling the familiar tension in your abdomen and the heat beginning to spread throughout your body, you nodded. 

“Yes,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m close.” 

Wonpil leaned down, crashing his lips against yours as he continued to rock into you, each stroke of his cock sending shivers of pleasure throughout your body. “Are you gonna come for me?” Wonpil whispered against your lips. With a soft whimper, you nodded, your thighs tightening around his waist as the knot in your stomach tightened unbearably before the tension snapped, your climax hitting you suddenly.

Watching you come undone under him, Wonpil let you ride it out before he chased his own high, thrusting quickly into you until his own release came and he spilled into you with a low, strained groan, painting your walls with his seed. 

His arms shaking, Wonpil allowed himself to rest his head in the crook of your neck, his ragged breathing matching your own as you both tried to regain what little composure you had left.

After a few minutes, Wonpil finally pulled back to look at you, lying beneath him and looking a vision. 

Your hair was a mess under your head, your cheeks flushed and your eyes glossy. There was an obvious post-coital glow to your skin and he swore right then and there that he’d never seen someone look so stunning before, so ethereal. Giving you a small smile, he leaned in once more to press his lips softly against yours in a chaste kiss. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked when the two of you parted, his lips brushing against yours. You smiled back at him, a content sigh leaving your lips. “Honestly?,” you asked, your breathing still heavy. “I feel fucking great,” you continued, one of your hands moving to cup his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, his heart skipping a beat as your thumb gently caressed his cheek. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to be close to anyone like this. To be intimate and open. It was nice, to say the least. 

Opening his eyes, Wonpil was met with the same beautiful creature that had been a moaning mess just a few moments before. After a few moments of staring at one another, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure and stealing a few kisses, you finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“Shall we get something to eat?” 

Wonpil nodded. “Sure,” he said, leaning in to kiss her in between his words. “But I have to make a quick trip home and grab a few things,” he added. Your brow furrowed, a small pout gracing your lips, making him chuckle as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I’m coming right back,” he said reassuringly as he nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling as you let out a giggle. 

His lips found yours again and he was surprised, but also not surprised, by how much he really didn’t want to stop kissing you. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He felt like he could finally open up and be himself. He hadn’t allowed himself that since before the curse. He’d spent so much time alone, he forgot how great it felt to be with someone.

Finally, after much insistence on your part, and the sounds of both of your stomachs rumbling, you convinced Wonpil to stay and eat first and then to head to his home and gather whatever he wanted to get. He watched as you got up, eyes wandering your body as you dressed slowly, making a show of it and making him chuckle.

You made your way into the kitchen, opening the wood burning stove to add more firewood. Wonpil watched from the tangle of sheets and blankets that was your bed as you stoked the fire and shut the door, adjusting the airflow so it would start heating up the cooktop.

After a few minutes of watching you work, Wonpil got up, pulling on his sweats and a shirt, walking over to where you stood and stopping behind you, pressing his lips against your head, sighing as you leaned back into him, his arms wrapping around you as you cooked.

Neither one of you said anything but there was no need to. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding between you. Wonpil felt safe even though you knew his secret and he knew yours. Nothing more needed to be said.

Sometime later, Wonpil sat with a mug of coffee in hand, his plate empty, as he watched you work your magic. The sun had finally come up fully, rays of light filtering through the forest canopy and into the windows of your cottage, dancing on the floor and over your belongings.

“Do you work today?” you asked, looking up at Wonpil over the rim of your own mug of coffee. Wonpil shook his head. “I don’t work weekends,” he answered, setting his now empty mug down. “But I really do need to get going,” he continued, glancing up as you pouted at him, making him chuckle again as he got up. “I have a few errands to run,” he added. 

You watched as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over head. Your eyes swept over him, admiring his body as his shirt rode up, exposing his belly button. Wonpil looked down and caught you staring, checking him out. Upon realizing you’d been caught, you tried to hide your smile by busying yourself with your coffee. 

“Do you really have to leave?” she asked, a hint of sadness to your tone. Wonpil smiled, rounding the small two person table, and leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss again. He really loved kissing you. It was becoming one of his favorite things to do.

“Yes,” he replied softly. “But I’ll be right back,” he added. “I promise.”

You nodded, leaning into him as he pressed his forehead against yours gently. “I promise I’m not dashing. I will be back later,” he reassured you before he stood upright and turned to head over to where the bed sat, grabbing his hoodie and then moving to the bench by the front door to slide on his shoes. 

Once he was dressed, he headed back over to where you were still sitting at the table. “Do you want me to grab anything while I’m out?” he asked. You thought only for a moment before shaking your head and smiling up at him. “No,” you answered, reaching up to caress his cheek. He pressed another kiss to your lips before you got up to walk him to the door. 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Wonpil asked again as he grabbed his jacket that hung by the door, pulling it on over his hoodie and watching your face as your eyes followed his movement. Oh how you want to pull him back to your bed, strip him and keep him wrapped up in your sheets.

You shook your head again. “No,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. “Just come back to me,” you whispered against his lips. Wonpil pulled you back in for another deeper kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you closer. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, pulling back to meet your gaze. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he added before stepping out into the cool forest.

The trip home to pack a bag only took a few minutes. Once he was done, he set the bag by the front door and looked around his flat, making sure it was locked and he didn’t forget anything. He had a change of clothes, his toothbrush, and the book he was currently reading. He turned off the lights and grabbed the bag before heading out into the crisp, cool afternoon.

He wasn’t lying when he said he had a few errands. It wasn’t exactly a few though, just one. Wonpil made his way to the post office to check his P.O box. He had all his mail sent there. He didn’t want to risk anyone from his past finding him and it seemed to work swimmingly so far. Once he arrived, he waited in the relatively long line to get into the small office.

While waiting he heard something he hadn’t in years.

“Wonpil?” He turned towards the voice that had spoken and his blood ran cold. “Yeeun?” he asked, his voice shaky. 

Before him stood his older sister. 

She rushed over and immediately enveloped him in a hug. Wonpil froze under her touch. ‘Why is she here?’ he asked himself, trying not to panic. ‘Why now?’ 

Yeeun pulled back and smiled up at him. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, a beaming smile spreading across her face. “My gods, you haven’t changed one bit,” she continued, laughing as she looked him over. Wonpil smiled nervously, looking over at the line and hoping it would move faster and give him a reason to escape his sister. 

“You look good,” she added. Wonpil looked back and could see that although a smile was on her face, it didn’t reach her eyes. Though he really had only himself to blame for that. He was the one who vanished without saying anything. He’d disappeared without a word to his sister or his parents.

For all they knew, he was missing and could have been dead. When they threatened to get the police involved, Wonpil knew he had to set them straight and tell them he was okay. He was safe and healthy and that he was just starting over in a new town. He kept his answers as vague as possible.

He never imagined his family would try to track him down but then again, he’d have done the same thing if it had been his sister or his mother, or his father. So he couldn’t really be that surprised, could he?

Shaking his thoughts from his mind, Wonpil focused on answering her. “Thanks,” he said softly. “What have you been up to?” she asked. Wonpil shrugged. “Just, uh, working,” he said as honestly as possible. “That’s all?” Yeeun asked, staring at him with a skeptical expression. “You’re telling me you ran away from your big fancy job in the city to work here?” she asked. “In this tiny town?”

Wonpil shrugged again. It wasn’t a good excuse and he knew it but in truth, he hadn’t been up to anything. He’d done nothing these last few years except keep a low profile. He never drew attention to himself, never made any friends. The only people he was friendly with were his coworkers and his boss. Even then, those relationships didn’t leave the shop.

Those were strictly professional relationships.

Truthfully, Wonpil had no friends here. Well, he had one now.

His thoughts of you were interrupted by his sister’s voice. “Why did you run away?” 

The question was harmless enough but Wonpil was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the current situation. “I just needed space,” he answered. That wasn’t a lie, he did need space. Sure, he could have communicated that but knowing his family, they wouldn’t have given him the space he needed in the city so the idea of leaving the city, leaving his job, his apartment, his life, and starting over somewhere else, somewhere where no one knew who he was seemed like the right choice.

Yeeun didn’t seem convinced. If anything, his answer only seemed to make her more upset.

“What happened to you?” she asked, an edge of pain to her voice. ‘If only I could tell you,’ Wonpil thought. ‘Things would be so much easier.’ Yeeun approached him, stepping forward only for Wonpil to pull back a step. How could he even begin to answer that question? ‘What was wrong with him?’

He knew the answer but how could he explain in a way that wouldn’t completely out his true nature?

Noticing him pull away, Yeeun smiled sadly at her younger brother. “We used to tell each other everything,” she said. “When did that stop?” It stopped when Wonpil’s life inexplicably changed for the worse. The moment he learned of the curse and of what he was to become. That moment changed everything. 

Wonpil shrugged again. “I don’t know, Yeeun,” he mumbled. “There are just some things we can’t tell each other,” he continued. He could tell his sister wasn’t buying it as Yeeun shook her head. “We’re family, Pil,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “We’re supposed to trust each other,” she continued. “We’re supposed to share things, no matter how hard they get.” Wonpil recoiled, pulling his hand from hers. He didn’t miss the look of hurt from his rejection on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Yeeun,” he said, taking another step back and trying to put some distance between them. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I just..” he trailed off and looked away from her, his eyes noticing the children outside skipping along the sidewalk, many of them dressed for the holiday.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Yeeun asked suddenly. ‘Yeah, but not the kind of trouble you’re thinking of.’ Wonpil thought pitifully. “Do you need money or something?” Yeeun continued. “Cause you know mom and dad would—” Wonpil cut her off as he put on a brave face, forcing a smile. “I’m okay, Yeeun,” he said firmly. “Really. There’s no trouble. I just wanted a fresh start.”

His sister still didn’t look convinced, her brow furrowed as she studied his face, his movements.

Wonpil cleared his throat. “And, uh, if you’re here to check on me because mom and dad asked you to, would you just tell them I’m fine. Okay? I’m much better now,” he stated. Yeeun didn’t look convinced, but sensing he wasn’t going to give her the explanation she wanted, she went with it. 

“If you say so,” she finally muttered. “Look, I’m staying at the inn,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He watched as she opened her purse, pulling out a pen and paper and jotting something down before handing it to him. Wonpil hesitantly took the paper, eyes falling on the numbers scrawled on the surface. “It’s my new number,” she explained. “I’ve got my own plan with my husband,” she continued, causing Wonpil to look up.

‘Married? Yeeun’s married?’ he asked himself. There was clearly a lot he’d missed being away for so long. What else had he missed? Yeeun spoke up, catching his attention. “Let’s go get dinner tonight, my treat. And we can catch up with each other.” Wonpil was considering it. He really had missed a lot of his sister was married. He didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend when he left.

As he was on the verge of accepting, he remembered that tonight was another night of transformation and your face suddenly came to his mind. Your smile and the way you looked as you knitted peacefully in your rocking chair while Wonpil sat close by, watching you with fascination.

Wonpil suddenly shook his head. “I can’t tonight, Yeeun,” he said softly. “I have plans.” Yeeun looked hurt yet again by his rejection, her smile dropping. “And you can’t cancel them?” she asked, the pain in her voice evident now. “I’m your sister, Pil,” she replied. It hurt him to hear her so hurt and to know he was the cause but he knew he couldn’t tonight. Not until the moon was waning.

Wonpil shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really can’t.” Yeeun looked defeated. Like she had tried her hardest, only to be blocked at every attempt. Wonpil hated hurting her like this but he knew deep down it was for the best. “Look,” he said, glancing at the door to the post office and back. 

Quickly, he grabbed Yeeun and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m really sorry for taking off the way I did,” he whispered in her ear. “Life was difficult and I needed a change. I just needed to get away from everything. I promise I’m better now,” he added.

When they parted, he gave Yeeun a genuine smile. “I love you,” he said as he backed away towards the door to the post office. Yeeun returned the smile weakly. “I love you too, Pil,” she answered. As he turned to leave, she called out to him one last time.

“Call mom, okay? She’s really worried about you. After promising he would, Wonpil gave her a parting wave and turned to enter the post office where he busied himself with getting his mail and checking it. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Yeeun was still lurking outside but was relieved to see she had crossed the street and was walking toward the town center.

Once he had sorted through his mail, Wonpil made his way back towards the forest. He checked several times to make sure Yeeun hadn’t doubled back and followed him but he didn’t see any sign of her. Relieved, he headed into the park, following the path that would take him to the cottage in the forest. 

He still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had and checked behind him once more to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He saw nothing and only heard the sounds of children laughing and playing in the park.

Heading deeper into the forest, he came across your cottage and his nerves were put at ease and he walked up to the door and knocked. The door immediately creaked open and Wonpil peered in. You sat in your chair, knitting away just as he pictured. You looked up as he entered, a warm smile spreading across your lips. 

“Did you finish your errands?” you asked, pausing your knitting as he walked over, nodding. He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “I did,” he added before moving to the foot of the bed, setting his bag down and moving to sit on the footstool in front of her. You glanced up at him, your smile widening. “What?” you asked, noticing the way he just stared at you with a smile on his face. 

Wonpil shook his head and only smiled. “What?” you asked again. Wonpil shrugged, still smiling at you without a word, his leg bouncing slightly as if he was anticipating something. “What are you doing?” you asked, setting your knitting down. Wonpil said nothing, but slid off the footstool, settling between your legs on the floor and smiling up at you. 

You glanced at the clock which told you you had a few more hours before Wonpil’s transformation. Wonpil noticed you looking at the clock and looked back at your face. “What?” he whispered, getting as close as possible. “I was just calculating how much time we have,” you replied. Wonpil watched as you set your knitting fully aside so it was no longer in your lap.

“How much time before what?” he asked playfully. You smiled at him, reaching to caress his cheek. “Before sunset,” you replied. “Oh? And why would you need to do that?” he asked, trying to hide his growing smile. You settled back in your chair. “Oh, just curious,” you retorted as Wonpil’s hands disappeared under your skirt. 

You maintained eye contact as you felt them slide up your legs, his arms pushing the material of your skirt up past your knees. You knew what he was doing and you knew what he would find if he kept moving. You’d planned this after he left. That morning hadn’t been enough for you.

You wanted more. 

Wonpil’s hands went higher, discovering you were, again, not wearing underwear. “Do you even own panties?” he asked, half joking, half serious. “Or do you just never wear them?” His inquiry caused you to bite her bottom lip and giggle. Not waiting for an answer, Wonpil lifted your skirt and disappeared under it, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

You grabbed the fabric of your skirt, pulling it up until Wonpil’s head was free. He grabbed your hips and pulled them forward towards him, licking his lips and glancing up at you. “I hope you have nothing planned for the rest of the afternoon,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, fingers carding through his dark locks. “Good, Wonpil said softly, lowering his gaze for a moment before looking back up to meet your eyes. “Cause I’m not going to be done for a while.”

You quickly learned he wasn’t kidding when he said that. It indeed took a couple hours for Wonpil to tease and coax you into a writhing, panting, and begging mess before he let her have you orgasm.

Wiping his lips and chin on his sleeve, Wonpil looked up at you, a devilish grin on his face as he could see you knew he wasn’t quite done with you. 

Grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet, the werecat led you towards the kitchen table. 

Pushing the empty basket and a few scraps of paper to the floor, he turned you around to face the table as you giggled and whispered that there wasn’t much time before he changed. “We have enough time,” he countered. “And in any case, I’m about to explode,” he continued, reaching down to grab fistfuls of your skirt and lift it up until your backside was exposed to him. 

Wonpil pushed you over, pressing your chest to the table as he hurriedly unzipped his jeans and started to push them down past his hips. He took himself in his hand, giving his length a few languid strokes and was about to guide himself inside your warm cunt when there was a sharp knocking at the door. 

The pair of you froze, staring at the wooden door. You glanced back at Wonpil who looked just as shocked as you did. “Are you expecting company?” Wonpil hissed to which you shook your head. “No,” you whispered as he let go of you. Quickly, you stood up straight, throwing your skirt down while Wonpil hurriedly tucked himself back into his pants.

Once the both of you were as composed as could be and the papers and basket picked up, you moved to unlock and pulled open the door. Wonpil heard you converse with someone outside but couldn’t hear who it was. He watched as you turned to look at Wonpil in shock before turning to speak to the visitor once more. She opened the door fully and in walked a face Wonpil had seen hours earlier.

“Yeeun?” he asked, quickly rounding the table and walking over to his sister. She glanced around the interior of the cottage before her eyes settled on him. She rushed to him. “What are you doing here?” Wonpil asked. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she replied, again glancing around the cottage, her eyes reaching you, offering her a kind smile. “I’m so sorry for intruding like this,” she added.

You shook your head, glancing at Wonpil. “It’s no intrusion,” you replied. Yeeun turned to her brother. “So this is what you meant when you said you had plans you couldn’t cancel?” she asked. Wonpil shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that, Yeeun,” he said. “How?” Yeeun asked, tearing up. “How is it so complicated that you can’t tell me, your sister?” she demanded.

You glanced between the two before looking at the clock. Wonpil caught this out of the corner of his eye. It was getting close. He needed to get Yeeun out of the house and fast. “Look, I can’t explain it right now,” Wonpil said, taking his sister’s hands and speaking directly to her. “But you can’t stay here.”

Yeeun’s eyes widened. “Are you kicking me out?” she asked. Wonpil hummed. “I don’t want to,” he said. “Then don’t! Stop shut me out,” she interrupted. Wonpil glanced at the clock. He had two minutes to get her out of the cottage before he changed. “Look, Yeeun, I can’t explain it right now and I love you, but you need to leave,” he pleaded. Yeeun pulled her hands from his and moved to sit down on the sofa.

“I’m not leaving until you explain why you couldn’t cancel your plans and why I can’t be here,” she said stubbornly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Your eyes widened and you looked from Yeeun to Wonpil as he shook his head and walked over to Yeeun and knelt in front of her.

“Yeeun, please, just trust me,” he said. Yeeun shook her head slowly. “I do trust you, but what are you hiding from me? From mom and dad? What are you so afraid of?” Yeeun asked. Wonpil started to respond but his voice caught in his throat. He glanced at the clock which said the time was 7:01. His eyes widened. You glanced out the back window of your cottage as the last rays of sunlight died, sinking below the horizon. ‘It was too late.’ 

“Yeeun,” he said, standing up and backing away. She stood to follow him but you caught her. “Don’t,” Yeeun said, trying to free herself but you shook her head. “Just trust,” was all you said. Yeeun turned to look at Wonpil who was beginning to change. She watched in horror as her brother transformed right before her, his body twisting and morphing into something not human. He started to shrink, slowly until he disappeared inside his clothes. 

Yeeun’s eyes widened as the clothing moved and a slender black cat shimmied out of the shirt her brother had just been wearing. Yeeun looked from the black cat to you and back. “What the fuck?!” she shrieked. You led her back to the sofa, guiding her to sit down. “Sit here,” you said. “I’ll make some tea.”

A few minutes later, with a cup of tea in hand, you began to explain everything to Yeeun who sat still and listened, hanging onto your every word. Once you had finished, you sat back in your armchair, Wonpil now resting on your lap and you gave him a few pets. Yeeun stared at the cat as it fixed her with its yellow-eyed gaze. She shivered and looked away.

“So my brother turns into a black cat once a month for a week?” she asked. You nodded. “He does,” you replied. Yeeun stared, mouth slightly agape. “Huh,” was all she said before setting the teacup on the coffee table. “Interesting,” she added. “You know, if I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I’d say you were crazy,” she said leaning back onto the sofa, a soft laugh escaping her. You joined her.

A loud shattering of glass caught both of your attention and you reacted, sitting up quickly while Yeeun yelped. Wonpil jumped down from your lap and ran over to investigate the rock now sitting on the rug. You waved your hand and repaired the window, the glass on the floor flying up and settling back in place as if the window never broke. Yeeun stared in shock before she whispered, “oh I need that in my house.”

Getting up, you walked over and peered out the window where you saw a group of teenage boys outside your home. The same ones who had been tormenting Wonpil the other day. You turned to Yeeun. “Go into the bathroom and lock the door,” you said as you hurried over to the front door, Wonpil hot on your heels. Yeeun did as she was told and got up, rushing to barricade herself in the bathroom. 

You stopped at the door and reached down to pick up Wonpil, setting him on the shelf by the window. “Stay inside, please,” you whispered before opening the door and disappearing outside. He watched through the window as you walked a few yards from your door to face down the gang.

“Look boys,” one of them said. “It’s the Witch in the Woods,” he said mockingly. You said nothing as they continued to taunt and mock you. “You gonna put a curse on us, witchy?” one boy said in a singsong voice. “Oh no, she’s gonna hex us!” another shouted, followed by them all laughing.

One of the boys picked up a rock and hurled it at the house, hitting the same window again. Wonpil’s back arched as he watched the boys advance on his lover. You glanced back at the house and turned back to the boy who had thrown the stone. He held another, tossing it up lazily and catching it again, a smug expression on his face. You sighed softly.

“I just fixed that window,” you said, turning to wave your hand and fix the window again. While you were distracted, the boy threw the rock in his hand at the other window where Wonpil’s cat form could be seen. He jumped out of the way just in time as the glass shattered. You spun around to check to see if Wonpil was injured. When you couldn’t see him in the window, you turned back to the boys, your body heating up quickly as blind rage took over you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, the whites exposed and started glowing as your whole body lifted a few inches off the ground, the edges of your clothes slowly lifting as if you were weightless. You started to float forward. The boys, unsure if this was a prank or not, looked at each other in panic. Suddenly, you body lurched forward at quick speed until you were mere inches from the boy who had thrown the rock.

Your hand shot out, grabbing him, your fingers tightening around his neck. Your face scrunched up as your rage continued to fuel your actions. “You think it’s funny?” you asked in a deep, guttural voice that Wonpil had never heard before. Your own voice was layered over it, almost as if two people were speaking at once. If Wonpil didn’t know any better, he’d be terrified. 

“You think it’s fun to throw rocks at people’s homes and hurt innocent animals?” The boy stammered out an apology, clawing at your hand around his throat. One of the other boys snuck behind you and picked up another rock, clearly intending to use it to harm.

Wonpil peeked out the window just in time to see another boy throw a rock at you, hitting you in the back of the head. He let out a deep growl and felt his body grow hot. His low cat growl turned into a snarl as he leapt down from the shelf onto the floor of the cottage.

Outside, you could hear a snarling growing louder and louder from inside the cottage. All eyes turned towards the cottage to look as sounds of smashing and tearing could also be heard. A loud roar, like a panther, emitted from the house and as suddenly as it started, the sounds stopped. The forest went deafeningly silent before the front door was splintered apart and a massive humanoid creature covered in black fur clawed its way out of the broken door.

You stared in awe, dropping the boy you held by the throat as the rest of the boys clamored and scrambled away in terror as the monstrous figure advanced on them. It stood almost 7 feet tall, covered in thick black fur that glistened in the moonlight. Large triangular ears stood upright with tufts of fur at the ends. Sharp fangs, covered in saliva were exposed as the creature snarled.

It stood on two legs, claws digging into the dirt. It flexed its fingers, biceps rippling before claws extended from the tips of its fingers. It was a monstrous cat. A true werebeast and a fearsome sight to behold. Your eyes widened as it advanced on the group of terrified teens, a low menacing growl emanating from it.

The boys stared in terror at the beast as it gazed upon them with fierce, glowing, yellow eyes. It stepped forward and let out a roar that shook the ground, the trees rattling and sending owls into the sky with hoots and shrieks of fear. The boys scrambled to hurry away, running as fast as their legs could carry them as they screamed in horror.

You turned your head, glancing towards the path, watching the boys disappear into the dark before you turned to face the beast. It turned to you, no longer snarling as it bent down, in a sort of diminutive pose. You smiled, reaching up to caress the creature’s cheek. 

“So you found your true form,” you said, smiling at it.

Wonpil looked down at you before looking down at himself. He was no longer a house cat but a true werecat. He didn’t know what triggered it, but he knew now that if he needed to, he could protect himself and those he cared about. The sound of birds in the distance signaled that the night had ended. Wonpil shifted slowly back as the sky began to lighten.

You pulled off your shawl and handed it to Wonpil who took it with a whisper of thanks. He tied it around his waist and the pair looked at each other before a crashing sound caught their attention. They both turned to see Yeeun making her way through the wreckage and looked up at them.

“Did I miss all the action?” she called. Wonpil let out a laugh and shook his head as he and you walked back towards the cottage to fill Yeeun in on what went down. “I can’t believe I missed seeing that!” Yeeun said as she Wonpil walked her to the door. She turned to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you for taking care of my brother,” she said, smiling, a gesture you returned. “Of course,” you replied. Yeeun turned to Wonpil and pulled him into a hug. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag,” she said and Wonpil groaned, rolling his eyes at the pun. “Don’t be a stranger,” Yeeun added, softly punching her little brother’s shoulder. Wonpil smiled and nodded. “I won’t, but please don’t tell mom and dad.”

Yeeun laughed loudly. 

“Yeah, no thanks. You can have that conversation with them,” she said as she stepped outside into the woods. She waved as she walked away, heading down the path. Wonpil turned to you. He felt a pang of guilt. He’d destroyed the entrance of your cottage, the wood was splintered and there was no way to salvage it. 

Not only that, but your secret was no longer a secret.

Wonpil reached out, gently taking your hand. “So,” he started. “What will you do now?” he asked, watching as you shrugged. “Move, I guess,” you said simply, looking around at the trashed cottage front entrance. “I think that’s all I can do now,” she added. Wonpil nodded. “Where will you go?” he asked.

“Maybe the mountains,” you answered, looking around. “There’s a hidden cabin up there,” you continued as you waved your hand. From under the bed, a couple of suitcases appeared, floating up, opening, and landing on the bed. 

With another wave, your things started packing themselves, clothes and trinkets. With another wave, the bench at the end of your bed moved, the cushion floating off and revealing a trunk. Wonpil followed you as you continued to pack your things. 

Wonpil had accepted you were going to leave but up into the mountains? So far away? Before he could stop himself he spoke.

“What about us?” he asked. He watched as you froze before turning slowly towards him. “What about us?” you repeated. Wonpil shifted nervously. Had he overthought this whole relationship? Were you not as invested in it as he was? Was he just a passing thought to you? As his thoughts spiraled, he decided to ask you a simpler question. 

“What if I came with you?” he asked hesitantly.

You stared at him incredulously and initially, Wonpil thought that you didn’t want him to do that but when you spoke, he realized why you looked so shocked. “Wait,” you started, turning to face him fully. “You’d do that?” you asked. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him, it was that you weren’t sure if he would want to give up his life in town. 

With a smile, Wonpil nodded. “Of course,” he said. “That’s what you do when you love someone,” he admitted. “And I already know I’m falling for you. I’d follow you anywhere.” For a moment you were silent and still before you finally crossed the room to where he stood, throwing yourself into his arms.

Wonpil caught you, holding you just as tightly while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’d love it if you came with me,” you muttered into his neck. Relief flooded him with your admission. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. There was only one decision to make. 

“That settles it,” he said softly, tightening his hold. “ I’m coming with you.”

ONE YEAR LATER

Wonpil reached the steps leading up to the cabin and kicked his boots against the steps to loosen the snow that collected in the treads of his snow boots. He glanced out over the frozen mountain lake, smiling up at the sun that beamed down, offering a small amount of warmth. Once at the door, he unlocked and opened it, stepping inside and taking his hat off. He kicked off his boots and continued further into the cabin to set the bags of groceries he’d gotten from town.

After putting them away, he removed his coat and scarf, tucking it with his gloves in the pockets of his coat before hanging it up in the hall closet. He shut the door and heard soft singing coming from upstairs. He slowly made his way up the steps and into the large room across from the landing where the door was wide open.

Peering in, he saw you sitting in a rocking chair, rocking softly as you sang a lullaby in a language he didn’t know but it was a song he’d heard you sing before. In your arms rested a bundle of blankets. Wonpil quietly walked into the room, making his way over to where you sat. 

Looking up as he approached, you smiled up at him as he reached you before looking back down at the baby fast asleep in your arms. “Has she eaten?” Wonpil asked softly as he leaned down to kiss your cheek before he reached out, gently stroking the sleeping child’s cheek with the back of his finger. You nodded, continuing to sing the lullaby to your baby.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, looking at the smiling mother. You nodded again. “Yes,” you replied just as softly. “But I wouldn’t say no to some hot chocolate,” you added. Wonpil smiled and kissed your forehead. “One hot chocolate, coming right up,” he said before making his way downstairs.

While he heated up the milk on the stove, he stared out into the woods on the backside of their property where he saw several deer trudging through the snow. He heard a door shut softly and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. He added the chocolate to the milk to melt it as it heated up.

He glanced up as you entered the kitchen and looked around. “Where are the groceries?” you asked. Wonpil looked back down, a smile on his face. “I already put them away,” he said. You gave him a playful glare. “We’re supposed to put them away together,” you reminded him as you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. 

Wonpil smiled as he continued to make hot chocolate.

A few minutes later, the two of them sat on the covered screened in porch, looking out over the frozen lake and sipping on their hot chocolates from mugs, a large blanket resting on their laps. Wonpil smiled, letting out a chuckle as you nestled into his side, letting out a sigh of content. 

“I love this,” Wonpil whispered, reaching over to pull the blanket up where it had slipped down your lap before taking another sip. “I love you,” you said as you looked up at him and smiled. Wonpil leaned over to kiss your cheek but caught your lips as you turned your head instead, making him laugh.

“I love you, too.”

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@yoonguurt