#jeon wonwoo x you

[seungcheorry]

it's kinda confusing how it got to this point. one moment you're just pressing your body against wonwoo, softly humming in his ear as you wake up from your sleep; on the next, he's knuckles deep inside you, sleepy eyes staring you behind his glasses.

"you're so needy in the morning", he mumbles, pressing small kisses on your shoulder, fingers working magic inside you.

you moan his name, opening your eyes the moment you feel him hovering you. it's cute how his hair is a mess, his pale skin contrasting with your gray covers and his dark glasses framing his pretty, bloated face.

it's also hot how wonwoo part his lips to groan, an instinct taking over him as he suddenly take off his glasses and throw them beside you, body slipping under the covers so his face is now between your thighs.

he smirks when you moan his name once again, fingers tugging on his hair. he's just as desperate as you at this point, wanting nothing more than to have your taste on his mouth so he can properly start his day.

and that's what he gets. wonwoo uses everything he can - tongue, lips, fingers, nose -, and he smiles against you when you come undone, relaxing your entire body on the mattress.

"good morning, indeed", he chuckles, sucking his fingers clean.

[svtiddiess]

Wontiddies

Synopsis: Wonwoo's tiddies have gotten so big and firm, you can't help but take a bite.

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, drabble, slightly suggestive

Rating: sfw

Word count: 376

Warnings: biting of tiddies, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This had to be done, have you seen how big his tiddies are lately?!

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Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

A soft heartbeat thumps in your ear as you lie on Wonwoo's chest, feeling safe in his arms. After a hectic workweek, this was exactly what you needed: cuddled up in bed in Wonwoo's arms as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone, his hand resting over you like a weighted blanket.

His chest is one of your favourite places to rest—warm and comforting, with the steady sound of his heartbeat that never fails to lull you to sleep. Jeon Wonwoo's chest is the world’s best pillow, and it’s reserved just for you. Smiling to yourself, you shift in his arms and place your hand over a bare pec.

You give it a squish and furrow your brows. Has his chest always been this firm and big? He’s always had a well-built chest, but never this firm. You squeeze again, a bit harder this time. Damn, all those hours in the gym with Mingyu are definitely paying off because his chest feels noticeably firmer. No wonder it feels extra comfy tonight.

You start squishing his chest again, playing with it like a stress ball. Maybe you should do this whenever you’re stressed, you think to yourself. Wonwoo doesn’t pay any mind, already accustomed to your little quirks. You’ve always been the clingier one in the relationship, so he’s used to you latching onto him and squeezing him in all sorts of positions.

A sudden thought pops into your mind: you need to bite his chest. You feel an overwhelming urge to sink your teeth into the firm muscle. So, you shift closer and do exactly that, grinning as you take a playful bite.

“Love? What are you—” he groans, feeling your teeth press into his pec.

“I’m biting your tiddie—they just looked too biteable,” you say with a cheeky grin, looking up at him.

“Will you let me bite your tiddies, Nonu?” you pout, giving him the puppy eyes you know he can’t resist.

He licks his lips, takes a shaky breath, and nods. You smile, knowing Wonwoo can never say no to you. You lean back down and start sucking on the flesh, and you can feel him shift and groan under you. Oh, this is going to be a long night for sure.

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@miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @jennwonwoo

[daisymbin]

[00:24] - jeon wonwoo

a/n: amidst the sadness, an idea came and I just had to 🤷‍♀️ not proofread!!! + I am drowsy, hopefully there's not too many errors.

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

"wonwoo," you whispered as you forced your eyes to peek open despite the exhaustion, "will you still read me to sleep when we're both 80, old, and grey?"

wonwoo chuckles, he closes the book in his lap shut, putting it on the bedside table as he removes his glasses and places them on top of the book & dims the lights. "i think the better question is if I can still see when I'm 80, or if I'm even alive!" he laughs a sound so deep your stomach flutters.

"wonwoo! why would you say that?" you whined as you lightly pushed his hand away in faux defiance.

"what?—I'm just being realistic!" he said a little too defensively, but wonwoo cant help the biggest shit-eating grin that makes its way to his face when he watches as your eyes light up in annoyance.

"do you have to be like that all the time? can't we play pretend? that we're 80, old and grey and healthy?" you asked as you turn slightly to look at him.

"if that's the case, then..." he trails off as he pulls you a little closer, just a little, just enough to close the gap between the two of you. he slides his hand down your arm till they reach your hand, interlocking your fingers, "I'd read to you every night 'till death do us apart."

you're certain you can trace the small curve on wonwoo's lips despite the dim lights.

"till death do us apart," you whispered it like it was a sacred promise.

"till death do us apart." wonwoo echoes, as if acknowledging this sacred promise.

a smile tugs at your lips when you feel the soft warmth of wonwoo's lips against your racing temple; your thoughts scatter away with the night wind.

"I love you," you both say at the same time, a sudden freeze in the room.

"I love you too," you both say at the same time.

wonwoo laughs as he pulled the blankets up and tugged you flush against his warm body. an arm goes around you as you settle your head on his chest; the steady rhythm of his heartbeat hypnotising you instantly.

"goodnight, wonwoo."

"goodnight, sleepyhead. I love you, so much."

a kiss on his cheek is the last thing wonwoo feels against his skin as he closes his eyes and moves to cuddle you fully, a smile on his lips as he snuggles further into your hair, breathing you in. & "i love you, wonwoo." is the last thing wonwoo hears before he drifts off to sleep.

[mingtinys]

" i already have the world "

pairing : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : unsure if i'm happy with this , but the writers block was BAD and so i ended up falling victim to the gamer!wonwoo trope

You truly wonder how Wonwoo still finds it in himself to wake up as early as he does to make his various schedules. Especially when it's already two in the morning yet he's still locked in on his computer screen, furiously clicking away. Meanwhile, you're walking a very thin line of consciousness.

If it weren't for the giant glowing monitor and the voices shouting through Wonwoo's headset, you probably would've lost your battle against sleep by now. And judging from the increasingly irritated shouts of Seungcheol and Jihoon for Mingyu to "go left," it sounds like Wonwoo's team is losing theirs.

"Your other left, idiot," You just barely make out Jihoon's exhausted words. "Wonwoo, please help him, you're closest."

"Yeah, I'm already on it. Someone cover me–" There's a pause, then a sad tune plays and you force your eyelids back open just wide enough to catch the giant "LOSE" written across the display. "Never mind, good game."

"It was most definitely not," Seungcheol complains.

"One more round?" Mingyu asks, even though this is their fifth "one more round."

"Yeah, just give me a minute and we can start," Wonwoo says before promptly muting his mic. He nudges you with his shoulder, earning a very unamused groan back in response.

"You can go to bed if you want," he chuckles.

"Alone?" You whine, which only makes him laugh more.

"You're right, what a ridiculous idea," he teases. "This is the last one for real this time, promise."

You're head falls to Wonwoo's shoulder with a sigh. He readjusts, allowing you to rest more comfortably. With your newfound pillow, sleep easily consumes you.

Your breathing slows down to a steady pace almost instantly and Wonwoo glances down with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry I kept you up," he whispers, placing a feathery kiss on the top of your head.

He unmutes his mic. "Hey, sorry guys, I'm gonna log off for the night."

"What? Dude, we're just about to start. Please don't leave me with Seungcheol and Jihoon!" Mingyu urges. Wonwoo contemplates it, a match would only be around twenty minutes. But one more look at your sleeping form and that thought is gone as soon as it comes.

"Sorry, it's late, good luck though."

"Wait!" Mingyu tries again. "What if I buy you lunch tomorrow?"

"Goodnight, Mingyu."

"A coffee? Your favorite pastry from that bakery half an hour away? The world? What's it gonna take?"

"Mingyu, stop being dramatic and let the man go to bed." Seungcheol chastises.

Wonwoo secures his arm around your waist and pulls you against him when he notices your head slipping from his shoulder. An action that makes you snuggle further into his side in your unconscious state. Perhaps his heart has gone a little soft, but no offer could possibly amount to the moments like these he gets to spend with you.

So while lunch and a coffee is a tempting offer, it simply doesn't compare. "Besides," he says in a last goodbye into the mic. "I already have the world."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi

[straylightdream]

body and soul

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

↳ after a terrible day at work there is nothing more he wants then to go on a motorcycle ride with you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?, non idol au, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, they’re both so incredibly down bad for each other, wonwoo rides a motorcycle (I don’t know if that’s a warning), teasing, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: this can be read as a one shot but it’s also connected to king of my heart, but you don’t need to read that to understand this story. Thank you @whimsical-whatever so much for helping me figure out this story.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: creampie, wonwoo has breeding kink even though he doesn’t want to admit it, sex outside (but no one is around) sex against a brick wall, lingerie kink, cum play, oral in the shower (him rec), possibly snowballing

Sometimes after a long day Wonwoo likes to go on motorcycle rides to just release stress. Once he met you he realized being around you took all the weight off his shoulder whenever he was stressed. He still absolutely loved riding his bike. He loves when he gets to ride with you sitting behind holding on to him. There is nothing quite like the feeling of him riding while your arms are wrapped tightly around him.

A shitty day at work led him to going straight to your apartment instead of his own. He knew Mingyu was home from work already and his girlfriend was over.

He’s been with you for almost two years now and he doesn’t even bother knocking; he'd just type in his key code you gave him. He finds you sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop in front of you. Even when you weren’t on the clock you were always looking at work related things at home.

“Baby,” he smiles as you look up.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you smile back.

“Can you go on a ride with me?” He doesn’t want to think about work, he just wants to not think at all and ride his bike with you.

“Yeah, let me change real quick.” You’re dressed in a small pair of lounge shorts that aren’t suitable for riding.

He sets his helmet down on your coffee table and sits down on your big couch near the window. He spends a few minutes browsing through his phone and letting Mingyu know he has the apartment to himself tonight. He doesn’t plan on sleeping in his own bed. He much rather sleeping here with you.

You walk out into the living room dressed in joggers and a jacket. Holding the bike helmet Wonwoo got you. Very early on in your relationship he bought you your own motorcycle helmet. He loved being able to go on rides with you.

He stands up and grabs your hand leading you out of the apartment.

-

Riding down the street your arms are wrapped tightly around his waist as your head rests against his back. You feel at ease just being with him like this.

Something about Wonwoo always makes you feel like you’re whole. That something deep inside of you was missing before him. If soulmates are real you know he’s yours.

Before him you had never ridden on a motorcycle and now it’s one of your favorite ways to travel with him.

The first drop of water you felt left you confused. Glancing, you saw the dark clouds above you. You didn’t bother looking at the weather but it hasn’t rained recently.

Within moments it starts to pour. Your outfit was not fit for the rain.

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo says loud enough for you to hear over his bike.

He sees some buildings that look closer. Quickly he pulls his bike into a covered dark all that’s absolutely empty. He helps you off the bike and unbuckles your helmet. You pull it off handing it to him. You can’t help but feel cold with how wet you got in that unexpected downpour.

“Baby I didn’t think it was supposed to rain.” He reaches up pushing the rain for your cheeks.

“It’s okay.��

“I think we’re stuck here for a while. It looks like all these businesses are closed.”

You can’t help but shake a little. You definitely weren’t dressed for the rain and your joggers you wore are wet and sticking to your skin. “Baby I’m sorry,” he takes your helmet from your hands and sets it on the back of his bike. He wastes no time pulling you close to his body. “Let me warm you up.” He holds you close, rubbing your body. He leans his head down resting his face against your neck. He doesn’t kiss your neck but his lips gently brush the sensitive spot on your neck that always turns you on. A soft gasp passes your lips.

“I didn’t mean to touch there,” he whispers against the sensitive spot. His large hands continue to rub your back as you hold him close. His breath keeps hitting the sensitive side of your neck turning you on. He’s managing to get you wet without trying.

Without thinking you grind your hips forward hoping for some sort of friction.

A soft moan passes your lips. “Does someone like it when I’m close to her neck?” He says with his lips ghosting your sensitive spot.

“Fuck-“

“You know we’re away from anyone who can see. We’re behind a building facing a forrest.” You know exactly what he’s insinuating. And at the moment you don’t care that you could possibly get caught. You just want Wonwoo to fuck you.

“Baby,” you whimper. With his fingers tangled in your hair he walks you back to the brick wall behind you. His hands protect your head and he gently pushes you against the wall.

“Are you going fuck me against this wall?”

He swallows staring at you with lust filled eyes, “fuck I want to.”

“What happened to your breeding kink being your only thing that makes you kinky?” You tease.

“Does it me fucking you against this wall make me kinky?”

“I think so,” you smile.

“Also it’s not a breeding kink.” He says between kisses against your jaw.

“You’re obsessed with cumming inside me.” You give him a smile.

“I’m not trying to get you pregnant though?” His eyes narrow at you.

“We can agree to disagree,” you crash your lips into his once again.

Pulling away from you he makes quick work by pushing off your joggers. He unbuckled belt and pushes down his jeans and boxers just below his ass. His hard cock slaps against his stomach. If you weren’t out in broad daylight you would get down on your knees and suck the life out of him.

“Are you going to leave my underwear on?” You notice that he left you in your pink thong.

“Pull it to the side for me,” he says as he pumps himself a few times.

“Are we going to talk about your lingerie kink?” You have no problem with him fucking you while you’re still wearing your panties. It actually turns you on to for some reason. Maybe you also have a lingerie kink.

“You’re being extra sassy today,” he steps closer, lifting your leg.

“What can I say I get turned on when you get flustered.” You pull your panties to the sides.

He thrust into you causing a gasp to pass your lips.

Pressed up against the wall he has your leg under his arm. This isn’t the easiest angle to work with, but he’s not gonna let it stop him. In the two years you’ve been together you’ve never had sex outdoors like this where someone could see you if they went behind the buildings where the alley was. You’ve definitely had a sex in the back seat of Wonwoo’s car before, but that’s different from this. Something about this turns you on more than you ever thought it could. The angle he’s thrusting into you has his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit.

Your head leans back resting against the brick wall taking in the sensation. Leaning forward you sloppily kiss him. His thrusts are quicker than normal. Ramming up into you over and over. You’re pretty sure he’s nudging your cervix with each thrust. Covering your mouth you try your hardest not scream his name. You might be alone out here, but if people hear you screaming and moaning they might come see what is happening.

“Fuck-“ you whimper.

“You feel tighter than normal,” he moans. Your hand talons into his shoulder holding on to him for dear life. The way he’s thrusting into you hitting the perfect spot has your toes curling. His pelvis continues to rub your clit leaving you gasping.

The sound of the echoing rain is helping to drown out your moans. You can’t keep quiet.

“I’m close,” you whine.

“Please come with,” he moans.

A white hot wave washes over you. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair pulling him closer to you. He paints your walls white and continues to slowly thrust up into you riding out his high. His lips are leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive skin in your neck.

“I don’t have anything to clean you up with,” he says softly as he’s still snug inside you.

“It’s okay it’s not the first I’m going to be walking around with you cum inside me.” You’ve had sex a handful times in bathrooms at parties the boys have thrown leaving you in this same predicament.

“We can take a hot shower when we get back to your place and I’ll clean you up.”

-

The rain finally let up and after an hour of huddling against Wonwoo and talking it was finally safe to ride back to your apartment.

He kept his word and the moment you were inside he dragged you off to take a hot shower together.

You shower couldn’t even start innocently. The moment the water was warm enough you were on your knees in front of him. He gently held your hair away from your face as your took him in your mouth as much as he would fit. You hand rest on his thigh while the other plays with his balls. You know exactly what to do to make him fall apart quickly.

You look up at him through your lashes. He looks beautiful in his lust filled haze. “Baby pull off if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth,” he moans.

You continue your motion. You were never a fan of giving someone head let alone swallowing before you met him. Now going down on him is one of your favorite things to do. Glancing up and looking for see his stomach muscles tighten letting you know he’s on the brink. His grip on your hair tightens and he moans your name loudly. He fills your mouth with his salty release. You release him from your mouth with a pop. Without a second thought you swallow everything he gave you.

He helps you to your feet and crashes his lips into yours not caring if he taste himself on you. He holds your face with both hands.

“I love you so much,” he says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

“Let me clean you up and wash your hair.”

He keeps his promise from the alley and cleans your body before he’s standing behind you massaging your strawberry shampoo into your hair.

“Wonwoo would you ever think about moving out of your apartment with Mingyu?” You asked him the question that has been on your mind for a while.

“It depends, are you asking me to move in with you?” His fingers are still massaging your scalp.

“I mean I live alone and we could set your computer up in my small office. I don’t mind working in the kitchen when I get to work from home.” This feels odd you aren’t facing each other while you’re having this conversation. You didn’t plan on talking about this in the shower but this has been constantly on your mind.

“Have you been thinking about this a lot?” It’s almost as if he can read your mind. “Baby turn around and rinse your hair.”

Stepping away from him you let the warm water wash the shampoo away from your hair. “Well yeah. Also don’t you feel like at some point Mingyu is going to want to live with his girlfriend?” You work on getting the shampoo out of your hair.

“Probably.” He seems so calm.

“Do you not want to move in now? We could always discuss this later.” You suddenly feel anxious that he’s not ready. Maybe you’re thinking too far ahead. You step out from the water and step closer to him where he’s holding your conditioner.

He gives you a smile pushing some wet hair behind your ear. “Baby, of course I want to move in with you. It would be nice for us to have a place just for us.”

“Okay I would like for us to live together,” you smile.

“Does that mean we always get to sleep naked?” He gives you a goofy smile. Of course that’s one of his first questions.

“Of course. Does that mean I’m going to wake up to you fucking me all the time?” You gave permission to Wonwoo very early on in your relationship that if wanted to start having sex with you while you’re asleep he can. There isn’t anything quite like waking up to him pushing into you from behind while you sleep.

“Obviously, now turn around so I can finish your hair.”

Things with Wonwoo are always easy. For some reason they always have been. He’s your person, it’s almost as if you were made for each other. You’re excited for your next step in your relationship and you can’t wait to see what the future holds.

[kooqitas]

have you ever tried this one? - svt hiphop unit fav positions 🔞

★ m.list | inbox

scoups: all fours/dog style

cheol loves to fuck you anyway, but when you put your face in the pillow and stick your ass up as much as you can he fucks you like an animal, spanks your ass calling you a whore, pushes your head even further against the pillow, suffocating you there, and then pulls your hair hard. he likes to see you grabbing the sheets while you moan his name, he likes to bring his mouth close to your ear just to whisper that he's going to make you leak his cum.

wonwoo: sideways

they say that to fuck sideways you need to have a big dick, and well... wonwoo has that, he loves to fuck you sideways, feel your whole ass glued to him while he thrusts you faster and harder, he always alternates what to do with his hands, sometimes he plays with your nipple, sometimes he touches your clit, sometimes he chokes you and sometimes he puts some fingers in your mouth for you to choke, and every time you cum screaming his name, cum hard while he calls you a 'dumb bitch'.

vernon: ride

hansol is always in control of the situation, except when you're on top of him, the man seems to lose all and any sense when you ride him, he never knows whether to grab you and encourage you to go faster and harder or just let you have fun on his cock, fuck, he cums so fast in this position that it's pathetic, but damn, he can't resist seeing your tits bouncing in front of him while you moan like a slut, and you also cum embarrassingly fast, feeling how completely desperate vernon is with your pussy

mingyu: standing

mingyu doesn't go to the gym for nothing, damn what he likes to do most is to hold you in his arms while he fucks you, without the support of the wall, without the support of a table, chair, or anything, he likes to see you completely held by him, the way his arms move along with his big dick to go deeper and deeper, you always see stars when this happens, mingyu using all his strength just to eat you, making a point of saying all the time how much he's opening you, how deep he's going, that he's going to destroy your pussy, damn, mingyu is insane...

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[pasteidolons]

pincushion - jww

pairing: tailor!jeon wonwoo x bookbinder!reader genre: 1960's, romance, angst, fluff, smut (MDNI 18+) warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex), no use of y/n, afab reader, an overabundance of 60's references oops word count: 19.9k summary: when a newly appointed tailor stops into your shop one autumn morning, you're unaware the impact he would have on your life for better or for worse.

1963, Autumn. The small knife in hand cuts through the thin leather with relative ease, stopping at the point you’d marked with a small piece of chalk, you switch to cut the other end of the material. You eye the coffee sitting on the opposite end of your work bench, watching the steam rise from the cup that you’d barely taken a drink from. It’s only nine in the morning and you hadn’t slept well the night before, had there not been any orders to fill you would have slept in a while longer. 

With the leather finally cut into its allotted pieces you go to move to the bound paper you were trying to cover before you hear someone walk in. The chimes above the door at the front of your shop sound off with a soft resonance, the same sound that had echoed the room for years. Footsteps tread carefully into the center of your shop, you can’t eye the stranger from your closed off workshop unless you open the heavy wooden door. 

A quiet “Hello?” rings out, they sound apprehensive and unfamiliar to you. There’s a tinged worry that treads on the lone word, leaving you all the more perplexed as you set down the leather and the semicircular knife onto your workshop table and head out into the main gallery of your shop. 

“Can I help you?” Question falling from your lips as soon as you begin to push open the oak door, finding a taller man looking down at one of the fabric laden books on one of the display tables. 

“Oh,” his attention turns to you from the book, to the doorway you’d entered from and then back to you.  The horn-rimmed glasses adorning his face slipping down the bridge of his nose. “I’m here to pick up an order for Seungcheol Choi.” His slender hand moves from its once stagnant position to push the glasses back up before moving to his right-side front pocket, “I can show you the receipt if you need it—”

“There’s no need,” you shake your head and raise your hand. Seungcheol had been a longtime customer of your family’s shop, you assume it’s mostly because of a mutual acquaintance with the Hong clan, but you would never be the one to edge into that conversation unprovoked. “I’ll go and grab your order,” a short smile and you’re turning on your heels and striding into your storeroom/workshop once more. 

When you walk back out a few moments later, the books wrapped in brown paper to protect their covers, the stranger is once again looking down at the assortment of books atop your display tables. 

“So,” you begin as you hold out the bound books to him, “are you new? I don’t think Seungcheol has sent you before.”

He takes the books gingerly, his gaze returning to the soft leather-bound journal after he gives you a short nod in thanks. As if it took him a moment to process the question he blinks and turns back to you, “Sorry— My name’s Wonwoo Jeon. I started working for Seungcheol last week.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you nod, trying to register the face with the name as comprehensively as you could. “Tell him to give me a ring when he needs his next order, I know he goes through those fairly quickly.”

“I will,” Wonwoo smiles, “Before I go do you think I could buy this?” His head nods down to the maroon colored leather-bound journal he’d been eyeing earlier, “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

A small smile gracing your lips, “Of course, it’s unlined though. Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he says as you pick up the book as his hands were already burdened with his boss’ order. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge,” you shake your head, fingers tightening along the spine. It’s smooth but the ridges of the leather run coarse under your touch, “Think of it as a congratulatory gift for getting a job under Choi. I know he has a reputation for being a bit of a—”

“Hard-ass?” Wonwoo muses, eyes widening as he realizes how he’s just insulted his boss. “And really, I can pay for that, I’m sure it must’ve taken you a while to make it.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s the exact term I was looking for, but it does fit,” you laugh, raising the book up. “Don’t worry about it, do you want me to wrap it?” 

“If you could,” he offers a smile as you move to the roll of brown paper atop the register table. 

It only takes a minute for you to cover it, you’d done hundreds, if not thousands, of wrappings for novels and books. Once you finish tying the twine bow atop the journal, you gently stack it on the books Wonwoo holds. 

“I hope to see you here again, Mr. Jeon. That is, if Seungcheol doesn’t scare you off.”

“He’s like a weird mix of my dad and what I’d expect Hardy Amies to be,” you weren’t sure exactly who Amies is or what Wonwoo’s father was like, but you did know Seungcheol. Oddities and all. “And don’t worry, I have a stronger resolve than most,” he shoots you a wink before spinning on his heels and heading towards the door. He calls out, “Thanks again for the book!” before shoving the door open with his hip and losing himself in the crowd of the street outside.

1963, Winter There was nothing quite like the holiday season in New York. Shops elevated the grandeur of their storefronts to catch the eye of window shoppers. Your own shop had seen an influx of patrons, as was typically the case around this time of year. But the demands were great, your hands had the slew of papercuts and hastily put on bandages to show it. Not that you minded it all too much, it was great revenue and it had paid for the camel hair coat you donned this evening. 

The city was abuzz with life and festivities along almost every street, and while the excitement from Hanukkah and Christmas had died down over the last few weeks, most now looked towards the reining in of a New Year as December thirty first arrived. 

“We’re going to be late,” Vernon’s arm slides under yours, the crux of his arm locking into yours as his pace quickens along the dimly lit street. The sound of his derbies clicking against the pavement reverberating around the nearly empty row of houses. 

“It’s ten and we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, I doubt we’ll be late, Vernon.” You let out a scoff, fumbling with your bag for a moment, not sure what you were searching for in the first place. The streetlamp’s orange glow does not aid you in deciphering the numbers etched into the doorways of the homes. 

“Says the person who took five years to pick out a jacket, I’m surprised we got out of your apartment before my hair turned gray— Wait a minute,” his fingers of his free hand trailing up to the dyed platinum locks on his head as he turns back to shoot you a glare, “It did.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” eyes rolling, you nudge him with your shoulder “It’s not my fault your stylist bleached you instead of dyeing you.”

“I feel like an idiot, they can’t even see me to fix it for another week.” He groans as the pair of you make your way to a brownstone tucked away neatly into one of the city’s streets. It would be innocuous from the others aligning the strip had you not been able to hear the gentle buzz of chatter and the occasional laugh drift out from the screened door. 

“Did Hong invite the whole block?” Vernon murmurs as he lets go of your arm so that he can jump up the short handful of stairs to the front door two by two. 

“It would explain how dead the rest of the street seems,” Musing, you follow him, more carefully as you’d always seemed prone to falling up stairs. The voices grow in volume and now you can even hear the scratchy sound of some music floating from the door. There’s no one at the door to greet you when you walk in, just an array of faces that you seem to recognize while others are brand new acquaintances, Vernon and you drop off your coats in a nearby closet and shuffle your way inside in search for the nearest drink station.

“I’d say his house is beautiful, but I can barely see anything. How does he know this many people?” Vernon questions as he slides out of the way of someone’s elbow almost hitting him in the stomach. “All I want is to get slightly drunk tonight but I bet the alcohol’s already gone.” 

“It’s the Hong household you know that’s not going to happen,” a snicker leaves you before you feel a gentle tapping on your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks you’re fully ready to meet Joshua Hong’s smirk and subsequent banter, but it takes you a minute to realize that it wasn’t your childhood friend that had garnered your attention at all; instead, it’s a somewhat less familiar face.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are slightly flushed with a smile, the contents of his champagne glass half-empty as he poses the question, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, sure.” You return his smile, nodding your head as he begins to walk off, only stopped by someone calling out to him.

“I didn’t know Pincushion would be here,” Vernon’s voice draws nearer behind you, it seems like he realized you weren’t trailing after him anymore. You feel his hand land on your shoulder as he continues to talk to Wonwoo, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He taps his shoe on the floor, only stepping forward a little bit to let someone pass by behind him.

“Pincushion?” You question, looking from Vernon to Wonwoo with a quizzical look on your brow.

“That thing he wears around his wrist every time he comes in?” Vernon shrugs, “I couldn’t remember his name the first time I saw him, but I could remember that. Hence: Pincushion.” 

“Is that what it’s called?” You recall the ball of velvety looking green fabric you’d seen on Wonwoo’s wrist the last handful of times he’d come to pick up the tailor shop’s orders. 

“Yeah my grandma used to have one and I stole the needles from it to use as swords for my toys when I was a kid,” his shoulders shrug as he looks past Wonwoo and spots something beyond him. “I see one of those guys with a tray of drinks, I’ll get back to you in a bit.” And with that he’s off, sliding around you and Wonwoo to brush his way through the crowd in a frantic sprint to grab himself a glass.

“Does he know that there’s an open bar in the other room?” Wonwoo asks aloud as he watches your friend disappear into the crowd.

“Not yet but give him twenty minutes and I’m sure he’ll be all over it.” Vernon wasn’t one to drink heavily often, it was more of a holiday thing where he only did it if he knew he wasn’t going into work for the next few days. Needless to say, Christmas and New Years are binge drinking galore for him. 

“So, book binding? How’d you get into that line of work?” You’d been so concentrated on looking for your friend’s brightly colored hair that you almost didn’t hear Wonwoo when he asked. 

“Family business, dad’s too sick to come in.” Your eyes flickering over to him, a small shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” his brow contorts into worry for a moment, as if he’d offended you somehow. 

“Don’t be, if anything I think he’s playing it up a bit just so mom has to be around more often,” You smile, it was really only minor back issues but the doctor had prescribed bed rest and your father had been milking it for months now. 

“Smart man,” a short laugh into his drink before he takes a sip from his glass. “So, how do you know Joshua?”

“Old family friend, plus he’s as rich as all get out so it’s nice to see what it’s like.” You note, looking up to the chandelier overhead. If it were anything but Tiffany you’d be surprised. “What about you?”

“You didn’t hear this from me but Seungcheol might be secretly dating one of his sisters and she invited the whole shop just as an excuse to see him.” The two of you lock eyes, a playful smirk on his lips dancing in the warm glow of the room. “I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckling for a moment, you then look up as if you’ve realized something. “I should probably go and greet the host; can you imagine how rude of a guest I’d be if I didn’t?”

A ceding nod as he steps away from you, gesturing with his glass towards a side room off the main hall, “I think I saw him in there a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you move to pass him, heading towards the doorway before you stop for a moment, your head tilting in question, “Want to meet back up later?”

“I’d love that,” a gentle thud in your chest as you nod at him, beginning to move again and question the feeling that had plagued you enough to ask him that. 

You don’t find Joshua in that room, or the next, or even upstairs in his own bedroom. You do, however, find him on the second-floor fire escape, the butts of several cigarettes at his feet and a glass of whiskey in his hand. It’s cold, had you known this would be where you’d speak you would’ve brought your coat with you.

“Joshua Hong,” You begin, crouching down to duck through the open window, catching him as he’s begun to lean against the brick exterior of his home, “Hiding away from your party again?”

“The guest of the hour,” A grin as you walk towards him, “How are you? I haven’t seen you at all in the past few months.”

“I’m good, good… It’s been so hectic with the seasonal shopping and all, who knew journals were a hot commodity for gift-giving?” You sigh, elbows resting against the cold fence of the escape. The time between now and the last you’d seen him had been great, but it had always been far and few in between when it came to his jet setting tendencies. 

“Sounds hellish for sure,” Musing, he takes a sip from his glass, the scent of whisky hitting your nose as it nears. His other hand rests atop the rusted metal of the fire escape, impatiently tapping as he looks out into the backyard of his home.

“And what about you, Mr. Start-Up? Tear down any more conglomerates recently?” You query, noticing that he was on one of his inward treks again. Something must’ve come up with his family.  

A snicker, as he offers out his glass to you, noticing that your hands were painfully empty, “No, but we’re working on a pretty big acquisition right now. It’s all mind games and if I didn’t make a shitload of money I’d be out of this business.” 

“Lucky you though, you’re able to retire at thirty-five if you really wanted to,” musing as you swirl around the contents of the glass, the ice inside clinking around. 

He laughs, the cold air mixing with his breath in plumes of white that spiral into the nighttime. You push yourself from the wall, bringing the glass to your lips and downing the rest of the contents as quickly as you can, “This isn’t the time to be hard on yourself, Joshua. I think the countdown’s about to start,” a look at the small wrist watch on your wrist, the time indicating that you had about five minutes until the new year began.

“Shit,” the word elongated exasperatedly as he leans over to catch a glance at the clock face, “Let’s get back out there.”

The two of you amble inside, your cheeks cold with the winter air and hands a little stiff from holding the glass for too long. You set it down on one of the various demilunes scattered around the hall as you make your way back into Joshua’s living room. He’s lost along the way, pulled into a group of businessmen to talk or fawning girls to cajole with, you’re not sure which at this point. All you’re trying to do is find someone you know. 

You can try to push through the crowds to find Joshua, but at this point it’d be like trying to part the Red Sea with your own two hands and it was infeasible to say the least. Or you could head to one of the drink stations around the house in hopes to find Vernon, but he was as elusive as a snake and it’d be a miracle if you could find him before the clock struck midnight.

“Sixty!” A choir of voices ring out from a nearby room, you think you can hear Joshua’s voice rising above them all, but it might also be your ears playing tricks on you.

“Are they really counting down the entire minute?” The voice next to you startled you so much that you jumped, turned, and saw Jeon Wonwoo looking off in the direction of the countdown. His brow furrowing in confusion, “I at least thought it’d be the last ten seconds or something.”

“Jesus Wonwoo,” hand over your heart as you try and catch your breath, “You almost scared me to death.”

A laugh, “Sorry about that, I’m a little light on my feet.”

It also didn’t help that you could barely hear with the throng of people surrounding you. The gaiety electrifies the room, as it does the entire world when on the eve of a brand-new start. 

“Did you want me to help you find one of your friends? I’m sure they couldn’t have gone too far,” his height somewhat advantageous to him as he scans the crowd, not seeing you shake your head as the countdown reaches thirty.

“I think I’m fine just staying with you,” you don’t notice the way he tenses ever so slightly at your words, a more rouge tint to his cheeks as he looks back to you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure?” Eyes widening as your gazes’ lock and you feel the familiar warmth creeping up the back of your neck.

“If that’s okay with you?” You question, the countdown hitting fifteen.

“That’s great— fine, it’s— yeah,” he trips and stumbles over his words, trying to find solid ground somewhere on the confab plain. It’s at that moment the countdown comes to ten, and the pair of you join in for the last seconds of 1963.

Five, four, three, two — 

“Happy New Year!” 

The clock had struck midnight and he was the closest one to you, you can’t remember if it was you or him that pulled the other closer to share a kiss. The kiss was chaste, but it resounded around your ribcage like the booming of the fireworks being shot off a distant skyscraper. A smile on your lips as you mouth back your own, “Happy New Year!” Despite it being innocent in nature, you know with the way the feeling buzzes on your lips you yearn for something more.

1964, Early Spring. The two of you’d spent time together since that evening, outside of that transactional relationship formed in the commerce of you selling your journals and him picking them up for Seungcheol whenever he could. It was outside of that realm, more personal as the days, weeks and months had transgressed. 

By some miraculous circumstance, and no less of your incessant mentioning, you and Wonwoo had been seeing each other on a regular basis 

“Seungcheol?” The door of the tailor shop opens with nothing short of a struggle. The heavy oak pressing back against your foot as you pry it open, your hands too full to push it. 

“Need some help?” A voice behind you, startling you so much that you almost drop the large stack of books in your hand. You look over your shoulder to see Wonwoo standing behind you, his head tilted as if to question how you’d made it this far on your own.

“Thanks,” allowing him to brush past you, he steps into the shop and holds the door open wider as you enter. “Where is everyone?” Noticing that the usual handful of other tailors didn’t seem to be aimlessly roaming the store waiting for a customer to arrive.

“Busy,” He notes, motioning for you to hand him the plethora of journals. Obliging willingly, you hand them off and stretch your arms, surely the strain from the hardbacks would pull your finger muscles. “There’s been an emergency tailoring session, some big shot’s in town and needs alterations done for some party they’re throwing tomorrow night.”

“Explains why no one came to pick up the order today,” you muse, “Shouldn’t you be helping with that?”

“I will be in about an hour,” he sighs as if he’s already imagining the work that he’ll need to put in this evening. “But someone had to watch over the shop today.” 

“Do you want company while you wait?”

You’re not sure how you’d gotten roped into staying with Wonwoo until well after the sun had set and the last customer had come in for the day. The lights of the shop are off, save for the small lamp that sits above Wonwoo’s workstation. He sits at his little desk in the back corner of the shop as he sews and hems away. His eyes scan the notes the patron had given when they’d dropped off the clothes, you had to squint to try and read the messy scrawl etched onto the parchment. You sit some desks away, flipping through some editorial detailing the up and coming designers of the fashion world but nothing was particularly catching your eye.

“Three alterations in one night, Seungcheol’s really trying to work us to the bone,” Wonwoo sighs exasperatedly, his hands falling atop his desk, a needle held between his right index and thumb while his other hand holds the garment he’d been attending to.

“Doesn’t it take a week to do something for just one piece?” You ask, not too versed on the schematics of it all, just acutely aware of when your father had needed suits adjusted as he aged.

“Normally,” he glances over to you, a hazy impatience settling behind his brow as he thinks to the two other pieces he was set to mend. “But it’s nine-thirty now and the guy wants them done by noon tomorrow,” Wonwoo almost barks out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, “I didn’t even get the roughest pieces, Mingyu’ll be up all night and finish five minutes beforehand if he’s lucky.”

“What are they making him do?” Magazine set aside as you stand to stretch, your legs numb with the fuzziness of pinched nerves.

“Some simple inseam stuff like I’m doing, but also taking in a few jacket sleeves and fixing shoulder divots,” He says as if you know what he’s talking about, upon seeing the puzzled expression that paints itself on your face he explains a little more, “It’s nearly impossible to do with the amount of time we’ve been given.”

“Why’d Seungcheol accept this job then?” Pins and needles poking through your skin as you walk over to him to take a look at what he was working on.

“Because the client’s paying us a fortune,” setting the needle down he pulls a pin from the cushion around his wrist to situate it into an odd angle in the fabric in front of him, “I might actually be able to take you on a real date if I finish this in time.”

“I’ve kind of liked the ice cream socials,” you shrug your shoulders, as he turns to look at you, “And all of the gritty little dives, it’s more memorable that way. Plus, it makes me a cheap date.”

A small ‘tch’ leaving him as he turns back to his work, “You deserve more than that.”

“As long as you’re there I’ll be fine,” you lean down to press a kiss on his cheek, “Now I’ll stop distracting you, I’ll make dinner or lunch or something because I know you’ll be dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“Try and get to bed early,” he says as you go to grab your things from where you’d left them up front, “I know you like to overwork yourself too.”

1964, Summer When you’d been invited to Wonwoo’s small apartment, you’d expected a small dinner and then maybe you’d go and watch television or explore the city afterwards. What you hadn’t expected was to see dark plumes of smoke emitting from under the doorway. You don’t knock, instead you barge into the apartment to find Wonwoo unlatching his windows and opening them to let the smoke escape, the source of the plumes coming from his small kitchen. 

“What happened?” You call out as he turns to you, your hand rising to your face as if it could vanquish the putrid smell. 

“I cooked,” the last window opens with a struggle, Wonwoo’s arms ache with how much force he had to exert when opening it. He shuffles over to you, seeing that you’d walked into the kitchen to find the source of it all.

“You… cooked….” A charred, black entity sits in a pan that Wonwoo had presumably pulled from the oven minutes prior. “Wonwoo what is that?”

“A loaf!” An almost excited tone cutting through your confusion as you turn and tilt your head at him.

“A… loaf of?”

“Meat!” At least he’s trying to sound cheerful, but that was his disposition most of the time. His hand guides your gaze over to a handwritten recipe atop the counter, he must’ve gotten it from some program. “I followed Julia Child’s recipe.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean but that looks like a brick.” Gaze flickering back to the meat-brick. 

“Yeah,” a sigh as he picks up a nearby spatula, grazing it atop the burnt meat, it scrapes atop it rather than giving way at all, “It’s about as hard as one too.”

The utter exasperation breaking through in his voice cause enough for you to laugh, the absurdity of it all pricking tears into the corners of your eyes. “We can try and salvage it,” you offer once you calm yourself down enough, the occasional chuckle flitting like a bird around your ribcage.

“Let’s just go to Le Pavilion or something, there’s also a new movie out too, we can try and catch it if we eat fast enough.”

And you do. For some reason Wonwoo orders the most expensive dish on the menu and doesn’t even like it, offering it to you instead with an abysmal pout that almost has you reeling in the small interior of the restaurant. The atmosphere is warm and jovial, met by the sinking sun as the two of you exit the venue, hands interlocked with a faint tightness as if you never wanted to be without him in your grasp again. Wonwoo and you then walk to a theater some blocks away, hands still held and a bubbling silence between you.

The film that Wonwoo had mentioned earlier had been Mary Poppins, some Disney film starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke; you’re sure you’d heard Andrews somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“I didn’t realize they could combine live action and cartoons like that,” Wonwoo’s voice full of childlike wonder as the pair of you exit the cinema. The smell of popcorn wafts out of the theater’s doors and the bright bulbs of the marquee overhead creates a strange glow contrasted to the nighttime sky. 

“I didn’t either,” you note as a few kids brush past you and begin to race down the street, their voices carrying off into the night. It brings a small smile to your lips as you watch them gallivant around, not a care in the world as they continue to chase one another.

“Do you want me to walk with you back to your place?” Wonwoo offers, extending his hand out to you. You don’t answer aloud, instead just take his hand into yours and begin to walk the steadily emptying streets.

“Have you always lived in the city, Wonwoo?” It takes a moment for you to speak again, instead of just admiring the way that the lights glint off of passing windows and the rumblings of the cars that pass to your left drown out in the other amblings of the city.

“No, my family actually lives up north a little way away.” He hums to himself as he thinks, “I thought I’d always be stuck up there too, but I got the offer from Seungcheol and moved here as fast as I could. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it at times.”

“I see,” you mutter, not knowing the feeling of leaving your home. It was a foreign concept to say the least, for almost the entirety of your life you’d known you were going to take over your father’s shop one day, and you’d been complacent in the matter. You’d had your hobbies that you dabbled in, but this was a nostalgic comfort that would and had transitioned into your livelihood that would take you nowhere other than the little shop you call your own. “Would you want to move back?”

“Maybe when I’m older, sure. But I want to see the world first,” he nods his head, a twitch in his hand as he holds yours, “there’s so much I haven’t done or seen.”

It was a reckless ambition, but Wonwoo lived in that fantasy of the unknown, he had for all of his life. That was what he knew and all he abided by. You’d be fooling yourself if you didn’t worry for him at times, but he’d made it so far and you were curious to see where he was going. There was a creative longing, a desire to make, within him that no one else you’d come across had.

“I love you.” The words aren’t romantic when they fall from your mouth, when they’re swept up in the humidity of the summer air and ring around both his and your ears. This was more of a reckoning, a realization of the culmination of your growing feelings towards him since you’d met him almost a year ago now. A weight you hadn’t realized was there lifting from your chest, a songbird free from a gilded cage.

Wonwoo pauses, his feet stopping on the concrete as you continue to walk, only pulled back when you meet resistance. So, you stop yourself, turning back to look at him, a little ‘o’ on his lips and a confused look gracing his features. Had you said it too early? Or did he not reciprocate your feelings?

“You beat me to it,” a small pout emerges onto his lower lip, “I love you too.”

1964, Autumn “I can’t imagine those are comfortable.” You’re sure the clacking of your shoes could be heard miles away, with the obnoxious way they hit the sidewalk. They were pinching your toes too, and you might as well have put a band-aid on the backs of your heels because they were definitely going to be blistered tomorrow morning.

“They most certainly aren’t, but they are cute.” You note, standing on your toes so you can click the red slippers together three times at the heel. “

Wonwoo stands at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your apartment, offering out his hand for you to grasp when you carefully make your way down the steps. As opposed to the cool air that had begun to settle into the city, his hand offers warmth against your bare skin as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Which way is Vernon's?” He questions, looking over your costume for the evening.

“He lives over in Flatiron, kind of near the shop so it won’t be too far of a walk.” You notice him looking at the checkered dress and bright shoes. “Was Dorthey not a good idea, Mr. Holmes?” Noting his outfit of choice, the pipe held in his free hand, the detective cap as well as the cape to match.

“I think you look cute,” Looking away from you and towards the street you’d begun to walk down.

Vernon’s apartment was small, it being so led to more intimate parties than one would find at Joshua Hong’s home, in a way you appreciated it a little more. Bigger parties with unfamiliar faces made you feel as if you had to act less like yourself and more robotic in your interactions.

“I’ll let you in if you promise not to chuck my house to Oz,” Vernon asks as he jokingly cracks open his front door as the two of you stand in front of it, “And Pincushion here doesn’t try and solve a murder or two.”

“Hmm I guess that’s doable, right?” You play along, turning to Wonwoo to confirm.

“It might take some restraint but I’m sure I can manage.” Hand under his chin as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Vernon sighs and swings the door open, “Drinks in the kitchen, I think Chan’s trying to do a comedy-musical routine in the living room. I’d steer clear because he’s trying out ‘audience participation’ tonight.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” You laugh as you walk inside, the warmth of the room exacerbated by the sheer number of people crammed into the tiny space. “I actually kind of want to check out Chan’s thing,” You mention to Wonwoo after you find a space where the two of you can stand unimpeded.

“I don’t know if I can stomach that quite yet, want me to grab you a drink in the meantime?” Wonwoo asks, looking towards the kitchen and the few people filtering in and out of it.

“That’d be great,” a smile and then Wonwoo’s off to struggle his way through the packed room.

Lip bitten, you try to look through the crowd, but the drawls of laughter tell you almost exactly where Chan’s giving his tri-annual standup show. It’s shoulder to shoulder and you can barely hear him over the other going-ons of the party but from what you can ascertain it’s pretty funny.

“Happy Halloween!” A hand on your side as they call out, you turn, and it takes you a moment to recognize the face under the Gomez Addams’ mustache and wig.

“Joshua!” A smile as you move to hug him for a moment, pulling away with your hands resting on his forearms, “I thought you were overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, a nasty storm delayed us by a few days over in Spain so I’m not leaving until Wednesday.” He says, looking over your outfit. “Didn’t you wear this like two Halloweens ago?”

“What no one knows won’t hurt them,” a playful nudge on his shoulder, “And if I were to remember, this wig looks very Elvis of you.”

“You might be able to remember correctly,” The black strands of hair that were pulled back are still reminiscent of the shape they once held. “Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone?” Joshua smiles, a nervous tinge to his voice as he continues, “It’s a little loud in here and I can’t really hear.”

“Oh, yeah,” brow furrowing at the attitude shift, “But first I should tell— Wonwoo!” The confused expression on Joshua’s face is somewhat laughable as you wave your boyfriend over, spotting him exiting the kitchen with two drinks in hand.

“There you are,” Wonwoo says as he walks over, placing a kiss on your cheek as he hands you a glass. You’re not too sure what the contents are, but it’s warm and smells spiced and oddly autumnal. “Hey Joshua,” he greets with a small nod of his head as you take a small sip from your glass.

“Hey Wonwoo,” a return of the nod, “I should probably let the two of you go, I just remembered I have some calls I need to make.”

“What did you want to talk about?”  You ask as Joshua begins to turn on his heels. It freezes him, he looks back to you before offering you a warm smile once again.

“It’s nothing important, I’ll catch up with you some other time, yeah?”

The party goes one without much note after, the most affable thing being that routine that Chan had been preparing.  At one point you and Wonwoo had slipped out citing an acute tiredness as an excuse to just walk the city some more. By this time of night, the kids that had gone out in search of candy were slowly waning, now only the belligerently drunk wandered the streets in search of the home they probably lived in.

“You have to admit that the joke about Red Skelton was pretty funny though,” insisting that Chan wasn’t the worst comedian you had ever seen. Sure, his act could be cleaned up a little but there was definitely potential.

“What was it— I know a guy who bought a $99 color TV set. Now every Tuesday night he watches Green Skelton?” Chuckling as he recalls the joke, Wonwoo shakes his head “That was pretty good.”

“That’s the one, he’s no Jerry Lewis but he’s trying his best,” you laugh as you arrive at the entrance of your apartment, “Did you want to come in?”

“I’d love to,” he says, and your heart skips several beats, “but I’ve got a client coming in early tomorrow.” And then your heart drops, “I’ll come by tomorrow after I’m done?”

“Alright,” you nod and you say your good nights, he places a kiss on your cheek before turning on his heels and walking into the darkness of night. 

You fumble with your hands, trying to unlatch the small picnic basket that had acted as your purse for the evening, in search of your keys. 

“Actually, do you have room for one more?” You’d been too distracted trying to get your keys that you hadn’t heard or seen Wonwoo come back to your stoop. 

“I thought you said you had work tomorrow,” a wayward glance to him.

“I do, but it’s dark and I’m kind of afraid to walk home alone, I mean what if a ghost or vampire gets me? I’m too pretty to die right now,” he states, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to invite him in. 

“A big baby, more like it,” you scoff, once again turning to look at your door and stating, “If you are coming inside, can you lend me my own spare? I think I dropped my keys at Vernon’s.”

“Yeah I think I’ve got it on my ring,” he rummages around his pockets for a moment until you hear the familiar jingle of his keys. There are only four that adorn the metal hoop; his apartment’s, his mailbox’s, Seungcheol’s shop, and the most recent addition: yours. 

“Roommate not home?” He questions as the two of you make your way inside, kicking off your shoes as you beeline to your kitchen.

“At some B. Altman holiday extravaganza with her beau,” pulling two glasses from a cabinet and grabbing a nearby bottle from the small section of your kitchen dedicated to alcohol, “Nightcap?”

“A small one,” Wonwoo nods as you come into the room, he’s standing over your record player, turning it on and beginning to play whatever was on the platter. You set the glasses down onto the coffee table and pry the cork out of the bottle, pouring two small glasses as he falls into the sofa beside you.

“I hope Delamain’ll do?” You set down the bottle and pass a glass to Wonwoo, only settling down on the couch once your own glass is in hand.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he sips at his glass, setting it down on the settee as he muses some more, “What record is this?”

“Ella Fitzgerald, mom gave it to me for my birthday last year, it’s one of her favorites.” Sipping from your own glass steadily turns into you just downing the liquid in one go. The glass hits the end table with a clink when you set it down, Wonwoo’s free hand resting on your thigh as he listens to the music wafting through the air.

“It’s lovely,” he sighs out as you rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his Pour Monsieur cologne invading your senses as you settle. The meticulous grazing of his fingers over your thigh causes you to sigh, wanting to sink further into him.

“Can you kiss me?” The words fall breathlessly from your lips, as his fingers trace the hem of your dress. And he does, turning his head to crash against you with such voraciousness that your teeth click against each other before he steadies and falls into motion with you. The pair of you stay like that for a moment, before you feel his hand slip under your leg, urging you to sit atop him. 

You straddle his waist, feeling a hardness beginning to strain against his trousers as you grind down onto his lap. He lets out a moan, probably the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, his eyelids fluttering as you do it again. A smirk graces your lips, your hands trailing from his chest to the button on the front of his pants, the fabric coarse under your touch as you move to unfasten it. Before you could, you feel a pair of warm hands atop yours, you looked up to see a wide-eyed Wonwoo. 

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this today, so my underwear isn’t exactly mood appropriate—” He says all too quickly for you to comprehend fully, “Just don’t judge me too hard.”

“They can’t be— Is that Mickey Mouse?” You catch the name on the waistband of his underwear, hesitating on releasing any more of the animated character for your eyes to see. 

“And I think you’ve just killed the mood,” he groans, his head falling onto the back pillow as his hands fall atop the couch cushions. 

“No, I didn’t,” you lean down for a kiss, rolling your hips over him, feeling that he was almost fully erect. His hands fly back to your sides, guiding you along as he lifts his pelvis to meet yours. “I think they’re cute but maybe leave them home next time.”

“Next time?” He mused, looking up at you through clouded eyes, a joking tinge added to his voice “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Call it foresight,” shoulders shrugging as you look down at him, your head tilted ever so slightly “and you don’t seem like the hit it and quit it type, baby.” He’d slept over at your apartment before, maybe you’d had a few drunken makeout sessions but nothing ever this sobering, this far. In hindsight maybe you should’ve been nervous, let the butterflies in your stomach take over and calm you down. You’re not sure why you’d taken such a confident route with him, it just seems like he needed it. 

“Baby,” the word fell out as a whisper as you saw the faint pinkness of his cheeks in the glow that emanates from the lamp to his right, “Can you spare me any further embarrassment and just take them off already?”

“It doesn’t feel like you’ve got anything to be embarrassed about,” your hand brushing his away from the front of his pants, you sit up on your knees, “Mind kicking them off for me?”

He readily began to comply as you tried to maneuver without inhibiting him, you noticed him watching you, a hunger in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. His hands still for a moment and his head twists to look towards the kitchen where the entryway is. 

“Fuck— is someone else here?” He asks and you listen to the familiar sound of your front door unlocking; it doesn’t open but you can hear loud footfalls and an even louder voice talking outside of the door. 

“Sooyoung?” You call out after you were sure the voices had stopped, walking to the kitchen when you hear your roommate's keys hitting the kitchen counter “I thought you were staying at your boyfriend’s?”

“The asshole broke up with me because he wanted to be Holly Golightly. Him! He might have astoundingly good looks for it but I think I’m a little prettier, don’t you think?” The door of the fridge slamming shut, a rustle around the utensil drawer as she looks for a spoon. She did look stunning as the Hepburn character; you have to admit. “They’re re-airing that episode of Perry Mason if you want to watch it.”

“Wonwoo’s actually over so I think I’m just going to call it a night,” You say, leaning against the doorframe, watching her begin to dig into a tub of ice cream. “I’ll be sure to rant about your ex with you tomorrow.”

“You’d really do that?” A sigh as she shoves the spook into her mouth, “I’ll try not to wake you guys up when I get up for work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sooyoung,” a smile before you slip away and head back into the living room. “Alright Woo, it’s time for bed.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo pushes himself off of the couch, buttoning his pants and shouting out a ‘Goodnight Sooyoung!’ before ducking into your room. With his long strides he walks to your bed and subsequently falls into it as you turn to close the door behind the two of you.

“Don’t you want to change, Dr. Holmes?” You note his still costumed self as you look at his sprawling figure on the bed, “I think I’ve got your bed clothes from the last time you were here… Not sure if I cleaned them though.”

He huffs, “Forget it, I’m going to sleep.” He crawls to his side, blanketing himself with your duvet as you go into your bathroom to remove your makeup and change. 

You can hear him softly snoring as you exit the restroom, your face still a little damp and the scent of your cleanser tingling your nose. Sooyoung’s turned off the music in the living room, the garbled sounds of the small black and white tv quietly floating in under your door. It takes a moment, but you climb into bed next to Wonwoo, pulling the duvet up to your chin before you shut your eyes and fall into a dreamless slumber.

It isn’t sunny out when you wake up, you don’t want to look at your clock for fear that your alarm was about to go off and you’d miss the opportunity to sleep in a few minutes more. An arm draped over you, even in sleep Wonwoo was a cuddler. Normally you weren’t opposed unless it was the summertime and it was unbearably hot outside. 

“You know,” you hear him mumble tiredly, as if he senses that you’ve woken up too, “I always thought your apartment would be much more… bookier.” With the way his voice rasps with fatigue you’re not sure if he’s fully awake or half asleep. 

“What were you expecting? Books wall to wall?” eyes still closed as you pull your duvet closer to you, feeling his arm tense around your waist. 

“Kind of, something akin to a fairytale library,” his breath hot on your back, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sensation. “Like uhm— some Grimm story… Oh,” voice perking, “Can we go for that Halloween next year? You didn’t even tell me what you were going as until I saw you tonight.”

“You want to have a couple’s costume?”

“Yeah,” breathing slowly as if he’s falling back asleep again,”Maybe Lucy and Ricardo, that’d be fun.”

The next time you wake up, the sun’s blaring into your eyes with an intensity you had never asked for.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Wonwoo’s mumbling and shuffling around your room, sunlight was pouring in from your windows and he looked heavenly even in his manic state.

“What’s wrong?” Stifling a yawn behind your hand as you watch him frantically feel his pockets.

“It’s nine-thirty, We— I overslept,” another string of curses escaping him as he looks around your room, “Do you have a phone I can use?”

“It’s on the dresser.” You point lazily to the red rotary.

You hear the dial tone ring a few times before someone on the other end picks up, “Mingyu can you put my client on the line?” A pause, “Yes I know I’m late.” Another pause before Wonwoo speaks again, “Hello Mr. Smith? Yes, this is Wonwoo Jeon. I'm running a little late for our appointment, I had bit of an emergency and— Huh? Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Only minorly,” he frowns, “You wouldn’t happen to have a suit perfectly tailored for me to wear, would you?”

“Can’t say that I do, why don’t you just go in what you’re wearing?”

“I am not going dressed up as Sherlock Holmes for this client. I have some pride, you know.” 

“You’re literally wearing Mickey Mouse underwear,” you snort, “it doesn’t look that bad anyway, just don’t wear the hat and lose the pipe. Maybe the cloak too but it’s kind of sexy.” 

“Don’t try to tempt me,” he groans, buttoning and zipping his pants, “I’m late enough as is.” 

“I’d offer you an iron if Sooyoung hadn’t broken mine, that shirt looks super wrinkly now that I see it in the sunlight,” you note, he still looked nice though. He would probably look nice in anything he wore.

“Ugh, really?” Hands running over the wrinkled fabric he sighs to himself, “I’d say I’ve looked worse, but I normally have myself together.” 

“Good luck. I, for one, am going back to sleep.” You sigh and fall back into your blankets, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of warmth quite yet.

“Now who’s the baby?” He scoffs and you hear him tread to the side of the bed, a kiss planted on your forehead as you crinkle your nose up at him. “I’ll call you later today?”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

1964, Late Autumn. The rain began only a few minutes into your trek to the cafe, your umbrella weeping with the droplets as they roll off its surface as you trudge down the street. There’s a rumble in the distance but you’re not sure if it’s the local train station or thunder somewhere off beyond the city. Your other hand in your pocket, running your finger along the ridges of your shop’s key. While you know you’d locked it, you can’t help but have the underlying fear that you’d left the door wide open so that anyone could just walk in. Although you’re not quite sure what they’d take, a few blank notebooks don’t seem like it’d do too well in any sort of underground market. 

By the time you pull yourself from your thoughts, you’re standing in front of a small cafe that feels more like a second home to you than your own apartment did at this point. The door swings open, you stand in the entranceway so that you can close your umbrella and leave it in the small stand upfront before you head fully inside. It smells like autumn, or at least the coffee’d variant of it. Pumpkin, nutmeg, and a few other scents you can’t quite pinpoint wafting through the air as you walk up to the counter to place your order. You pick out a few pastries as well and ask that they’re brought out when your coffee is ready. A hand to remove the paper-wrapped book under your arm so you can reach for your wallet, realizing then that the water had soaked into the leather. The wrapping paper now a little damp from where it’d brushed against your coat, you pick it back up as well as grab the receipt from the barista before scouring the cafe for what you’d come here to do in the first place.

Wonwoo’s dozing off when you find him in the back corner of the coffee shop. His jacket slung on the chair beside him, a scarf thrown haphazardly atop it as he leans with his head tilting backwards, pretty much dead to the world. Had the two of you not been frequent customers you’re sure that he would’ve been kicked out by now. But there he was, black turtleneck, tailored pants, and the cartoon bandages he loves so much wrapped tightly around his fingertips.

He doesn’t wake up when you accidentally scrape your chair on the ground when you pull it back to sit across from him nor does he wake when you drop the paper-bound book atop the table with a loud thud. Wonwoo does, however, wake when you brush your hand gently atop his, nearly falling out of his chair as his eyes open wider than you’d ever seen someone’s do. 

“That wasn’t funny,” he frowns as you snicker, glancing over to the counter trying to act as if he’s regained his composure, “did you already order?”

“For me? Yes,” you place your bag in the chair adjacent to you, shrug off your raincoat and hang it on the back of your chair. “For you, what is it that you get? Flat white, two sugars, low fat milk?”

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning his head back once more. It must’ve been another sleepless night for him.

“You should be thankful I’ve got an exceptional memory,” you frown as he can’t see you, he overworks himself too much and if you ever try to bring it up he brushes it off with a wave and an excuse of ‘I’m just doing what I love’. 

“You know,” he begins, leaning his head back up, opening his eyes to look at you. There was something shining behind them that you’d only seen on a handful of occasions; he has an idea and he’s not sure that you’ll like it, “I was wondering if you’d model a dress for me? Not for a fashion show or anything. I just think it’d look good on you.”

His gaze breaks from yours to look at the aisle behind you, you turn and see the barista coming with your drinks and assortment of baked goods. After a few repetitious ‘thank you’s she leaves and the pair of you are left alone once more. 

“Are you flirting with me?” An eyebrow piqued as you looked at him. He’d asked you to do some of the strangest things before, going from the mundane ‘I think we need to get annual tickets to the opera just in case I forget your birthday and it’ll be a birthday present’ to ‘I swear to god if we don’t rescue this cat right now I’m never calling you again’. But it was two am and a sorely inebriated Wonwoo had thought that a raccoon was a cat as it rummaged through the garbage. That had also been the night where he’d serenaded you with his own rendition of Blossom Dearies ‘Dance Only With Me’ and Sinatra’s ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’; he’d broken down crying at the latter and you’d forced him to go to bed early. He only went on the condition that you’d hug him as he slept. It was certainly an interesting way to spend your first date together. 

“Do you want me to be? I’d say it’s fairly doable,” He winks as he drinks from his mug, blowing on its contents beforehand to cool the brew. 

A laugh, the brown paper under your fingertips wrinkling as you strain your fingers and push it towards him. It slides across the wood with relative ease, your finger partially tearing the paper where it had been dampened by the rain. 

“I brought you your book.”

“Unlined and all?” He asks as he sets down his cup, shifting himself forward to get a better look.

“Unlined, flexible binding, the works.” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he sighs, taking the still wrapped book into his grasp. 

“I know,” you smile, watching as his fingers toy with the twine that kept it together. 

“Hello? Paging Ms. Bookbinder, you there?” Wonwoo’s hand waves in front of your face, suddenly you’re back in reality and trying to remember the conversation. You didn’t realize you’d zoned out that hard.

“Yes Mr. Reichelt?” You question, looking down as his finger’s unlace the twine you’d wrapped around the paper packaging. 

“Don’t call me that I am much cooler than Franz Reichelt, and less dead, for that matter.”

“Can you say that after you drink your coffee?” You poke jokingly while he eyes his mug with a wary glance.

“Anyway, were you even listening to me?” He leans towards you, elbows resting on the tabletop and a slight curvature to his smile that looked far too playful for the current moment. It stilled your heart for a second before you shake your head at him. 

“Not really, no.” You confess, sipping from your cup, “What is it?”

“I was asking if you would let me make a dress for you. I’ve had this idea in my mind for weeks and I finally got this mulberry silk imported from Lyon and it’s too good not to use immediately.”

“I don’t even need a dress like that, Wonwoo.” You frown, picking at one of the pastries in front of you, pinching off a piece before stuffing it into your mouth. “I’m not exactly the type that goes to parties where I’d need a silk dress.” You think that the last party you’d attended you’d worn a sweater and a dress from your roommate’s closet, nothing remotely close to what he was proposing. 

“You don’t even know what it looks like,” he pouts, “All I need are your measurements, you won’t even have to see the thing if you don’t want to.” 

A sigh, “Fine. When do you want me to drop by?”

“Does Tuesday around ten work for you?”

“I should be able to get Vernon to look over the shop while I’m gone.”

1964, Winter. The ringing of your shop’s bells draws you to the front room, your hands wrought with binding glue, you try to rub them on the apron you wear to rid yourself of the sensation. Before you can ask what the customer needs you stop in your tracks, head tilting to the side, “Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is,” Wonwoo’s voice is cheery as he walks in further, looking at the array of newly bound books sitting out on display.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to want to see you?” You fluster at the words, hard to hide the small smile that forms on your lips.

“I mean, you can, it’s just that I’m working.” You motion to the store, to the few customers browsing the items.

“You’ve spent however many nights watching me hem skirts and taper jackets; I think it’s time I return the favor.” A nod of his head as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What can I do to help?”

“What the hell’s Pincushion doing here?” Before you’re able to open your mouth, Vernon comes out of the back room with a stack of books in his grasp, “I thought you’d be holed up in your shop by now.”

“It’s my day off.”

“And you’re spending it… here…” The thud of books landing on a nearby table as the skepticism in Vernon’s voice rises.

“Yep.”

“He must really like you,” Vernon scoffs, going to grab a different selection of books off of another shelf. He turns to you and asks, “Can you grab me the leather samples from the back? I think Maisel’s coming in today and you know how he gets.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You shake your head and head to the back room to search for the swatches.

While he waits, Wonwoo notices a small web lingering in the intersection of two walls, the sunlight glinting off its strands having been what alerted him to his presence in the first place. At first, he thinks to sweep it away with a broom he knows is hidden somewhere in your storeroom. You weren’t the biggest fan of bugs or arachnids; he was surprised you hadn’t rid your shop of it by now. But he can’t find it within himself to brush the web asunder. It had worked hard to build and craft its home; he knew firsthand how difficult creating something from nothing was. 

“Her name is Jorōgumo.” Vernon had walked up behind Wonwoo with little announcement. The younger jumps, turning his head to look at the other. “I offered to kill her… him…? For her but she said it was eating the bugs and to let it be.”

Wonwoo eyes the fat-bodied spider, “Why is it named that?”

“It’s a fairytale from Japan, there’s a spider that looks like a woman. It entices men to follow her and then eats them while they’re distracted,” Vernon explains, the sound of the storeroom opening behind him.

“Are you bullying Arachne again?” You frown, handing the swatches to Vernon and looking up to the small web in the corner.

“I am not bullying Jorōgumo.”

“If I’m keeping a spider in my shop, I am not naming it after a monster.”

“And a heretic is better?” Vernon scoffs, tapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, “What do you think, Pincushion?”

“I’m just wondering why both the myths have to be women,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “Do you think you’d be free this evening so I can take your measurements? I finally have some free time to start working on that dress.”

“I think so,” a nod as you look at Vernon, “Mind looking after the shop for a bit?”

1965, Early Spring “Didn’t you already measure me?” Wonwoo’s hands hold a rolling measuring tape as he holds it up to your forearm as you ask.

“Yeah, but I want to make sure this is perfect.” Tape lowered; he writes down the number into one of the journals he’d brought with him to your apartment. Trailing away from that your eyes look to the bouquet he brought when he’d come over.

“What’s the deal?” Brow furrowing at the pink, red and white blooms, “You never give me flowers.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Beaming, he’s as bright as the sun. A jilted visage against the cool tones of your apartment’s interior. He looks up to you with a vividness in his eyes, “Your boyfriend’s going to Paris.”

“What do you mean Paris?” A hitch in your voice as you ask, a strange and warped confusion overcoming you.

“Seungcheol got me an apprenticeship with one of his friends, he’s going to be in town in a few weeks to talk about it with me and I want to show off the dress there.” He’s speaking at a mile a minute, a clear excitement as he beams.

“Don’t fall for some mysterious Parisian woman while you’re there,” You poke, still unsure about how you even feel about this.

“I doubt I’ll have time to even wander the city. With all of the workshops and sessions we’ll have. It’s going to be the opportunity of a life— ow—” he says as you gently hit his shoulder. “I won’t fall for some other girl, I promise,” He laughs and continues to take your measurements.

1965, Late Spring “Did you have a good time tonight?” The lock clicking into place as he asks, your footsteps falling on the floor as you make your way to his workbench in the center of what would’ve been his living room had he not made it into a makeshift workshop. 

You note the tools, the fabrics and array of swatches that litter his home, the pincushion he wears on his wrist as he works settled onto the tabletop. It’s as if the apartment is a representation of him, messy in ambition but persevering through the struggles as he tries to find the limelight of his own. A smile forming as he walks over to you.

“I had a wonderful time, thank you for inviting me.”

It had been a small gathering at the tailor shop, a small dinner with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seungcheol’s friend and Wonwoo’s future mentor Jeonghan, and yourself. The entirety of the night you’d felt a knot forming in your stomach, the anxiety of Wonwoo’s future endeavors weighing heavily on your shoulders. You want to be happy for him but the closer it gets to Wonwoo’s departure for Paris leaves you feeling more and more despair at the event of it all.

“Thank you for coming,” Wonwoo’s hands find your sides as you lean your backside against the rough wooden edge of the table. “You made it all the more bearable,” smiling softly in the dim lighting of the apartment, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. The wine from earlier lingers on his breath, you’re sure it does the same to yours, the darkness of the red already making you warm and your body feeling weightless, almost as if you were floating in a pool of water. 

You part, staring into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation before he’s leaning in again to find your lips. His kiss seems as if it seeks to steal the breath from your lungs. To devour you entirely until all you can think of is his closeness, the softness of his lips atop yours, of just him. The woolen fabric of his overcoat is rough under your fingertips as you move your hands from the workshop table to his shoulders, gently pulling at the cloth to urge him to discard the garment. His hands leave your sides momentarily as he shrugs the jacket off, the fabric falling and pooling on the floor at his feet. A metallic clang echoing around the space as he leans forward to lock his lips with yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, soft pants escaping the both of you as you turn your head from him, your eyes trailing to the sewing scissors that had clattered onto the floor. Another rustling of fabric and you realize he’s discarded his suit jacket as well.

“Let it be,” a hand under your chin, guiding you back to the comfort of his lips. He presses himself into your touch, the way your fingers dance along the smooth cotton of his starched shirt, fiddle with the buttons and run your fingertips atop the small engravings adorning them. 

“Are we really going to do this in your workspace?” You look up to his darkened gaze, your voice caught in your throat as his own fingers move to toy with the neckline of your dress. Gentle, electric touches that have you reeling.

“Does that bother you?” His lips leave yours once more as he places soft, yearning kisses to your cheek, trailing down your jaw and then to your neck. He raises a hand to pull away the neckline of the dress to allow him better access to the apogee of nerves nestled at the point where your shoulder and neck meet. Teeth biting ever so gently that you would have mistaken it as a light graze had you not felt the sharp pinch. It pulls an almost whining sound from your vocal cords, causing your head to tilt to allow him more space to roam. 

Lips curling into a smile as he pulls away, his hand sliding from the table to your arm, then raising and gently pulling at your hair, “You didn’t answer me.” 

“God, fuck, no it doesn’t bother me,” you trap his lips in yours, tilting your head up so the orange glow of the street lamps outside shine into your eyes before you shut them, finding yourself lost in the entity of your lover. The slowest ministrations of your hips trying to roll against his, to seek out friction and closeness and the yearning of him to once again be a part of you, “Wonwoo.” Your tone is darker, needier, wanting as he presses his clothed self flush against you. 

A huff of air escaping you as he once again pulls his lips away from you, and then the gentle rolling of his hips against yours ceases as well. Eyes opening to find him looking over you, not scrutinizing, it seems as if he was rather admiring the picture that sat before him.

Head tilting, the presence of desire absent for a moment as he muses, “I think it looks amazing.” He hums as he lowers himself to his knees, somehow the softness of his voice makes you want to comply with every word uttered, “Can you sit on the table for me?”

Hands brushing against tulle and satin and a plethora of other fabrics you could care less about at this moment in time as you find your hold on the table as you move to sit atop its surface, your heeled shoes clattering to the floor as you do so. Wonwoo’s fingers caress your calves as he leans himself closer to your core, his warm breath making your mind conjure some of the most unspeakable thoughts. 

“I’ll have to let the designer know he did an amazing job,” you smile, involuntarily shivering as he slides his hands upwards, the hem of your dress inching towards your stomach the further he ascends. 

His face merely inches from your core now, your hips squirming at the proximity. “I think he’d be appreciative of the feedback,” Wonwoo smiles, his face now obscured from vision due to the collection of fabric, you have half a mind to tear it off of you, not that you ever realistically would. It’s far too precious. 

The rip of fabric, the coolness of the air hitting your now exposed sex, you whine in protest as he begins to slide the now torn fabric of your underwear away from you. 

“I’ll get you some more,” his right hand hovers over you, he uses his middle finger to swipe up the length of your slit, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. 

“Are you a lingerie atelier now— Fuck,” you begin to joke before he begins to tease your clit with the tip of his finger. He moves his middle finger slowly, languidly as he draws deep breaths and stifled moans from your lips.

After a moment, your own hand moves to your breast, trying to fondle the flesh through several layers of fabric. He changes his approach, moving lover to tease your entrance before he slips his finger inside of you and with a moan you roll your hips to try and meet him halfway. 

It’s not until he eases in another finger and begins to slowly draw them in and out of you as well as latch his lips to your clit that your vocalizations rise in volume. The digits curl inside of you, his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves and your head finds itself lost in the euphoria of the moment, your hand falling away from your breast to find itself running through Wonwoo’s locks. He hums against you as your fingers tighten their hold, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Are you close?” You look at him, lips coated with the sheen of you, a tinge to his voice that straddles between curiosity and a carnal question. 

Hand moving from his hair to his cheek you can only nod, trying to roll your hips to the increasing speed of his fingers inside of you. His eyes watching you as you do finally reach your climax, chortled breaths escaping you as well as a slew of incoherent words and his name. Wonwoo can feel the way your walls spasm around his fingers and sighs to himself as he pulls them from you, wishing that it had been more than just his digits that had made you cum.

You sit up, a little dazed and a lot more aroused than you were when you’d first stepped into the apartment. Wonwoo rises to greet you, your lips clash together and you can taste yourself on his tongue as you vie for dominance. 

“Switch with me?” You ask, parting for air, voice whispering as your hands move to once again toy with the hem of his collared shirt.

And he does, backing away from you enough so you can land your feet on the floor and trade places with him. Your turn to take control for a moment, you feel the hardness of his cock through his pants as you tentatively palm it, trying to elicit some sort of sound from him. 

“Come on, Woo, I know you’ve got it in you,” you tease, running your hand up and down the etching of his member, slowly and meticulously trying to draw him out of his shell. 

“Have what—” he cuts himself off as you run your fingers over his cockhead, a low groan as if he hadn’t wanted you to hear it. 

“Have that,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The taste of salt greeting you, the sheen of sweat on his face glittering in the lights dimly illuminating his apartment. You fall to your knees, sending shivers down your spine as the cool air that balloons the skirt of your dress as your knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Hands sliding up his thighs, you move to his belt to hastily unfasten it.

It falls away, as do his pants and underwear, you were going to mention the lack of cartoon characters adorning it, but you were too preoccupied taking him into your mouth to comment. 

Tongue running over the slit on his head, it draws the sweetest sounds from him, saccharine-like honey that drips from his moans and rings around your ears. His hand running through his hair, his other gripping the table as he tries to stop himself from bucking into your mouth as you take him further. 

Your knees ache from the rough floor, the pain not deterrent enough for you to forget about the wetness between your legs. Fidgeting as your head bobs up and down on his length, you don’t think he takes notice. Yet Wonwoo was more perceptive than he let on at times, considering his hand now rests upon your hollowing cheek. 

“Get up,” Wonwoo urges, his voice hoarse as he tries to gently nudge you away from his cock. “I want to cum inside of you.” When you do let him leave your mouth, a thin line of spittle trailing from his head to your lips you hear him sigh out again. It was so easy to get a reaction out of him, he almost feels like putty in the palm of your hand. 

The indents from the wood settle into the flesh of your thighs as he helps you stand and lightly pushes you back onto the table. His belt clattering onto the floor as he fully kicks off his pants, his shoes, and briefs. 

You wonder at this point if you should take off the dress, but as your hand begins to reach for the zipper, he stops you, “No, keep it on.”

He kisses you again, taking his hands to gently pry your legs open so he can align himself with your core. Lips parting, you feel his cock brush up against your entrance before he pushes himself into you, his hands moving to trail up the sides of your legs. Slowly, feeling every inch enveloping him as his fingers tighten their hold on the skin of your hips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, fully sheathing himself inside of you. His brown eyes meeting yours, tongue darting out to wetten his lips, “Do you need a minute?”

When you shake your head no you fully expect him to start rutting into you with reckless abandon as he did most nights you stayed together. But he doesn’t, instead he starts to roll his hips into you, not trying to fuck the life out of you, rather trying to gauge how and what made you feel good.

“Woo,” you mutter with half-lidded eyes, hands trailing up his arms and to his shoulders, your nails digging into the now exposed skin. It was sure to leave marks, but only small crescent moons that would fade away come morning. 

It’s whispered ‘I love you’s’ that fall from his lips as your forearms wrap around his neck to pull you up and draw him in closer, a thrumming in your chest each time he says it. And you repeat it back to the best of your ability, to find a constancy in him that hadn’t ever made itself presentable to you in a lover or significant other before. 

For a moment you’re able to lose yourself in him, to forget that he’d be leaving you soon and your heart along with it. You’re enveloped in the presence of him and you wouldn’t have it any other way, you wouldn’t let it be any other way. 

Wonwoo’s thrusts become more sporadic as he reaches his end, one of his hands leaving your side and moving to your clit to try and bring you over with him one more time. You’re sensitive and strung out on him, legs tensing as they try to close, stopping around his waist as you press your forehead to his shoulder. 

He cums with little warning, other than his hand moving from your clit and back to your side as he stills himself within you. The sweat collected on both of your bows intermingles when he presses his forehead against yours. His breathing slows as he regains his composer, kissing you as he slides himself out of you. When he pulls away to slide on his briefs you land your feet on the ground with shaky legs, holding the edge to balance yourself.

Wonwoo turns back to you and almost has to stifle a short laugh, your face contorting to the feel of his essence leaving you, it’s strange but not overtly bad. Just not something you’re fully accustomed to.

“Let’s wash up, hm?” Hand taking yours, he leads you to his small bedroom, only stopping midway so he can help you out of your clothes. He unzips the dress, the cool air of his apartment fully encasing you as he pulls the fabric off your shoulders. You feel his lips press a soft kiss onto the nape of your neck and he catches the scent of the perfume you’d applied earlier in the evening. The dress falls, pooling at your feet and you step from its depths and onto the hardwood floor. Before you’re able to reach for the dress, Wonwoo’s swept it up, already moving to hang it in his closet. 

The two of you shower together, reminiscing on a handful of occasions with him that you’d fully devoted to memory but also of the future as well. Wonwoo was excited to leave, every mention of it fractalizing your heart just a little bit more, not that you’d let him know, you just put on a smile and tell him how happy you are for him.

You borrow a shirt from him to wear to bed, exiting the bathroom while he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. While he does, you wander his room, looking at the shelves that adorn the space. Most books atop them are about tailoring or sewing, things that wouldn’t typically draw your attention. You then spot a few that are familiar, the bindings nostalgic under your fingertips as you trace them, no names or words that address their titles.

“I never realized I made you so many,” You muse, looking at Wonwoo who’s just exited the bathroom.

“I have been your loyal customer for a while now, you know.” He notes, falling into his bed and collecting the blankets, he pats the mattress beside him to beckon you closer. 

You fall back into the bed beside him after you saunter over, encased in the blankets for a moment by the duvet he tosses atop you before you look at him, “I don’t want you to go.” It’s a simple statement that carries all too much weight for those six words alone, they lie heavily in your chest, saying them aloud does nothing to stop that. 

“I know, I know,” There’s a hurt in his voice as he knows just how difficult it’ll be to part from you. “We’ve still got almost two months left before I go though, let’s try to make the most of it, okay?”

1965, Summer It had only been a month since Wonwoo landed in Paris. His French is awful, and he only knows how to call things pretty, cute or something lewder thanks to the teachings of his fellow apprentices. There are bags under his eyes from another sleepless night, a cigarette hanging from his lips (a terrible habit he’s picked up as of late), and the mute sounds of some song playing out of the bar he’d just crawled out of. It’s probably Bridget Bardot but he can’t tell from his position, not that he can understand anyway, he’s barely been able to comprehend his own thoughts.

His fingers ache, only nude bandages that are a little too pink wrapped around them because he can’t find the cartoon ones that you’d given him tucked away in his things. His eyes feel strained, tired, and pulsing from overanalyzing stitching and searching cloth for tears, pulls or other impurities. Montmartre was beautiful, not that he was able to see it often as he was constantly working. And if he wasn’t working, he was probably trying to catch up on lost rest.

This was his dream, a part of it though, the other half had you somewhere tucked away in the echelons of his fantasy life. Although he was doing what he wanted, what he loved, there was something about you being in absentia that had him feeling empty. He’d written countless letters but only signed and sent a handful, worried of saying too much and worried of saying too little. To you and his father, his father that had sent him on this path at a young age. ‘Make something of yourself,’ he’d said when Wonwoo was seven, ‘you’re too ambitious not to.’

If he could laugh at him now, he would. But his father was an ocean away, retreated somewhere in the depths of Wonwoo’s childhood that he’d rather leave behind. 

Yet on the other hand, he’d written you what felt like every day and struggled with each composition. Wonwoo had never missed someone’s voice as much as yours, the gentle feel of your hand intertwined with his or even the sounds of your footsteps trailing through your shop. He’s supposed to be happy, why isn’t he happy?

The cigarette burns, the acrid smoke filtering into his mouth as he inhales, a plume of what’s left leaving him when he huffs out, the cigarette dropped onto the ground, smoldering away. Hand flitting through his knotted locks, the dampness of sweat clinging to the pads of his fingertips as he brushes over his brow. 

Most people had dropped everything to work under Jeonghan, a certified maestro of their craft. And Wonwoo had dropped everything, not begrudgingly at first, but as the dog days of the beginning of summer and the end of spring drew near there was a rising anxiety within his chest. If you had asked him not to leave as he was standing at the terminal’s gates, he probably wouldn’t have gone at all. 

He’s been giving up more and more lately; sleep, adequate meals, a solitary living space. Wonwoo’s worried when this serpent of work will seek out to devour you away too. It’s not that he wants to let you go, but if he’s to make something of himself he might have to, as cruel and malicious it may seem. In that you waiting for him was burdensome, not to him but to yourself. While he’s off gallivanting in an ancient city you’re in your shop, was he just supposed to expect you to idly sit by and wait for him? He’s not sadistic enough to tether you down to the unknown.  

1965, Late Autumn. You’d come home that morning with a new record tucked under your arm, the words ‘Rubber Soul’ peeking over the paper sheath that the store had given you as you set it down on your countertop after discarding your shoes and jacket by the door. You hum to yourself, shedding your bag, reaching for the new record, and bringing it over to your player, Sooyoung’s worn copy of one of Billie Holiday’s albums resting on the platter. With gentle hands you remove it from the spindle, tucking it away in its cover before releasing Rubber Soul from its own and setting it onto the player. System turned on, you place the needle on the record and adjust the volume so the first few riffs of ‘Drive My Car’ begin playing through the speakers. 

Nodding your head to the rhythm, you set down the cover and make your way to the kitchen, noticing the small pile of postcards and letters you’d received from Wonwoo over the last few months. He’d been so busy he hadn’t really had the time to call or write a lot for that matter. But it wasn’t like calling was free, especially an international connection. With each new card that he sent to you, there seemed to be less that he wrote of and more empty space adorning it. 

“Hey,” You hear Sooyoung say as she exits her room, her purse in hand as she heads to the hall tree to grab a coat, “I’ve gotta head in, someone completely ruined the display for the winter collection.”

“I thought you were in charge of that?” A tilt of your head as she passes by. Sooyoung’s one of the floor managers of the flagship B. Altman some blocks away, and that left her unnecessarily stressed by the minute details of the store. 

“I am, but I let one of the new girls try and set it up,” a frown as she opens the door, “That’s what I get for trying to take on a protegee. I’ll be back around dinnertime, okay?” 

“I’ll see you then,” waving her off with a hand as the door slams shut, the sound of your friend’s key locking the door before the apartment falls into silence once more, the only sound coming from the next song on the vinyl. 

Stifling a yawn with your hand you head to the living room, plopping down onto the sofa as you reach for a magazine atop the table. It was one of your roommate’s detailing a plethora of fashion information, this seemed something like Wonwoo could take to more so than yourself. Before you’re able to get lost in the pit of missing him again the phone on the table next to the sofa begins to ring. 

“Hello?” Magazine tossed aside, you reach for the phone, pulling it to your ear as you lay reclined on the couch. Fully expecting a family member or one of Sooyoung’s friends over the line you sound a little more crass than normal.

“Whoa,” a familiar, achingly distant voice calls out, “Did I do something wrong?” 

“Wonwoo?” Eyes widening, your grip on the phone tightening before your brow furrows and you sit up, “Where are you?”

“I’m actually in a phone booth outside of Jeonghan’s shop right now,” A short laugh, there’s something quiet about it, “I feel like I’m in some sort of film.”

“It sure sounds like you are,” distancing yourself from the line for a moment as the connection pops and crackles. Ear returning to the phone you feel your heart swell as you lean against your wall, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He sounds apprehensive, as if there’s something ruminating behind his lips, but he was too afraid to say it. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner, it’s just been extremely busy here.”

Twirling the phone cord absentmindedly with your finger you shake your head, not that he could see you, “It’s alright.” The disquiet in his voice puts you on edge, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve been thinking,” He’s holding his breath, and you don’t realize that you are too.

“Of?”

“Ending this. Us.” There’s a pause, a bated breath, and a clearing of his throat before he begins to speak again. It sounds robotic, rehearsed, even. “I don’t want to leave you waiting for me when I don’t even know when I’ll be back.”

“If you don’t think I’d wait for you you’re ridiculous,” A confused tone to your voice, you blink several times as if that were the cure-all to comprehend what he was suggesting. “Is there someone else?”

“God, no, of course not. It’s just—” A break in the facade for a moment before it turns static again, “You deserve constancy. I don’t want you waiting around for me when you could be happier somewhere else with someone else who’s actually there for you.” 

“Are you serious?” With the thought of him being an ocean away you could barely go as kicking and screaming as you wanted to, but you can’t. It’s hard to collect your thoughts with so many jumbling around your head. 

“I’ll get Seungcheol or someone to stop by and get my things,” voice muffled, there was a small banging coming from the other end, as if someone’s hitting the outside of the phone booth that Wonwoo is situated in. 

“No,” you frown, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach. “I’ll drop the dress and your things off at the shop.”

“Keep the dress, it was a gift,” his voice insists, sounding defeated and tired. 

“I don’t want it, I want you, Wonwoo.”

He would rather watch the stars flicker and die from their sepulchered facades in the expanse above, watch the oceans shrivel and continents shrink, than be the source of your privation. It’s as if he can hear your heart break over the line. It isn’t loud, it isn’t ear shattering— it’s a hairline fracture that webs out and settles into every fiber of your being. He knows it because it’s the same thing he’s afflicted upon himself. 

“I’m sorry, I love you but there’s no feasible way that I can—” he pauses, and you hear a voice tinned by the crackling line. It’s French, sounds angry and causes Wonwoo to speak into the phone once more, “I— I have to go. I’ll call you back later so we can talk about this, okay?”

“Okay,” the word is lifeless as it leaves your mouth, you hang up and pull the phone away from your ear as if you could still hear his voice after you’d killed the call. 

You are a bag of bones, skin, and whatever else deigned itself rotted enough to crawl its way inside of you and flourish. Amber leaves looking more titian as you leave your apartment, a muted tone as you walk the streets and to your shop. The lights inside aren’t as bright as they once were, sounds far too muffled by the blood rushing to your ears as Vernon asks you what’s wrong.  

1966, Winter “Try this one,” The bartender standing in front of you sets down another glass. He’d been talking to you on and off the whole night trying to get your opinions on different drinks he’d been concocting to try and get put on the menu.

“What is it?” Amber liquid swirled around what looked like a dried slice of orange. The whiff of something floral and reminiscent of anise hits your nose, causing your face to scrunch. “That’s not straight absinthe and cognac, is it?”

“Cognac Tesseron, Peychaud’s Bitters, simple syrup, and just the smallest taste of absinthe,” Carefully crafted and delicately handled you pick up the glass and observe it some more. “I’m thinking about calling it the Forget Me Not, but we’ll see what management thinks of that name.” Voice tinged with that oddly specific Brooklyn accent he turns to his other clientele, leaving you with the newest cocktail. Lips carefully pressed to the glass you drink, mulling over the flavors as you do so. After thinking about it you set the glass down, lips pursed together, it wasn’t a bad taste you just wished there were more acidic notes to it.

Alone. You sit alone in the dimly lit bar that denoted itself as La Fête. Why, you aren’t sure, but the cacophony of spirits mixed into the glass between your fingers is the only thing that has made you feel well the entire evening. Some comedian stands on the stage a few meters away, giving off a routine that isn’t hitting as well as it should be. There’s muffled laughs and chortles from the audience in front of him, yet you’ve barely heard a word he’s said.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice rings out to your right; you’re unable to see who it is until they take a seat next to you.

“Mr. Hong,” Eyebrows raised as Joshua turns to face you, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen him in a month or so, not after that had happened.

“Vernon told me I could probably find you here, and Sooyoung also told me about trying to cheer you up since the gifts she got you weren’t working,” A smirk playfully bouncing on his lips. “You look awful.” Hands folding atop each other as he adjusts himself in the seat.

“What makes you say that?” Scoffing as you bring your glass to your lips, taking a sip of your drink before setting it back down.

“Vernon did say you were going through something heavy.” His tone lowers, becoming more sympathetic and less lighthearted than it’d been a moment before.

The gentle ambiance of the bar around you, as well as the slew of alcohol in your drink, mellows your inhibitions and voice. It was the calmest you’d felt the entire night. “I just needed a break from all of this,” hand motioning towards your head. 

“I can understand that” Pausing for a moment he opens a nearby menu, perusing the selections. “I just came from a conference in D.C., aren’t you going to ask why?”

“Hmm, why?” You pose, head tilting as you turn to look at him.

“We’re acquiring some major stock in Marriott,” He says with a playful lilt, “Forcing a bunch of bigwigs to give up their assets is an adrenaline rush I won’t get anywhere else but there.”

“Sounds… fun?”

“In reality it’s just a bunch of stuffy old men with their own hands up their asses,” he hums, “Although I guess I have to get used to it; I’ll be one of those men someday.”

“Joshua Hong you will never be like any of those men,” sigh losing itself in your glass as you bring it back to your lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” as he closes his menu, he calls the bartender over, ordering some drink that sounds all too extravagant for your taste.

The pair of you sit in silence for a few moments, your glass now set atop the marble bar as your eyes wander around the warm, eclectic interior. “Are you merging them with that Canadian group? I can’t remember their name.” Snapping your fingers together as you try and recall. You look back to Joshua, who was beginning to take a drink of another one of the bartender’s creations.

The glass now moved away, and he frowns into the back of his hand; you wonder if it’s due to the alcohol. Head shaking in the negative he answers, “I actually left that partnership a year or so ago, decided I didn’t want any of ‘Daddy’s Help’ and tried my own hand at it.” Leaning back, he adjusts the lapels of his suit jacket, “And I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I do say so myself.” His confidence is a manic beast at times, but it never fails to make you roll your eyes. “What about you? Gonna commercialize your shop anytime soon?”

“As if,” You snort and look towards the darkened windows of the venue, “I’m perfectly fine in my shop,” Elbow resting on the counter, you lay your cheek atop your hand as your hair falls around your face, looking up at Joshua as your cheeks warm with embarrassment, “It’s all I can manage.”

Joshua laughs, it’s hearty and you feel your pulse rise along with the heat in your cheeks, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Shoulder shrugging, he returns to his drink while you sit up, rubbing your cheek.

“We’ll see when I get there,” smirk showing itself again as his fingers trace circles on the light marble of the bar. “Oh, weird, crazy question really,” His hand moves to his jacket, fumbling around one of the inside pockets for a moment as he searches for something. 

“Want to go to a wedding with me?” A piece of elegantly cut cardstock tossed down onto the bar, you don’t recognize the names scrawled onto the front of it in some pretentious calligraphy.

“Aren’t you dating that girl?” Fingers pulling the card closer, trying to recall the name, “Yoona or something? Why don’t you take her?”

Joshua almost chokes on his water as you speak, hitting his hand against his chest to get some air. “God no,” He coughed, setting his water glass down. “Yoona’s just a family friend, more like my big sister than anything else. If anything, my sister will get married before me.”

You nod your head in understanding, “Ah, is she still dating Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust them to tell me if it was raining outside or not,” he muses. Suddenly his demeanor turns mischievous, you’re not sure how to properly describe it as he leans in towards you, the smirk back with a vengeance. “But why were you interested in who I’m dating? Are you curious?”

It takes most of your willpower to lean back away from him and roll your eyes as you scoff out, “As if.” He only increasingly gets closer before you put a hand on his shoulder and playfully push him back.

“And what about you?” Does he seem nervous? You hear a genuine interest in his voice, but you aren’t sure if you’re exaggerating it due to the miasma of spirits clouding your senses. “Has any prince charming come up and swept you off your feet yet?”

“Does it look like it?” Eyebrow raised, you motion to yourself, “Vernon told you why I’m here, didn’t he?” Frown settling onto your lips you finish your drink, setting it down back onto the bar with an audible clink. 

“He may have mentioned it in passing,” Joshua mutters, finger rubbing along the rim of his glass.

“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks, months even and he has the audacity to send in an order?” You try your best to sound indignant, but the truth was that it’d felt like a stab to your heart to see the hastily signed ‘Wonwoo Jeon’ adorning the invoice. Your heart had almost stopped then, you’d thought that you and he were, at that point, separate entities once more. “He made it blatantly clear he wants nothing to do with me anymore, he can go woo as many Parisians as he’d like, I’m over it.” Not yet, you aren’t. But maybe repeating it enough will make it a reality.

“You know what I think?” Joshua asks, finishing the rest of his drink as you look at your empty glass.

“I’m not drunk enough?”

“I think you’re plenty gone. But I don’t think you’ve ever let anything destroy you this much, or if you have, I’m a terrible friend for not realizing it. And with that being said, I will personally take up the reins to try and get you out of this slump,”

“Any other thoughts, O wise and wonderful mood maker?” 

“Yeah, this comedian’s garbage. I’ll take you to a Lenny Bruce set one day and you’ll laugh your ass off.”

“I appreciate it,” a snicker leaves you. “Anyway,” your eyes move to your watch, checking the time, “I should probably head back to my place, it’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” You rummage around your bag for a crumpled mess of bills that you toss onto the counter in front of you.

You stand and begin moving towards the exit when Joshua speaks up, “Want me to walk with you?”

“If you want to,” pausing, you turn back to him and offer a smirk of your own, “it’s not too far away.” The two of you walk in silence through the winding interior of the bar as you make your way to the front entrance, you see through the large wooden doors that it is pitch black outside, thankfully the streetlights adorning the sidewalks keep things fairly visible. When the doors open and the two of you step outside you can’t help but let out a “Shit, it got cold.” 

“Here,” Joshua shrugs off his already unbuttoned suit jacket and hands it to you, you can see the thin dress shirt he’s wearing, and you wonder how he’s not shivering himself. “Did you leave your jacket inside?” He asks as you drape the soft fabric over your shoulders.

“At the shop,” Standing outside, your toes on the edge of the sidewalk, your head cranes, trying to remember which way you’d walked here. “It’s…” you look at the signs at the end of the street, “that way,” hand motioning towards your abode once you recognize the names. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, I can always call a cab or something, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s alright,” His shoulders shrug as the two of you begin walking, “It’ll help the alcohol get out of your system.” Had he seen you stumbling on your feet on your way out? If he did, he doesn’t say as the two of you walk the uneven streets, pushing through masses of tourists and civilians parading around the city. It’s not long until the crowds wear thin, leaving you, Joshua, and the occasional pedestrian roaming the streets. “I’ve always loved this city,” Joshua muses as the two of you stroll through one of the many parks dotting the town.

Nodding, “It’s lively for sure.” Your hands move to close his jacket tighter around your bare shoulders, “I don’t think I could imagine leaving it.”

“Maybe for a summer home though?” Joshua laughs, moving his hands to his pockets. “I remember how you’d stay inside whenever it snowed or went below thirty when we were kids.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, “I wouldn’t say it’s that much of a problem anymore, I’m just a big fan of the sun in all its glory, not when it’s obscured behind a wall of cl—” Perhaps you would’ve finished that sentence had the heel of your, admittedly too high-heeled shoe not gotten caught between one of the junctures of the sidewalk, causing you to fall forward. You feel a pair of hands on you, one wrapped around your waist and one on your shoulder, as the ground rapidly rises to meet you.

Eyes closed you hear, “Are you alright?” as you’re hoisted back up onto your feet, never feeling the impact of the ground. 

“I’m fine.” Once his hands had left you, you raise your hands to your cheeks, feeling the rushing blood warm your palms, “I guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought.”

Joshua looks at you for a moment, and then down to your feet, “I think you broke a heel.” Finger raised; you follow it downwards to look at the heel almost completely detached from the sole. “Here,” voice quickening as if to distract you from it, he takes your arm and puts it over his shoulder so you can lean some of your weight onto him, “wouldn’t want you to fall over again.” After offering him a quick smile and a small ‘thanks’ of gratitude you begin to walk again.

After a minute or so of walking, the pair of you take a turn onto one of the main drags of the city, the cool air soaking into you. “Do you mind if we stop for a second?” You ask, thinking you may have twisted your ankle when you tripped.

“Of course,” the two of you make your way to a bench along the sidewalk, you sit while Joshua stands next to you. It’s a moment of quiet before he speaks up again, “Are you feeling alright?”

You can only shake your head in the negative, for fear that you may explode should you open your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, sitting down next to you, his hand falling atop yours in an act of subtle comfort.

Everything. Your throat becomes dry as you lean forward and embrace him, unable to vocalize the horrid deluge of hopelessness and heartbreak washing over you. 

You had seen the shop where Wonwoo was apprenticing when you’d gone into Seungcheol’s one morning, it had been featured in some editorial that he subscribed to. Seeing that it was a beautiful boutique and was quite revered among local and international audiences hadn’t dampened the blow at all. Wonwoo hadn’t been lying when he said it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

It still hurts. You’d been selfish in trying to make things work, too absorbed in it you hadn’t felt him slipping away until it was too late. Vernon had sat you down one day and told you to shape up. Wonwoo wasn’t coming back and the sooner you realized it the sooner you’d get over him. You don’t remember how long you cried into his shoulder for. For the eidolon of him was beginning to fade now, the lingering remnants of it still striking you to the core whenever you catch a glimpse of it.

“I just want to go home,” you try your best to sound strong, hating that the veneer you usually kept was able to slip so easily. Pulling away from the other you move to stand, kicking off your shoes and moving to hold them before you begin to walk.

“Aren’t your feet going to get cold? It’s nearly the middle of winter,” Joshua calls out after you as he catches up, unsure of how to go about comforting you.

“I’ll be fine,” your toes cold on the concrete, “It’s only a few blocks away.”

It’s silence once more as the pair of you two amble to your apartment, the windows dark when you approach, Sooyoung must be out again. A sigh leaving you, alone again.

“Thanks for walking with me, Shua.” You stop, turning to your accompaniment and smiling softly at him.

“Shua?” His brow raises at that, “Are you sure you’re not still drunk? I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were twelve.”

“Yeah, I know. But I mean it, thank you.” Your other friends had tried to console you but Joshua’s attempt had been the most successful so far that had gotten you to even budge ever so slightly from the slump you’d found yourself in.

1967, Summer. The sparkler hisses as Joshua hands it to you, the bright end flickering with every centimeter the flame engulfs. A smile on your lips as you look at him, an equally bemused smile gracing his face as he steps away and begins handing out sparklers to a few other guests. After the host finishes handing out the sticks a large chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ begins to ring out, directed at Jihoon Lee. 

You didn’t really know the guy, but Joshua said he was hosting a birthday bash at a lake house up in the Catskills this weekend and it was a good excuse to get away from the city for a bit. It was a work friend of his, not sure from which endeavor but you aren’t complaining. Work at the shop had been far too busy to manage with just Vernon and you, you’d been looking at several applicants, but you had a difficult time sifting through the resumes. This was a much needed, and much deserved, break away from it all. 

Before the sparkler has a chance to burn down to your fingertips you blow it out and set it onto one of the porcelain plates atop the table in front of you. A small crowd had gathered to sing and with the rapidly setting sun it was difficult to see familiar faces among the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” A pair of hands placed on your hips as the question sounds out, the familiarity of it making you smile a little brighter.

“Just you,” You turn, looking at Joshua.

“Oh?” He questions, leaning in for a brief kiss before pulling away, “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’re thinking of something,” A sparkle in his eye, the light from the nearby dock casting a green glow onto the lawn.

“Just work things,” you admit, “Even if I’m miles away from the shop it’s still on my mind.”

“Work’s a sickness, isn’t it?” He mutters, “Well, they’ve already started to cut the cake, want to head in and grab a slice?”

“Sure,” you say as his hands leave your sides, taking one of your hands in his and heading through the lawn and into the brightly lit interior of the home.

“Seungcheol said he’d be arriving a little later, my sister’s ready to blow a gasket but, when isn’t she?” Joshua laughs as you make your way to a nearby table, grabbing a plate with a precut slice of cake on it before turning back to him.

“Is this from the same bakery who made my cake last year?” You ask with nearly a mouthful of cake.

“I told you I made that cake,” he says jokingly, grabbing his own slice, “And if it were, would you say yea or nay for them making the wedding cake?”

“Yea. Definitely, this is by far the best buttercream I’ve ever had,” you nod, “Although I do need a drink.”

“Amaretto sour?” Questioning as he sets down his plate, ready to go off and mix your drink himself.

“You know I can’t,” a frown settling on your lips as you take another bite, “Just water.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Joshua says and heads to the bar in the next room over.

You move out of the way of the other partygoers looking for food and make your way to a window that looks out at the road in front of the house. As you watch, you see the bright headlights of a car pulling into the drive, trying to careen past the other vehicles lined up there. It must be Seungcheol.

It’d been a while since you’d last seen him, having to mail his orders to him now that you’d moved shop locations. So, you head to the front door, anxious to see an old friend. The door opens with a swing of grandeur, Seungcheol Choi stepping inside with a clear look of panic on his face.

Seungcheol spots you as he enters, rushing over to you, “She’s not angry, is she?”

“Your wife?” You question, putting a finger under your chin in thought, “She’s only told half of the people here how upset she is, so I think you still have time to save yourself.”

“I’d better get in there then,” he sighs, almost brushing past you before he stops, “I should also tell you that—”

You don’t hear what he says, though. Because you hadn’t realized that there was someone standing behind him until they step through the dark entranceway and into the bright lights of the foyer. For a moment it feels like time has stopped, the plate in your hand straining from the pressure your fingers now exert on it as you lock eyes with someone you hadn’t ever expected to see again.

It’s you who breaks away first, mumbling about needing to find Joshua while it feels as if your heart seizes upon itself in your chest. Before you’re able to rejoin the party, you feel a hand gently grasp your arm, “Can we talk?” The question is quiet, almost lost in the atmosphere of the celebration as Wonwoo asks.

A strangled gulp as you nod, setting the plate down on a small mail-table before you brush past him exit out of the front door. He follows you wordlessly, from the gravel path that wraps around the house and to the backyard that overlooks the lake. You keep walking, wading through grass that comes up to your knees until you’re standing on the wooden dock, the gentle sloshing of water hitting the posts giving you something else to focus on.

Face green in the glow of the dock light overhead, it beams around the soft fog rising from the water as you hope it would swallow you up instead of you having this conversation with Wonwoo. 

“You never returned my calls,” he says, standing several feet away. His tone isn’t accusatory, it sounds hurt.

“I kept forgetting.” Liar. Nails digging into your palms as your hands clench with an anxiety that hadn’t riddled you for two years. “And you only called four times.”

“Five.”

“Four.” Resolution in your voice as you try and stand as firmly as you can. The shoes you’re wearing are pinching your heels and you want nothing more than to kick them off into the water. You turn to look at him, trying to stay calm. “Would you have picked up even if I did call back?” A tangle in your stomach as you recall having Sooyoung answer the phone for the next handful of weeks after the two of you had parted, each time he’d called Sooyoung would say you weren’t home.

He hesitates, at least his body does, the words, “Of course I would have,” escaping him before he could prepare himself with a more eloquent response.  

“You seem to be doing well,” It’s silent until you break it, noting the suit he was wearing was from a higher end retailer.

“So, do you,” a break in his voice as he notices the crack in your demeanor, “I didn’t see you at Seungcheol’s wedding, I thought he would have invited you.”

“My mother got sick, so I missed it,” you recall having to forgo the event last year. Did that mean Wonwoo had been back that soon?

“You still have the dress.” There had been a melancholy deep set into your bones that had lasted for what seemed like lifetimes, now resurfacing more and more the longer you look at him. You’d forgotten about what you were wearing, the same dress that the tailor had labored unknown hours over and that had been the figurative wedge between you and him. Maybe this was some deity’s cruel sense of irony. “I still think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made,” 

“It’s a little tighter now but it’s still one of my favorites,” you can’t lie. Be it from the laborious love that was sewn into every stitch or the bygone memories associated with it, it was and still is one of the best pieces you own.

“I really was an idiot for letting you go, wasn’t I?” Hands shoved into pockets, he’s not sure what to do with himself.

“You did what you had to.” Brow hardening, a remembrance of the last time you’d spoken.

“Don’t say it like that,” a soft plea, he’d never meant to hurt you.

“Then how should I say it?” Bitterness you thought forgotten riddles every word you pose. 

“You know I tried to visit your shop when I first came back,” Deterrent of the conversation, he looks across the water to the distant shore. “But it was empty, some guy passing by had said you packed up months earlier and just left.”

“There was a water main break, ruined most of our inventory and we had to rebuild from scratch in a new place.” You still remember the dread you’d felt that morning, walking in to find everything in shambles.

“With Joshua’s help?”

“Joshua helped.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” eyes flickering to the ring on your finger, the light of the dock glinting off the main stone. “He’s a lucky man.”

Wonwoo sounds bitter, you can understand why but you can’t understand one thing. “Why did you come? I’m sure that Seungcheol said that I was going to be here.”

“I don’t know.” The answer is simple, but there’s a heaviness to it that you can feel. “I’m supposed to be flying out to Milan tomorrow. I guess I just wanted to see you again.”

“Did you expect me to fall into your arms, Wonwoo? To take you back?” Lip bitten, you’re sure you were going to draw blood if you kept at it any longer.

“Maybe I did when I came back last year, when I’d tried to see you.” He frowns, “I think now I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Happy. It feels as if that word dances off of the water behind you, across the sound and into the forest. Were you? The encroaching despair that had taken aim and marked you when Wonwoo had left was gone, a memory overwritten by the years that had followed, by the people who had followed. The shedding of yourself that came when he left took a while but without a doubt you can truly say this is the most complacent you’ve ever been.

The door to the lake house opens some ways behind Wonwoo, the lights from inside spreading across the lawn in an obscene spotlight on the two of you. A silhouette stands in the doorway, it’s easy to tell who the figure is as he leans against the door frame. You smile as you look at the outline of Joshua, heart swelling as it once had for the other man in front of you.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, I’m happy.”

enjoy what you read? leave a comment! it helps with motivating us writers to keep producing content for our lovely readers ❤

[imloyaltoscoups]

stop playing | jeon wonwoo

As the game's intense soundtrack filled the room, Wonwoo was fully immersed in the virtual world, his focus unwavering as he navigated through each challenge with precision. Meanwhile, you lounged nearby, feeling a mischievous urge to steal his attention away from the screen.

"Hey, love" you called out playfully, hoping to draw him away from the game for a moment.

But he was too engrossed, his concentration unbroken by your voice. Determined to grab his attention, you decided to up the ante. You slipped off your shorts and underwear, leaving yourself clad only in his oversized shirt. With a mischievous grin, you settled back, waiting for the perfect moment to make your move.

Finally, a brief pause in the game presented itself, and you seized the opportunity. With a swift motion, you reached over and began to undo his pants, your actions catching him completely off guard.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Wonwoo exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face you, his hands hovering over the keyboard in confusion.

You met his startled gaze with a playful smirk, your fingers still working to remove his pants. "Just trying to get your attention, babe," you replied, your tone filled with mischief.

A mixture of shock and amusement crossed Wonwoo's features as he processed the situation, his lips twitching into a grin despite himself. "Well, you certainly got it," he chuckled, reaching out to gently tug you closer. "But maybe we can save this for after I finish this level?"

You pout slightly, feigning disappointment as you protest, "But Wonwoo, I want your attention now. I've been waiting patiently for you to notice me."

He chuckles softly at your playful protest, but his eyes still flicker back to the screen. "I know, babe, I'm sorry. This level is just really tricky."

Crossing your arms in mock indignation, you huff, "Fine, if you're going to keep playing, then I'll just... find something else to do."

As you start to turn away, Wonwoo's hand reaches out to gently grasp your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "Wait," he says, his tone suddenly serious yet tinged with a hint of mischief, "How about this? Why don't you... cockwarm me for a little while? It'll be like having your attention and letting me play at the same time."

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, so now you want me to multitask, huh?"

He grins sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, when you put it like that..."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you give in, sliding closer to him and straddling his lap. As you settle down, you can feel the warmth of his body beneath you, and the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you that, despite his focus on the game, he's more than happy to have you close.

As Wonwoo's eyes remain fixed on the screen, his focus unyielding, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his neck in a series of slow, teasing kisses. You feel a thrill of satisfaction as you hear his breath catch slightly, his body reacting to your touch even as he tries to maintain his concentration on the game.

You press your lips against his skin, sucking gently and leaving a mark in your wake, relishing in the small gasp that escapes his lips. But as you feel his cock growing beneath you, a surprised gasp escapes your own lips, and you can't help but voice your protest.

"Won, stop getting it big," you whine, your tone a mixture of surprise and playful annoyance.

Wonwoo chuckled softly, his laughter mixing with the ambient sounds of the game. "Sorry, it has a mind of its own," he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

Undeterred by his casual response, you continued to nibble and suck at his neck, feeling his cock twitching inside you in response to your touch. Sensing your own desire rising, you bit down on his shoulder to steady yourself, a low growl escaping from Wonwoo's lips as he felt the slight sting of your teeth.

As minutes tick by, your breath comes in heavy pants as you feel the wetness between your legs, a clear sign of your arousal building with each passing moment. Yet, Wonwoo's cock remains inside you, the throbbing sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Do you want to move?" he teases, his voice low and husky with desire, his lips brushing against your ear.

You let out a soft whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cling to him desperately. "Just hold on a little longer," you manage to gasp out, your own voice thick with need.

Wonwoo chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine as he tightens his grip on your hips. "If I kill the final boss," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, "I'll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for days."

His words ignite a fire within you, and you can't help but tighten your legs around his waist, craving the pressure and friction. He hisses in response to your actions, his own arousal evident as he presses closer to you, the sensation of his cock inside you driving you both to the brink of ecstasy.

"Please," you beg, your voice desperate and pleading, "I want you now."

Wonwoo's gaze flickers to you briefly, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You need to learn to be patient," he chides gently, his attention still divided between you and the game.

You whimper softly in frustration, feeling your wetness continue to flow, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment. Despite your protests, Wonwoo's resolve remains unwavering, his attention firmly fixed on the screen.

As you wait patiently, resting your chin on Wonwoo's shoulder, your eyes flicker up to the clock above, marking the passage of time. Suddenly, you hear him shout in triumph, a victorious "Yes!" escaping his lips. You know that he's beaten the game.

Before you can fully register what's happening, Wonwoo's hands are on your waist, lifting your body and thrusting it down onto his cock. A startled moan escapes you at the sudden action, your body instinctively responding to his rough movements.

You've been waiting for this, craving his touch, and now that he's finally giving it to you, the sensation is almost overwhelming. But despite the roughness of his movements, you remain surprisingly composed, your desire driving you to meet his every thrust with eager anticipation.

"You really behaved the whole time," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he moves your waist up and slams you harder onto his cock. "My baby needs a reward, right? For being such a good girl."

His words send a shiver of excitement coursing through you, and you nod eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Yes, please," you whimper, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

As he thrusts you roughly, your desire intensifies, and you find yourself craving the taste of his lips. With a sense of urgency, you seek out his mouth, and when your lips finally meet, it's like a spark ignites between you.

You clash your lips against his, a desperate hunger driving your movements. Sensing your eagerness, he responds eagerly, his own desire evident as he seeks to deepen the kiss even further.

With a soft gasp, you part your lips, inviting him in, and he doesn't hesitate to take advantage. His tongue slides into your mouth, dominating the kiss with a raw intensity that leaves you breathless.

In the midst of the heated exchange of kisses and thrusts, Wonwoo's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his praise sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"You're so good, baby," he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. "Clinging to me like this, driving me wild."

His words only fuel your desire further, and you tighten your grip around him, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you find yourself clinging to him even tighter, your nails digging into his skin in a silent plea for more.

As the intensity builds, Wonwoo's praises continue, each word driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Just like that."

The intensity of pleasure builds between you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, you can feel the familiar sensation of climax looming on the horizon. Wonwoo's movements grow faster, more desperate, a silent acknowledgment that you're both teetering on the brink of release.

But just as he seems on the verge of letting go, he pauses, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he considers his next move. Sensing his hesitation, you lock eyes with him, a silent plea in your gaze.

"Release it inside me," you whisper urgently, your voice filled with need. "It's safe today."

Wonwoo's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, surprise flickering across his features before a smirk spreads across his lips. Without a word, he resumes his movements, his thrusts growing even faster, more urgent.

As the pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel him tensing beneath you, his release imminent. And then, with a guttural groan, he lets go, his hot seed spilling inside you as you clench around him, your own release crashing over you in waves.

As you catch your breath, resting your head against his neck, Wonwoo's hand gently caresses your head, his touch comforting and tender. "We should do this more often," he murmurs, his voice filled with a warmth that mirrors the love you feel radiating from him.

You nod in agreement, a contented smile gracing your lips. "Cockwarming while you're playing," you add with a playful chuckle, remembering the exhilarating thrill of the moment.

Wonwoo's eyes light up with amusement at your suggestion, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths. "Definitely," he agrees, his tone playful yet sincere. "It adds a whole new level to gaming."

But just as you're settling into the comfortable intimacy of the moment, Wonwoo suddenly remembers his earlier promise, the one that left you breathless with anticipation.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky, "I did promise to fuck you until you can't walk straight for days, didn't I?" he says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Before you can respond, Wonwoo sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly towards the bedroom. You gasp in astonishment, your heart pounding with excitement at the sudden turn of events.

"I wasn't kidding," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he carries you across the threshold. "Consider this round one."

With a playful grin, you wrap your arms around his neck, eager to see where the night will take you.

As he lays you down on the bed with a tender touch, his lips meet yours in a series of soft, lingering kisses. Each touch is filled with promise, a silent reassurance that he intends to fulfill the pledge he made earlier.

....... ≿━━━༺WONWOO༻━━━≾ .......

[bitchlessdino]

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.” 

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

 “Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.” 

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?” 

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

[eomayas]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) • jww [req]

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x f!reader, fwb2l au

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!, fluff, angst

request: you start to have feelings for you FWB. unbeknownst to you, he feels the same way.

warnings: p in v, oral (f receinving), unprotected s*x, hand holding during intercourse, miscommunication, wonwoo is a munch

a/n: thank you for the request! i hope you like it :) it’s a bit long

lying in wonwoo’s arms with your cheek pressed against his bare chest, you think to yourself: i could get used to this. but the thought is quickly stripped from your mind, vanishing within a second once you remember that this isn’t something to get used to. it’s strictly no strings attached, and lying on his chest every night comes with strings that he is adamant about not having. “i don’t want to be tied down,” his voice echos in your head, practically taunting you ever time you think about him as more; more than just this guy that you sleep with a few times a week, more than just a booty call. simply more. you lightly shake your head as if you’re trying to get rid of any thoughts of him. “hmm?” he mumbles from above you, hand tightening around your arm ever so slightly.

“nothing,” your voice is nearly a whisper, hoarse from previously crying out his name, and not having talked for awhile. wonwoo hums and sweeps his hand from your arm to your bare hip. it’s not long before his fingers are rubbing your skin and you’re fighting to keep your interest in the tv show he put on. he’s aware that you’re trying to ignore him, but because he can feel your warm, bare heat against his upper thigh he doesn’t wait for you to finally give in.

“hey,” he says, drawing your attention. you flick your eyes up at him, and he almost smiles at how cute you look with your cheek smooshed against him and your eyes wide and innocent. you see the corner of his lip twitch, but it’s so quick that you worry you nearly imagined it. with a tilt of his head, he’s beckoning you up towards him.

you straddle his lap, settling against his stomach. you arch down to him, pressing your lips against him and holding yourself up by pressing your hands flat against his firm chest. wonwoo grips onto your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh and softly massaging and kneading your ass.

it’s hard to not want more from wonwoo when he touches and kisses you like this, like you’re the only thing he wants in this world, at this moment, in this lifetime. you consider that maybe it’s the bare minimum, that he should feel like this anyway because he’s about to fuck you, but you don’t really have much time to think deeper because he’s biting your bottom lip before running his tongue over it. “lemme eat you out,” he rasps, grip on your ass tightening.

wordlessly, you topple off of him onto the bed and he’s rolling on top of you, hands planted on the bed beside either side of your head. he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your jaw, sucking on the underside until you breathe out a little sigh. he continues down, lips kissing down your neck and skating over your collar bones. he usually sucks marks into your skin, but he’s eager to get his mouth on you.

he kisses the tops of your breasts and bypasses your nipples to kiss down the valley of your breasts until he gets to your stomach. your hands rest on his upper back, nails already lightly pressing into his skin in anticipation. wonwoo flicks his eyes up to yours when he gets to the top of your pelvis, the look he gives you enough to make you tense up and part your legs wider. wonwoo smirks and presses a long kiss to your inner thigh, this time sucking a hickey into the skin. above him, you relax against the pillows and smooth your hand over this hair, your touch featherlight.

wonwoo pretends that he doesn’t feel something inside of him twitch at your soft gesture. he attempts to calm himself down by remembering that everything is heightened right now because you’re about to have sex—though that makes him freeze because what you two are supposed to be doing is just sex. nothing more, nothing less that that. he shouldn’t be feeling things because you’re touching his hair when he’s between your legs. “wonwoo,” you call out, palm applying light pressure on the crown of his head as you try to urge him lower onto your core.

ah—you only wanted him to get on with it. at least that’s what he tells himself; it does enough to calm him down, and he sinks lower, kneeling at the foot of the bed and pulling you towards the end of the mattress, until your glistening core is in front of his face. usually he makes you beg for his mouth, but this is for him as much as it’s for you, so he wastes no more time and sticks out his tongue to lick an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit.

you thread your your fingers through his hair with your left hand, a loose grip on the strands. wonwoo licks up your folds again, his tongue flat and relaxed against you. he flicks his tongue against your clit and you gasp, core tightening around nothing but aching for him. another gasp from you, and he finally buries his face into your cunt, arms hooking around your thighs to hold them open around his head.

your back arches off the bed when he suctions his lips around your clit, seemingly trying to suck the soul out of you. “w-wonwoo,” you breathe out, pressing down onto his head and gripping onto the sheets with your free hand. your chin drops against your chest and you try to keep your eyes open to watch him, but between him sucking on your clit and prodding at your hole with his tongue, it’s proving to be difficult.

wonwoo pulls you impossibly closer, nose bumping against your sensitive mound as he licks you from the inside out, bobbing his head as he does. you moan and whimper above him each time his nose rubs against your clit, your hips bucking up into his face. wonwoo releases his hold from around your legs to press against the insides of your thighs. “stop moving,” he mumbles from in between your legs, grunting when you close your legs around his head due to the vibrations from his voice against your core.

“sorry,” you squeak, shakily opening your legs wider for him. wonwoo retracts one of his hands to slip two fingers inside of you, curling and drawing out moans from you that only spur him on. “w-wonwoo, please!” you whine, throwing your head back and jerking your hips upwards. you’re not sure what you’re begging for; maybe to make you cum soon, for mercy, for more.

he growls something between your legs and shoulders his way in between your thighs, keeping you spread open. your chest rises and falls rapidly with every flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers inside of you. a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach, the pressure building and building the longer he works you out on his tongue. “fuck, wonwoo,” you whimper out, grip on his hair tightening.

the satisfying sting on his scalp spurs him on, mouth ravishing you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to eat you out. you cry out curses, thighs shaking against his shoulders.

euphoria reaches you almost without warning, your cunt spasming around his fingers as you release gushes out of you. wonwoo laps at you, his tongue eagerly licking up your juices. he pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel so empty but don’t have much time to worry about that while wonwoo continues to eat you out through your orgasm. it’s as enjoyable for him as it is for you—he could eat you out all day if given the opportunity.

“w-won,” you pant, vision spotty as your legs tremble. his eyes drag up to yours, pure hunger swimming in his orbs. one look at you, and he (reluctantly) pulls his mouth off of your core, lips glistening from your arousal. wonwoo kisses the inside of your thigh, his hand stroking your knee, before he sits back and licks his lips. “t-thanks.” you rasp, draping an arm over your eyes.

“give me minute,” you croak, sweat beading along your forehead and sliding down your temple. wonwoo doesn’t mind; hes patient and not in a rush. he gets off of the floor and stretches, rolling his neck and sighing when his joints crack and pop. he stretches his arms above his head, the tension in his shoulder blades releasing with a dull pop.

while you recover, he walks over to the drawer where he keeps his condoms and grabs the box. it feels light, and he shakes it to double check. when nothing rattles, he feels his heart sink and peers into the box in disbelief. “i’m out of condoms,” he says incredulously, running a hand through his hair.

“oh,” is all you say, your tone lacking disappointment. wonwoo gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment, staring down at the empty box of trojans.

“i’ll pull out?” he asks, ear turning red in mild embarrassment. he is expecting a ‘no’, for this night to be over quicker than he really wants—you’re never here longer than you want to be—and he won’t really be upset if you say ‘no’, because it’s risky, and you two aren’t really there in your relationship. there’s only been one night where you two didn’t use protection; it was after a night spent drinking together. the next morning he brought you a plan b, and the two of you didn’t speak for a few days.

wonwoo tries his hardest to keep everything between the two of you casual, just like how you said you wanted it to be between the two of you. sometimes those lines get blurred, and he doesn’t always know how to gauge your feelings without asking (which he rarely does), thus leading him to asking you risky questions like his previous one.

“okay.”

wonwoo whips his head around to look at you upon hearing your response. you’re still lying flat on your back with an arm thrown across your face. “what?”

“i said ‘okay’” your voice is calm, almost too calm that it makes him wonder if you’re aware of what you’re agreeing to. but wonwoo rushes over to you anyway, crawling on top of you and pulling your arm away from your face.

“are you sure?”

“hurry before i change my mind,” you mumble, parting your legs once again and inviting him to get closer. wonwoo scrambles to grab his glasses off of his bedside table and slides them on before repositioning himself in between your legs.

his cock is achingly hard—has been since he started eating you out—and waiting to be enveloped by you. wonwoo isn’t sure he’ll last that long without a condom, but you look worn out enough that he thinks you probably won’t mind.

grabbing the base of his dick, wonwoo lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes his way in. you let out a sharp gasp, propping yourself up on your shoulders to watch him push inside of you. “fuck, y/n,” he grunts, willing himself to keep his composure. “you feel that?”

“yea,” your voice cracks when you say it, body flushing with heat. you can feel every ridge, every vein, and every curve much more fully than you ever have. you are already worked up from wonwoo alone, but you feel as though it won’t take much to get you off again, not when you are experiencing this new sensation so wholly.

wonwoo grunts his way inside of you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he pushes in until he can’t go any further, and holds himself inside of you for a second. your cunt pulses around him like it’s trying to pull him in further. “god, you feel good,” he groans, his head dropping down to his chest. his gaze falls on where he’s buried inside of you, where he fits in you like you were designed for him. “fuck.” he whispers.

you suck in a breath when he pulls out, and whimper when he pushes back inside. he finds a rhythm and you get lost watching him disappear inside of you, and then reappear. he doesn’t go fast, nor does he fuck you nice and slow. it’s in the middle, taking you right to the edge and giving you some time to recover. “unh- wonwoo,” you moan, falling flat on your back.

“yeah?”

you lick your lips, feeling a little embarrassed when you say, “i want a kiss.” it feels too intimate for your relationship, but so does him fucking you raw. you were never one to think too deeply about soul ties when it came to sex, but now you’re not so sure it was all junk.

wonwoo is quick to capture your lips in a kiss, one hand on you hip and the other planted near your head on the bed. you grip onto his sides as you kiss him back, mouth falling open to whine out his name. with every thrust inside of you, coupled with his chest pressed against your own and his mouth on yours, you feel closer and closer to the edge. he can tell with the your cunt squeezes him in tightly, and how your lips are pressed against his own that you’re close.

“yeah? you’re close?” he asks, kissing the corner of your lip and dragging his mouth down to your jaw, sucking a mark into the skin at your neck.

“s-so close,” you gasp out, whining when he pulls his mouth off of your neck and plants both of his hands on the bed. the need to be close to him washes over you, burns in your chest and your stomach and spreads down to your toes.his next thrust into you knocks the breath from your lungs. he grunts each time he moves inside of you, curses falling from both of your lips.

there’s nothing simple or casual, or friendly about what the two of you are doing. it’s all too intimate and is definitely going to complicate things later. he’s not somebody who wants to be attached to another person, not right now at least, but it feels like maybe he does. he looks down at you with an expression that makes you feel too much all at once, things that you’re not supposed to feel for a guy you’re just sleeping with.

you’re overcome with with feeling needy, nearly whining in frustration at the thought. you grab onto his wrist, trying to pull his hand from the bed and into your palm. “w-what?” he groans, looking down at you before sliding his gaze to where you have a hold on him. the corner of his lip quirks when you make grabby hands at him. “oh.” he says simply, interlocking your fingers together.

your orgasm hits your without warning, washing over you much more intensely than your last one. you’re chanting his name as your cunt spasms and your legs shake. “ah!” you moan, back arching off the bed and your chest pressing up into his.

liquid runs down your thighs and drips down onto the sheets below. wonwoo pants, his cock twitching inside of you. reluctantly, he pulls out with some difficulty because of how tight your cunt is around him, and shoots his cum onto your stomach, painting you white.

“fuck, sorry,” wonwoo rasps, placing a quick kiss on your lips. he’s never liked how it felt cumming on you, rather than inside of a condom or in your mouth. it felt rude, and a little demeaning, and it was never going to be his first option when it came to dumping his load. “i’ll grab a towel.”

you hardly register his cum on you until he’s wiping the inside of your thighs and then your stomach. your eyelids are heavy and can hardly stay open, fluttering shut every second before reopening when he touches you. “thanks,” you murmur, voice laden with sleep. wonwoo chuckles and says ‘you’re welcome’, but you’re too far gone to hear him.

when you wake up, it’s a couple hours later and you’re by yourself in his bed still bare. the tv is off, as well as the lights, so it’s pitch black save for the sunset shining through his window. you sit up and wince, a type of soreness between your thighs.

you slip out of his bed and find your discarded clothes and pull them on. standing in the middle of the room, you place your hands on your hips and sigh. a thousand emotions and questions are swimming through your head—confusion and what does this all mean? leading the pack. the empty, discarded box of condoms sits on his dresser like a trophy for what you two just did. you rub your forehead and gnaw on your bottom lip.

with a sigh, you grab the rest of your belongings and shove them into the tote bag you brought over and make your way out of his bedroom and down the hall. noise comes from the kitchen where wonwoo rifles through his nearly empty cupboards. “hey,” you say, making him jump and whip around.

“holy shit, hey,” he says, a hand over his heart. “you scared the shit out of me.”

“sorry,” you say, one of your hands holding onto your wrist.

“how’d you sleep?” he asks, shutting the cupboard and leaning against the counter, his arms crossing over his broad chest. his hair is still rumpled from earlier, though it looks like he just woke up from a nap as well.

“fine, i guess,” you say. he nods awkwardly and you dodge his eye contact.

“that’s good; i just woke up from a nap too,” he says. you look over at him with furrowed eyebrows, because he wasn’t in the bed with you. “i fell asleep on the couch.” wonwoo adds, like he just read your mind.

you nod and purse your lips. “you could’ve slept in your bed,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“didn’t want to bother you.”

“it’s your bed.”

“you’re my guest,” he says, seemingly ending the debate. guest. that’s all you are to him—a guest. a guest in his bed, his house, his life—a guest. not permanent, just passing through for a moment.

it’s quiet for a moment. you don’t know what to say to him. “alright, well i’ll get out of you way,” you say, running a hand over your head before some hair behind your ear.

“you’re not in my way,” wonwoo says, pushing himself off the counter when you make a move to leave. “you don’t have to leave.”

“i should,” you reply, walking quickly to the door to put on your shoes. wonwoo is right behind you, right on your trail. you shove your feet into your sneakers and ignore wonwoos presence behind you.

stealing a quick glance over your shoulder, you’re met with a hard expression from wonwoo. his eyes are squinted behind his lenses and his jaw is tight, like he’s trying to figure you out. it sends a chill down your back and you turn away from him and slip out of the front door wordlessly, without a chance to hear him say goodbye.

three days go by before you see wonwoo again. he texts you first, sending you a come over text at 9:30 on a thursday. you almost ignored it, unsure of yourself, but your feelings for him got the best of you and you immediately texted back an omw and got in your car.

currently, his hands are skating underneath your shirt and up your sides to rest underneath your breasts. you grind on his lap, hands threading in his hair. your lack of communication with him was to see if you could get over how you felt about him, to see if you could withstand him and his charm. but clearly, you can’t.

you pull back from his mouth to let him pull off your top. you’re leaning back into him when he stops you by putting his hand on your abdomen. “can we talk?” he asks, voice a little breathless.

“about?” you connect your lips to his neck, sucking a purposeful hickey into his skin when his hands skate up your back and stop short of the clasp for your bra.

“about us.”

major bomb drop. you freeze against him, your hands stilling in his hair and your lips losing their suction around his neck. your heart hammers in your chest, and you wonder if he can feel it with how close your two are pressed against each other.

never would you ever think that he’d be the one to bring up the topic of you two. you didn’t even expect him to reach out to you first—you’re surprised that you didn’t crack after the first day—and you definitely didn’t expect him to see a problem with your relationship. pulling back, you place your hands on his shoulders and peer down at him. “what is there to talk about?”

wonwoo literally bites his tongue, the words ‘i miss you’ sitting on the tip. “did i take it too far the other day?” he questions, referring to asking to fuck you without a condom. you roll your eyes and get off of his lap, grabbing your shirt off of the floor.

“no,” you say, yanking it over your head. “i fully agreed to it, wonwoo. if i didn’t want to do it, i would have said no.” you say, blowing some hair out of your face. you don’t know why you feel so frustrated all of a sudden.

“then what is it?” he asks, feeling like he’s grasping for straws trying not to expose how he feels about you.

“what is what?”

wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. he feels you staring, waiting for him to expose whatever he feels like he can’t say to you. “can i be honest with you?”

“please.”

he sucks in a breath before he starts. “im starting to really like you. well, ive liked you for awhile, actually. and i know you probably don’t wan to hear this, because i know you just want to keep it casual, and- wait,” you interrupt him, your nerves feeling like they’re working in overdrive. “what?”

you drag a hand down your face. “i thought you wanted to keep it casual,” you say, hand curling over your mouth when he slowly shakes his head.

“no, that was you,” he says, but his tone is unsure now that you’ve counteracted him. “right?”

“only because you said it first,” you say, and the gears start to turn into place for the both of you. your little arrangement wasn’t mutually understood—more like it was mutually misunderstood—and the other was just going along with what was said, just for the sake of the other person. “wonwoo, you said you didn’t want any strings.”

he cringes when you say it out loud. “true, but that was before,” wonwoo clarifies. you furrow your eyebrows.

“before when?”

his cheeks turn a cute shade of pink and he adjusts his glasses. “before we hung out for the second time,” it’s embarrassing admitting it out loud, but it’s the truth. when the two of you started sleeping together, he meant it when he said that he didn’t want to be tied down. but after you two hung out again, and the ‘friends’ part of friends-with-benefits showed itself, he knew he was a goner. you made him laugh so easily, and made him feel like he could be himself around you. it wasn’t long until he started missing your presence and was mourning your absences.

you stare at him in complete shock. “are you serious?” he nods, and you let out slight chuckle, lightly shaking your head. “there’s no way.” you mutter to yourself. wonwoo tenses, waiting for the blow of you telling him that you don’t feel the same.

“if you don’t feel the same, it’s fine,” wonwoo says quickly, wiping around his mouth to give his hands something to do. you shake your head just as fast, eyes wide.

“no! i mean, i do, wonwoo. i like you too—a lot—i just…” you trail off and run a hand through your hair unsteadily.

“you just what?”

you shrug. “i don’t know, actually,” you giggle. wonwoo smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. you notice and take a seat next to him on the couch, angling your body towards him. “wonwoo, you’re great. the sex is great, everything is great. but i do want more with you. i like you so much, it was starting to hurt,” you say, not caring about how pathetic he might think you sound. you get the feeling that he doesn’t care how you sound, because he tugs you into his lap again, his arms securing around your waist.

“i want more with you too. and im pretty sure i like you way more than you like me,” he says, a smile on his face.

“mhm. whatever,” you say, running a hand over his hair just like you did the other day. wonwoos eyes flutter shut and you drag your hand down to rest on his cheek. “hey.” you murmur.

“what?”

“thank you.”

“for what?”

you shrug and lightly stroke his cheek. “just, thank you.”

[yaeverse]

Dinner Date | j.ww

pairing: class president! wonwoo x playgirl!reader

summary: going on a date with your class president who actually have had a secret crush on you for a while

warnings: slight nsfw, fluff, a few wet kisses

a/n: helloo nyxies, i'm still new to writing so deepest apologies if there some grammatical errors found in my fanfic. anyways, enjoyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could say you were hell ass surprised when he asked you out to dinner after winning the school art competition. Your class president, Jeon Wonwoo, also known as the campus heartthrob had a secret crush on you for sometime now. The man was undeniably handsome, hot, smart and basically a walking wet dream that had every girl or boy drooling over him

Walking and pacing around your room, figuring out on what to wear, making sure to not look like you're whoring yourself on your first date with Wonwoo, your mind brings you back to the moment he asked you out.

(flashback)

"y/n, will you go on a date with me..?" he asks as he looks at you with a stoic face. Wonwoo actually had this all planned in his head but things didn't really go as well as he thought it would, "I'll pick you up later at seven.." he continues, leaving no space for rejection.

(end of flashback)

"Dammit, Jeon Wonwoo.. you got me nervous over a date.." you sigh, deciding on wearing a turtleneck croptop partnered with a skirt. Yeah, you've had your past relationships and flings, but oh damn, did Wonwoo got you this nervous.

Hearing your phone ring, you immediately sat up answering the call.

"Hey.." you said,

"I'm outside.." he says in a husky voice, sending shivers down your spine,

"Alright, I'm heading out.."

This was absolutely the very first moment of you being nervous of stepping out your apartment. I mean, we are talking of Jeon Wonwoo, who wouldn't be nervous.

Stepping out your door, your eyes meet Wonwoo's gaze as he stands awestruck at your beauty.

"You look.." he stutters, "beautiful, y/n.."

"oh hey, we're twinning!" you smile excitingly at the adorable coincident

He stares at you, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. You had quite a reputation around campus, 'Playgirl Y/N', but couldn't care less. He just saw you for who you are.

The drive was comfortably quiet. Exchanging a few glances and questions to lift the awkward tension.

"so, congrats on winning earlier.." he says, glancing in your direction,

"thanks" you smiled back, "i never thought i'd win, i messed up a few paints due to nervousness.."

"what are you talking about?" he lightly chuckles, turning the steering wheel as he talks with you, "yours was the best one there, so of course you'd win.."

You can't help but smile at his words. "thank you, wonwoo.."

After a few minutes drive, you two finally arrive.

"We're here" he says, stepping out of the driver's seat to open your door

You can't help but your eyes widen and mouth drop in agape at how beautiful, and to say expensive the place looks. He really went all out for a first date, and you think you don't deserve this kind of treatment.

"Let's go..?" he asks, guiding you by your waist, "don't be nervous, y/n, be yourself.."

"Y-you didn't really have to do all this..." you look up to meet his gaze

"Well, I wanted to"

Dinner was mostly filled with a few exchanged talks and warm conversations. Getting to know each other, and finding a few interesting facts that none of the two of you thought to be possibly real.

Spending time and getting to know him made you realize that he is everything you could ask for a guy. After having failed relationships, and jumping from one guy to another, you finally conclude that Jeon Wonwoo is YOUR TYPE OF MAN. You now can see why almost everyone in campus say the he's the perfect ideal boyfriend a girl can ever ask. He's a complete gentleman, smart, handsome, hot, a walking wet dream, like everything. You just know that after this date, you will never be the same. You could already feel the effects this guy has over you.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, y/n?" he asks,

"Of course, I did," you smile, as you took out your wallet "Oh- I can pay the dinner-"

"You're not paying dinner, princess," he chuckled, gently pushing your hand back to yourself, "I already payed anyways.."

"Y-you're too much, won.." you smile warmly at him,

"Nothing's too much, y/n," he smiles back, "You ready to go home..?"

You nod and as a gentleman he is, he escorts you outside, holding your waist. The warmth of his palm on your waist was enough to send butterflies bursting to your stomach, making your heartbeat crazy.

"So, uh, this is goodnight i guess.." he mumbles as he walks you to your door, "good night, y/n..."

"wait-" you pause, realizing what you just said

"yes..?" he immediately looked back, giving you all his attention

he walks closer to you, leaning in as he sees your eyes laid on his lips, making him chuckle.

"my eyes are up here, princess.." he smirked, "may i..?"

No words came out but you just nodded. He slowly leans in. Your heart beats in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours.

But, oh damn, was he soft like feather.

You tensed up feeling his lips on yours. 'Get a grip, y/n, it's not like it's your first time kissing someone' you mentally scold yourself. You then feel his hand settle on your waist as the other settles behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You two pause for a moment to catch your breaths as he rested his forehead on yours. You smiled, and you know he's smiling as well. He then leans in again with more affection.

"Mmhh.." you hear him moan to the kiss as he swiftly licks your lower lip, begging to get in. With pleasure, you open your lips partly and he slide his tongue in immediately.

You two get lost in the moment, feeling waves of pleasure and adrenaline rush through every inch of your body at the sensation of his tongue dancing with yours. His hand grip your neck a bit tighter as he pulls you closer to give him more access inside your mouth as he makes out with you.

The kiss slowly calms down as you two pull back, gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other.

"We're going for a second date then..?" he asks with a light chuckle, his thumb caressing your waist,

"You're a good kisser, by the way.." you laugh, "And yes, a second date would be fucking great.."

He pecks your lips as he replies, "Next time, you'll receive more than a kiss, princess.."

Your face becomes a blushing mess as he smirked at your reaction

"W-Wonwoo...!" you whine playfully as you hit his chest,

"God, I'll make you scream my name next time.." he smirked, chuckling in a low tone,

"See you around, princess..." he greets you goodbye as he drives his car away

You just know that there'll be no more next guy after Wonwoo.

And you just know that in the next date, you'll end up being unable to walk

[seungcheorry]

cherrytober ❤️🍒: day 06 - jeon wonwoo

wonwoo + cleaning your glasses;

wonwoo has quiet ways to show his love for his loved ones, and you got that pretty early on in the relationship.

the way he shyly holds your hand as you're talking to jihoon about something shows you that, once again. he doesn't need to say much, he doesn't need to scream at the top of his lungs - just his presence, alone, makes you feel loved.

as jihoon replies to you, wonwoo notices the way you frown a bit, eyes trying to focus on your mutual friend. he cocks his head, chuckling to himself once he gets it the reason of your frown.

"but i do think it's important to try that, at least once", jihoon says as you nod. wonwoo isn't actually paying attention to the conversation.

he reaches for your glasses, taking it off your face in a soft, sweet motion. you answer jihoon, but the corner of your lips lifts up in a grin when you notice how he's not looking at you now, but at wonwoo - wonwoo, who is cleaning your glasses on the fabric of his shirt.

it takes just a few seconds for him to turn back to you, ready to put your glasses back on your face. your hand stops him mid-action, grabbing your glasses yourself.

"thank you", you say to him.

"no problem", wonwoo smiles, his features softening as you look back at jihoon, seeing him crystal clear now.

"ugh, you guys are sickening."

[beomboomboom]

Carrying your Love

genre: fluff, fwb to lovers, drunken confession

pairing: Wonwoo x reader

summary: What's harder, carrying a drunk Wonwoo home, or carrying your love for him that you know he'll never reciprocate (or will he?).

warnings: mentions of drinking and alcohol, a little bit of swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive

note: Not me staying up until 2 am to finish this fic- 😭. This fic is part of an ask for drunken confession fics. Enjoy reading <33

Wonwoo has carried you more times than you can count.

From carrying you because you complained about your feet being tired, to carrying you to the bedroom after seeing you in a tight fitting dress that made his mind go into shambles.

But you never would've expected the roles to be switched.

"Wonwoo," You mutter, only to let out a groan in disappointment when you realize he's completely knocked out. "C'mon, wake up please. I don't want to have to drag you all the way to your house."

Wonwoo had asked you to go with him to Mingyu's birthday party. But you, knowing how most of his parties ended in everyone completely wasted, opted out because of your doctors appointment the next day.

Plus, you knew how getting drunk with Wonwoo at a party would often end in fucking in the bedroom, and to say your feelings about that have been complicated as of late would be an understatement. Yes, at first getting to release all your sexual desires while also having a friend seemed like a win-win situation. But you couldn't tell why you wanted to be more than that now, more than friends who fuck.

Ironically, you ended up going to Mingyu's party anyway. Not to party, but to bring Wonwoo's drunk ass home.

"Wonwoo," you repeat while shaking his shoulders, trying to wake him up so that he could walk on his own. "Wonwoo, wake up."

Sighing, you admit defeat and begin to hoist Wonwoo's legs around your waist so that you could piggyback him.

And no amount of weightlifting and going to the gym could have prepared you for the moment you started walking with a 139-pound man on your back. With each step you took, it felt like it would be your last.

But somehow, you miraculously made it to Wonwoo's house. Panting and breathless, but alive nonetheless.

"You better repay me for that," you mutter in between gasps of air as you drop Wonwoo onto his couch.

As you're grabbing a drink of water in the kitchen, you can hear Wonwoo as he slowly stirs awake. "ugh...," you hear him groan from the kitchen.

"Do you want me to take you to your room?" You ask, concerned when you see Wonwoo try to stand up, only to fall back on his butt.

Replying in a quiet nod, you go over to Wonwoo's side to help him. As you wrap his arms around your neck and piggyback Wonwoo once again, you can't help but notice how intimate the whole thing feels.

Wonwoo's chest pressed right against your back, his head resting on your shoulder, the small breaths he lets out as you enter his room. Suddenly, you feel Wonwoo lift his head from your shoulder to whisper in your ear. "I...I think I love you."

Shocked, you freeze in place. But something about stopping seems to cause your limbs to lose their strength, and before you know it Wonwoo is on the floor and groaning in pain.

"Ohmygosh, I'm so sorry Wonwoo. I was just so shocked-," You ramble, panicked as you try to make sure Wonwoo isn't hurt at all. "I really didn't mean-" You start to ramble again, before being interrupted by Wonwoo's soft lips on yours.

"It's okay, let's just go to bed. My head hurts so much," Wonwoo says as he tries to stand up, only to fall again on his butt.

"Here let me help you," you offer as you help Wonwoo stand up before leading him to his bed. Tucking him in, you let out a fond smile and give him a peck on the forehead. "Let's talk about your confession tomorrow when you're sober, okay?"

As you turn to leave you feel an arm shoot out to tug you back to the bed.

"Stay. Stay with me tonight."

[daisymbin]

cuddles and... forever plans? - jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

a/n: reqs works are scheduled up!! will start tmr!!!! or later today for u if we have different timezones hh

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

wonwoo slipped his shoes off quietly, careful not to make a sound as he stepped into the apartment. the clock on the wall read 1:17am, the soft tick of its hands the only noise breaking the stillness. he set his bag down and shrugged out of his coat, the weight of the long day still clinging to him.

then, he saw you.

curled up on the sofa, wrapped messily in the familiar blanket he’d seen you use a thousand times, you looked so peaceful. the lamp beside you cast a warm glow, highlighting the delicate curve of your face and the way your chest rose and fell with each steady breath. his heart ached and swelled at the same time.

you’d fallen asleep waiting for him. again.

“everyday you remind me again, just how beautiful you are,” he whispered under his breath, though the sentiment lingered, heavy and unspoken.

he crouched beside the sofa, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. guilt gnawed at him—he hated coming home so late, hated making you wait and always told you not to, but there you were, patient even in your sleep, as if to remind him you’d always be there.

he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against your temple. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

he stood reluctantly, opting for a quick shower first. the warm water offered some reprieve, but his thoughts were filled with you. the way you’d stayed up, even though you didn’t have to. the way you always did.

when he returned, you were still asleep. he smiled to himself, shaking his head fondly as he crossed the room. kneeling down, he slipped his arms under you;one beneath your knees, the other around your shoulders and lifted you carefully.

you stirred slightly, instinctively leaning into his chest, seeking his warmth, your face pressed against his neck. he held you closer, the scent of your shampoo lingering faintly in the air.

“you make it so hard not to love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

the walk to the bedroom felt longer than usual, each step measured and deliberate; making sure not to wake you. when he finally laid you down, your body sank into the mattress, your head resting gently against the pillow.

just as he was about to pull away, your eyes fluttered open, your gaze unfocused but warm. “wonwoo?” you murmured, your voice soft and laced with sleep.

he smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “go back to sleep, angel. i’m home.”

you reached out, your fingers brushing against his wrist before curling around it.

he climbed into bed beside you, his arm draping over your waist as you settled against him. the room was quiet, save for the soft hum of your breathing. he tried to close his eyes, to let the exhaustion take over, but he couldn’t.

his gaze drifted to you, tracing the delicate curve of your cheek, the way your lips parted slightly as you exhaled. his fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, to memorize every inch of you with his touch.

you shifted slightly, your voice heavy with sleep. “why aren’t you sleeping?”

he froze, caught. “i... i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” you asked, your eyes still closed but your voice tinged with curiosity.

he hesitated. how could he put it into words? how could he explain the way tonight had made him realize just how much he wanted you in his life—forever?

he swallowed hard, his heart pounding. the words were stuck in his throat, a mix of fear and hope swirling in his chest. “can i ask you something?”

you shifted slightly, turning your head toward him. hmm, you hummed.

his fingers brushed against your arm, his touch tentative. “can i... can i watch you sleep tonight? and every night after for the rest of our lives?”

the silence that followed was deafening. his chest tightened, panic bubbling up as the seconds stretched on.

“not now! i mean, someday. i’m not asking you right this second. unless you want me to? but no, i mean—just for the future. for reference? you know, like... just to know where you stand on it?” his words spilled out in a nervous rush, his usual calm and collected demeanor nowhere to be found.

then, you laughed. soft and sweet, the sound eased the tension in his chest

“wonwoo,” you murmured, your voice warm and full of affection. your hand reached out, finding his and squeezing gently. “you don’t need to panic. the answer is yes.”

his breath caught. “yes?”

“yes,” you repeated, opening your eyes to meet his. they were still heavy with sleep, but the love in them was unmistakable. “yes for now, yes for the future. no references needed.”

his lips parted, his heart pounding as the weight of your words sank in. he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

you smiled, your hand finding its way to his cheek. “stop thanking me and go to sleep, wonwoo.”

he chuckled softly, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. “okay,” he murmured, his voice tinged with relief and joy.

as your breathing evened out again, he closed his eyes, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been before. because now, he wasn’t just holding you for tonight—he was holding a promise. a future. a forever.

[wonwoosstuff]

wonwoo x f.reader; just them having a sexy time as a couple (established relationship); 18+

“Hm, you like that don’t you, sweetheart?” you whispered seductively in your boyfriend’s ear, gently cupping his face with your hands.

The two of you do not even remember how you’ve gotten to this point. Somehow you’re suddenly sitting on Wonwoo’s lap straddling him on your soft couch.

Tonight was one of those nights where Wonwoo planed on taking things slow. The mood of the living room— with having no lights on besides the couch lamp that illuminated the two of you— took the romantic atmosphere to another level.

Simultaneously the opened window blew a soft but cooling night breeze into the room causing you to shiver. The slow make out session was interrupted by your complaint:

“Wonu~can we please close the window? It’s really cold in here.”

A brief moment of silence. You looked at him with confusion.

“Wonwoo?”

“Let’s get you warmed up then.” He answered unhinged. Yet, these simple words created a mess of butterflies in your stomach.

Your boyfriend swiftly grabbed your waist and laid you softly down on the couch facing you contemporaneously. You drooled over the way he took off his shirt rapidly, then taking off his glasses to exempt you from getting hurt. The sight of a shirtless, well-built and shoulder-rich Wonwoo made your jaw slightly drop. Something about his movements were just so— breathtaking and sexy— even if these are considered normal in society.

You quickly looked away from him not expecting him to grab your jaw to make you face him directly.

“I want you to focus on me, love.” His fox-like gaze pierced through you. Wonwoo made sure that your eyes were not leaving his. Keeping eye contact during sexual intercourse was his one and only priority.

“Ugh, I can’t do this. You’re j-just so—“

“So?” He raised his eyebrow curiously.

“So intimidating and sexy” the last part of your sentence was mumbled however your boyfriend still heard it. Wonwoo’s reaction to your little confession was a smile followed by a deep chuckle. “Cute” was the last comment that he left on your shameless confession before connecting your lips with his.

The man continued to kiss you passionately as he put his arms steadily next to your head to support his weight. Wonwoo practically caged you into his trap. Nobody would even think that you were lying under him— that’s how wide his shoulders reached.

He began making his way slowly to your chest pulling your Tshirt up to reveal a better view of your breasts. To be more frank, all you had on were panties. Walking around with a bra was in fact very uncomfortable.

“I can’t believe you’re all mine, love.” He admired while pecking your cleavage.

“Baby?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you not going to take my shirt off?” You asked while looking up your boyfriend.

Wonwoo left a smooch on your belly button and answered: “Later, babe, later.”

You nodded and were curious about his upcoming plans. The first part of the plan was massaging your boobs. He was utterly skilled with his fingers due to his gaming abilities. So he used them as nipple torture.

————————————————————————

Your boyfriend had your legs laying on his shoulders for the past 30 minutes. He didn’t show any mercy and pounded into your arousal senseless. To support yourself you found your way to his hands intertwining your fingers with his fingers.

Your fucked out and flushing face turned him on making him go harder on you. Keeping up with Wonwoo’s pace was difficult, almost impossible.

He had one hell of stamina.

Wonwoo hasn’t really been moaning much — unlike you— instead he preferred to keep his calm and bite his lips to focus on hitting your g-spot perfectly.

“Ugh—W-Wonwoo— I can’t do this anymore, p-please spare me.” You could barely speak to him.

All you could see was a blurry silhouette of your boyfriend— that’s how good he made you feel.

“Oh yes, princess, you can.” He implied with his deep voice while also letting go of your hands.

“You look so hot like this.” A comment he wanted to share hours ago. Now he finally said it.

Wonwoo pulled you closer by your ankles to get deeper access to your g-spot — and it worked.

“Does this make you feel good, darling?”

“Mhm, y-yes!” you replied while moaning helplessly.

Wonwoo pecking your ankles while smirking at you was your last straw. He knew it turned you on.

He knew all of your weaknesses.

However your biggest weakness was your boyfriend getting to close to you and your ear.

And today seemed like your lucky day. He still was focused on thrusting harshly into you but leaned forward to meet your gaze directly. This resulted into you looking away quickly to not meet your boyfriend’s seductive gaze.

“Will you focus on your man, hm? Trust me, you don’t want me to turn this into a punishment.” He said while grabbing your jaw once again.

You began to hold onto his shoulders since his thrusting became sloppier. Still, it was hard to keep the eye contact.

“Are you warm enough, love?” He asked softly making you smile.

©️ wonwoosstuff do not copy or translate!

[kooqitas]

#pairing: friends-dad!wonwoo x reader.

#genre: smut | #w.c: ~1500

#synopsis: it was just a ride offered by your friend's dad, what could go wrong?

#warnings: semi-public sex (car), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, agegap, spit, humiliation, overstimulation. WITHOUT DADDY KINK, THE NAME WAS JUST A JOKE!

#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language! ★ m.list | inbox 

support me on ko-fi if you want, i would be very happy :D

the moment wonwoo's car turned down the street, you regretted accepting that ride.

wonwoo is your friend's father, she's not your best friend, but you've known each other for a few months, you used to go to parties together, and this was the first time you went to her house. she always said that her father wasn't old, but wonwoo is like 15 years older than you? god, how young did he become a father? whatever, you know a hot man when you see one, and of course wonwoo is really hot.

because of the heavy rain, it was impossible to order an uber to your house, so wonwoo offered you a ride since his daughter was going to her boyfriend's house. at first you rejected it, you said you would find a way, but your friend insisted so much that it seemed rude to reject jeon's ride.

as soon as the rain stopped, wonwoo took the car out, you got in the vehicle, buckled your seat belt and regretted it instantly.

wonwoo was stupidly hot and watching him drive was driving you crazy, he smelled so good and his lips were so inviting that you didn't even realize when you started having impure thoughts about the man next to you. your friend's father.

your brain betrayed you, and you started thinking about the thick fingers that were on the steering wheel inside you, slowly opening you up to prepare for his cock. what would wonwoo's cock be like? following the logic of the proportions of his body he would probably be hot... and thick… oh, god!

"what are you thinking?" he asked you.

“w-what?”

“you are cute.” he laughed.

“oh, shut up, i’m not cute, cute is for child, i’m not a child.” you grumbled.

he laughed again, biting his own lips.

“yes, i know very well that you are not a child.”

you gasped. was wonwoo flirting with you? what the hell. no, that’s impossible, you are crazy. definitely crazy. 

“but you know... you can call me 'daddy' if you want too”

“mrs. jeon” your voice was a little shaky.

“no, sweetheart, just wonwoo. unless it's a kink for you…”

“wha- what are you d-”

wonwoo stopped the car, and only then did you realize that he wasn't even following the gps location, you were on a dark street, completely deserted, the raindrops were still falling lightly outside the car, so wonwoo faced you, firmly, making your body shake.

“i'm not gonna do anything you don't want, honey. but don't act like you're not a dirty girl who stared at me lustfully in my own house, don't pretend like you didn't look at my fingers on the steering wheel like you didn't imagine them inside you.” wonwoo said in a scoundrel tone, making you cringe, you no longer knew if it was from humiliation or lust.

“i’m-”

“you? what do you want, baby? will you deny your own desire? or are you gonna assume that you want my cock opening up that pussy, hm?”

“wonwoo…”

“what, kitten? do you want be treated with care? or i can just use you however i want? mistreat you completely, use you for my pleasure?” 

wonwoo's right hand rested on your thigh, looking at you before leaving an unchaste caress there, he laughed when you surrendered, opening your legs in anticipation of him raising his hand a little further, his warm finger in contact with your skin the cold air conditioning makes you horny.

wonwoo took off his seat belt, and slapped his thigh twice, you immediately sat there, without any kind of questioning, he laughed, the mocking laugh making you feel a little humiliated.

"don't you think you're the worst kind of whore? fucking your friend's father? you're so disgusting."

the way he spoke gave you a feeling of heat that you had never felt before, unconsciously you began to roll slowly on his lap. god, fuck any moral ethics, wonwoo was fucking hot and your cunt was starting to get wet.

“that is? does this excite you? knowing that your friend's father is gonna fuck you, will treat you like the disgusting whore you are?”

“y-yes” you moaned.

wonwoo laughed in contempt, clenching your jaw and finally kissing you, his tongue tasted like beer and even though you weren't the biggest fan of the drink you loved it, wonwoo was dominant, he led the kiss the way he wanted, sucking your tongue leaving not so light bites on your lips and it was driving you crazy.

you felt when his firm hands lowered the thin strap of your shirt, exposing your nipples and then he lightly brushed his index finger there, making you tremble in anticipation.

wonwoo continued devouring you with his mouth, the man seemed ready to destroy you with a kiss and if he continued at that pace he would easily succeed, the hot tongue curling with more and more desire in his and the kiss smacks becoming more and more wet in your mouth, his fingers making sloppy movements on your needy nipples.

you felt a hand move down from your nipple to your baggy shorts, and then a finger brushed against your panties, making you moan loudly.

“needy whore!” wonwoo laughed.

wonwoo started kissing and biting your neck, the bites hurt like hell, it would clearly leave a mark, but you were loving it, and the moans and gasps you made made it evident.

"are you gonna tell my daughter who marked that neck? are you gonna tell her that you are a desperate whore who gave your pussy to her father in the car?"

“wonwoo…”

wonwoo placed two fingers inside you, making you scream from the shock of the long fingers entering your cunt, he had no difficulty placing his fingers there, easily reaching your g-spot while still marking your neck voraciously.

"dumb bitch, do anything for cock!"

he added another finger, your eyes rolling back, your body was sweating even with the air conditioning in the car, you didn't care about anything anymore, you just wanted wonwoo inside you. he tore your shorts and laid the seat back a little further, kissing your mouth again.

“i'm gonna to fill this pussy up, you'll go home dripping with my cum like a good toy!”

wonwoo removed his fingers from inside you, putting them in his mouth and sucking out every drop of your liquid, and then removed his belt, lowering his pants and underwear right after.

his purple cock made you salivate, at the same time it scared you, you didn't imagine it would be so fat, it terrified you and made you even more horny, every inch of you would receive wonwoo's dick, he would open you up like no one had ever done before .

"you're gonna take my dick like a good slut, aren't you? i'm gonna be able to spread you wide open and you're gonna thank me, right?"

you nodded, and in the next second, wonwoo was entering you.

at first he was gentle, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit until you got used to his size, but a few minutes later wonwoo was thrusting into you like crazy and moaning like an animal.

"i knew that whore's pussy was gonna open wide for my cock!”

he said as he mistreated your pussy with strong thrusts, you didn't think about anything else, you didn't think about the fact that he was your friend's father, you didn't think about the fact that you were on a deserted street, you couldn't think about anything other than how good it was the feeling of having wonwoo hitting your uterus hard.

he grabbed your waist and made you bounce on him, his firm hand pushing you up and down on his fat cock while your belly tingled.

"god, i’m gonna-"

"cum on my dick, whore, cum because i’m gonna cum inside you, i’m gonna fill that pussy with my sperm."

wonwoo laughed in a machiavellian way, and then spat in your mouth, forcing two fingers down your throat, you accepted them, sucked as if it were wonwoo's own cock while facing him, feeling the lust growing in your belly growing more and more.

when he wiped his fingers of saliva on your hardened nipple, you came, screaming so loud that, even though you were on the deserted street, you were still afraid that other people would hear.

when your body started to shake, wonwoo seemed more motivated to destroy you, and continued thrusting against your pussy.

"my freaky bitch only stops when i decide it's over?" he questions seeing that you just accepted his rough pace. "i like it! my daughter has the best friend in the world!"

wonwoo thrust you a few more times, until he came apart inside you, moaning loudly and throwing his head back, your insides becoming completely sticky with your friend's father's sperm.

you still moved, sensitive from the orgasm, but still rubbing against the cock that wasn't completely softened, you wanted more, he wanted more.

fuck any morals, you needed to enjoy the rest of the night together...

and it was with this in mind that wonwoo searched on the gps where the nearest motel was.