#jeon Wonwoo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletwinterxx · 4 days ago

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in his orbit - jeon wonwoo imagine

girlie is back with another fic, can you tell i love writing slowburns? in case it wasn't obvious yet i love writing slowburn fics😅🤣 buckle up you're about to fall inlove (i mean i did so maybe you will too)🫠🤭

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(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You stand just behind the sleek glass walls of the boardroom, the hum of tense conversation vibrating through the air like static. The executives are already seated, each with their tablets, papers, and rehearsed reports all waiting for the same thing.

For him.

The door opens precisely at nine.

Jeon Wonwoo enters the room. His tailored black suit fits with surgical precision, every line sharp enough to draw blood. He doesn’t greet anyone, doesn’t have to. He simply walks to the head of the table, sets down his folder, and looks up.

Conversation dies mid-sentence.

You follow behind him, your steps two beats behind, practiced and measured. By the time he sits, you're already at your place beside the wall, tablet in hand. You don’t need to ask. He hasn’t even looked your way, but you know the exact schedule, the order of presentations, and judging by the faint twitch in his jaw, he’s already displeased.

Someone’s stalling.

“Begin,” he says, voice like cut glass.

The CFO starts talking, fumbling slightly under the weight of Wonwoo’s attention. He doesn’t yell. He never does. But his silence is worse than shouting. Midway through a shaky statistic, Wonwoo shifts in his chair.

Your cue.

You tap into the live data feed from the financial team. A graph updates in real time, and you cast it to the screen before anyone even notices the CFO is behind. Wonwoo doesn’t glance your way, but he no longer drums his fingers against the table.

Success.

It’s been three years since you started working for him. You remember the exact moment he stepped into this role . Barely older than some interns, yet the air seemed to lock in place around him. Most people are shaped by power. Not Jeon Wonwoo. He wears it like skin.

The meeting wraps with a sharp, clipped nod from him. No formal dismissal. Just the subtle scrape of his chair against the floor and that’s enough. Everyone starts packing up in a flurry, heads ducked, voices low.

Wonwoo stands.

So do you.

You’re already a step behind him, speaking low enough that only he hears. “You’ll need a summary of the revised Q3 forecasts from finance, I’ll have the file before lunch. The director of marketing rescheduled her one-on-one for Thursday at nine, I moved your investor call accordingly. Legal flagged two issues in the new vendor contracts. I’ll highlight them in your next review.”

He doesn’t answer. He never does when you run through his day unless you miss something.

You never miss.

You match his pace effortlessly as he strides down the hall, nodding once to the intern who nearly drops their tablet scrambling to open the elevator. Once inside, the doors close, sealing the two of you in silence. The mirrored walls catch the cold gleam in his eyes, unreadable as always.

You speak again, tone measured. “Lunch with Chairman Ryu at twelve. The chef from Verité confirmed your usual. Security’s updated on the venue change.”

His gaze shifts not quite to you, but close. “What about the Shanghai brief?”

“It’s on your desk. Summarized, annotated, with the risk assessment.”

He gives the barest of nods. But what most people don’t realize is that he doesn’t waste words when silence will do. That’s where you learned to read him.

The elevator dings open. He walks. You follow.

You’ve been in his orbit long enough to know every little thing about him. You knock once and when there’s no response, you step in anyway. He expects it.

Wonwoo’s at his desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie slightly loosened. His glasses rest low on the bridge of his nose as he flips through a thick report, one hand turning pages while the other taps a pen against the wood.

You walk in without pause, tablet in hand, your steps soft against the expensive flooring. “You’ll want to look at the shareholder report before your dinner with Chairman Ryu,” you say, placing the file on the edge of his desk you already know how he likes things arranged.

“There’s a discrepancy in the voting record. I flagged it.”

“You read the full report already?”

You nod once. “Twice. Once for detail, again for tone.”

That gets his attention. Slowly, he lifts his head. The weight of his stare lands heavy, but you’re used to it by now. That sharp gaze that makes board members stutter and interns nearly cry — you’ve seen it a thousand times.

“Do you want a printed version for the meeting?”

“No.” He leans back, the leather creaking faintly. “Just the highlights.”

Already done. You offer the printed brief without a word. He takes it, brushes your fingers as he does. A light touch. Accidental. Maybe.

He doesn’t apologize. Neither do you.

The silence stretches as he skims the top page, glasses catching the light. You watch the slight tightening in his jaw a sign only you would notice. He’s annoyed. Probably with the numbers. Or the people behind them.

You shift your weight. “I can delay the Chairman by twenty minutes if you want more prep time.”

He exhales through his nose, sets the brief down. “No. He can wait if I’m not done.”

Of course. You should’ve known. Jeon Wonwoo doesn’t adjust for anyone. The world adjusts for him.

You nod once and turn to go, but his voice stops you.

It’s sometime after two when your phone buzzes with a simple message from him.

JWW: Come in.

When you step into his office, he’s seated behind his desk, sleeves rolled up again, reading glasses pushed onto his face.

“You need something?” you ask, tablet in hand, thumb already hovering over the agenda notes.

“Sit.”

The small table near the window. Two covered trays. Bottled water. A fresh set of chopsticks laid out neatly beside each plate.

Your brows lift before you can catch the reaction. “You—”

“You didn’t eat.” He doesn’t say it with concern, not exactly. Just fact. Like he’s stating a poor business decision you made, and he’s correcting it. “Neither did I.”

Wonwoo finally removes his glasses, setting them down with a soft click. “Eat. We have fifteen minutes before the next briefing.”

You hesitate only a second longer, then get up and walk toward the table. You sit, open the tray. your usual. Exactly how you like it.

He joins you, pulling out the chair beside yours without a word. You both eat without rushing. The only sounds are the quiet clink of chopsticks.

Halfway through, he speaks without looking up. “You need to stop skipping meals.”

You give a soft huff. “You’re one to talk. If I start eating regularly, I expect it’ll be written into my contract.”

Wonwoo’s reply is smooth, almost quiet. “I’ll have legal draft the clause.”

You look at him. He’s already resumed eating, expression calm. As if this is just another business item on his to-do list. But it’s not.

You feel it in the small things. The way he ordered for you. The exact meal. The timing.

You eat in silence but the air between you is no longer just charged. It’s laced with something else now.

Something like care.

You steal a glance at him between bites sleeves still rolled, tie loosened, It’s the most unpolished version of him anyone ever sees. Just you.

And maybe that’s why you risk it.

“You know,” you say, tone casual as you pluck a piece of radish from the tray, “you keep telling me to take care of myself, but I’ve seen your calendar. You’ve had four hours of sleep in the past two days. That’s not impressive. That’s a health hazard.”

“You��re lecturing me now?”

“Not lecturing, lightly nagging. There’s a difference.”

His brow lifts. The corner of his mouth quirks so faintly, you almost miss it.

You press on. “You always tell people to be efficient, but you’re running yourself into the ground. I’ve seen cyborgs take more breaks.”

“I function fine.”

You snort. “You’re functioning on caffeine and willpower. That’s not a personality, it’s a warning sign.”

He leans back, arms crossing, watching you now with more amusement than reprimand. “You’re getting bold.”

“I’ve earned it,” you say, popping the last bite into your mouth. “Three years of anticipating your every micro-expression buys me at least five minutes of sass.”

“Four minutes,” he says, deadpan.

You grin. “You’re soft.”

His eyes narrow. “Careful.”

“See?” you say, standing to clear the trays, “That right there? That’s the face you make when you're trying not to smile.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You’re not not smiling.”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head once. But the curve of his lips betrays him just a little. As you gather the empty containers, you glance at him over your shoulder.

“You should nap after your 3 p.m. I’ll move the export briefing.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

You give him a bright, unapologetic look. “Nagging clause. Already in the contract, remember?”

He says nothing, just watches you again with that same unreadable gaze. But this time, the weight of it doesn’t feel like pressure.

It feels like gravity.

It’s late. Most of the lights on the executive floor are off.

Except his.

You’d just finished clearing the last round of emails, already mentally sorting through tomorrow’s prep, when your phone buzzed.

JWW: Come in.

You enter his office without hesitation. You’re about to ask what he needs when he speaks first.

He doesn’t look at you. Just nods toward the small sofa across the room.

“On the couch.”

You follow his line of sight. There’s a paper bag sitting there. Neatly folded at the top. No logo, no tag. Just unassuming and out of place in the otherwise sterile precision of his office.

You walk over, eyebrows pulling together. “What is—”

Your voice fades when you open it. Inside, nestled in soft protective paper, is the bag. The one you’d joked about for months half-teasing, half-dreaming. The limited edition one that sold out in hours. The one with a price tag so high, you always added, “That’s my endgame motivation. When I can afford this, I’ve made it.”

You reach in slowly, fingertips brushing over the material like you’re afraid it’ll vanish.

Then you turn, eyes wide. “This is—how did you—”

Wonwoo finally looks at you. His expression is unreadable, as always, but his gaze is steady. “You kept saying it was your motivation, Consider it... early congratulations.”

Your heart stumbles. “Wonwoo, this bag is—it's not just expensive, it’s impossible to find. There’s a waitlist.”

He doesn’t reply. Just leans back in his chair like he’s already decided the conversation is over.

“You were listening,” you say, quieter now. Not accusatory. Just stunned.

“I always listen.”

You blink, still holding the bag in your hands, overwhelmed with the weight of it—not just the price, but what it means.

“Thank you,” you say, voice steadying.

He nods once. Then adds, almost like an afterthought, “Don’t cry. I won’t know what to do with that.”

You let out a breath half laugh, half something else. “I’m not crying. Just... processing. This is insane,” you murmur, your hands hovering just above the bag.

“Like actually insane.” You reach in again, fingertips brushing the handle like it's fragile. Like it might vanish if you touch it too long.

His voice cuts through the quiet. “You forgot.”

You blink, looking up sharply. “Forgot what?”

Your mind starts racing. did you miss a meeting? An investor call? Something urgent? Your tablet is already lighting up in your hand, but then—

“It’s your work anniversary.”

You freeze.

“…What?”

“THree years,” Wonwoo says plainly. “Today.”

You stare at him. For a second, you don’t know what to say.

You’d lost track. too busy chasing deadlines, organizing his schedule, holding everything together. It slipped past you like so many other personal milestones.

But not him.

“This is way too much,” you say, laughing under your breath as you shake your head. “I mean—this bag? We can’t accept gifts this expensive. It’s in the handbook, page thirty-two”

Wonwoo lifts a brow. “I’m the CEO.”

“Right. But even you—”

“What are they going to do?” he asks, tone flat, but laced with something you can’t quite place. “Fire me for bending a rule or two?”

And that hits differently.because you know who he is.

Jeon Wonwoo doesn’t bend.

He doesn’t indulge.He doesn’t move unless it’s efficient, calculated, strategic. His life is systems and structure. Precision down to the second.

And yet this. He bent a rule.

For you.

You don’t let yourself sit in that thought for long. You can’t. Not when it threatens to stir something too deep, too real.

So you set the bag down gently, like it’s sacred. Like you’re afraid of what holding it too long might reveal.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

“But you did.”

You glance up. He’s looking at you again. You look away first. You always do when it’s like this. When the air feels too heavy, too loud for two people standing in complete silence.

Wonwoo stands. He shrugs on his coat, slow and deliberate, then moves to your side to retrieve something from the table. You can feel him without looking. The warmth of him. The tension.

Neither of you says anything.

“I’ll have the car brought around,” he says quietly. “It’s late.”

You nod, still not trusting your voice. “Okay.”

He walks past you, heading for the door. Then stops. Doesn’t look back. Just says, low and even, “Three years is a long time. You’ve earned it.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

The city lights blur past the car window, streaks of gold and blue washing across the glass like motion smeared in silence.

Wonwoo sits in the back seat, coat open, tie loosened slightly. He doesn’t say much. Never does with his driver. But his mind isn’t still.

He leans his head back against the seat, eyes closing for a moment. The hum of the engine fills the space between his thoughts.

Three years.

He remembered. Of course he did. Dates are easy. Predictable. Clean. But that’s not why he got the bag.

He heard you mention it once. Then again. And again, like a joke you didn’t realize you kept repeating when the days got long and the pressure sharpened around the edges.

“That bag is the dream. That’s my finish line.” “If I survive Q3, I’m buying it. Manifesting.” “Maybe in my next life when it doesn’t cost a kidney.”

Each time, you said it like it didn’t matter. Like it was a throwaway thought, just something to lighten the mood.

But he remembered not because it was important in the grand scheme of things. But because you said it. And he listens when you speak.

He always listens.

Wonwoo opens his eyes, watching the reflection of the streetlamps skim over his reflection in the glass.

You looked at the bag like it wasn’t real. Like you didn’t quite believe you were allowed to have something that wasn’t earned through exhaustion or sacrifice.

He hated that look.

You’ve given everything. More than anyone in that building. And still, you doubt if you deserve even the smallest indulgence.

You’d told him it was too much. That it broke rules. That gifts like that weren’t acceptable.

He said, “I’m the boss.”

It was a joke. But not really because it wasn’t just about the rules. It was about what he could control. And for someone like him, that’s everything.

The car slows as it turns onto the private street leading to his penthouse tower. His building looms ahead, lights on near the top floor.

But he doesn’t move.

He stays there for a second longer. Letting himself sit with the quiet thought he won’t say aloud. That he doesn’t care about the bag. Doesn’t care about the price, or the brand, or what it might look like to anyone else.

He got it because it made you smile. Even if only for a moment.

And because it let him give you something — for once — without it being part of the job.

The elevator ride up is silent. Smooth. Efficient.

But his thoughts stay with you. Like they always do, lately.

You, with your sharp eyes and steady voice. You, who can answer his questions before he even speaks. You, who always knows when he hasn’t eaten, when he needs to be pulled back from the edge, when silence says more than words.

He steps into the penthouse. It’s spotless. Quiet. Exactly the way he likes it.

He thinks of your expression tonight. The way your voice faltered. How quickly you looked away. He didn’t say anything then.

He won’t tomorrow, either.

But the rules? He’s already bent them.

And that’s not nothing.

The next few days settle into rhythm. Or at least, the shape of one.

You’re back to the usual: synchronized movements, shared silences, decisions made with nothing more than a glance. The bag now lives on a shelf in your apartment, untouched but not forgotten.

It’s business as usual.

Except not really because something has shifted.

It lives in the pause between your words, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching. An elephant in the room dressed in tailored suits and polished restraint.

This morning is no different.

You’re in his office early, already running through his schedule with a practiced efficiency.

“First meeting at nine with Strategy, followed by the call with Tokyo. After that, the product review with Marketing, then the lunch briefing with legal.” You scroll through your tablet, tapping quickly. “Afternoon is clean aside from the quarterly report with Accounting. Oh, and someone from the Chairman’s office—”

You pause when you notice it.

He’s standing in front of his mirror, silent as usual, but there’s a small crease between his brows. His left cuff is fastened, but the right dangles open, the cufflink still on the tray nearby. His fingers brush the fabric, slow and stiff, trying again.

Jeon Wonwoo, youngest CEO in the country. Mind like a scalpel. Composed down to the breath.

And yet here he is — struggling with a cufflink.

It’s not unusual, exactly. You know him well enough to know his hands go a little rigid when he’s deep in thought, when the numbers won’t sit right, or when he’s slept less than three hours, which has been more often than not lately.

But it’s distracting. The way his fingers fumble. The way he doesn’t ask for help, won’t ask for help so you don’t ask either.

You set your tablet on the table quietly and alk across the room without a word.

You pick up the cufflink from the tray, then gently reach for his wrist.

Your fingers curl around it. You’ve done this before, in passing, in chaos, during ten-second scrambles between meetings.

His arm stays still as you fold the fabric, press the metal through the slit, fasten it in place. It’s mechanical. Thoughtless. You’ve done it so many times.

But then you glance up nd that’s when it hits you.

Just how close you are.

You’re standing barely a breath away, your hands still on his wrist, your face tilted toward his collar. His cologne is subtle, expensive, and now impossibly near. The warmth radiating from him sinks under your skin before you can steel yourself against it.

He’s watching you.

You drop your gaze quickly, fingers brushing against his skin as you pull back.

“All done,” you say, and you hate how your voice feels thinner than usual.

You turn back toward your tablet, moving before he can respond, needing the space like you need oxygen.

Business as usual but not really.

And both of you know it.

You stare at the door of the penthouse for a beat longer than necessary.

Jeon Wonwoo does not miss mornings. He does not run late. And he definitely doesn’t go silent.

You had called his driver when his office remained empty well past his usual arrival.

“He hasn’t come down,” the driver had said, voice tinged with something close to concern. “He always texts. He didn’t today.”

That’s all it took. One missing signal in a man who never forgets a beat.

So now you’re here, using the emergency access card he gave you over a year ago. For security protocols, he’d said. Just in case.

You’d never had to use it until now.

The lock beeps. The door opens. You step inside.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

You walk in, shoes barely making a sound against the sleek floors. T You pass the kitchen, untouched. No coffee. No breakfast. And then, finally, you find him.

His room is dim, curtains drawn halfway, Wonwoo lies on the bed, half-covered by the sheets, body curled slightly in a way that makes your stomach twist.

His face is pale except for the red burning high across his cheekbones. Sweat at his temples. Hair stuck slightly to his forehead.

He’s burning up.

“Sir?” you say, quietly, cautiously.

No response.

You step closer, heart picking up now, each second tightening your chest a little more. You place a hand lightly on his forehead. It’s scalding.

“Wonwoo,” you say again, firmer this time.

His eyes open barely but when they land on you, something in his expression shifts. Like he’s seeing something impossible. His voice is hoarse, dry.

“You’re here.”

“You didn’t show. No text. I called your driver.” You pause, kneeling beside the bed now. “You’re sick.”

“Didn’t mean to sleep through…”

You shake your head, already reaching for the blanket, pulling it higher over him. “You didn’t just sleep through — your body shut down. God, you should’ve called someone.”

His eyes close again, brows twitching as if the thought of arguing with you costs more energy than he has. “Didn’t want to—” he exhales — “make it your problem.”

Your fingers still for half a second, then move again, tugging the covers with more care this time.

“Too late for that. I’m making it mine.”

You move around the room, switching on the bedside lamp, searching for a thermometer, medicine, anything. When you find none, you grab your phone and start making calls, his doctor, your contacts, the concierge for extra supplies.

You’re in work mode, the same precise, efficient tone you use in meetings and under pressure, but your hands shake slightly as you dial. You return to his side, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek again.

Wonwoo opens his eyes a sliver. “…You mad?”

You scoff quietly. “Furious.”

His lips twitch into the ghost of a smile, dry and weak but still him. “Figured.”

“You’re the CEO of a multi-billion won company and you can’t even tell someone when you’re sick? What kind of example—”

“I was tired,” he mutters. “Didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You have a fever of 39.4. That’s bad, Wonwoo.”

You don’t realize you’ve dropped the title until it’s already said. His name. Not sir, not CEO Jeon . Just… Wonwoo.

“I’m staying,” you say before he can argue. “Don’t bother telling me to go back to the office. You’re not dying alone in here just because you’re pathologically stubborn. Next time, just text. Like a normal person.”

You went out for a moment to grab something. balancing a small bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. You’re mentally rehearsing how to convince a man like Jeon Wonwoo to eat more than three spoonfuls of congee.

Then you see him.

Sitting up in bed, back against the headboard, glasses on and right there on the nightstand, his phone, which he’s just reaching for.

Not on your watch.

You move fast, stepping across the room and snatching the phone before he can grab it. He blinks, caught in the act.

“Hey—” his voice is still rough but clearer than earlier, more him now.

You raise an eyebrow. “Nope.”

“You do remember I’m still your boss, right?”

You roll your eyes and toss the phone gently onto the dresser, far out of his reach. “And you remember you’re running a fever and nearly passed out alone this morning, right?”

“I’m fine now.”

“You sat up. That’s not a full recovery.”

He exhales slowly, jaw flexing as he rests his head back against the headboard. “I need to check on a few things.”

“You’ll live if you don’t answer emails for six hours,” you say, placing the food down on the nearby table. “In fact, so will the company. Miraculously.”

Wonwoo watches you, eyes narrowed behind his glasses, expression unreadable. It’s not that usual sharp gaze — it’s quieter now, like he’s studying you rather than challenging you.

You ignore it. You move to pour water into a glass and set it down on the nightstand next to him. “Drink first.”

He doesn’t move.

“Seriously, don’t make me spoon-feed you,” you add dryly.

That gets the smallest quirk at the edge of his mouth. “You’d do that?”

“Try me.”

His eyes meet yours, something soft flickering there. “You’re being very bold today.”

“You left me no choice. I wasn’t about to let Jeon Wonwoo become a tragic headline: Youngest CEO in Korea dies alone in penthouse because he refuses to text assistant back.”

His laugh is barely a breath, but you catch it. Low, quiet. Real.

“Eat. Slowly.”

He takes the spoon, finally, and you watch as he takes a bite. You don't miss the small win when he doesn't grimace. Instead, he nods. “It’s…decent.”

“High praise.”

“You didn’t make it, did you?”

“Rude.”

After a few moments, he says, “You came all the way here.”

You glance at him, surprised. “Of course I did.”

"Did you at least call my driver?" he asks, voice low but calm.

You freeze for half a second, then busy yourself with the water bottle, unscrewing the cap like it needs your full attention. You don’t answer. He already knows.

His expression shifts subtly. Jaw tensing just enough. "You didn’t."

"Before you start," you say quickly, holding up a hand without meeting his eyes, "you cannot nag me right now. You’re sick. You're literally under a blanket and still half-burning up."

"You took the bus." He says it like it’s a crime.

"It’s not like I walked across the Han River. It was two stops, and it was faster than calling someone. What did you expect me to do, wait?"

“I expected you to be smarter about your safety.”

You glance at him then, lips twitching in dry amusement. “That’s rich coming from the man who was about to go to a board meeting while actively dying.”

“I wasn’t dying,” he mutters.

“You were sweating through your mattress.”

He glares, but it lacks real heat. “You know I’ve been trying to get you to learn to drive.”

“And I’ve been politely declining,” you counter.

“You’re going to keep declining even if it means riding a crowded bus to the top of a private skyscraper in the middle of Gangnam?”

“If it means making sure my boss doesn’t collapse alone in his overly minimalist bedroom, yes.”

“You’re impossible.”

You smirk. “I’ve been told.”

He shifts slightly in the bed, resting the bowl of soup on the tray. “I just don’t get why you won’t—”

“Wonwoo,” you interrupt, tone firm but not unkind.

“You work late hours. Some nights you leave past midnight. You don’t tell anyone when you head home—”

“And what, you’re gonna start putting a tracker on me next?” you joke, trying to cut the tension, trying not to think about how this doesn’t sound like a boss worrying about his assistant anymore.

He doesn’t even blink. “If that’s what it takes.”

You stare at him, unsure if you’re more shocked that he said it, or that he said it so seriously. You stand abruptly, clearing your throat.

“Okay, you’re clearly fever-delirious. That, or you’re confusing me with a younger sister you don’t have.”

“Stop deflecting—”

“Stop sounding like someone who has a say in how I get home.”

The air tightens between you, tension stretched taut and sharp, until a buzz from the panel near the door. The intercom.

You breathe out in relief, practically speed-walking to answer it. “Doctor’s here.”

You open the door before he can say anything else, and the on-call physician walks in, polite and efficient with his small case in hand. Wonwoo sighs and settles deeper into the pillows as the doctor greets him and begins unpacking instruments.

You feel his gaze on you as the doctor checks his vitals, asks him routine questions but you don’t look back. You can’t.

Not when your heart’s still catching up to what it all means.

The doctor left just before sunset, giving you a few instructions and a prescription list you already knew you'd handle yourself.

The apartment lights are dimmed to a soft gold. Outside, the city is easing into the deep hues of early evening, the skyline humming behind the wide windows.

Wonwoo rests against the headboard again, he looks much better than how you found him this morning. You sit in the armchair across from the bed, fingers tapping your knee rhythmically, tablet balanced in your lap.

You're pretending to go over tomorrow’s briefings.

He’s pretending not to stare.

“Are you hungry again?” you ask finally, not looking up.

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No.”

“…About to say something else about bus safety?”

He speaks again after a moment, voice softer this time. “You always do this.”

You tilt your head. “Do what?”

“Act like you’re fine. Like you didn’t just spend the last six hours worried sick and micromanaging every detail of my care.”

“I’m your assistant,” you say, slower now. “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

You shift in the chair and glance toward the side table. “I should prep the meds. You’ll need to take something before bed.”

You stand, already turning toward the counter when he says quietly, “You really weren’t going to tell me you took the bus, were you?”

You pause mid-step. “Nope.”

“I’m going to hire you a driver.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m going to try.”

You turn halfway, eyebrow raised. “Good luck with that.”

You’re lining up the pill packet with almost militant focus when his voice cuts through the quiet again.

"Okay, fine."

You glance over. He doesn’t even open his eyes. Just says, calmly, like it's the most reasonable thing in the world:

"Either you let me hire a driver for you… or I’m driving you home myself."

The sound of the pill bottle cap clicking shut is the only thing between you and the complete whiplash you feel.

"I'm sorry, what?" you ask, turning fully now, arms crossed.

One eye opens lazily. “You heard me.”

"You’re literally sick in bed."

"I'm not that sick."

"You had a fever of 39.5 like—" you check your watch, "—four hours ago."

"I'm recovering. Fast. As usual."

“You just had soup and nearly fell asleep between spoonfuls. And now you want to play chauffeur?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you'd let me hire a driver like a normal high-ranking executive assistant.”

"I'm not normal, though," you fire back, smug. "That’s why you keep me around."

"And because of that, I have no choice but to personally ensure you don't commute like you're still in college.”

You squint. “You’re threatening me. With a ride.”

“I’m offering you one,” he says, voice all false sweetness now. “As your extremely thoughtful boss.”

“No, this is extortion.”

He shrugs — or tries to. It’s barely more than a weak lift of his shoulder. “You either accept a company-assigned driver... or you accept Jeon Wonwoo, flu and all, behind the wheel.”

“You can't just hold your own sickness over me like that. It’s emotional blackmail.”

“It’s logical consequence.”

“You’re delirious.”

“You’re stubborn.”

You throw your hands up. “You can't drive me home! What if someone sees?”

“Let them.”

You stare at him. He stares back, perfectly calm, perfectly composed, like he didn't just casually declare social war on your carefully constructed boundaries.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what the tabloids would say if you got papped driving your assistant home in your Aston Martin.”

“That you finally caved and accepted a ride like a rational adult?”

“You’re impossible,” you grumble, turning back toward the kitchen.

“You say that, but you still haven’t said no.”

About an hour later you’re holding your phone, thumb hovering just above the call button, eyeing the door like it’s somehow going to open by itself and grant you escape. You’ve done the math. Checked the timing. Calculated the route. You could sneak out. Technically.

But you also know this man.

You know how he notices every detail, how he reads every flicker of hesitation like it’s printed in bold. And unfortunately for you… that road goes both ways.

“Don’t even try it.” His voice cuts through the quiet, low and unbothered.

You groan “Fine. I’m calling the driver.”

He arches a brow without even looking up from the bottle of water you gave him. “Only took you an hour”

You point a warning finger at him. “Only for tonight.”

He hums. “So you’re negotiating with me now?”

“Yes,” you snap back. “Because you’re being like an overprotective boy—”

You freeze.

He freezes.

You clamp your mouth shut so fast you feel your teeth click.

The room goes dead silent. Not even the city noise outside dares to interrupt this moment of sheer, horrifying clarity.

Wonwoo slowly sets the water bottle down, eyes narrowing just slightly as he looks at you — not in irritation, not in mockery, but in something far worse.

Amusement. No. Worse.

Interest.

“Overprotective… what?” he asks, far too calmly.

You shoot to your feet like the chair burned you. “Boss. BOSS. That’s what I was going to say. Obviously.”

“Were you?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“So sure.”

He leans back into the pillows again, arms crossed like he’s settling in to enjoy the chaos. “Sounded like something else.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, aggressively casual. “You're obviously still running a fever.”

He gives you a long, unreadable look. And then, in the most infuriatingly smug tone:

“Just saying. Boyfriends do tend to worry about their girlfriends taking late-night buses alone.”

You look at him like he just grew a second head.

“Excuse me?”

“But I’m not saying anything,” he adds, shrugging one shoulder.

“Good. Don’t.”

“You already said it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He gestures toward you. “It was right there. Almost out.”

“Almost doesn’t count.”

“It does to me.”

You groan again, dragging your hands down your face as you spin around toward the counter, muttering something unintelligible into your palms.

You end up calling the driver but somehow you still feel like he won this round.

The next morning he texted you at 6:47 a.m.

JWW: I’ll be back today. Resume as normal.

Now it’s 9:03 a.m., and you’re standing across his desk, scrolling through your tablet as you list off the day’s schedule like always except today, there’s a weird hitch in the rhythm because he’s not responding.

No confirming nods, no subtle gestures, no hmm or okay. Not even his usual corrections when you list the sequence slightly out of order.

You glance up — and freeze.

He’s not signing anything. Not reading. Not checking his watch, or his emails, or multitasking the way he usually does with quiet precision.

He’s just… staring at you.

“...The quarterly partner dinner has been moved to next Wednesday,” you continue, a little slower now, narrowing your eyes. “They requested the Hangang Room instead of the main hall, and the guest list is—”

“Why didn’t you argue with me this morning?”

You blink.

“Because I knew you’d win,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing further. “Also, I like having a job.”

“That’s not usually what stops you.”

You close your tablet with a sharp little snap. “Okay. What’s going on.”

“Nothing,” he says, still watching.

“You’re not doing anything.”

“I’m listening.”

“No, you’re staring. There’s a difference. One feels like work, the other feels like…” You trail off, suspicious. “Did the fever damage your frontal lobe? Blink twice if you need me to call the doctor back.”

His mouth twitches — that almost-smile you’re starting to clock more often than you used to.

“I was just thinking,” he says.

“Dangerous.”

He huffs a laugh. “About how strange it is.”

You raise a brow. “What is?”

“This. You.” He tilts his head slightly. “You’re doing exactly what you’ve always done — running through my day, anticipating every need, already knowing what I’ll ask before I ask it — and yet...”

“And yet?”

“It feels different.”

“Maybe because you’re still half-recovering and emotionally compromised by your own mortality,” you say lightly, trying to diffuse it.

But he doesn’t let it go. He just rests his chin in one hand, elbow on the desk, and says plainly:

“Maybe it’s because I can’t stop wondering what you were about to call me last night.”

You freeze. Then slowly, very slowly, you tuck your tablet under your arm, straighten your posture, and say

“I was going to say ‘boiling.’ Like boiling overprotective CEO.’ You know. Because you had a fever.”

Wonwoo stares at you and ou stare right back.

It’s silent for two seconds too long before he exhales a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and mutters, “You’re a terrible liar.”

You turn sharply on your heel, muttering, “Resuming normal schedule,” and make for the door.

The car ride back to the city is quiet. You’d both just finished a site visit, checking on progress for a high-profile expansion project. he’s halfway through reviewing the day’s minutes when you mention needing caffeine before heading back into Seoul traffic.

He doesn’t even argue. Just mutters a dry, “Fine, but only if you don’t insist on that sugar-water vanilla thing you call coffee.”

“It’s not sugar-water. It’s comforting.”

“It's a dessert.”

“You wear suits to construction sites. What’s your point?”

The café is small and tucked at the edge of a quiet road, with warm wood interiors and soft lighting. A little too charming, honestly. The kind of place couples probably stop by on dates after hiking.

“I’ll take a hot americano,” he says, pulling out his card.

Then the barista turns to you, smiling. “And for your girlfriend?”

Before you can answer, Wonwoo beats you to it.

“She’ll have an iced vanilla latte. And one of those croissants to go.”

The words hit the air like a glass shattering on tile. You gape at him, every muscle in your body seizing. He doesn’t even blink. Just calmly taps his card, like he didn’t just commit social assassination.

You don’t even think, your hand moves on instinct, pinching his side with a sharp “are you crazy” kind of vengeance.

He grunts and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Ow.”

You hiss under your breath, leaning in. “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Mm.” He moves aside so you can grab your coffee. “Didn’t feel like correcting him.”

“That’s not how correcting works!”

He takes a sip of his americano, completely unbothered. “He assumed. I went with it. You were going to order an iced vanilla latte anyway,” he adds, like that justifies everything.

“That’s not the point—”

“Croissant too?”

You stare.

He smirks, that tiny half-quirk of his lips that always means trouble. “You always eye them. Never buy them.”

You blink. “...You watch me eye pastries?”

“You make it very obvious.”

You grip your cup like it might keep you grounded in this reality. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yet,” he says casually, holding the door open for you, “you still show up every morning.”

You walk past him without looking. “Because I’m contractually obligated.”

He follows. “Is that all?”

“Don’t push your luck, CEO Jeon.”

Later taht evening. You get home and drop your bag like it weighs ten kilos. Which, to be fair, it might — emotionally, at least.

Your heels come off with two exhausted kicks by the door, and you shuffle in like a ghost that's been overworked and emotionally blindsided in the span of a single car ride and a café order.

Your thoughts are spiraling again. Replaying the moment on a loop like your brain’s refusing to let it go.

My girlfriend will have an iced vanilla latte.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face.

He didn’t even flinch. Said it like he orders for you all the time. Which he doesn’t. Because he’s your boss. Your boss. The youngest CEO in South Korea. The man who built empires with one look and shuts entire boardrooms up without raising his voice.

You should not — cannot — be thinking about how sharp his jaw looked when he turned slightly in the café light. Or how the corners of his eyes crinkled just the tiniest bit when you pinched him.

You’ve lasted this long. Years of working beside him, through sleepless nights and global deals, through power plays and gala events and 3 a.m. emergencies. You’ve survived his deadpan sarcasm, his overachiever control freak tendencies, even the subtle ways he remembers your coffee order and favorite pastry.

You cannot fall for—

“Unnie.”

You scream.

Your little sister Minjeong blinks up at you from the couch, a blanket around her shoulders and a bag of chips halfway to her mouth. “Whoa! Are you okay?!”

You clutch your chest, gasping like you just ran a marathon in your own hallway. “Minjeong! What the hell—what are you doing here?!”

She shrugs like she lives here, which, okay, technically she does. “I finished class early. You didn’t text back, so I figured you were still working late. But you’re early.”

You slump onto the armrest of the couch, still trying to get your heart rate back to normal. “Early is a strong word. I’ve just… had a day.”

She squints at you. “Wait. Are you blushing?”

You stare at her. “I am not.”

“You so are. Your ears are red. That only happens when you’re embarrassed or thinking about something you shouldn’t be thinking about—oh my God, is it work guy?!”

“Stop calling him that.”

“You never give me a name! So I just assumed ‘mysterious hot boss you won’t talk about’ means he’s secretly your forbidden office love.”

You groan, burying your face into the blanket she left on the side of the couch. “I hate you.”

“You do not. Spill. Right now.”

You mumble through the blanket. “He called me his girlfriend in public.”

Minjeong gasps so loudly it sounds fake. “WHAT?!”

“In front of a barista. Like it was nothing”

Minjeong slaps the couch cushion beside her. “Did he wink? Was there hand-holding? Did he look at you like you’re the only woman who’s ever understood his trauma?!”

You lift your head. “What drama have you been watching—?”

“This is real life drama! What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything! I pinched him! Pinched. In public.”

Minjeong’s mouth falls open. “Scandalous.”

You groan again, collapsing fully onto the couch this time. “He’s my boss, Minjeong. This is a nightmare.”

She leans over you, her eyes wide. “Or it’s the best plot twist ever.”

You throw a pillow at her. your face is still warm and the word girlfriend won’t leave your head.

Wonwoo can pinpoint the exact moment it shifted.

It wasn’t some dramatic, earth-shattering realization. No lightning bolt. No slow-motion scene from a movie.

It was simpler than that. Quiet, like most important things in his life.

You were leaning over his desk, rattling off his schedule without looking at your tablet — because you’d already memorized it. You were adjusting his tie, the fifth time that month because he couldn’t be bothered to fix it right

You had this look on your face and you didn’t even flinch when he gave one of his sharper remarks. You just quipped something under your breath and moved on.

And that was it.

That was the moment. He still remembers thinking, God, I’m in trouble.

He’d always been good at structure. It was how he survived becoming CEO at twenty-eight. How he controlled rooms full of people twice his age and didn’t blink. His life was systemized, every minute accounted for, every decision calculated.

But you… you snuck in between the seconds. You made space where there wasn’t supposed to be any. And worst of all — you never asked for it.

You never asked for special treatment. Never tried to charm your way into anything. You just showed up — on time, prepared, infuriatingly perceptive — and somehow made the chaos manageable. Made him manageable.

He tried not to think too hard about it. Especially in the beginning. You were his assistant. That line was immovable. He’d built too much to risk it.

But then you started noticing the little things too. That he skips lunch when he’s stressed, that his coffee order changes depending on how his meetings went. That he gets tension headaches after long phone calls in Japanese. That he breathes a little easier when you’re around.

You never said anything about it. But you adjusted for him, anyway. Quietly. Naturally.

When the word “girlfriend” slipped out, he expected panic. Maybe a scandalized look or a stammer. He didn’t expect a sharp pinch to the side.

And God, if that didn’t make him want to smile.

Now, sitting in his living room after watching you nearly combust from your own embarrassment, he can’t help but let the smirk tug at his lips. The one he only ever lets slip when no one’s around.

He knows it’s risky. Knows the lines are still there, waiting.

But he also knows something else now — something he’s known for a while but only recently let himself admit:

You aren’t just part of his life.

You are his life.

The quiet in the storm. The thread in the chaos. The one person who never demanded anything, and somehow ended up meaning everything.

The door opens with a heavy click, and you glance up from the stack of files on your lap. Wonwoo walks in, loosening his tie with one hand, the other clutching his tablet. His jaw is tight, movements sharper than usual.

He doesn’t speak at first, just tosses the tablet onto the desk and shrugs off his jacket. Eventually, he turns, leaning back against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. His eyes find yours, unreadable but heavy. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

You tilt your head, voice soft. “Bad meeting?”

He scoffs, low and humorless. “Understatement.”

“Do you want me to reschedule anything for tomorrow? Push a few things so you get a breather in the morning?”

He shakes his head, looking down at the floor for a beat. “No. I’ll handle it.”

You eye him for a second, then lean forward, sorting through another file. “You say that like you’re not running on caffeine and spite.”

“Spite’s effective,” he murmurs.

You glance up again. “Not sustainable.”

He walks around the desk slowly, finally moving toward you. You expect him to stop at his chair, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to where you’re sitting and wordlessly drops down on the couch beside you, close enough that his thigh brushes yours.

You don’t say anything at first but then, voice quiet you say “Was it something I can fix?”

He exhales through his nose, then turns his head to look at you. “You fix more than you know.”

Your chest tightens, but you force a small smile, bumping his knee with yours. “Yeah, well. That’s what you pay me for, right?”

He hums, eyes still on you. “I don’t pay you enough.”

You glance away before you can look too long, heart tripping slightly. You’re too aware of how close he is. Of the tension from earlier meetings still lingering in his shoulders, the tired look in his eyes, the quiet way he always softens when it’s just the two of you in moments like this.

“You hungry?”

His lips quirk faintly. “Only if you are.”

You smile at that, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re both going to end up eating crackers from the vending machine again, aren’t we?”

“Classy dinner for two.”

You laugh under your breath, and he watches you. A little too long. A little too hard.

Then he leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice quieter now. “You should’ve gone home earlier.”

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze. “You know I don’t leave until you do.”

He looks at you for a moment more, something in his eyes you can’t place.

And then softly, under his breath: “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

You blink. “What?”

But he’s already standing again, brushing off his pants, like he didn’t just say something that made your stomach twist.

“I’ll call the driver,” he says. “We’re done for today.”

And just like that, the moment is gone.

Minjeong flops down next to you on the couch, dropping her backpack with the kind of dramatic sigh only college students and people who’ve had three back-to-back group projects can muster. “God, if I hear the word ‘presentation’ one more time, I’m throwing myself into the Han River.”

You grunt from under your blanket, fully cocooned. “Mood.”

She turns to look at you. “Why do you look like a defeated burrito?”

“I am a defeated burrito.”

Minjeong raises a brow. “Rough day?”

You pause. Then with a long, tragic sigh, you mumble, “Hypothetically…”

“Oh boy.”

“…what does one do,” you continue, voice muffled from under your blanket, “when they’re… possibly… kind of… maybe… starting to like someone they’re not supposed to like.”

Minjeong’s eyes light up like a crow who spotted something shiny. “Ooohhh. We’re finally talking about it.”

You sit up just enough to glare at her. “Talking about what? I said hypothetical.”

“Yeah, sure. Hypothetical,” she echoes, with full air quotes. “Let me guess. Is this hypothetical person tall? Powerful? Smart? Obsessed with order? Wears tailored suits that scream ‘please emotionally damage me��?”

You scowl. “You know too much.”

“I live with you. You literally talk in your sleep.”

You throw a pillow at her. She catches it with a smirk. “So what happened? Did he brush your hand? Did he breathe too close?”

You sigh again, flopping back dramatically. “He ordered coffee for me. Then today he drove me home, well his driver did but you get what i mean right?”

Minjeong stares. “Wow. Scandalous. I hope you recovered from that very erotic experience. so what’s the problem?”

You groan, throwing your hands over your face. “The problem is: 1. He’s my boss. 2. I’m his assistant. 3. He’s objectively terrifying. 4. I’m very good at pretending I don’t find him absurdly attractive. 5. I don’t want to die.”

Minjeong leans in like she’s hosting a gossip podcast. “But you do like him.”

“No! Maybe. I don’t know. Shut up.”

She’s grinning so wide now you want to kick her. “This is so fun for me.”

“Good. Glad one of us is thriving.”

“You know,” she says, suddenly thoughtful, “for someone who’s always in control and totally unflappable at work, you really are spiraling like a romcom heroine right now.”

“I am not—”

“Next thing I know you’ll be running through the rain in heels crying about how you can’t be with him.”

“First of all, I would never ruin good heels like that. Second, I hate you.”

She grins, leans over, and flicks your forehead. “You love me. And you totally love him.”

You flop back into your blanket. “God, I need a lobotomy.”

“Nope,” she chirps, standing up. “You need a plan. Operation: Seduce Scary CEO.”

You peek from under the blanket. “I will call mom.”

“And tell her what? That I’m encouraging you to get your rich, hot boss to fall in love with you? She’ll ask why it hasn’t happened already.”

You sigh like it’s your last breath on Earth and scrub your hands over your face. “I’m serious, Min. I can’t do this.”

She pokes her head back into the living room like a nosy meerkat. “Do what, exactly?”

You groan, flopping back down on the couch. “Function like a normal human being when he does these things! Like, he’ll look at me — just look! — and for a solid three seconds my brain just. Stops working. Completely.”

Minjeong is smirking again, the menace. “So... like how you look at carbs after a diet?”

“Worse!” you wail. “Because bread doesn’t make me think about HR policies!”

Min walks over, sits back down beside your burrito form, and raises a brow. “That’s a very specific guilt.”

You wave your hand like you’re shooing away the ghost of professionalism. “It’s one hell of a long letter to HR, Min. One hell of a letter. ‘Dear HR, I accidentally had a daydream about my boss shirtless again. It was a Tuesday. There was nothing I could do.’”

She snorts. “Again?!”

“Don’t judge me, I’m fragile.”

Min is full-on laughing now. “You’re spiraling.”

“I am!” you cry dramatically. “He said I was his girlfriend to a stranger! In public! With his CEO face on like it was just another bullet point in the agenda!”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t just to mess with you?”

You glare. “Oh, he was absolutely messing with me. But then he does that thing where he holds eye contact a second too long, or says something kind of sweet but in his emotionally constipated CEO tone, and I just— I lose my ability to form words.”

Min makes a fake sympathetic noise. “Poor thing. Falling for your terrifying boss who buys you luxury bags and remembers your coffee order.”

You grumble into the blanket. “He’s too powerful. It’s like being in a boss battle with feelings. And I can’t even use any of my attacks because he already has all the cheat codes!”

Min pats your head. “You need therapy.”

“I need to quit.”

“You won’t.”

You sigh. “I know. I’d just end up crying on the street while LinkedIn roasts me with passive-aggressive rejection emails.”

Min grins and stands. “I’ll go start popcorn. Let me know if you plan to make out with him in a boardroom so I can clear my evening.”

Wonwoo noticed it immediately.

It was subtle at first barely-there shifts only someone who’d spent nearly every waking moment with you the last three years would even register. But for someone like him, whose job required reading rooms, reading people, reading you, it was impossible not to see it.

You still handed him his coffee just the way he liked it. Your reports were still precise, your scheduling still impeccable, and your presence still reliable as ever.

But that was the thing. That’s all you were now.

Reliable. Efficient. Distant.

You no longer stood too close. No light teasing, no under-your-breath comments when you passed each other in tight hallways. No quiet, shared glances from across a boardroom when someone said something ridiculous.

But oddly enough… it wasn’t like you were distracted. Not the usual kind.

You were sharper. Every task executed with ruthless precision. Every deadline met before he even brought it up. It was as if you’d turned all your energy inward, redirecting it completely to your job. Like a shield. Like a wall.

And Wonwoo hated it.

He hated the unfamiliar cold that came with your new distance. He hated that you didn’t argue anymore, didn’t nag him over meals or mutter things under your breath that made him stifle a smirk in the middle of a meeting. The version of you that made his world feel a little less mechanical.

He sat behind his desk one evening, watching you through the glass as you stood outside, briefing a junior team member like your voice didn’t used to soften when you spoke just to him.

And for the first time in a while, Wonwoo didn’t know what he was doing.

Because he could face boards, competitors, the press, entire industries with calm precision—but facing this version of you?

He didn’t know where to begin.

The rain was merciless, pounding the windows with a steady rhythm that usually lulled you to sleep. But tonight, it sounded like a warning. Something in the air had felt off since evening fell, like the silence was heavier than it should be.

You had tried to brush it off.

Minjeong had noticed your restlessness, teasing you lightly before retreating to her room. But even she had paused before closing her door, glancing back with a furrowed brow like she sensed something too.

You were just about to crawl into bed, hair still damp from your shower, oversized sweatshirt hanging off your shoulder. The kind of night where you should’ve been half-asleep already, but instead you stared at your phone like it might suddenly buzz.

And then it did.

The name flashing across the screen made your chest tighten instantly

Kang, security detail.

You answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Miss—” the man’s voice cracked slightly, something in it strained. “There’s been an incident. Mr. Jeon’s convoy—on the return from the site. There was an accident. He’s—he’s conscious, but we’re still assessing. Paramedics are on site. We’re bringing him back to the penthouse for further monitoring. Doctor will be on standby.”

You didn’t hear the rest.

Your body moved on instinct—keys, shoes, phone—your sweatshirt was soaked in seconds as you dashed through the rain, adrenaline silencing the voice in your head screaming for answers. You didn’t call anyone. Didn’t text. Didn’t stop.

You just ran.

By the time you got to the penthouse, it was chaos. His head legal counsel was there, murmuring in tight tones to someone from security.

A private doctor stood near the hallway, suitcase open and ready. The elevator dinged softly behind you, someone rushing past with documents in hand. Every face was tense. Quiet.

You stood there, dripping wet, your lungs burning not from the run but from what came next.

“Where is he?” you asked the moment one of the security team spotted you.

“They’re just bringing him in—”

And then the door opened. Two guards came in first, followed by the doctor, and then—

Wonwoo.

He was walking, which gave you the tiniest ounce of reliefmbut barely. His face was pale under the dim light, soaked in rain, one arm pressed tightly to his side, the other bracing against a guard’s shoulder.

His eyes scanned the room and landed on you.

Everything stopped.

You wanted to go to him, throw your arms around him just to make sure he was real, breathing, alive but you froze. He didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at you like you were the only thing grounding him.

And somehow that look alone nearly shattered the wall you had built this past week.

You followed as the doctor led him to the couch, gloves already on, checking his vitals. Someone handed him dry clothes. He didn’t speak through any of it. He just winced when the doctor touched a bruised rib, hissed softly when antiseptic hit a gash on his arm.

Still, his eyes found you again, as if making sure you were still there.

You stood behind the couch, hands clenched into fists. You needed to stay calm. Needed to be his assistant, not this panicked, helpless version of yourself shaking in place.

“How bad is it?” you asked quietly when the doctor finally stepped back.

“He’ll need to rest some bruising. A few minor cuts. Thankfully nothing internal.” The doctor looked to you, then back to Wonwoo. “But he shouldn’t be left alone tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” you said, before anyone else could offer.

Wonwoo didn’t argue. His team slowly began filtering out, murmuring about statements, follow-ups, documents to file. You barely registered them.

When everyone else finally cleared out, and it was just you and him in the dim quiet of the penthouse, you finally moved. Walked to him slowly. Sat down on the table in front of him.

“You’re an idiot,” you said quietly. Your voice cracked.

He blinked. “...You’re soaked.”

“You almost died, and that’s your concern?”

“You’re shaking.”

“I ran here through the rain!”

A pause then he reached forward, slowly, fingers brushing yours. You flinched—not from fear, but from everything inside you that had been bubbling and cracking and breaking since the call.

He didn’t pull away.

“I told them to call you first,” he said.

You swallowed. “You did?”

“I knew you’d come.”

Of course you would. Even if it killed you.

You exhaled, shoulders finally sagging as you leaned your forehead gently against his shoulder.

“Just—don’t ever do that again,” you whispered.

“I didn’t plan on it.”

The tears came before you even realized it. You tried to blink them away, wiped at your cheeks quickly with the sleeve of your hoodie like that would make it less obvious, but it was already too late.

Wonwoo was staring at you with something unreadable in his eyes, something that wasn’t just concern or guilt or pain. Something softer.

“Are you… crying because you almost lost your boss?” he asked, tone dry but quiet, like he wasn’t sure if joking was allowed yet.

You sniffled. “Shut up.”

And he chuckled. That low, rare laugh of his that always caught you off guard. The kind that never lasted more than a second but managed to settle under your skin.

You didn’t pull away when he reached for you. You didn’t step back or pretend to be fine or make another sarcastic comment. Instead, you let yourself be tugged forward, into the warmth of his chest, your knees slipping between his as you pressed your forehead to his shoulder again.

His arms came around you, one a little tighter than the other with the bruised rib, but it didn’t matter.

You melted into him.

“You’re shaking,” he grumbled, voice muffled against your hair. “Why would you run through the rain like that? Do you even know how dangerous—”

“Wonwoo.”

“It would have been better to take the bus than this—”

“You were in a car accident,” you muttered against his shirt, voice hoarse. “You could’ve—”

“But I didn’t,” he said. And his tone dropped, lost the teasing edge. “I didn’t.”

You didn’t answer, just gripped his shirt tighter in your fists.

He sighed softly, adjusting to pull you in closer despite the dull ache in his side. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Still your assistant,” you mumbled. “Technically part of my job description to panic when my boss almost dies.”

“That’s not in any contract I’ve signed.”

You scoffed against him. “You bend rules, remember?”

That made him pause. Then he murmured, “Only for you.”

It hung in the air between you, heavier than the silence before it but you didn’t back away. Not this time. You stayed exactly where you were, your cheek pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around you like he wasn’t planning to let go any time soon.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” you deadpan, arms crossed as you stand by his office door, glaring at the man who was very much in a car accident less than twenty-four hours ago and now sat at his desk like nothing happened.

Wonwoo didn’t even flinch. He adjusted the sleeves of his dark shirt—he’d forgone the tie today, probably the only concession he made to his condition—and started tapping through emails like you weren’t shooting daggers at him from across the room.

“I already told you,” he said calmly, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you’re stubborn.” You stomped over to his desk, grabbed the edge of it like you might flip it just to make your point.

“Your shoulder’s bruised. You’ve got stitches on your hand. You limped into the building this morning, and you have a team of people who can handle things for you while you rest.”

“Yet here you are,” he replied, not looking up. “Still here. Still managing my schedule.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because I knew you’d pull this.”

“Sit down,” you said, exasperated, reaching over to grab his laptop. “You’re getting too comfortable pretending you’re indestructible. I should start locking your office when you're not fit for duty.”

Wonwoo leaned back in his chair slightly, wincing just a little. “That would be an abuse of power.”

You raised a brow. “And giving yourself a concussion from working too much isn’t?”

He blinked slowly. “It was a collision, not my laptop falling on my head.”

“Same difference.”

That made him laugh—quiet but real—and you hated how your heart did a stupid little stutter at the sound.

“Fine,” he said, finally closing the laptop. “An hour. Then I’ll rest.”

“You said that two hours ago.”

He huffed a soft laugh again behind you, then called your name, quietly.

“You didn’t have to stay last night,” he said.

“I know.”

“And you didn’t have to come running when they called.”

“I know.”

“And you still did.”

You shifted slightly under his gaze, biting your lip. “Don’t make it weird, Jeon.”

His eyes softened just enough. “I won’t. Not today.”

“Don’t say it,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, just tilts his head slightly, waiting. You glance down, hands gripping the edge of the file you’re holding like it might anchor you to the ground.

“I—I don’t know what this is,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “What we are. And maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just… blurred lines. But I’m not going to do something that can put your position at risk.”

There’s a flicker in his expression. A faint crease between his brows. Like something in your words bruised a part of him.

He still doesn’t speak. Doesn’t try to convince you, doesn’t argue or joke or push.

But what you don’t know—what he doesn’t say out loud—is that the moment you stepped into his life, everything shifted. He’s not just willing to bend the rules anymore. No, in his mind, he’s already rebuilding the whole system. Brick by brick. Quietly, meticulously.

If the rules don’t allow room for you, then the rules need to change. Simple as that.

To him, it’s never been about risk.

It’s about you.

You, who showed up through every storm. You, who know how he takes his coffee better than the barista at his usual café. You, who still argue with him about cufflinks and vitamins and going home at a reasonable hour.

You, who looked like you were going to fall apart when you saw him after the accident—and then pulled yourself together for his sake anyway.

So no—he doesn’t speak. Not yet. But as he watches you retreat across the room, back to your usual spot like nothing just passed between you, he knows.

This silence won’t last forever.

The summons came just after you got back to your desk. A message from him

JWW: Come in. Now.

You groan quietly and bang your forehead lightly against your desk twice before pushing yourself up. Of course he found out. Of course someone from HR opened their mouth.

You tried to handle it discreetly, but nothing ever stays secret for long in this building. Especially when it comes to you and Jeon Wonwoo. When you enter, he’s behind his desk, sleeves rolled to the elbows, glasses on, the expression on his face unreadable.

That’s somehow worse.

“Sit,” he says simply.

You do, because what else can you do? You sit, and the air feels a little too heavy for your liking.

“So,” he starts, folding his hands together on the desk. “Are you going to tell me what this is about or are you planning to run away without saying anything?”

You blink. “Define ‘run away’ because technically I didn’t quit—yet.”

His jaw ticks. “You went to HR.”

“I was just exploring options,” you say quickly, too quickly. “I wasn’t resigning or handing in a letter or—you know, flinging myself dramatically off the metaphorical cliff. I was just—curious.”

“Curious about replacing yourself?”

You open your mouth. Then close it. Then open it again and sigh.

“Okay. Fine. Look. I am at the point where I’m tired, okay? Tired of pretending I don’t like you more than I should. More than I will ever admit again after this, by the way. Because I can’t—we can’t—this whole thing, it’s just—”

You stop for a second, gesturing vaguely at him like he’s part of the problem (he is), then at yourself (you are), then just give up and drop your hands on your lap.

“I don’t know how we got here,” you mutter. “One minute you’re just Jeon Wonwoo: Scary CEO, walking PowerPoint presentation, likes black coffee and dark suits and the sound of his own silence. And the next minute, you’re showing up in my brain in the middle of the night like—like some tragic K-drama male lead with a concussion and tailored pants.”

You inhale sharply. “And do you know how annoying it is that you're actually nice underneath all the CEO brooding? I was fully prepared to keep ignoring my feelings for the rest of my life. I had a plan! I was emotionally repressed and everything!”

He just watches you, still too quiet, still too calm. That, more than anything, starts to unravel you.

“I thought if I started the process of finding a replacement, I could… create some distance. I mean, if I’m not your assistant anymore, then maybe—maybe I’ll stop being the person who knows what color your mood is just from how you set your coffee cup down. Or the person who notices every time you look for me in a meeting. Or—God—forgets to breathe every time you wear those damn glasses—”

Wonwoo finally stands.

You freeze.

Oh no. You crossed a line. Several lines. You practically did the tango over them.

But he doesn’t speak. He just walks around the desk and stops in front of you.

“I wore the glasses today on purpose,” he says, voice lower than before.

You blink up at him, stunned. “What?”

“I knew you’d be avoiding me. I figured it’d be the fastest way to get your attention again.”

“You—” You gape. “You manipulative, calculating—glasses-wearing menace!”

A corner of his mouth twitches.

“I told you once I don’t bend the rules for anyone,” he says. “But I would for you. I already have.”

Your breath hitches. He kneels slightly to be at your level.

“If we’re really doing this…” you start, voice quieter now, softer after all the chaos you just unloaded.

Wonwoo’s still crouched in front of you, looking like he’s got all the time in the world. His eyes haven’t left yours once. You try not to fidget. Fail. Fidget anyway.

“…And the past few minutes, days, moments weren’t just my imagination,” you continue, “then I think I want to… I mean, I would like to… resign.”

His eyes narrow a little, and you raise a hand fast.

“Not like that! I don’t mean…” You inhale and press your palms against your knees, steadying yourself. “I mean, if we’re actually doing this, the… you and me thing, or whatever this is, I don’t think I can keep working for you.”

You rush on before he can interrupt, knowing that look on his face is the quiet before the storm. “I’m serious! If it turns out we’re just a momentary cliché, if something blows up, if we break up—”

“We haven’t even started,” he says dryly.

“Exactly!” you say, flailing slightly. “And still I’m spiraling. Imagine what I’d be like if we actually dated. I’d be hiding under every Monday morning or sobbing in the elevator and calling HR with a fake voice—‘Yes, hello, it’s not me, but I think Jeon Wonwoo is dating his assistant.’”

His lips twitch. “You’d sabotage yourself?”

“In a heartbeat,” you admit shamelessly. “And then I’d call myself to schedule the investigation.”

That earns a short laugh from him, low and warm.

“I’m not saying this like I want to end anything before it starts,” you say. “But I want to keep the work stuff clean. I don’t want you to have to explain to the board or media why your assistant gets heart eyes during your presentations.”

He’s quiet again.

Still.

Too still.

“Say something. Please. Or blink. You’re staring like you already have my resignation letter drafted.”

Wonwoo finally stands. Walks around his desk. You watch, thinking he’s about to sit. He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls out a drawer, retrieves a black folder, opens it slowly… and pulls out a paper.

Your paper. Your résumé. The one you handed in three years ago, now carefully stored in his private drawer.

Your eyes go wide. “You kept that?”

“I keep records,” he says calmly.

You sputter. “Is that romantic or terrifying?”

“Both.”

“If you want to resign,” he says, voice steady but a little rough around the edges, “I won’t stop you. But not because you’re afraid of being a cliché.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want to ask you out,” he says plainly. “Not as my assistant. Not as part of work. Just you.”

“You said you don’t know what we are,” he says, “but I do. I’ve known for a while.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“So,” he says, walking over and placing the folder on the coffee table in front of you. “Take your time. Think about it. Resign or don’t. But I’m not letting go just because this is complicated.”

You stare at the folder, then up at him. He looks impossibly calm, like he’s already built a ten-year plan around whatever your decision ends up being.

“…So,” you say weakly. “If I do resign, does this mean I can start sending flirty emails to your work account?”

His mouth twitches again. “You already do.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yesterday’s ‘Don’t forget to eat or I’ll come drag you out of that meeting myself’ email? Very romantic.”

You gasp. “That was threatening! That was a threat!”

“Exactly,” he says smoothly. “Romantic.”

God help you.

You’re falling in love with a terrifying CEO and apparently… he’s already ten steps ahead.

The days that followed felt both painfully normal and wildly new. You still arrived before him, arranged his schedule, reminded him of appointments, sent out emails like clockwork, and somehow anticipated every unspoken instruction without skipping a beat. You were still you, still the best assistant he’s ever had—and both of you knew it.

But now, tucked between all the efficient workflow and clinical professionalism, you were also… interviewing your potential replacements.

“I’m not saying she wasn’t qualified,” you muttered once, shuffling candidate files across your tablet as you stood beside him during a short elevator ride, “but she called you ‘Mr. Jeonwoo’ twice, and I refuse to subject the office to that level of chaos.”

Wonwoo didn’t even look up from his phone. “So you’re screening for people who can pronounce my name?”

“I’m screening for people who won’t accidentally get fired on their first day.”

That earned a glance. A small smile.

He didn’t say it out loud, but you could see it in the way his jaw tightened every time you walked into his office with an updated shortlist.

You also learned very quickly that flirting from Jeon Wonwoo was dangerous because it didn��t come in loud declarations or showy gestures. It came quietly, smoothly, when you least expected it.

You didn’t even glance up from the stack of resumes in your hand when you spoke, but your voice was quieter this time. Less joking. “You hate it, don’t you. Interviewing my replacements.”

There was a beat of silence, just the sound of a soft sigh and the scratch of his pen stopping against paper.

Then, low and almost reluctant, he mumbled, “I do.”

That made you look up.

“I hate it. Every time I sit across from them and they talk about time management and efficiency and how good they are at color-coding calendars, I just—” He paused, jaw tightening. “—I want to ask them if they’d know to cancel a meeting just from the way I shift in my seat. Or if they’d remember I like my coffee black when the forecast says rain.”

You stared.

He finally looked at you then, straight in the eye.

“But,” he continued, quieter now, “if that’s what it will take for us to work… if you think I’m worth the risk… then I’m okay with it.”

You felt your heart thump once—loud and sharp—before catching in your throat. There it was.

That steady, no-nonsense Wonwoo voice. The one he used when finalizing major business deals. The one that didn’t entertain doubt.

But this time it was about you.

Your hands folded the resume in your lap without realizing, and you whispered, “That’s not fair.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s not?”

“You saying stuff like that—” You gestured vaguely at him, at the air, at the space between you. “—like you didn’t just casually drop an emotional landmine across my perfectly organized work brain.”

Wonwoo almost smiled. “So now I’m a distraction?”

“The biggest one.”

A beat. Then a low chuckle.

“Then it’s only fair,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“You’ve been distracting me for years.”

You groaned, tossing the resume at the table like it offended you. “You were supposed to be emotionally constipated, not—whatever this is.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, the edge of his mouth tugging up just a little. “Surprise.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you wanted to slap his shoulder or kiss him.

Probably both.

“I still don’t know if this is smart,” you muttered. “We’re walking a very thin line, you know.”

“I know.”

“It’s going to be messy.”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“And if we crash and burn, I’m not just risking my job, I’m risking my pride. And I have a lot of pride.”

He leaned in a little closer. “I know.”

“You’re really not going to try and talk me out of this?”

“Why would I? I’ve waited long enough.”

That shut you up. Completely.

Finally, you mumbled, “You should come with a warning label.”

“I do,” he said. “You just ignore it.”

You shook your head, trying not to smile. “You’re annoying.”

“Still worth the risk?”

You glared.

He smirked.

He stood up slowly, smooth and deliberate, walking around the table until he was in front of you. You tilted your head back slightly to follow his movement, heart ticking up a notch when he crouched down at your side, eyes leveled with yours.

“I don’t want you to give up anything for me,” he said, voice low and steady. “Don’t choose between me and your career if that’s what’s happening here.”

You opened your mouth. Then shut it. Then tried again.

“But…” You hesitated, the word hanging on your tongue like it weighed more than it should.

“But that’s the thing,” you said, voice quieter now. “I’d choose…”

His gaze didn’t move. Didn’t push or pressure. Just waited. Calm. Patient.

“I’d choose you,” you finally said, barely louder than a whisper.

Wonwoo didn’t move at first. Just blinked—slow, like he had to take in every word. Then his mouth lifted at the corner, the smallest, softest smile.

You added quickly, “But I’m still finishing this project, okay? Don’t get all weird and noble. I’ve worked too hard to leave everything half-done.”

His brow arched in amusement. “So you’re choosing me but with conditions.”

You scowled. “Obviously.”

A soft laugh escaped him then, low and genuine. His hand reached out, carefully, fingers brushing yours before curling around them. “Okay,” he said. “Conditions accepted.”

And there, in the middle of your chaotic work desk, his knees probably going numb from crouching and you blinking back whatever overwhelming feeling was trying to crash over your chest—you smiled.

Really smiled because you knew this wasn’t just about choosing him.

He was choosing you, too.

You were half-kneeling by the side cabinet in his office, going through the rack of emergency suits and coats he kept in there. As usual, muttering to yourself as you folded one of the sleeves more neatly.

“Who just shoves an Armani jacket like this? The hanger is right there—why do I even bother—”

You were so caught up in your organizing and light scolding that you didn’t hear him approach. Didn’t notice the soft thud of his polished shoes on the carpet.

Until you felt arms slowly wrap around you from behind.

You froze.

Completely, utterly froze.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you said slowly, voice already filled with warning, “what do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t let go. In fact, he just rested his chin lightly on your shoulder and sighed. “It’s after hours,” he mumbled, voice lower, deeper, rougher from fatigue. “And I’m tired.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Blinked.

“Okay, first of all,” you started, heart beating way too fast for your liking, “you can’t just sneak up on people and hug them like that—this is still your office. Technically still a place of work.”

He didn’t budge. Just nuzzled a little closer and sighed again.

“Wonwoo,” you said, more breathless this time. “Let go.”

“No.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I.”

“This is not professional,” you tried.

“Good thing it’s after hours,” he replied easily.

“I could file a complaint.”

“You could,” he said, finally leaning back just a little—but his hands stayed firmly on your waist. “But you won’t.”

You turned around slowly to face him, hands still awkwardly stuck between you and his chest. He looked tired, yes, but there was something else in his eyes. Something soft. Something dangerous.

You swallowed. “Why are you doing this now?”

“Because you’re leaving soon,” he said simply. “And I… don’t want to miss any more moments I could’ve had.”

“So this is your plan? Surprise-hug me into staying?”

He smirked, just a little. “You always did respond to blunt gestures.”

You laughed despite yourself, pressing a palm to your face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still here,” he said.

You scowl at him, cheeks burning as your palms press lightly against his chest, trying—and failing—to keep some kind of distance.

"Once I’m not your secretary," you mutter, almost too fast, your eyes darting everywhere except at his, "I can be… I don’t know. Whatever you want me to."

Wonwoo blinks, caught off guard—but only for a second. Because then, he smiles. That rare, boyish smile. The one that softens every sharp angle of his intimidating face. The one you’ve only seen a handful of times and never this close.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he pulls you into an even tighter hug. His arms wrap around you securely, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head gently.

You immediately panic.

"Yah—Jeon Wonwoo!" you squeak, muffled slightly against his chest. "I just said not yet! What are you doing?!"

"You said 'once you’re not my secretary'," he says, completely unbothered, his voice warm and annoyingly smug. "Not that I couldn’t get a head start."

"That’s not what I meant and you know it!"

He chuckles low in his throat. "You're rambling again."

"Because you’re hugging me! Like this!"

"I’m practicing."

"For what, exactly?!"

He leans his chin on top of your head, his voice a low hum. “For the moment I can finally call you mine without crossing any lines.”

You go quiet. Your entire face burns hot, your mind frantically searching for a snarky comeback—but nothing comes. Because deep down, maybe you don’t want to deflect this time.

After a long moment, you sigh, defeated, forehead gently bumping against his chest.

"You’re really good at this, you know that?"

"Only when it comes to you," he murmurs, and now you really want to scream.

But you don’t. Not tonight.

Instead, you let him hold you for just a little longer.

The office is quieter today.

Not because the work has stopped—Jeon Corporations doesn’t sleep—but because it’s your last day, and everyone knows it. People greet you with bittersweet smiles. The ones who have worked closest to you offer their heartfelt goodbyes, some even trying to convince you to reconsider.

But your decision was already made.

You spend the morning tying up the final pieces of the major project you've been overseeing. Your replacement shadows you through the day, still stiff and nervous under Wonwoo's piercing gaze. You catch yourself shooting the poor kid a sympathetic smile more than once.

By lunch, you’ve cleared out your desk. The clock ticks toward the end of the day, and for once, you don’t rush to meet him outside his office when his final meeting wraps. You don’t straighten his tie, or hand him his coffee, or recite the rundown of his next appointments.

You just wait quietly at your desk, finishing the last bit of documentation before sending the final email.

You hear him call for you from his office so you go in.

Wonwoo stands there, in his suit and tie, every bit the composed CEO the world knows him as. But his eyes are different. There’s something quieter in them. Something only you have ever seen.

“So… this is it.”

You nod. “This is it.”

He walks to his desk, pulls open the drawer, and places a sleek black envelope on the table between you. You blink down at it, puzzled.

“It’s a… contract? A letter? A declaration” he says casually. “Nothing official. Just something I’ve drafted. It outlines your new role.”

Your heart stops. “My what?”

He smiles faintly. “Girlfriend. Possibly more later. Benefits included. No office politics. No need to call me ‘sir’ anymore, unless you want to.”

You laugh, a sound that comes out half-hysterical, half-teary. “You made a contract?”

“Would you expect anything less from me?”

You roll your eyes, trying to pretend you’re not fighting the urge to cry again. “This is ridiculous.”

“I wanted to do this the right way,” he says. “I didn’t want to take a single risk with you while we were still bound by titles. But now... there’s nothing in the way.”

You look up at him—your now former boss, the man who made you fall so impossibly hard without even trying.

“I’m off the clock,” you whisper.

His lips curve. “Then I can do this.”

And he kisses you.

No more tension, no more pretending. Just him. Just you.

Finally.

When the two of you break apart, you’re both smiling. This right here should feel scary, stepping into this unknown with the man who knows you best.

You look at the letter again, smiling bigger “You reall drafted a whole contract like this is some business deal?” you tease him

“What? Were you expecting a heartfelt love letter stating every reason why I’m choosing you? I can make a whole book of that if you want”

You laugh at that, Wonwoo watches you like you’re a sight he’ll never get tired watching.

“So let’s say I’m interested in this vacancy… as your girlfriend…” you trail off.

Immediately his arms tightens around you, lifting you slightly off the ground making you laugh again before he settles you back on the ground without letting you go

“You’re overqualified, I’d promote you straight to wife” he says with the kind of seriousness hed use in the boardroom.

You roll your eyes but ending up grinning and blushing anyways. You stand on your tiptoe, your lips capturing his again.

And as the day ends, a new one will begin.

You might not be there beside him during the work hours, but now you’ll be there with him for a lifetime.

2 YEARS LATER

His office looked exactly the same.

Same towering bookshelves, same minimalist elegance, same silent efficiency humming in the walls—but if someone paid enough attention, they’d notice the change. They’d see it in the framed photo on his desk, the faintest hint of a smile that used to never be there, and the soft black velvet box in the drawer closest to him, now empty.

Jeon Wonwoo had just ended another brutal, back-to-back meeting with the overseas partners. He leaned back in his chair, rolling his sleeves up slightly, the sharp lines of his suit jacket discarded on the coat rack. The meeting had run long—again—and now he was due for a dinner event in exactly thirty minutes.

He glanced down at his cufflinks and sighed.

Of course.

He grabbed one, trying to angle it just right, but it slipped from his fingers. The sound it made hitting the desk was soft, but his jaw clenched. It wasn’t about the cufflinks. It was the fact that you used to do this for him—quietly, without asking, without needing a cue.

Before he could try again, his new secretary knocked once and stepped in. “Sir, your—”

He didn’t even look up. “Let her in.”

The secretary blinked. “Ah, yes. Of course.” She stepped back.

And then you walked in.

Not in workwear. Not with your tablet or schedule. But in an elegant blouse tucked into black trousers, a soft leather handbag slung over your shoulder, and a ring—his ring—glinting proudly on your finger.

“Wow,” you said, raising a brow as you shut the door behind you. “Still fighting with the cufflinks?”

Wonwoo didn’t smile, but there was that look—eyes softening just a fraction, the corners of his mouth threatening a curve.

“I had it under control,” he said.

You snorted, crossing the room with the same confidence you had when you worked under him—but this time, it wasn’t duty guiding your steps. It was something else entirely.

“Sure, Mr. CEO,” you teased, reaching for his wrist. “Let me help before you bend another rule and go to a black-tie dinner with rolled sleeves.”

He extended his arm wordlessly, watching the way your fingers expertly slid the cufflink into place.

“How was the meeting?” you asked.

He exhaled through his nose. “I’d rather have been anywhere else.”

“Even stuck in traffic with me singing off-key?”

He gave you a side-glance. “That’s not nearly as bad as you think.”

You smirked, moving to his other cuff. “You’re just saying that because you proposed after one of those car rides.”

“And because you said yes,” he said quietly. Remembering that night just a few weeks ago.

Your hands faltered for a moment, not because you were unsure—never that—but because it still floored you, how easily you could fall for him all over again in small moments like this.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I did.”

The second cufflink clicked into place. You smoothed the sleeves of his dress shirt and adjusted his collar. When you looked up, he was already watching you again.

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” you murmured, voice almost lost in the room’s quiet. “Sometimes I still feel like I’m going to hear my name called out over the intercom, or get a panicked email because you refused to reschedule three back-to-back meetings.”

“Sometimes I miss having you around the office,” he admitted. “But then I remember I get you all to myself now.”

You laughed, eyes rolling. “Is that your way of saying you miss me managing your life?”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “But I prefer you managing our home.”

That made your heart skip.

“I’m still adjusting to that,” you said. “Every time I walk past your closet, I think, ‘Wow. The Jeon Wonwoo actually shares closet space.’”

He gave you a dry look. “Barely. You’ve taken over the left half.”

You grinned. “I make you better, admit it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “You always have.”

There was a knock on the door again—his driver this time.

Wonwoo didn’t look away from you. “Give me five minutes.”

The driver left. You turned to grab your bag but paused as he caught your wrist, gently pulling you back to him.

“I have ten minutes before I need to smile for cameras and pretend I care about golf again,” he said, voice lower. “That gives me enough time to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” you asked.

“That no meeting, no title, no company… will ever mean more to me than you.”

You blinked once. Twice.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“I loved you when you were my assistant,” he whispered. “I love you now. And I’ll still love you when you're yelling at me because I left the fridge door open again.”

“You mean when,” you mumbled, lips curving.

“When,” he agreed.

He kissed your temple. “Now come on, fiancée. You’re making me late.”

“You love it when I make you late,” you quipped.

He smirked. “Only for you.”

And just like that, you walked out of his office—not as the woman behind the CEO, but as the woman beside him.

Jeon Wonwoo was nothing if not sure.

And he was sure of you.

There would be whispers. There always were. To some, this story was a fairytale—the secretary who fell for the CEO. To others, it was scandal—a power imbalance, manipulation, an easy narrative painted by people who didn’t know the first thing about the truth. Some would say he gave you everything.

But they’d be wrong.

Because you were there when nothing was certain. You were the one behind the early days the quiet, ugly, unglamorous chaos no one ever saw. The nights you stayed until 3 a.m. running numbers, making calls, stitching together crises before they unraveled.

They didn’t know that without you, Jeon Wonwoo didn’t function—not the way they knew him.

They didn’t know how many nights you reminded him to eat, to sleep, to rest his eyes. That you were the one who taught him how to slow down. How to feel.

And now, years later, you were no longer the assistant with your name tucked under his email threads. You were the woman standing beside him in a room full of sharks, still the calm at the center of his storm.

170 notes · View notes

fy-wonwoo · 7 days ago

Text

250528 wonwoo and jeonghan sent coffee trucks for carats at the mcountdown prerecording today!

jh & ww: wonjeongdae is treating* carats!(thunder)

t/n: wordplay with thunder, which sounds similar to ‘ssonda’ meaning to treat someone

the messages on the coffee trucks they sent:

thun: no matter what good thing it is, to carats

der: we want to give more

- some yoon guy, some jeon guy

carats ❤️ we’re sincerely celebrating seventeen's 10th anniversary too! we’re always thankful and happy that you’re by our side~ let’s continue to healthily and enjoyably play together for a long time! we know very well that you all… alo alo t.h.u.n.d.e.r alo alo… want us to be there on such a happy day

trans: 1, 2

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #jeonghan #seventeen #svt #happy burstday #250528

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vernonverse · 1 day ago

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📲 Raising Us | wonwoo x f!reader | (4) the third year | 004

Paring: wonwoo x f!reader. Genre | tags: smau, series, non idol!au, best friends (idiots) to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, slow burn, angst, pinning, fluff, humor/comedy. Warnings: none.

Summary: On the night of your eighteenth birthday, you and Wonwoo made a pact to lose your virginities together. Ten years later you're co-parenting your unexpected child while figuring out where you stand with each other.

Status: on-going.

―📝 Series masterlist.

― Taglist

navigation | main masterlist | permanent taglist | previous chapter

Every ask & comment gives me life 💗 If you’re enjoying it, don’t forget to reblog—helps so much and gets the fic out there!! Sharing is caring before you scroll!

💌 Taglist: @eisaspresso, @christinewithluv, @armycarat2612, @ziidino, @vernons-wifey12, @jihoonsbbygirl, @wonvsmile, @smiileflower, @lukeys-giggle, @my-atiny-kookie-rkive, @toplinehyunjin, @skz-elle, @ateez-atiny380, @aeerio, @paranoid-borderline-insane, @chariseiswriting, @blxcknwhite-lady, @maryseesthings, @max-1404, @minhui896, @jembem, @blaycke, @livelaughloveseventeen, @butterfliesliving.

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joonsytip · 6 days ago

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Beyond the Transcripts || Wonwoo [Teaser]

Pairings: Ceo!Wonwoo x Legal Head!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, exes to co-parents to lovers au, second chances au.

Synopsis: Jeon Wonwoo, the calmest and untainted CEO to ever exist, gets his world shaken up when he finds you as the legal department head at his own company and your only registered family is a little guy who resembles him a bit too much.

Alternatively, you are smooth in onboarding Wonwoo into your son's life but problems arise when he tries to slide back into yours.

Warnings: Themes of co parenting, mentions of past difficult pregnancy, misogynistic slurs being used at workplace, minor accident, profanities, heartbreak, secret identity, workplace jargons.

Drop Date: Anyday next month.

Check out the masterlist for THAT'S SHOWBIZ, BABY! Please support all the amazing writers white putting up so much effort!

Thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin, Ally for coming up with this beautiful banner (even after I ate her ears off and made her do several banners for this one), I'm really grateful!

TAGLIST is open, send an ask/comment to be added.

At the sound of the door closing, your gaze lifts.

Wonwoo walks towards you, in large but steady strides, just as you have remembered. He stands in front of you, at a distance. Your gazes meet and the time stops.

Wonwoo hasn't changed much, his eyes hold the same depth. He, you assume, still likes his hair side parted with locks clipped so they don't fall on his face. The scent of the same perfume lingers in the air, the one which he had always claimed as his signature. The frame of his glasses aren't geometric anymore, he goes with pilot nowadays.

And before your mind could trace back on the memory lane deeper, you decide to slip into the momentum.

Because, he's the man, who had broken your heart, had left you alone to pick up the pieces on your own.

“Mr. Jeon”, you bow to him, giving a small smile. Your heart beats erratically, as you continue to speak, “You must be busy so I won't take much of your time.”

The title you call him by is foreign to Wonwoo's ear. It always used to be strings of sickly sweet nicknames.

He watches the changes time has brought upon you. You no longer seem like the carefree law major from back then. You, no longer are the girl who'd cry over smallest things, speak the first thought that comes to your mind.

While Wonwoo loses touch with the current predicament, you line up several documents on his desk in specific order.

It's exacting because you used to know him so well, maybe even now if he hasn't emerged entirely as a different person. You see the way his eyes are on you but the dilated pupils give away the fact that he's running miles in his head.

So you wait, wait for him to come back to the present, to this moment.

And he does, a few minutes later. You can tell it by the way his gaze locks into yours right away, his lips curling down in slightest.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

His voice strikes a chord in your heart, before it reaches your ear. The voice that you used to love so much, the voice that sung you to sleep on restless nights, the same voice which called when your name, it summoned your soul.

Years of preparation goes down in the trench as you're about to break down at the first set of words you hear from him.

But you can't, you're not the same vulnerable Y/N, who used to strip bare in front of her lover.

“I think we have more important matters to discuss, Mr. Jeon.”, you speak through your gritted teeth.

“But you promised you'd answer all my questions.”, Wonwoo reminds you calmly.

“And this is what you want to know?”

“Out of all things, first and foremost, yes this is what I want to know.”

You find it ironic. Trapped in by his words, you answer truthfully, “I just can't sum up everything but I have been holding it in, thanks to Wonjae.”

Wonwoo perks at the mention of your son's name, well his as well.

“The first document is about me as Wonjae’s legal guardian, consenting to you conduct a DNA test.”, your gaze is gentle as you point at the bunched papers, “I don't want any questions, any fingers raised at my son in future.”

“But I don't–”

“I request you to conduct one.”

Your sharp tone shuts up Wonwoo completely, though not willing, he nods.

His gaze sweeps across the rest of the document which promotes him to ask, “What are the rest of these documents for?”

Your eyes turn somber. You've studied law, practised it. You know all the nooks and crannies and you're a mother who is raising her son against all odds.

“The second document is a contract that states that if you don't want to be associated with Wonjae then the fact that he’s your son will be concealed and never brought up by me. If I ever do so”, you turn the pages and show him the space left blank, “You can fill up the breach statement and penalties in this section, I have left it blank.”

Wonwoo gapes at you in disbelief, “What do you think you're trying to pull here?”, he speaks in a low tone but you can hear the agitation ringing in it, “What do you think of me, Y/N?”

You don't deem it necessary to answer his questions and proceed further to explain the contents of the last document.

“If you have any concerns about me working in your company and see me as a threat or identify me as someone who has the potential of stirring up trouble then you can ask me to resign but under the conditions that I work here until I find another job.”, your attitude has shimmered down from being hyper to nonchalant, now that you have done your part.

Wonwoo observes you in disbelief and at himself in distaste because he's the reason behind the version you are currently showcasing.

“Also, I have prepared the clauses for custody just in case you're willing to share responsibilities in future. I'll bring it to you if you decide to be a part of Wonjae's life.”

You say terms, speak things all in legal language and Wonwoo just listens.

“I would have suggested you to run these documents by your legal team to cite any negotiations or catch any flaws but unfortunately, it would mean that I'd be the person you'll need to work with.”, you smile sardonically, “So it would be better if you contact someone who's not affiliated to this company.”

He wonders if things would have been different if he stayed and in the midst of the storm that whirlwinds in his head, he asks, “Why didn't you tell me that you were pregnant?”

What a simple question to ask. But are all questions meant to have an answer?

“Would you have stayed?”

Silence falls upon.

You give him a knowing smile, “Just when you were leaving, I asked you something, do you remember?”

Yes, he remembers, all of it. The way you had chased him to the station, your face wet, eyes bloodshot from crying. The way you just stood in front of him, mumbling the last question you had as the train entered the platform.

“What if I have something important to tell you, something that could change our lives? Would it make you stay?”

“There’s nothing left to salvage. Nothing's gonna stop me from leaving. This is the end for us.”

It answers his previous question. It makes sense now, he didn't only leave you, he had abandoned his unborn child as well.

Some fences cannot be mended, some bridges can't be cemented. Just like this relationship, which once bloomed beautifully, is now wilted.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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woneko · 2 days ago

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seungcheol and his clingy cat wonungi

#svtsource #svtcreations #seventeen #s.coups #wonwoo #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #jeon wonwoo #*gifs #this gifset is for me and the few other cheolwonists out there ♥

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supi-wupi · 3 days ago

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Babysitters - OT13

members: OT13, joshua is dating reader tho synopsis: 13 men. 1 (slightly injured) Nie. And no supervision. After a minor injury, you’re stuck at home on doctor’s orders. The members take turns “taking care of you” — but each one has a wildly different idea of what that means. Chaos (and cuddles) ensue. wc: 2.5k genre: fluff, comedy warnings: none <3 a/n: some fluff before i put out my angst fic i’ve been working on…

PROLOGUE

It started with one clumsy step and a triumphant, “I bet I can carry all the groceries in one trip!” It ended with a twisted ankle, three bruised egos (Jeonghan definitely laughed first), and doctor’s orders to stay home for a week.

You’d expected Joshua to take care of you — boyfriend privileges and all. But with SEVENTEEN on a semi-break before their comeback and Joshua insisting “You deserve rest, and I deserve revenge for that ‘falling mid falsetto’ comment,” the boys proposed a rotation system.

You agreed. You were wrong.

—

DAY ONE: The IncidentIt was a simple slip on the wet kitchen tiles. Nothing dramatic. No cinematic slow-motion fall. Just you, a mug of hot cocoa, gravity, and betrayal. The result? A sprained ankle and strict doctor’s orders: “No weight-bearing activities for two weeks.”

You hadn’t even texted the SEVENTEEN group chat before Joshua burst through the door with wide eyes and a plastic bag of your favorite snacks.

“Nie,” he said, scandalized. “You’re not allowed to get injured. That’s my thing.”

“Pretty sure it’s Jeonghan’s thing.”

“Exactly. This is throwing off the group dynamic.”

You were about to tell him he was being dramatic when he kissed your forehead, tucked a blanket around you like you were a human burrito, and whispered, “The others will be here soon.”

You blinked. “The what now?”

—

Case File 01: S.COUPS (Code Name: Commander Dad)

Objective: Establish order, ensure safety. Possibly overcorrect. Notes:

Y/N is not to move. At all.

Any and all movement must be approved by me or God.

Installed three baby gates. Unsure if necessary but effective deterrent.

Hid their phone to prevent “sneaky” late-night scrolling. (They found it in 12 minutes.)

Made them soup. No one mention I used too much garlic. We’re all fine.

—

“You’re treating me like I’m three years old,” you protested as Seungcheol carefully adjusted a cushion behind your back.

“Three-year-olds aren’t this stubborn,” he muttered, tucking the blanket around your feet again.

“You’re doing the blanket tuck for the third time.”

“Because you keep kicking it off like a rebellious teen. I saw your foot twitch.”

“...It was itchy.”

He sighed, lovingly exasperated, and handed you a spoon. “Eat your garlic bomb soup.”

—

Case File 02: JEONGHAN (Code Name: Chaos Nurse)

Objective: Provide emotional support (and chaos). Notes:

Told Y/N I’d take care of them. Immediately spilled juice on their shirt.

Brought tarot cards. “To spiritually cleanse your ankle.”

Replaced pain meds with jelly beans as a prank. Got scolded. Worth it.

Said, “Pain is temporary, being babied by thirteen men is forever.” May have accidentally started a war over who gets the next turn.

—

Jeonghan arrived with a velvet pouch and too much enthusiasm.

“We’re doing tarot.”

“I don’t need spiritual guidance,” you said. “I need an ice pack.”

“This is spiritual guidance,” he insisted, dramatically laying down a card. “The Fool. That’s you. For thinking you could walk unsupervised.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it, placed it behind your head, and winked. “See? Still helping.”

—

Case File 03: JOSHUA (Code Name: Shuji, Ult Boyfriend, Certified Overthinker)

Objective: Provide attentive, balanced care. (Also low-key compete with the others for “Best Caregiver 2025.”) Notes:

Made a color-coded care schedule. Gave everyone laminated copies.

Y/N said “You’re being extra.” I said “You used to call this thoughtful.”

Played soft guitar songs to lull them to sleep. It worked. I cried.

Almost kissed their ankle better. Stopped. Questionable boundaries.

Jeonghan says I’m “doing the most.” He’s not wrong. I just love Nie.

—

Joshua tiptoed into the room with a tray of cut fruit shaped like stars and hearts.

“Breakfast in bed,” he said, placing it gently on your lap.

“Joshua,” you deadpanned. “You carved that apple into a rose.”

He sat beside you, beaming. “You deserve beauty even when you’re cranky.”

You stared at him. “Are you trying to win a boyfriend award?”

“Is it working?”

...Yeah. Kinda.

—

Case File 04: HOSHI (Code Name: 10:10, Tiger Carer Supreme)

Objective: Keep spirits up! Distract from pain using performance! Notes:

Performed a one-man musical titled “The Ankle Who Lived.”

Included backup dancers (DK and Dino). They didn’t agree to this.

Made a healing chant. Was told to “sit down” after two verses.

Reenacted “Romeo and Juliet” with sock puppets. Called it “Toe-meo and Ankle-et.”

Y/N smiled. Mission success.

—

You blinked as Hoshi burst into the room in a cape made of bath towels.

“Presenting: The Legend of the Brave Ankle!”

You covered your face. “Soonyoung, I will throw this pillow at you.”

“No one silences art!” he cried, launching into a song about ligaments.

By the time he finished, you were laughing so hard it hurt.

Worth it.

—

Case File 05: MINGYU (Code Name: Golden Retriever in a Lab Coat)

Objective: Cook. Clean. Care. (Try not to cry if Y/N calls me ‘sweet.’) Notes:

Made four different meals. Burnt the toast. Panicked. Apologized five times.

Did laundry. Folded their socks into perfect balls. Felt proud.

Almost cried when Y/N said “thank you” and patted my head.

Accidentally knocked over their crutches. Panicked again.

Tried to knit them a scarf. It turned into a pot holder. Still gave it to them.

—

Mingyu nervously peeked into the room. “Hey, I made soup… and also lasagna… and also gimbap… I didn’t know what you’d want.”

You blinked. “Gyu, are you stress-cooking again?”

He set the plates down sheepishly. “Nooo. Maybe. A little. I just want to be useful.”

You tugged on his sleeve. “You’re literally the most useful.”

He beamed so hard you were afraid his dimples would break the space-time continuum.

—

Case File 06: WOOZI (Code Name: Jihoon, Ankle Security Analyst)

Objective: Monitor Y/N’s recovery through sound-based methods. (Also protect their ears from Hoshi’s musicals.) Notes:

Created a playlist of healing frequencies and lo-fi beats.

Banned clumsy members from approaching the ankle within a 1-meter radius.

Accidentally made a sad ballad titled “Ligament Lament.” It slaps.

Y/N cried. I panicked. We’re okay now.

I’m not babysitting. I’m health-auditing. There’s a difference.

—

You were listening to one of Woozi’s playlists when he walked in holding a tablet.

“I’ve made adjustments to the sonic environment of your room.”

“…You mean you turned the bass down?”

“It’s optimized for tissue recovery,” he deadpanned.

“…You just didn’t want me to hear Hoshi’s toe-based musical again.”

He didn’t respond. But you saw the smallest smile twitch at the corner of his mouth.

—-

Case File 07: DK (Code Name: Dokyeom, Certified Sunshine™)

Objective: Infuse vitamin DK into recovery plan. Make Y/N laugh at all costs. Notes:

Sang every time I entered a room. Including “Hello.”

Brought my karaoke mic. Held mini concert. Setlist: “Can You Feel the Ankle Tonight.”

Made Y/N laugh-snort juice through nose. 10/10 victory.

Got too into character pretending to be a nurse. Gave myself a name badge: “Dr. Smile.”

Accidentally wore two different socks. Claimed it was “an ankle sympathy statement.”

—

DK poked his head in with a glittery mic. “Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior: healing?”

You groaned. “If you sing one more pun about ligaments—”

“🎵 LIGAMENT ME LOVE YOUUU 🎵” “SEOKMIN.”

You couldn’t help laughing, even as you flung a pillow at him. He caught it. Bowed. Took a dramatic exit. He came back five minutes later with a full lightstick setup. You gave up.

—

Case File 08: SEUNGKWAN (Code Name: Diva Caretaker, Chaos Concierge)

Objective: Keep Y/N emotionally regulated. Monitor hydration. Judge everyone else’s methods. Notes:

Took away their phone for 20 minutes so they’d nap. Y/N called me a tyrant.

Replied “You're welcome” when they said “You're annoying.”

Made them rate my babysitting on a scale of 1 to 17. Got a 15. Fuming.

Threatened to revoke my services unless I got a perfect score.

Y/N raised it to 16.8. Victory.

—

“Drink water,” Seungkwan ordered, placing a bottle on your chest.

You squinted. “You’re not the hydration police.”

“I am when you’re convalescing with the enthusiasm of a wilting fern.”

“Stop using SAT words on me.”

“You’re the one who said I was ‘overqualified to babysit.’”

You held the water like a white flag. “…Only because you’re secretly my mom.”

“Thank you. Now drink.”

You did. Begrudgingly.

—

Case File 09: VERNON (Code Name: Vernon, Ankle Philosopher)

Objective: Provide chill environment. Reflect on pain as a temporary construct. Notes:

Said “That sucks” when I heard what happened. Profound.

Brought snacks, all beige. Beige foods are comforting.

Played video games next to them. Said it’s “healing adjacent.”

Forgot their injury for 2 hours. Y/N had to remind me. Felt bad. Got them ice cream.

Said “Pain is part of the human condition.” They threw a grape at me. Fair.

—

Vernon slouched in a beanbag next to you. “Want to watch a documentary on time perception?”

“…What happened to cartoons?”

“I figured we could reflect on the impermanence of pain.”

“…Hansol.”

“Yes?”

“I have a sprained ankle. Not a midlife crisis.”

He nodded, completely unbothered. “Still applies.”

—

Case File 10: JUN (Code Name: Junhui, Caretaker of Vibes)

Objective: Provide holistic ankle healing through mystery, magic, and mild confusion. Notes:

Brought incense. Told Y/N it was ankle cleansing smoke.

Said I summoned the “Spirit of Bounce” for ligament flexibility. They told me to go home.

Slid in wearing a silk robe. Said it was for the “ritual.”

Fed them fruit by hand. Called each piece a “health gem.”

Y/N didn’t stop me. Possibly enjoying this.

—

Jun glided into the room, humming a nonsensical melody.

“Behold. The Ceremony of Recovery begins.”

You blinked at the bowl of grapes he held.

“…You just want to hand-feed me again.”

“I’m helping your healing energy flow. It’s very advanced.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even massaging my foot.”

“That’s phase four. We’re in phase two: fruit fusion.”

You popped a grape in your mouth. “Carry on.”

—

Case File 11: THE8 (Code Name: Minghao, Zen Guardian of Rest)

Objective: Maintain peace. No one disturbs Y/N unless spiritually justified. Notes:

Set up a meditation zone around the couch. Used salt lamps. Y/N approved.

Made tea. Wouldn’t let them drink it until they’d done 3 deep breaths.

Gave them a sketchbook. Said art helps pain leave the body.

Threatened to exile anyone who brought loud snacks. (Looking at you, Seungkwan.)

Whispered “Rest is sacred” before every nap. They started whispering it back.

—

You stretched on the couch under the softest blanket you’d ever felt.

Minghao approached, wordlessly handing you a warm mug of tea.

“Is it chamomile?” you asked.

“It’s balance,” he said, completely serious.

“…You made that up.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he placed a small sketchpad in your lap.

“Draw your feelings. And if you draw Seungkwan yelling, I won’t stop you.”

—

Case File 12: DINO (Code Name: Maknae on Babysitting Duty)

Objective: Prove responsibility. No injuries under my watch. Keep things cool. Chill. But Responsible. Notes:

Arrived with a clipboard. Felt powerful.

Told them I was “Head Babysitter.” They laughed. Slightly offended.

Played calm board games. Avoided Monopoly. Not safe.

Made a healing dance. Showed them. Got embarrassed. They clapped. Felt better.

Might’ve called my mom for babysitting tips. Confidential.

—

Dino plopped onto the armchair across from you, clipboard in hand.

“I have logged your water intake and screen time. You're doing great.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan… are you tracking me like a baby Sims character?”

“I’m just being thorough,” he said, proud. “Also… did you like the dance I showed you?”

“It was cute.”

He turned red. “I was going for cool.”

“Cute is cool.”

He looked away, smiling into his clipboard.

—

Case File 13: WONWOO (Code Name: Enigmatic Reader, Silent Protector)

Objective: Provide calm, bookish presence. Protect Y/N’s peace. Say little. Do much. Notes:

Brought three books: one for them, one for me, one “just in case.”

Sat beside them reading for two hours. Neither of us spoke. 10/10 hangout.

Made them tea. Didn’t ask if they wanted it. Knew.

Helped set up ankle pillow fortress without a word. Y/N said “thank you,” I said “mm.”

Y/N said I’m the “most relaxing babysitter.” Noted.

Didn’t realize they fell asleep leaning on me. Stayed still for 40 minutes. Didn’t mind.

—

When you opened your eyes, Wonwoo was exactly where you left him — beside you, book in hand, glasses perched on his nose, your head resting on his shoulder.

You blinked blearily. “How long was I out?”

“About forty minutes.” “You could’ve moved me, you know.” “You looked comfortable.” “…You’re really good at this.”

He glanced at you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Joshua said to take care of you. So I did.”

—

Case File 14: JOSHUA (Code Name: Shuji, Original Penpal, The Boyfriend™)

Objective: Leave Y/N alone for one week so they can rest. Enlist the members to help. Regret everything immediately.

Post-Mission Debrief:

Initial plan: Assign one member per day. Easy. Simple. Low-maintenance.

Reality:

Soonyoung tried to bubble wrap their entire apartment.

Jeonghan tricked them into taking medicine with a Bet You Can’t challenge.

Seungcheol turned it into an intensive recovery boot camp.

Jihoon brought a decibel meter.

Seungkwan accused someone of poisoning Y/N with over-seasoned soup.

Dino somehow… choreographed a “healing dance”?

Jun… who told Jun he was allowed to build a pillow kingdom and declare himself ruler?

The8 may or may not have reset their chi by smacking their knee with flower petals.

Vernon tried to explain Renaissance-era injury recovery theories??

Mingyu cooked a seven-course meal, shattered a plate, then cried.

Dokyeom sang to them like they were dying.

Wonwoo said six words all day. One of them was “tea.”

Conclusion: Y/N was cared for, coddled, fed, emotionally damaged, spiritually blessed, and possibly mildly concussed from the Dino “Trust Fall of Healing.”

Would I do this again? Absolutely not.

Did they look like the happiest human in the world when I picked them up and they handed me a folder titled “Seventeen’s Babysitting Adventures: Please Publish Posthumously”? Yes.

…Worth it.

—

You were curled up on the couch, blanket tucked around your legs, when Joshua finally sat beside you, a smug smile on his face as he slid a binder onto the table.

“Is this… a mission report?” you asked, eyeing the sticker-covered folder labeled ‘CASE FILE 17: COMPLETE’.

“Every operation needs closure,” he said with faux seriousness. “Also, Seungkwan tried to submit a formal complaint about Vernon’s healing playlist. This needed documenting.”

You flipped through pages filled with member notes, post-it stickers, and doodles. “Wonwoo literally just wrote ‘tea.’ That’s his whole entry.”

Joshua laughed. “Yeah, and it was the most effective one.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for mobilizing an entire group to take care of me. That’s probably not in your job description.”

He tilted his head down to kiss your temple. “You’ve taken care of me for twenty years, Nie. One week of chaos was the least I could offer.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “Next time, though…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe just… fewer flower petals. And less yelling. And no more anatomy lectures from Vernon.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

—

Epilogue Note (Handwritten by Joshua):If you’re reading this, Y/N has officially survived Operation: Babysit the Love of My Life. If they’re still alive, they deserve a prize. If they’re not, check under the couch — Mingyu probably dropped a lasagna tray.

Mission Success. Penpal safe. Heart full. End report.

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uriwoofactory · 3 days ago

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He did this for me. Wow 10/10

excitement's a bonus 🧨

#wonwoo #fywonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #svt wonwoo #wonwoo svt

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suuhzie · 3 days ago

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Predador II — Jeon Wonwoo

Essa é a segunda parte da saga inspirada na franquia de filmes "predador", espero que vocês gostem assim como gostaram com o Joshua. Não sei se terá uma próxima (muito provavelmente sim). Aqui o link da primeira parte. Enfim, eu não sou muito de falar em notas, mas espero que gostem de tudo e que possam comentar também. Peço perdão pelos erros ortográficos, não sou muito boa com o português. É isso, beijos.

"Wonwoo mais desprezava na vida a raça humana, uma espécie tão repugnante e inferior. Mas, quando ficou completamente obcecado por uma humana, percebeu que estava enganado."

Contagem de palavras: 12.5k

「 QUANDO WONWOO PISOU nesse planeta pela primeira vez ele odiou tudo, principalmente os seres humanos, nunca entendeu como pessoas tão fracas e inferior conseguiam matar alguns deles, todos eram tão insuportáveis que Wonwoo sentia vontade de matá-los muito rapidamente. Todos eram repugnantes. Ele não gostava de nenhum, sempre sentiu menosprezo e nojo, se pudesse exonerava todos de uma vez. Ele não escondia o ódio e a repugnância que sentia. Wonwoo nunca participou de caçadas desse planeta, mas vinha para acompanhar e torcer para os seus amigos íntimos, gostava de vê-los em partidas. Wonwoo preferia outras espécies mais fortes, que valiam a pena caçar e lutar. Ele era um blood, a hierarquia mais alta na pirâmide, logo, não precisava caçar humanos fracos e chatos para conseguir algum mérito. Ele tinha tanto ódio que não suportava ouvir aquelas vozes, sentir a fraqueza deles. Não entendia o porquê de seu amigo Joshua Hong se interessar por uma humana, sendo que em seu planeta existia tantas fêmeas bonitas e mais fortes. Até hoje achava um desperdício um blood como ele ficar com uma humana fraca como aquela.

Isso, até ele retornar ao planeta para dar apoio e suporte aos seus alunos e amigos, que resolveram se inscrever na caçada da terra. Wonwoo sabia que eles ganhariam, sempre seria assim de qualquer forma, então ficava na plateia assistindo tudo e vendo a partida. Mas dessa última vez ele fez diferente, acabou saindo do hotel onde ficava hospedado para conhecer a cidade onde estavam, um pouco melhor desse planeta terra. Era verão, eles sempre vinham nessa temporada do ano, então estava sempre quente. Ele viu tudo, conheceu lugares e precisou concordar que nem tudo era feio, existia algumas coisas bonitas, mesmo com tanta destruição. Então Wonwoo viu algo que realmente chamou a sua atenção e ele percebeu que nem todos os humanos eram iguais. Ele estava admirando você passando pela multidão, estava com outras amigas enquanto voltavam de alguma festa, estavam arrumadas demais. Você não estava bêbada, mas ajudava suas amigas a andarem, tentando levá-las para casa.

Wonwoo jurou que ele só ficou curioso em você, tentando saber se iria te ajudar ou não, era apenas isso que ele queria. Mas no final estava enganado, completamente enganado. Ele não te ofereceu ajuda naquele momento, achando melhor te seguir devagar, vendo você deixar uma amiga em casa e a outra também. Depois disso, suspirou fundo e voltou para casa, muito mais apressada do que antes, evitando passar por becos escuros e calçadas, assim como lugares com presença masculina. Wonwoo percebeu que você estava com medo de alguém fazer algo contra você, ele estudou sobre isso, descobriu que os homens faziam coisas extremamente proibidas, o que causou ainda mais a raiva dele. Mas ele estava aqui agora, logo nada aconteceria com você, pelo menos ele não deixaria. Ele estava sendo apenas amigável, certo? Só queria garantir sua segurança até sua casa.

Novamente, foi o que ele achou. Quando viu você chegando em casa, abrindo as portas e trancando, Wonwwon ficou longos dez minutos do lado de fora, olhando cada movimento de dentro da sua casa e decorando a rua e o local. Pronto, agora que ele garantiu sua segurança já poderia voltar, nunca mais te veria, certo? Errado! No dia seguinte, logo pela manhã, ele voltou para a frente de sua casa, esperando alguém sair primeiro. Mas primeiro foi o seu pai que saiu — ele supôs que fosse seu pai — e meia hora depois foi você. Ele viu seu fardamento e continuou te seguindo, para saber até onde iria. Dessa vez era um lugar muito perto, um supermercado onde você trabalhava como empacotadora. Novamente ele entrou ali apenas para ficar te vendo e sabendo o que você fazia da vida. Depois de oito horas seguidas ele também te seguiu até a academia, percebendo que aqui era o ponto de encontro com suas amigas. Sua vida não era muito movimentada, você ia para o trabalho, academia e às vezes saía com as amigas. Pronto, apenas isso.

Mas então porque Wonwoo ficou interessado em você? Ele não conseguia entender porquê estava voltando na sua casa todos os dias, te seguindo igual um cachorrinho, tentando proteger você desses humanos imundos, sem saber como te abordar. Ele não queria te assustar, obviamente sabia que você só sabia sobre a caçada através dos jornais, nunca participou de uma. Wonwoo até pensou do jeito mais simples, falar com você, perguntar se era solteira, te conhecer melhor e convidar para sair. Todavia, quando ele falasse que era um dos predadores, você ficaria assustada com ele, iria hesitar e recuar, evitaria qualquer tipo de aproximação. Era exatamente por esse mesmo motivo que Wonwoo escolheu o jeito mais difícil, convidando você para participar da caçada. Foi assim que Joshua fez e era assim que Wonwoo também precisava fazer. Não pensou que diria isso um dia, mas entendia seu amigo, agora sabia o porquê dele se interessar por um humano. Wonwoo também estava muito interessado agora, conseguiu notar como as espécies eram completamente compatíveis, mas com poucas diferenças, eram mínimas.

Você era tão linda que se tornou impossível para Wonwoo não se sentir atraído, era difícil para ele te imaginar com outros humanos, sua vida seria com ele. Ele iria te levar para o planeta dele e cuidar muito bem de você, merecia tudo de bom, ele era um blood, ocupava a maior hierarquia, ninguém estava acima dele. Logo, sua vida seria como de uma princesa, não precisaria se preocupar com nada, mesmo que o odiasse durante dias, semanas e meses, logo iria passar, seria apenas vocês dois depois, você iria gostar dele com o passar do tempo. Sem contar que ele não hesitaria em ajudar sua família, mandaria dinheiro todos os meses se você quisesse, ele era muito rico, afinal, dinheiro não seria o problema. Além disso, o dinheiro da partida seria todo direcionado aos familiares, era uma tradição dos caçadores, sempre deixar uma quantia em dinheiro para os familiares das vítimas.

Wonwoo não tinha mais nada no que pensar, ele fez a inscrição na partida e entrou em contato com o governo, informando sobre o convidado que gostaria de caçar/lutar junto. Ele contou aos amigos depois, escutando como mais brincaram com ele do que parabenizaram, afinal, de todos, Wonwoo era o que menos gostava de humanos, nunca tendo participado de nenhuma dessas caçadas. Foi uma surpresa e tanto para eles saberem que ele demonstrou interesse em alguém. O papel foi para a sua casa duas semanas depois, faltando algumas semanas para o início. Wonwoo percebeu que muitas pessoas fizeram a inscrição, assim como os ingressos tinham se esgotado em menos de duas horas. Quando as notícias de que um blood iria caçar, todos ficaram ansiosos para assistir a partida, Wonwoo e os demais amigos eram bem populares no planeta, mesmo ele não participando, os humanos que ganhavam conheciam todos os blood, mesmo sendo uma raridade alguns deles participar. Esses, amigos de Wonwoo, ainda estavam em aprendizagem para conseguirem chegar até a hierarquia dele.

Ele perguntou como você ficou quando recebeu aquela carta, como ficaria depois que ele falasse que não iria te matar, mas sim levá-la embora? Qual dos dois você prefere? Wonwoo esperava que você fosse com ele, nada da sua vida iria mudar, você apenas iria para um lugar melhor, tudo seria melhor onde ele te levaria, esperava que você aceitasse aquela proposta. Até porque não existia uma outra alternativa, você era de Wonwoo agora, mesmo com um simples convite, pertencia a ele. Isso o deixou feliz, saber que tinha você, depois de um mês te seguindo e se escondendo, tudo isso valeu a pena. Ele precisava arrumar alguma desculpa boa para quando fosse te explicar o porquê da sua escolha, não gostaria de parecer um idiota, você até ficaria com medo dele. Mas Wonwoo não negaria se você falasse que ele estava obcecado por você — até porque estava mesmo —. Wonwoo não esperava por isso, mas agora que aconteceu porque ele recuaria? Estava mais do que ansioso agora.

A rotina dele estava muito perto, poucos meses, ele também colocou a culpa nisso, ele só estava te seguindo pelas ruas porque seu cheiro era muito bom, acabou atraindo ele com força. Mas isso também foi apenas uma desculpa dele, você era extremamente atraente e bonita, o cheiro foi apenas um ponto a mais que ele estava precisando lidar agora. Você odiaria saber que ele tinha uma rotina, entrava no cio e procurava por parceiras, mas ele também esperava muito que você se sentisse atraída pelo cheiro dele, aceitasse fazer isso. Wonwoo jamais te forçaria a nada, isso estava fora de tudo, ele nunca forçaria uma mulher a nada, isso ia contra os seus princípios. Quando chegasse ao seu planeta natal, iria conversar com Joshua, pedir conselhos a ele e sua mulher.

Wonwoo passou as mãos pelos cabelos, olhando para o relógio na parede e percebendo que faltavam justamente vinte minutos para a caçada começar. Ele perguntou como estavam as coisas na arena, você estava bem? Tinha alguém mexendo com você? De qualquer forma ele mataria todos eles sem pensar duas vezes, você seria a última sobrevivente do processo. Wonwoo esperava que você não ficasse com raiva dele, estava fazendo isso para garantir um futuro bom a você. Ele sabia que você não era muito estável, gostaria de garantir um futuro melhor ao lado dele.

NO OUTRO LADO DA CIDADE você ainda estava assustada com tudo isso, seria a primeira e provavelmente última vez que estaria participando disso, não sabia como funcionava, tampouco como iria sobreviver. Há duas semanas tinha recebido um papel do governo, informando que você tinha sido convidada para participar dos jogos, pensou que tinham entregado errado, mas ao notar seu nome, data de nascimento e local onde morava ficou tão abismada que não conseguiu terminar de ler, seu pai fez isso por você, completamente animado. Ele era um fanático pelos jogos, assistia todos na arena, idolatrava os alienígenas e torcia para todos eles. Tentou participar de muitas edições, mas nunca passou, era extremamente difícil passar, apenas os melhores faziam isso. Seu pai praticava diversos esportes por causa disso, gostava de lutas para conseguir matar um futuramente. Não os Blood, ele tinha plena consciência de que não conseguia, mas os em aprendizados ainda conseguiria. Quando ele viu que você tinha sido convidada por um blood, ele teve um misto de emoções, te abraçou, sorriu, ligou para os amigos, foi tanta alegria que não cabia no peito.

Enquanto você, tudo o que fez foi chorar, chorou muito porque sabia que iria morrer, seria seus últimos dias viva, não sobreviveria por muito tempo. A animação do seu pai também te deixou tão triste que você explodiu com ele dizendo “eu vou morrer, pai! Como você está feliz com isso?”, mas ele não se importou, apenas te respondeu com “vai morrer com mérito, meu amor, todos vão saber que você participou dos jogos. Você vai ser contemplada pelo bairro!” Mas não aguentou escutar aquilo e se trancou no quarto, durante duas semanas seguidas, você não foi mais para o trabalho, ou academia, não falou com seus amigos ou saiu do eles. Estava completamente presa em casa, apenas procrastinando, acabou sendo demitida, mas não se importou também. Iria morrer de qualquer forma, então porque gastar seu tempo indo trabalhar.

Você apenas saia do quarto para comer ou tomar água, não assistia mais com seu pai — coisa que vocês faziam todas as noites —, assim como também evitava falar com ele. Felizmente todos os dias ele saia para o trabalho e os treinos de luta, quando voltava você subia para seu quarto e evitava vê-lo. Certa vez ele foi até você, bateu em sua porta mas você não atendeu, ainda com raiva do que ele falou, como se não se importasse com você. As coisas ficaram difíceis desde que sua mãe resolveu ir embora, então esperava que ele fosse mais paciente e cuidasse de você. E ele fez isso, depois dos dezoito anos você precisou encontrar emprego e ajudar nas despesas da casa. Ele deveria ser mais protetor com você, dizer que iria no seu lugar, argumentar contra esse alienígena, dizer algo. Mas na verdade seu pai ficou muito feliz disso, já que ela não conseguia participar, sua filha estava trazendo orgulho a ele.

Quando o dia da a caçada chegou, você não esboçou reação alguma, acordou no mesmo horário de antes, tomou seu café da manhã, um banho, arrumou a casa e ficou sentada, assistindo televisão enquanto via as horas passando. Seu pai não foi trabalhar nesse dia, pediu uma folga para te assistir e ficar torcendo para você, ele nem estava se importando com sua morte, estava feliz de você participar, era um orgulho. Mas você estava triste pela sua morte precoce, começou a viver agora, tinha tão pouco tempo de vida. De tarde um carro parou na sua casa, tinha o símbolo do governo, logo percebeu que eles estavam aqui para te buscar. Você fingiu que eles não estavam ali, então subiu para o quarto enquanto seu pai recebia eles animadamente. Uma hora depois você desceu, sem falar nada com ninguém, muito menos com seu pai, foi até o carro e entrou, vendo os oficiais vindo logo atrás, também entrando na frente.

Durante o percurso ninguém comentou nada, você ficou admirando as ruas agitadas, pessoas indo para a arena assistir os jogos. Todos estavam tão felizes, estavam torcendo para os participantes, provavelmente seu nome também estava na lista, imaginou as pessoas rindo. Não era a primeira mulher que iria participar, mas sabia que ninguém iria acreditar no seu potencial. Vocês entraram por outro lugar, onde a entrada era restrita, eles te guiarão até o ambiente de onde seria a caçada. O público era completamente masculino, você era a única mulher presente, o que te assustou muito, era um pesadelo ser a única mulher em uma sala com diversos homens. Você percebeu os olhares, alguns rindo, outros comentando na sua pulseira, era diferente, algo exclusivo, você era proibida de ser tocada por eles ou pelos outros alienígenas. Apenas Wonwoo tinha esse mérito. Não acontecia muito, poucas pessoas se tornavam a caça de um predador, você ainda não entendia como ele te escolheu.

Você desviou o olhar quando um dos homens olhava demais para você, estava com uma arma nas costas e outra nas mãos, ficou te observando de cima a baixo. Todavia, ele parou quando os portões abriram e alguns alarmes dispararam, você se assustou e acabou se afastando, mas percebeu quando todos começaram a correr, sem rumo. Você deveria fazer o mesmo também? Então começou a correr sem saber, sem rumo, vendo a floresta, a escuridão, apenas a iluminação da lua. Esse era o território deles, era assim que eles sobreviviam e matavam, será que nenhum desses humanos percebeu que era assim que eles ganhavam? A lua não ajudava muito, principalmente com as nuvens cobrindo grande parte do tempo, você só estava correndo sem rumo, desviando das árvores, não conseguia ver ninguém

No momento em que os gritos começaram você ficou assustada, não sabia se era dos humanos ou desses alienígenas, principalmente os disparos. Dava para ter uma noção de que os homens já estavam morrendo, só não sabia onde estavam esses alienígenas, porque Wonwoo ainda não te procurou? Ele estava brincando de gato e rato? Deixando você correr para dar-lhe uma mínima esperança? Quando você passou de uma árvore, percebeu o movimento, então alguma coisa muito pesada atingiu sua cabeça, mais especificamente em sua testa, você caiu no chão. Sua cabeça doeu tanto que sentiu uma dor de cabeça, além disso, o sangue começou a escorrer pelo seu rosto. Alguém ficou em cima de você, apontando uma arma na sua cabeça, mas você estava tão inconsciente que não via muito bem.

— Então você é a caça de Wonwoo? Porque aquele blood te quer? O que ele viu de especial em você? — ele te forçou no chão novamente, colocando a arma na sua cabeça. — Responde, porra, o que você é do alienígena?

— Eu não o conheço! Eu nunca vi ele na vida. Eu também não sei o que ele quer comigo.

— Não acredito nisso. Você não tem habilidade alguma, os bloods não gostam desse tipo de humanos. Ele planeja te levar embora? Poucos deles gostam das mulheres humanas, principalmente os bloods. Wonwoo nunca participou de nenhuma edição, justo agora ele participa e ainda escolhe uma caça. Ele te quer, caralho!

— Me solta. — Você tentou sair do aperto dele, mas estava presa e sangrando, não conseguia fazer muita coisa. Ele destravou a arma, você ficou paralisada novamente, com medo dele puxar aquele gatilho.

— Eu não tenho pena de te matar, Wonwoo te quer por algum motivo. Cadê ele? Porque não está protegendo sua linda caça? — ele desceu a arma pelo seu corpo lentamente. — Você é muito bonita, deve ser isso que atraiu ele. Uma humana tão linda assim não se encontra com muita facilidade. Se Wonwoo te quer, então sabe que outros homens podem querer também. Mas eu diria que ele foi burro ao te trazer para um lugar cheio de homens. Você se torna a caça de todo mundo aqui, sabia?

— Para com isso. — você o empurrou, conseguindo levantar quando ele caiu para o lado. Quando tentou correr, acabou ficando tonta, se desequilibrou um pouco. Mas ele puxou seu cabelo com força, te forçando para trás, você sentiu a dor.

— Onde está Wonwoo, ein? Ele não vai vir atrás de você? — ele bateu no seu rosto novamente e você caiu no chão, quase desmaiando, não entendia porque ele estava fazendo isso.

Você viu o vulto passando atrás dele, logo em seguida o homem caindo e sendo arrastado para longe. Você não conseguiu mais ver depois disso, mas sentiu os respingos de sangue no seu corpo, logo sabia que ele estava morto. Suspirou fundo, antes ele do que você, mesmo sabendo que agora iria morrer, preferia que fosse pelos alienígenas do que por um homem. Não levantou do chão, até porque estava quase desmaiando, tinha um corte aberto na sua testa e o sangue escorrendo, além disso ele também bateu no seu rosto, o que doeu também. Já que iria morrer, porque continuar lutando? Preferia aceitar sua realidade.

Você viu a figura parada na sua frente, cabelos soltos, roupas coladas e sem arma, você se perguntou se esse era um dos caçadores. Vocês se encararam por alguns segundos, já tinha a certeza de que iria morrer, mas gostaria de saber o porquê da demora. Esse seria o Wonwoo? Ele se abaixou, ficando quase na sua altura, seu coração palpitou bastante, com medo dele. Além disso ele era muito bonito, você não deixou de perceber isso. Alisando seu rosto, as mãos ficaram sujas de sangue, ele era gelado, aconteceu um atrito entre vocês. Wonwoo analisou você, descendo os olhos e depois subindo, foi quando você percebeu que ele não faria nada contra você. Pelo menos não agora. Wonwoo levantou você, como se não pesasse nada, ele era tão forte. Ele passou suas mãos pelo pescoço, prendendo suas pernas em sua cintura. Você estava fraca demais, foi ele quem te segurou completamente. Você pousou a cabeça em seu ombro, fechando os olhos de sono, se iria morrer agora, então tudo bem. Já aceitou sua realidade.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

O barulho de alguma coisa apitando foi o que chamou sua atenção, você estava acordando aos poucos, vendo o novo ambiente onde estava, era diferente dos demais, aqui você vinha poucas vezes, nos raros momentos. Tinha apenas você na sala, o que achou estranho, pois sempre dividia com mais quatro pessoas, um ambiente muito bonito e uma confortável cama para você. As despesas aqui deveriam ser muito caras, não sabia como teria dinheiro para bancar isso. Além disso, você estava viva! Como isso aconteceu? Como você não morreu naquele dia? Aquele alienígena te salvou sem explicação nenhuma, ele seria o Wonwoo, ao qual te convidou? Obviamente sim, levando em consideração que nenhum outro iria te caçar, assim como não iriam te ajudar. Mas porque ele fez isso? A intenção não era te matar?

Tinha lido uma matéria alguns dias atrás onde dizia que alguns alienígenas estavam começando a se interessar pelos humanos, não apenas em caçar, mas romanticamente também, já que as espécies eram compatíveis. Então levando essa ideia em consideração, a única forma dele conseguir você seria convidando para participar dos jogos. O governo era muito rígido sobre isso, não tinha como voltar atrás, você era de Wonwoo a partir do momento em que ele te escolheu, como se fosse algo à venda. Além disso, ele tinha a opção de levá-la embora caso não te matasse, mas isso valia apenas para as mulheres. Então os planos dele sempre foram esse. Você era de Wonwoo agora.

— Você acordou. — você olhou para a porta, encontrando seu pai, estava sorrindo. — Você já estava dormindo havia dois dias.

— Sério?

— Sim. Quer usar o banheiro? Água? — você apenas concordou, então ele te ajudou a levantar e te levou até o banheiro. Em seguida, ele te ofereceu um copo com água, depois te levou para a cama novamente. — Sua testa ainda doi? Você pegou cinco pontos. — você levou as mãos até a testa, sentindo as talas que cobriam o corte, não tinha sentido até agora.

— Eu achei que não fosse nada demais. Como você pagou as despesas desse hospital?

— Eu não paguei, foi o Wonwoo quem fez isso. Ele arcou com todos os custos e principalmente os medicamentos, queria garantir o melhor atendimento para você. Esses alienígenas são muito atenciosos e preocupados. — você olhou de volta para seu pai, fingindo surpresa. Então estava certa, ele te queria.

— Ele esteve aqui?

— Eu não o vi até agora, sempre que eu chegava ele já tinha saído. Mas eu estou tão orgulhoso de você, sobreviveu e ainda lutou, eu sabia que você era forte.

— Eu não lutei, foi Wonwoo quem me ajudou. O meu predador me ajudou.

— Você precisa agradecê-lo por isso.

— Não. Nós temos que ir embora. Agora. — Você levantou da cama, se segurando na mesma para não cair, já que ficou tonta.

— Mas por quê? Os médicos ainda não te deram alta.

— Eles iriam dar assim que eu acordasse. Estou bem.

Você trocou apenas as roupas pelas o que seu pai trouxe, ele segurou sua mochila, colocando nas costas. O mesmo foi com você até a recepção do hospital, falando com uma das atendentes, ela ficou preocupada de você sair sem uma alta definitiva, mas não tinha como te impedir. Você pediu o táxi assim que um parou na entrada, trazendo uma mulher que passava mal, seu pai te ajudou a entrar no carro e ficou no banco de trás, ainda preocupado de você sair sem alta.

Mas sua preocupação estava em outra coisa, não nisso, estava viva afinal. Ele saberia onde você morava? Você presumiu que sim, até porque ele te encontrou em algum lugar, achava que também tinha te seguido até aqui. Você chegou em casa dez minutos depois, seu pai pagou o homem e te ajudou novamente, abrindo a porta para você entrar e tomando cuidado para não se machucar novamente. Você pensou que essa era a forma dele em dizer que estava feliz por você continuar viva e em casa, mas tudo bem. Você pegou a mochila, percebendo que não estava pesada, já que teria que evitar isso.

— Eu vou para o meu quarto, por favor não me incomode.

— Você vai ter que falar com ele em algum momento, não adianta se esconder disso. Você é dele agora. — ele te ajudou a subir as escadas, você também precisaria evitar isso em alguns dias, mas seu pai não estava te ajudando.

ERA DE NOITE quando a campainha de sua casa tocou a primeira vez, você levantou da cama devagar, indo até a janela para saber se conhecia. Todavia, não viu mais ninguém, a pessoa já tinha entrado e você ficou nervosa, muito mesmo. Não estava escutando nada, mas você achava que era ele, obviamente ele vinha até você. Como não? Você era de Wonwoo agora, não tinha como escapar disso, estava diante de uma lei estúpida que o governo implementou. Você iria voltar para a cama quando a porta do seu quarto abriu, mas era apenas seu pai entrando, com um sorriso no rosto. Mas você percebeu que ele estava nervoso, sabia quem estava aqui.

— Ele quer falar com você.

— Pai, eu já disse que não quero falar com ele. Você sabe o que ele é.

— Você não é mais minha diante da lei, _____, ele te possuir agora. Você queira ou não.

— Eu não sou uma mercadoria. — Você jogou o livro que estava lendo contra ele, mas seu pai desviou, suspirando fundo.

— Pare de ficar com raiva, vai acabar te prejudicando. E ele vai entrar, você querendo ou não. — Você pegou o copo de vidro com a água que ele trouxe e jogou no chão, perto dele. Seu pai saiu, sem fechar a porta, mas logo em seguida ele entrou. Estava diferente de antes, cabelos bem arrumados, roupa casual, e você percebeu como ele era alto, muito mesmo, seu físico forte que te mataria só em você piscar.

— Eu já disse para você ir embora. — pegou seu relógio e jogou nele, mas Wonwoo segurou, já que era grande. Ele fechou a porta, caminhando até você, que acabou recuando um pouco. Já estava chorando de desespero, não poderia estressar, seria pior e voltaria para o hospital.

— Eu só vim te ver, fique calma, você não pode se estressar. Saiu do hospital antes de receber alta, os médicos ficaram preocupados. — A voz dele era tão máscula e grossa, sem contar que ficou surpresa por ele entender sua língua materna, falava tão bem.

— Eu sei o que você quer. Vai me levar embora da terra. Dizer que gostou de mim e me levar para outro planeta, mas eu não quero ir. Eu não sou sua mercadoria, quero ficar na minha casa, com o meu pai… Você não pode fazer isso.

— Calma, respire um pouco. — Wonwoo ficou na sua frente, ele segurou seus ombros para te acalmar um pouco. Mas você ficou muito mais nervosa do que antes, ele cobriu completamente sua visão, isso te deixava com medo. — Você precisa se acalmar, estressada só vai piorar sua saúde. Não vamos conversar nada agora, só quero que você se acalme, esses pontos ainda são muito recentes. — ele levantou seu queixo, começando a alisar seu rosto agora, olhando no fundo dos seus olhos para te passar mais segurança. E por incrível que pareça, isso realmente funcionou um pouco, você ficou tão segura que acabou cedendo um pouco, sem contar que estava ficando com dor de cabeça. Ele caminhou devagar até sua cama, deitando apenas você, cobrindo seu corpo com o lençol e sentando ao seu lado. Wonwoo sorriu e você percebeu como ele era bonito.

— Porque você não me matou?

— Porque eu não queria te ver morta, essa nunca foi a minha intenção. — você suspirou, a dor de cabeça começou a latejar um pouco, já tinha trocado os curativos, seu pai te ajudou. — Peço desculpas, estava caçando seu cheiro no meio de tantos outros e acabei me atrasando. Minhas intenções não eram com que outros te machucassem, eles não podiam fazer isso de qualquer forma.

— Você matou ele? — Wonwoo assentiu, você fechou os olhos um pouco. — Como você me viu?

— Uma noite eu estava conhecendo a cidade e te vi levando suas amigas para casa, você estava segurando elas. Deixou primeiro uma, depois a outra e foi para a sua casa. Eu te segui durante todo esse tempo, fiquei curioso sobre você. — você se lembrava desse dia, tinham saído para comemorar e suas amigas ficaram bêbadas, menos você, já que era fraca para o álcool.

— Então foi tudo bem planejado, você me usou como sua caça apenas para ter-me. Porque você gostou de mim?

— Não era os meus planos, nunca me interessei por humanos antes, nem mesmo enquanto caçava. Mas você chamou minha atenção, tentando ganhar a vida, sorridente e simpática, tão pequena e frágil. Eu senti o instinto de te proteger, até agora sinto. Eu quero te proteger desse mundo, de tudo. Eu quero você. — você abriu os olhos, voltando a olhá-lo, Wonwoo estava mais próximo de você, tocando seus cabelos e cheirando os mesmos.

— E agora você me tem, não é mesmo? Vai me tirar dessa casa, do meu pai e amigos, desse planeta. Vai me levar para longe sem saber da minha opinião. Vai fazer tudo o que quiser no seu mundo, eu não vou estar segura lá. Aqui eu tenho minha família, para quem correr.

— Você não precisará correr para ninguém, a não ser para os meus braços quando estiver com medo de algo. Por mais que ambas as espécies sejam quase iguais, nós não somos monstros como os homens. No nosso planeta ninguém bate em uma mulher ou a força a nada, respeitamos todos igualmente.

— Então me deixe ficar aqui, eu não quero ir com você, não quero sair daqui. Não me force a isso, por favor! — Wonwoo suspirou, deslizando as mãos até seu rosto.

— Desculpe, mas essa parte não sou eu quem decido, foi o próprio governo quem mandou eu partir com você em quatro dias. Seremos obrigados a ir, ou você vai morrer.

— Apenas eu?

— Sim. Eu deixei uma quantia de dinheiro muito boa com seu pai, como parte do contrato, além disso ficarei enviando outros valores para ele anualmente. Você não vai ter com o que se preocupar, ele vai viver bem agora. Eu tenho uma casa muito boa e relaxante no centro do país, você vai gostar de lá. — você fechou os olhos novamente. — Meus pais vão amar você, principalmente minha mãe, sinto que você gostará deles também. Ela sempre sonhou em conhecer minha futura companheira.

— As pessoas na arena estavam torcendo por você, sem contar que os participantes ficaram com medo quando anunciaram um blood na partida. Você é muito forte, as pessoas têm medo. Aquele homem estava curioso para saber porque Jeon Wonwoo tinha me escolhido, afinal sou fraca. No final ele estava certo, você estava interessado em mim. Mas não entendo porque é justo eu?

— Meu amigo Joshua também já fez a mesma coisa, levou uma humana consigo. Ele sempre me disse como essa espécie era interessante e diferente, principalmente as mulheres, mas eu nunca dei muita importância. Até te encontrar naquela noite, seu cheiro me prendeu muito em você, então comecei a te desejar.

— Você vai me levar para seu planeta? — Wonwoo suspirou, confirmando logo em seguida, ele não queria falar. Você fechou os olhos de volta, segurando o lençol para te cobrir melhor. — Estou com sono, você pode ir embora?

— Boa noite. Espero que você durma bem e entenda os meus motivos.

— Como eu vou entender, você vai me levar para outro planeta. Eu vou embora! — percebendo que você estava começando a se estressar novamente, Wonwoo levantou da cama, apagando seu abajur e também as luzes ao sair do quarto. Você deitou a cabeça de volta no colchão, cobrindo seu corpo quando o frio que entrava pela janela te atingiu. Ainda estava sem acreditar que iria embora para outro lugar, por causa de um alienígena que se interessou por você. Você o odiava por isso.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Sua cabeça estava bem melhor naquele dia, os pontos não estavam doendo mais do que antes, e a dor de cabeça sumiu completamente. Você acordou de bom humor, mesmo lembrando de tudo o que aconteceu, não queria se estressar novamente, percebeu que isso estava te fazendo muito mal, tinha medo de acabar voltando para o hospital desta forma. Seu pai subiu com seu café da manhã e tudo durante aquele dia, de fato você não sabia o que ele tinha, mesmo o pedido de desculpas não rolando oficialmente, ainda estava cogitando essa possibilidade. Principalmente sabendo que Wonwoo tenha falado com ele a respeito de vocês, seu pai concordaria com tudo que aquele blood falasse, ele admirava muito o mesmo, então vendo-o na sua frente, chegando em um acordo e pedindo seu consentimento, como ele não aceitaria? Wonwoo sabia muito bem como usar as palavras, era muito educado e atencioso. Seu pai sabia que seria a pessoa ideal.

Mas você não queria acreditar nisso, tinha certeza de que ele não seria nada do que estava falando, Wonwoo tinha uma máscara que estava escondendo, você só precisava saber quando ela iria cair. Você ainda estava evitando falar com ele, agradecendo apenas quando trazia alguma coisa, provavelmente agora ele não precisaria voltar a trabalhar, já que o dinheiro que Wonwoo ofereceu era muito, quase um milhão e meio, quem não ficaria ansioso com essa quantia? Ele também te ajudou a trocar os curativos, percebendo que estava um pouco mais cicatrizado do que ontem, logo voltaria ao médico para tirar aqueles pontos. Depois de te entregar o almoço ele desceu, não subindo mais, você ficou sozinha no quarto durante algumas horas, aproveitando sua paz de espírito. A porta do seu quarto abriu depois de um tempo, quando você estava entretida em alguns livros. Não levantou a cabeça, tampouco tentou saber quem era, pela forma como entrava, seria apenas ele, como sempre.

— Como você está se sentindo hoje?

— Melhor do que ontem.

— E seu humor?

— Vai depender do tipo de conversa que teremos. — Wonwoo riu e aquela foi a primeira vez que você ouviu isso, ele era tão sério.

— Seu quarto é bonito. — dessa você olhou para ele, desviando o olhar para o quarto, observando cada lugar. As paredes rosas, ursos na prateleira e em cima da cama, livros nas estantes, uma televisão e guarda-roupas. Isso te deixou um pouco envergonhada, principalmente por ser mais infantil, adolescente, do que adulto.

— Não tem nada demais nele. Como é sua casa?

— Normal, como a de vocês, mas muito maior e bonita.

— E o seu planeta?

— Também não muda muita coisa, é do mesmo jeito. Sem contar que temos o mesmo oxigênio e gravidade.

— Porque você está na terra se não pretendia participar dos jogos?

— Meus alunos, eles são hunter, a patente mais baixa de todas, então acompanhei eles até a terra para os jogos.

— E eles ganharam?

— Dois morreram, mas os outros três ganharam algumas partidas.

— Você ganhou a última partida?

— Não, eu só queria você mesmo, os outros não me interessam. — Wonwoo sentou na cama, suspirando fundo, você ficou envergonhada pelo o que ele disse.

— Amanhã eu vou ao médico.

— Não está se sentindo bem? Eu posso te levar se você quiser.

— É para ver os pontos, não sei quando vou tirar. Se você quiser ir, não tem problema. — Wonwoo assentiu, ele deitou na cama, um pouco abaixo de você, olhando para o teto.

— Você ainda está com raiva de mim?

— Um pouco, não consigo aceitar minha nova realidade, estou parecendo uma mercadoria, sendo entregue de graça. Eu não entendo porquê você fez isso ao invés de falar comigo primeiro.

— A lei do governo não permite que os humanos vão para o nosso planeta, apenas depois de uma caçada, quando o predador tem o direito de ficar com a caça. Iremos passar por um conselho e lá eles irão decidir o que vão fazer comigo. — Wonwoo te olhou, percebendo que você ainda estava muito confusa. — O conselho é como uma suprema corte ou presidentes, eles resolvem tudo, sejam sozinhos ou reunindo outros líderes. No meu caso, por eu ser um blood, eles se reúnem para decidir a minha punição por trazer uma humana ao planeta.

— Então os humanos são proibidos?

— Sim, os homens. Agora as mulheres precisam passar por alguns processos com o conselho primeiro, depois elas ficam com seus companheiros.

— E qual o procedimento?

— Bem, existem muitos, eles quem decidem como será o acasalamento, pois é assim que se inicia um vínculo na nossa espécie.

— Espera, acasalamento? Você está falando do sexo, certo?

— Sim, é um nome universal. Entramos em uma rotina de seis em seis meses, onde procuramos parceiros para acasalar. Quando sentimos uma conexão acabamos criando um laço com a pessoa, onde acontece uma mordida, para marcá-la como nossa.

— Você está falando sério?

— Sim, é algo normal que passamos. — ele novamente te olhou e percebeu seu rosto assustado, suas emoções mudam muito rápido.

— Vocês procuram por parceiras?

— Sim, os que não tem marcas procuram por uma para acasalar. O cheiro atrai muito rapidamente as fêmeas.

— Mas você já tem uma pessoa para ficar com você nesses momentos, certo? Tipo alguém que você marcou e agora é sua? — Você deixou o livro na ponta da cama, levantando o torso para olhá-lo nos olhos, estava curiosa, e acima de tudo nervosa pela resposta dele.

— Você acha que se eu tivesse alguém iria me interessar por você? Seu cheiro me deixou louco, estou realmente te querendo.

— Wonwoo, você não pode me forçar a nada. Se eu não quiser. Você não pode fazer isso.

— Não vou te forçar a nada. Eu não sou como esses humanos da terra, sei respeitar muito bem uma mulher. Se você não quiser, não tem problema, mas será difícil para você também.

— Então você me quis apenas para passar esses momentos com você?

— Não. Eu te quero porque quero ser seu e quero que você seja minha. — Wonwoo olhou para você, de repente ele se virou na cama, indo até você e te prendendo no colchão. Ele ficou por cima do seu corpo, te prendendo ali, você não conseguiu sair. — Você me chamou muito a atenção, eu nunca me senti atraído fisicamente pelos humanos. Mas você foi diferente deles.

— Não sei se iremos ser compatíveis nesses momentos, minha biologia é diferente da sua. Meu corpo não fica com marcas, elas somem com um tempo.

— Não se preocupe com isso, eu te garanto que nada será difícil, ainda somos iguais em tudo. — ele aproximou o rosto de você, achando fofo como estava recuando. Você deitou a cabeça no travesseiro, ficando sem espaço e ele continuou se aproximando, tão perto que a respiração bateu em sua boca. — Você não sente essa atração? A nossa química é forte. Vou te mostrar isso.

Wonwoo te beijou devagar, esperando para saber sua reação primeiro, mas você teve muitas na verdade. Estava nervosa, queria afastar ele, até tentou na verdade, segurando seus ombros e o empurrando, mas Wonwoo era muito mais forte do que você, logo isso não iria bastar. Todavia, você começou a ceder também, a língua dele entrou na sua, ele mordia seus lábios com força, te provocava muito, foi extremamente difícil resistir. Ele tinha uma pegada muito boa, apertando sua cintura com força, deslizando as mãos pelo seu corpo, deixando você no lugar onde estava. Suas mãos subiram para os cabelos dele, sentindo os fios lisos e bonitos, você começou a se sentir estranha por dentro. Ficou excitada com isso, como era possível? Ele só estava te beijando, mas o clima estava tão intenso que era difícil não ficar assim.

Ele era o seu predador, aquele alienígena iria te levar embora apenas para saciar seus desejos, você era apenas a caça dele. Mas porque esqueceu disso quando ele te beijou dessa forma? Porque isso era tão bom? Você queria mais, muito mais do que esses beijos, queria sentir ele por completo, entrando em você. Mas isso era errado, certo? Você deveria ceder a isso, até ele resolver te matar ou devolvê-la para seu pai. Mas você estava dando ainda mais motivos para ele tê-la. Como era tola, ingênua. Wonwoo desceu as mãos pelo seu corpo, tocando sua pele exposta, mesmo com suas mãos geladas, isso ainda era tão bom, não queria parar. Ele puxou seu corpo para baixo, prendendo suas pernas em seu quadril, você sentiu algo muito grande e duro ali, gemeu fraco contra sua boca.

Mas da mesma forma que estava adorando isso tudo, mesmo tentando resistir, Wonwoo parou o beijo para olhá-la, sua respiração estava ofegante, você ficou atordoada em vê-lo. Ele estava tão lindo com aqueles cabelos bagunçados enquanto te fazia senti-lo.

— Não pare agora. — você o puxou de volta, mas Wonwoo parou outra vez, segurando suas mãos.

— Não podemos fazer isso agora. Sinto muito. O conselho quem irá decidir.

— O que? — você movimentou o quadril contra ele, Wonwoo suspirou fundo, mordendo os lábios, fingindo não gostar disso.

— O conselho vai decidir como serão as coisas, então agora eu sou proibido de fazer isso.

— Mas eles não vão saber. — você tentou puxá-lo novamente, mas Wonwoo ainda estava te segurando. — Estamos na terra agora.

— Eles vão saber. Porque se eu fizer isso com você, eu vou te marcar aqui mesmo.

— Então me marque, Wonwoo. Faça como você quiser, por favor. Eu não me importo. — ele quase cedeu, te escutar falando dessa forma deixou Wonwoo muito excitado, principalmente com os seus movimentos contra ele. Você o puxou novamente para o beijo, estava sendo difícil resistir a você, mas ele precisava por agora, não porque estava te rejeitando, mas porque precisava muito seguir as regras do conselho. Se fizesse algo de errado, você poderia acabar se machucando. Eles não hesitaram nisso, ele jamais passaria por uma ordem do conselho.

— Eu não posso. Pelo seu próprio bem. — Wonwoo segurou seu quadril e retirou suas pernas dele, suspirando fundo. Ele sentou na cama outra vez, evitando olhar para você, estava completamente envergonhado. — Quando chegarmos ao meu planeta eu prometo a você que farei tudo o que quiser.

— O problema é que eu não quero ir para o seu planeta, Wonwoo. — você levantou da cama, pegando seu livro e guardando na estante. Agora você estava imensamente envergonhado de tudo, como se entregou a ele tão rapidamente, enquanto jurava que não faria isso, que jamais iria ceder alguma coisa para ele. Você baixou sua cabeça, ainda de costas para ele, a vergonha atingiu tanto seu corpo que até suas bochechas esquentaram. Não sabia que estava tão desesperada assim e por mais que Wonwoo seja bonito, você imaginou que iria conseguir aguentar por muitos meses. Estava enganada! Acabou cedendo na segunda vez que se encontrou com ele. Era vergonhoso.

— Está envergonhada? Por qual motivo? — você olhou para ele.

— Como sabe que estou envergonhada?

— O cheiro. Ele muda conforme as reações que você tem. — Wonwoo levantou da cama, seguindo até você, mas não tinha para onde recuar, estava contra a parede agora. — Eu vou dizer novamente, não estou te recusando, jamais faria isso. Estou apenas protegendo você de alguma coisa, por mais que eles não te machuquem, eles fariam algo contra você. Eu não quero que isso aconteça de forma alguma. — Wonwoo alisou seu rosto, levantando para conseguir ter contato visual. — Depois que tudo isso passar, prometo que te farei minha todas as noites.

— Wonwoo!

— O que foi? Há dois minutos atrás você não estava com vergonha. — você o empurrou para longe, vendo a risadinha que o mesmo soltou. — Preciso te dizer que se caso os médicos te liberem, iremos partir ainda de noite. — você o olhou, mudando completamente de expressão, ele percebeu isso. — Meu tempo na terra passou há dois dias, ainda permaneço aqui pela sua saúde. Mas quando os médicos falaram que você está bem, iremos embora. O conselho está esperando pela gente.

— Eu não quero ir, você sabe disso.

— Você sabe que não tem escolha, teremos que ir ainda amanhã, então arrume suas coisas logo.

— Wonwoo…

— Essas são as regras, _____, você aceitando ou não é assim que funciona as coisas agora. Eu não tenho culpa das regras do seu governo.

— Você tem culpa sim, foi você quem me escolheu sem eu saber de nada. Eu não queria isso.

— Sinto muito, mas esse é o seu destino agora. — Wonwoo parecia muito querer evitar uma briga agora, ele sabia que você estava de cabeça quente, isso te faria muito mal. Wonwoo caminhou até sua porta, segurando o trinco dela, te olhou uma última vez naquela noite. — Leve o que você quiser, eu não me importo. Mas independente se quiser arrumar as malas ou não, você irá embora comigo do mesmo jeito, seja apenas com as roupas do corpo. — ele saiu do quarto, te deixando nos gritos e prantos. Essa era a sua vida agora, você aceitando ou não.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Você não falou com ninguém naquela manhã, muito menos seu pai ou Wonwoo, ainda estava tentando digerir tudo aquilo. Pela manhã foi ao médico e como previsto, ele te liberou e tirou seus pontos, você quase chorou de tristeza quando isso aconteceu, estava esperando por isso, mas ainda tinha esperança dele dar-lhe mais alguns dias em casa. Pela tarde você arrumou suas coisas e decidiu levar tudo o que tinha no quarto, menos a cama e o guarda-roupas, mas o restante levou. Seu pai não iria usar nada disso de qualquer forma, porque deixar aqui se seria mais útil em outro planeta.

Você tomou um banho depois disso e vestiu roupas melhores, seu pai quem desceu todas as sacolas para a sala, ele era a pessoa mais feliz no momento. Você se perguntou se era porque estava se livrando de você ou se um alienígena estava te levando? Mas a pergunta era meio óbvia, levando em consideração a obsessão dele por essas coisas.

Wonwoo apareceu na sua casa uma hora depois, estava em uma carro, onde outras pessoas ajudaram ele a levar todas as suas coisas. Você olhou para seu pai, vendo que ele evitava te olhar também, sabia que ele estava segurando o choro, ele nunca soube esconder as emoções. Você sorriu, segurando o ombro dele, mas percebeu que ele evitou isso, olhando para o outro lado.

— Não se preocupe, voltaremos anualmente para vocês se verem. — você não sabia disso, era novidade, pensou que Wonwoo não iria voltar nunca mais para esse planeta. — Além disso, irei te enviar alguns dinheiro, esse seria o nosso acordo com as famílias. — você sorriu, finalmente conseguindo abraçar seu pai quando ele cedeu um pouco. O homem te apertou nos braços, sentindo seu cheiro pela última vez, ainda segurando o choro, mas você sabia que assim quando saísse por aquela porta ele iria chorar.

— Eu te amo, minha filha. — Essa era a primeira vez que ele dizia isso, então foi uma alegria e animação muito grande. Você voltou a se sentir como uma criança, procurando segurança nos braços do seu pai.

— Eu também te amo. Promete que vai se cuidar, não é? Não quero te ver envolvido em nada errado. — ele confirmou, mas isso já era o suficiente para você acreditar nele, seu pai nunca foi de ser aquele típico pai.

Evitando as despedidas, você saiu pela porta de casa, entrando no primeiro carro que estava vendo, fechando a porta e colocando o cinto de segurança. Foi naquele momento que você desabou em lágrimas, percebendo que seu futuro estava mudando completamente, ao lado de um alienígena que você nem conhecia tão bem. Estava indo para um planeta novo, visto apenas em noticiários, ao lado de um predador que te mataria sem pensar duas vezes. Estava com medo de como seria o futuro agora, mas Wonwoo prometeu tudo do bom e do melhor, certo? Você estava confiando nele, realmente faria isso. Ele entrou no carro cinco minutos depois, muito provavelmente estava resolvendo algumas pendências com seu pai, Wonwoo não te abraçou ou fez algum mínimo contato com você, sentou-se no outro lado enquanto dirigiam para ele. Mas em todo o caminho ele ficou te olhando, tentando saber se você estava bem.

Vocês seguiram até uma nave, muito provavelmente aquelas que usavam e os oficiais do governo que te ajudaram a subir e tudo. Wonwoo iria pilotar aquela coisa, ele não te daria atenção, o que você achou ainda melhor, pois não estava no clima para falar com ele. Não tinha só você naquela nave, outras três pessoas também, você imaginou que seriam os alunos dele, já que o mesmo veio até aqui com eles. Ficou com medo quando aquilo começou a se movimentar, mas era como andar de avião, o que mudava era que isso conseguia sair do planeta. Foi muito agonizante e chato, mesmo lendo muitos livros, você percebeu que aquela viagens durou muitos dias. Wonwoo trouxe comida o suficiente para vocês sobreviverem — principalmente você, ele pensou muito em você —. Não imaginou que esse planeta seria tão longe assim, levando em consideração que esses alienígenas encontraram a terra para começar uma caçada.

Estava de manhã quando vocês finalmente chegaram, você ficou tão curiosa para conhecer tudo que ficou vendo a atmosfera dos vidros. Se não estivesse aqui dentro, você iria jurar que ainda estava na terra, era tão mais verde que você ficou surpresa, o céu tão mais azul que você achou que tinha entrado no paraíso. As árvores enormes, bem preservadas, tudo aqui era bonito. Quando a nave pousou, você foi a primeira a sair, tentando ver melhor o ambiente onde estava, sem acreditar. Ficou maravilhada com tudo, logo você, que não esperava receber esse tipo de visão. Wonwoo quem te segurou para você não sair sozinha, explorando tudo agora. Ele estava te levando para algum lugar, não decorou porque ainda estava surpresa com tudo, você estava respirando, e a gravidade daqui era a mesma da terra, não era pesado e nem leve.

— Animada para conhecer tudo? — Você confirmou, mesmo sem olhar para ele. Já estavam em outro carro, esse muito mais aconchegante, bonito e luxuoso, percebeu que todos os carros eram assim. Eles eram humanos vivendo em outro planeta, como era possível a parte mais pobre ficar na terra enquanto uma parte tão rica estar a milhares de anos luz. — Estamos indo em casa primeiro, meus pais estão nos esperando.

— Como eles sabem que a gente chegou?

— O conselho sempre rastreia as naves que entram e saem. — Ao decorrer do caminho você achou tudo muito lindo, as pessoas vivendo suas vidas tranquilamente, conversando ou sentadas. Uma coisa que você percebeu era que nesse bairro as casas eram tão luxuosas que só faltava serem de ouro, ele parou no meio de uma muito bonita, era a maior que tinha.

— É a sua casa?

— Nossa casa agora. — ele te puxou para dentro, enquanto outras pessoas ajudaram a tirar suas coisas. Agora era tão linda, parecia mais um castelo de tão grande, você se perguntou se eram essas as casas que eles ganhavam ao se tornarem blood.

Lá dentro as coisas eram maravilhosas, tudo na cerâmica é muito bonito, você percebeu que estava na mesma realidade. Se não tivesse em outro planeta, iria jurar que ainda estava na terra, de fato nada mudava. Tudo se parecia com os humanos, até a anatomia, a diferença era em relação ao acasalamento deles, que mais parecia um cio de algum animal. Você visualizou duas pessoas de pé, um casal, muito provavelmente eram seus pais, você notou a semelhança entre eles. A mulher mais velha correu para os braços de Wonwoo, beijando e o abraçando com força, ele sorriu ao apertá-la. Você ficou apenas observando, baixando a cabeça quando o pai dele ficou te olhando. Inclusive, foi ele quem falou de você, apontando e esperando alguma resposta. Você não entendia a língua deles, era algo muito novo e diferente, Wonwoo ficou falando com ele também, você ficou admirando como essa língua deles era bonita, Wonwoo ficava muito gostoso falando.

Você tinha que tirar isso da cabeça agora, estava disposta a não ceder tão rápido novamente, aquilo ficou no passado e agora conseguiria não ceder tão facilmente — você esperava conseguir —. A mãe dele ficou na sua frente, sorrindo e te abraçando também, pelo visto ela ficou feliz de saber quem você era. Você ficou sorrindo por educação, mas gostaria de entender o que eles falaram. O pai de Wonwoo chamou ele enquanto saia de casa, e o mesmo te olhou como se estivesse indo embora. Você foi até ele, segurando sua mão e o puxando de volta, com um olhar de preocupação, não queria que ele saísse agora.

— Onde você vai? Que horas volta?

— Preciso ir ao conselho, eles já estão me esperando. Você vai ficar aqui com a minha mãe. Eu volto logo.

— Wonwoo, não vá agora. Fique aqui comigo.

— Eu preciso, meu amor. Retorno em breve. — ele deixou um beijo na sua testa, soltando sua mão e seguindo seu pai.

A mãe dele voltou a tocar seu ombro, sorrindo e querendo te passar segurança de que tudo ficaria bem. Mas você estava muito nervosa, não sabia o que eles iriam decidir, mas sentia que não seria algo muito bom. Ela te levou até a cozinha, mostrando a mesa farta de comida para você, era tudo novo na verdade, não conhecia nada, mas com a animação dela você resolveu se sentar para comer. Mesmo não entendendo nada do que ela falava, continuou escutando e balançando a cabeça, ela passava mais tempo rindo e apontando para algo. Vocês ficaram ali durante longas horas, esperando pelos dois homens, ela te mostrou a casa completa, você só sabia qual era o cômodo porque foi reconhecendo, mas tinha alguns que não sabia para o que funcionava. O seu lugar favorito seria o seu quarto, você reconheceu que era o seu porque suas coisas estavam lá dentro e algumas funcionárias estavam arrumando. Era tão grande que daria para construir mais uma casa aqui, sua cama parecia de princesa, a janela de frente para o enorme jardim, e o banheiro com um banheiro de hidromassagem. Nunca imaginou que um dia estaria morando em um local assim.

O jardim, por exemplo, era uma área tão extensa que você iria se perder se fosse sozinha, mas não deixou de ser lindo. Tinha plantas de várias outras espécies, que você nunca viu na vida, mas completamente lindo. Uma fonte terminal tão perfeita e grande bem no centro do jardim, a passagem dos tijolos que levava até outro portão, com saída para a rua, existem duas entradas. A mãe dele te levou para outros lugares, como a garagem, onde não mudou muita coisa da terra, apenas as marcas dos carros, essas eram algo desconhecido. Tinha até uma limusine. Você ficou se perguntando quem exatamente era Wonwoo e como ele vivia tão bem assim? Se essa era apenas a casa dele, imaginou como seria a dos pais, ou melhor, dos outros alienígenas. Bem, pelo menos você estava começando a gostar do luxo que teria agora, foi exatamente isso que você pediu ao universo, estava se tornando realidade agora.

Já de noite, você percebeu como a lua ficava muito próxima desse planeta, ela estava em seu formato maior, mas tão perto que você ficou admirando por muitos minutos, até alguém apertar a campainha. Você desceu para a sala, depois de tomar um banho e trocar de roupas. Era Wonwoo quem estava entrando, acompanhando de seu pai e mais duas outras pessoas, você ainda não conhecia eles. Os dois estavam te olhando e um deles se aproximou, você recuou um pouco, com medo. Mas foi Wonwoo quem seguiu até você, afastando ele para longe e ficando na sua frente. Você segurou a mão dele, tentando chamar a atenção do mesmo.

— Quem são eles, Wonwoo?

— São do conselho, estão aqui para vê-la.

— Mas por quê? Você já não resolveu tudo?

— Sim, eles só querem ter a certeza de que ainda não aconteceu nada entre a gente. — você confirmou, percebendo como o aperto dele estava forte, o pai de Wonwoo começou a conversar com eles, tirando a atenção de você. — Vamos subir. — você o seguiu até o quarto, mais especificamente dele, não era tão grande quanto o seu, mas muito bonito. Além disso, ele tinha muito mais coisa. Wonwoo te puxou para um abraço apertado, você sorriu enquanto fechava os olhos e sentia seu calor. Ele estava muito quente. — Tudo ficou resolvido no conselho.

— Que bom! — Wonwoo suspirou fundo, você sentiu que ele queria falar alguma coisa, então esperou calmamente. Provavelmente tinha acontecido alguma coisa. — O que aconteceu? — você segurou o rosto dele, alisando suas bochechas devagar.

— Eles querem ver no momento em que estivemos fazendo sexo. Será amanhã. Um sexo em público. — Você ficou paralisada por alguns minutos, tentando digerir tudo aquilo. Você faria sexo na frente das pessoas, com todo mundo vendo, sua primeira vez com Wonwoo seria na frente das pessoas.

— Como você concordou com isso, Wonwoo?

— Eu não concordei, tentei de tudo, mas esse era o jeito mais simples de resolver.

— Todo mundo vai nos ver em um momento íntimo. Vamos ser assistidos, Wonwoo!

— Eu vou te esconder, ninguém precisa ver você.

— É algo íntimo. Como você pode? — Wonwoo não sabia o que te falar, te ver chocando deixou ele muito mais nervoso, o pior de tudo foi saber que ele era o causador das suas lágrimas. Sempre que você chorava, era por algo que Wonwoo fez, mesmo dessa vez ele não tendo escolha alguma, era apenas ele contra dez, a maioria ganhou.

— Eles não vão te ver, apenas a mim. Vou te cobrir.

— Não importa. Eu estava confiando em você, Wonwoo, acreditei que você faria da melhor forma.

— Eu ainda vou, acredite em mim. — ele estava tentando te tocar, mas você não queria ficar perto. — Por favor, não fique com raiva de mim, eu fiz de tudo. Também não queria essa opção, mas foi a única.

Você ainda não estava acreditando nele, seria difícil, Wonwoo aceitou algo completamente absurdo, isso nunca teria perdão. Ele tentou te tocar, mas você recuava todas as vezes, ainda com receio de tocá-lo, você só queria distância na verdade.

— Por favor, não fique com raiva de mim.

— Vamos fazer sexo em público, Wonwoo. Nossa primeira vez será na frente de várias pessoas. — tentou conter as lágrimas, mas em um momento não conseguiu, elas estavam caindo pelo seu rosto. — Eu nunca vou te perdoar. Eu tinha razão, você seria outra pessoa neste planeta, me trataria diferente do que prometeu.

— Não. Eu não estou fazendo nada disso, nunca vou tratá-la diferente, não importa o planeta. Eu só quero que você entenda que eu não faço parte do conselho, logo, não tenho autonomia alguma para decidir alguma coisa. Eu trouxe uma humana para esse planeta, então preciso passar por alguma punição para conseguir ficar com você aqui. Você consegue me entender?

— Não, eu não consigo. Você concordou com isso, vai todo mundo nos ver, Wonwoo. Eu vou ficar exposta para muitas pessoas.

— Eu prometo a você que irei te proteger, ninguém vai precisar te ver. Além do mais, prometo ser muito breve, assim conseguiremos voltar para casa e ficarmos sozinhos.

— Wonwoo, por favor, não faça isso. — você segurou a blusa dele, olhando em seus olhos. — Por favor, me faça sua agora. — Você ficou na ponta dos pés, puxando o rosto dele para mais próximos. Wonwoo mordeu os lábios, tentando se soltar, ou fingindo fazer isso. — Me marque.

Você o puxou para a cama, deitando primeiro enquanto ele caia por cima do seu corpo. Isso era uma tentação divina para ele, algo que jamais iria conseguir resistir. Só de tê-la por perto deixava ele louco. Wonwoo te beijou lentamente, percebendo como você parecia animada e contente pelo contato físico, estava esperando por isso há semanas. Ele ficou triste por isso, saber que deixou você toda necessitada, esperando pelo mínimo contato possível. Que tipo de blood ele estava sendo? Não deveria ser assim.

— Para! Precisamos seguir as ordens do conselho, ou vai acontecer algo muito pior.

— Você é um blood, certo? É mais forte do que todos eles, então não se importe com o que esse conselho filho da puta quer. — Wonwoo virou sobre a cama, com você sentando em cima dele. — Estou desesperada e com medo, Wonwoo. Quero muito fazer isso com você, mas não na frente de todo mundo.

— Eu sei, eu também quero muito isso.

— Vamos fazer agora. Aqui e agora. — ele segurou sua cintura quando você começou a se mover em cima dele. — Wonwoo, por favor, me marque. Estou implorando. Por que você não quer fazer isso comigo? Por quê? — foi tão rápido, quando Wonwoo olhou para você já estava no chão, ajoelhada enquanto cobria o rosto com as mãos. Seu choro era nítido. — Eu não entendo porquê você me rejeita assim. Estou implorando a você, mas ainda não é o suficiente. Eu queria voltar para o meu país, eu odeio você, esse conselho estúpido e todo esse planeta.

Wonwoo tocou seus ombros, também se ajoelhando no chão e na sua frente, ele segurou seu queixo, levantando sua cabeça, mas você ainda estava de olhos fechados, com lágrimas escorrendo pelas bochechas.

— Porque você não me quer, Wonwoo? — você abriu os olhos, se deparando com ele muito próximo de você, completamente admirado. — Estou desejando por você, mas tudo o que faz é me menosprezar. Eu não entendo porquê faz isso. — Wonwoo deixou beijos em seu pescoço, subindo e descendo pela sua pele macia. Ele sentiu seu cheiro delicioso. — Deixe de seguir as regras do conselho, eles não sabem o que fazem. — você pousou as mãos em seus abdômen, fechando os olhos. — Wonwoo.

— Esse seu choro é tão excitante, sua voz é tão deliciosa. Não me importo mais com o que o conselho quer, eu já fiz muitas coisas por eles. — Wonwoo levantou você, mas apenas para te deitar novamente na cama, ficando em cima de você. — Peço desculpas por isso, por tê-la feito chorar dessa forma. — ele tirou a blusa, você desceu o olhar para seu abdômen tão definido e bonito. Tocou nele e lentamente foi deslizando suas mãos, sentindo cada músculo e a maciez daquele local. Céus, Wonwoo era um pecado. — Prometo que tentarei pegar leve, mas não garanto nada.

Wonwoo tirou a calça que usava, permanecendo apenas de cueca, foi quando você reparou que ele já estava tão duro, te deixou envergonhada. Como Wonwoo entraria em você? Ele era enorme. Ele começou a beijar seus lábios primeiro, abrindo melhor suas pernas e se posicionando entre elas. Você segurou o pescoço dele, com medo de Wonwoo fugir, estava tão sensível que gostaria de continuar sentindo esse calor. Nossa, ele era tão quente, conseguia te aquecer apenas assim.

— Minha doce garota, eu amo tanto você. — Wonwoo estava tirando suas roupas lentamente, soltando elogios para te deixar à vontade. Você estava excitada, mas ficou sorrindo com os diversos elogios dele. — Você é tudo de bom. — ele aproximou o rosto do seu pescoço, voltando a te beijar. As mãos deslizando pelo seu corpo exposto para ele, Wonwoo estava tão contente de tê-la toda entregue assim. — Eu amo você.

— Wonwoo!

— Eu sei, amor. — ele mordeu seu pescoço, deixando marcas em todo o local. Depois subiu pelo seu rosto, até chegar em sua boca. Você passou as mãos pelo pescoço dele, suspirando fundo enquanto sentia o doce gosto de seu hálito. Estava tão emocionada desse momento chegar, ficou tão vulnerável que apenas alguns toques te deixavam sensível. Wonwoo percebeu isso, tentando ser o mais carinhoso possível. — Você está muito sensível.

— Wonwoo, você vai ficar aqui comigo, não é?

— Sim, amor.

— Vai cuidar de mim?

— Prometo fazer com carinho. Vou cuidar muito bem de você, meu amor. — você o abraçou com força, ele te agarrou com apenas um braço, virando o corpo e te ajeitando em seu colo.

— Eu não quero fazer isso na frente de tantas pessoas.

— Você não vai mais precisar se preocupar com isso, prometo a você. Vou te tornar minha aqui mesmo. Não se preocupe mais com isso. Eu te amo tanto, pequena humana. — ele beijou seu pescoço novamente, você fechou os olhos quando aquela sensação tão boa te atingiu. Wonwoo era tão bom em tudo que fazia que você amou cada mínimo prazer que ele te dava.

Ele desceu os beijos, deitando você na cama com muito carinho, começou a tirar suas roupas lentamente, percebendo como você estava cheia de prazer e desespero para continuar com isso. Ele sabia que você estava com medo, mas neste momento, ele não voltaria atrás de nada, não estava ligando para conselho ou porra nenhuma. Quando você ficou nua na frente dele, Wonwoo salivou de verdade, você era uma obra de arte esculpida. Ele deslizou as mãos por todo o seu corpo, sentindo suas reações com isso, você estava adorando de verdade. E que bom saber disso, que apenas ele estava te dando tanto prazer agora. Wonwoo abriu suas pernas, encaixando entre elas enquanto deslizava um dos dedos, ele tocou sua boceta, vendo como você gemeu baixinho com o contato. Wonwoo colocou um dedo dentro de você, movimentando devagar, sentindo como você era muito apertada, perfeita para ele.

Quando começou a se movimentar mais rápido, seus gemidos ficaram mais plausíveis, ele precisava morder os lábios para se conter. Você era muito gostosa e não tinha nada que ele pudesse fazer contra isso. Que sorte a dele ter escolhido justamente você. Wonwoo segurou seu quadril, usando muito mais força para entrar e sair de você, mesmo com seus dedos, ainda eram longos e você parecia amar isso, o nome dele não saia de sua boca.

— Estou te dando prazer corretamente, amor? Você está gostando, minha princesa? Isso é só o começo.

— Wonwoo, você é tão perfeito nisso. — você segurou o pulso dele, fechando os olhos novamente para continuar gemendo por ele. Wonwoo se abaixou, colocando sua boca em seus clitóris e movimentando a língua contra ele. Ali foi o seu fim, você sabia que iria gozar muito mais rápido dessa forma, não tinha para onde correr. — Assim eu vou gozar, amor.

— Goze na minha boca, quero sentir seu gostinho doce. Você deve ser uma delícia, tão gostosa assim. — agora agarrou os cabelos dele com força, puxando seus fios enquanto olhava a visão perfeita dele por baixo dos olhos. Era isso, você iria gozar com essa visão perfeita do seu homem, ele nem sabia que era tão excitante assim.

Mas porra, se apenas com a boca dele você estava ficando sem fôlego, se perguntou se iria aguentar ele por inteiro dentro de você? Era nítido que Wonwoo era muito grande, você era tão apertadinha que tinha medo de não encaixar, mas ele daria um jeitinho nisso. Wonwoo sempre dava seu jeito em tudo. Os dedos dele ainda entrando com força em você enquanto sua língua brincava com seus clitóris e chupava sua boceta. Você estava impressionada com o qual experiente ele era, sabia tocar em cada parte do seu corpo e dar-lhe prazer corretamente. Este blood provavelmente deixou muitas ficantes desejando por mais o tempo inteiro, você também se sentiria assim se fizesse parte de suas garotas. Felizmente agora você era a única garota para com ele.

Você arqueou as costas e puxou os cabelos dele com força, era isso, iria gozar no rostinho lindo que ele tinha, mas não seria nenhum problema para Wonwoo. Você se derramou na língua dele, os gemidos que soltou sendo os mais altos possíveis, tinham chegado ao orgasmo com a boca de alguém, isso era magnífico. Wonwoo chupou você novamente antes de desferir beijos pelo seu corpo, subindo sua boca enquanto você ainda estava ofegante e sensível. Você era perfeita demais para ele. Ele brincou com seus seios lentamente, prestando atenção em todas as suas reações, pois queria saber o que mais te causava prazer — no momento ele sabia que você gostava muito de receber um oral —. Enquanto ele subia novamente, passou pelo seu pescoço enquanto deixava beijos e também deixava você tirar sua cueca lentamente, estava gostando da sua ousadia. Ele te ajudou com o processo, sabendo que era muita coisa diante do processo.

Quando ele ficou completamente sem roupas, ele deixou com que você olhasse atentamente para o seu pau, guardando a imagem na sua cabeça com o quão grande ele era. Ele sabia que você estava imaginando como não caberia, mas não precisava se preocupar com isso, Wonwoo faria caber de alguma forma. Ele tocou seus lábios, beijando lentamente enquanto escutava seus suspiros e gemidos, estava rindo de como ficava bonita tão vulnerável assim. Seus lábios eram perfeitos também, você parecia não ter nenhum defeito, pelo menos Wonwoo não encontrou nenhum. Ele acariciou suas pernas, passando em cada lado de seu quadril e então entrou lentamente dentro de você, escutando seus pequenos gemidos contra os lábios dele. Wonwoo era muito grande e grosso, logo, seria difícil para você se acostumar com isso.

— Não chore, meu amor, vai entrar rapidinho. — ele segurou suas pernas, nesse momento estava morrendo de pena de como era sensível. Porra, ele iria te quebrar dessa forma, iria te partir ao meio com tanta força. Você gritou quando ele entrou de uma vez, ainda segurando suas pernas e começando a meter bem forte dentro de você. Wonwoo nunca pensou que se sentiria em êxtase com o quão apertada você era, estava nas nuvens com isso, pretendia ficar dentro de você pelo resto da vida. — Assim é melhor, não é?

— Wonwoo! — você estava completamente sem palavras, quase ficando sem ar com tanta força que ele colocava, segurando em qualquer lugar da cama para aguentar.

— Eu sei, meu amor, mas você me aguenta por completo, não é? Sei que é forte o suficiente. — você assentiu em meio ao prazer, Wonwoo começou a acelerar seus movimentos dentro de você, agora o barulho de pele com pele é muito plausível. Isso foi muito excitante. Ele agarrou seu pescoço, não apertou com muita força, mas te deixou sem ar em alguns momentos, você fechou os olhos novamente quando sentiu essa falta de ar.

Wonwoo não sabia exatamente onde poderia te marcar, mas presumiu que qualquer lugar seria ótimo, seja em seu pescoço, quadril, seios, boceta, em qualquer lugar que tivesse um pouquinho dele, o mesmo adoraria. Ele gostou de ver o vermelho de seus dedos em seu pescoço, sua pele era tão sensível que gravou isso, ele gostou. Ele deixou um tapa em seu rosto, percebendo as marcas mais uma vez, por incrível que pareça ele amou isso. Você também, o prazer pelo seu corpo foi tanto que desejou por mais, ele sabia te satisfazer tanto que estava no paraíso.

— Eu vou entrar em êxtase com você, que bucetinha mais apertada. — Wonwoo voltou a beijar seus lábios, sentindo suas mãos deslizarem pelas costas tonificadas dele. Suas unhas cravaram na pele dele, quando ele atingiu aquele seu ponto de prazer, você gemeu contra a boca dele, mas isso não era o suficiente, portanto, você arranhou suas costas com tanta força que ele também gemeu contra sua boca, mas não reclamou.

Wonwoo queria muito que você marcasse ele completamente, só assim todos saberiam que ele pertencia a você. Ele mordeu seus lábios, quase arrancando sua pele por completo, você reclamou novamente pela dor que sentiu, também conseguindo sentir o sangue que saía. Wonwoo desceu os lábios pelo seu pescoço, mordendo e deixando outras marcas de prazer. Uma sensação muito boa atingiu ele quando sentiu que estava prestes a gozar dentro de você, mas como não iria fazer isso tão rápido assim, sendo que você era extremamente gostosa.

Wonwoo cheirou seu pescoço novamente, sentindo o quão saborosa era, seu cheiro deixava ele louco por dentro e por fora também, ele queria te provar a todo momento, não importava a ocasião. Ele pediu desculpas mentalmente por precisar fazer isso agora, mas precisava te morder e marcar seu corpo lindo, todos precisavam saber que você era completamente dele. Os dentes dele perfuraram sua carne, marcando o local mais adequado, você reclamou pela dor, tentando afastá-lo, mas era impossível nesse momento. Wonwoo fechou os olhos, sua respiração estava ainda mais pesada enquanto sentia o pequeno gosto do seu sangue, seu pau estava inchado e ele sabia que precisava gozar dentro de você agora.

Você começou a arranhar as costas dele novamente, tanto prazer assim estava te deixando maluca, você iria desmaiar em qualquer momento. E o mais incrível foi que vocês chegaram ao orgasmo juntos, primeiro foi você, gritando como uma louca embaixo dele enquanto seu corpo tremia, logo em seguida foi a vez dele, soltando seu pescoço e vendo a marca roxa que ficou em seu pescoço, depois da marcação. Wonwoo se derramou completamente dentro de você, sentindo como estava quente e muito gostoso, ele iria se viciar nisso completamente. Ele olhou para seu rosto choroso, depois sua boceta apetitosa e se retirou, vendo seu orgasmo escorrendo. Wonwoo empurrou de volta com os dedos, colocando tudo dentro de você, enquanto gemia baixinho. Ele amou te ver toda destruída e marcada como dele. O alienígena se inclinou sobre você novamente, beijando seus lábios devagar enquanto sentia seu cansaço, você quase não aguentou.

— Está cansada, meu amor? Eu vou cuidar muito bem de você agora, prometo! Nada de ruim vai te acontecer em momento algum, eu não vou deixar. — você assentiu, passando as mãos pelo pescoço dele. — Você foi perfeita. Mas seu que está cansada, então vou levá-la para tomar banho.

Wonwoo agarrou você, colocando em seu colo enquanto seguia para o banheiro, ele agiu como se você não pesasse nada, foi tão simples. O mesmo entrou no banheiro e te colocou sentada na pia, preparando a água para vocês entrarem juntos. E quando isso aconteceu, Wonwoo te colocou contra o peito dele, suas costas viradas para ele. O mesmo passou os braços pelo seu corpo, deixando beijos e carícias em sua cabeça.

— Vai acontecer alguma coisa com a gente agora?

— Não. Eu prometo a você que não deixarei ninguém tocar em um fio do seu cabelo, eles não podem mexer com quem eu escolhi. — ele alisou seu rosto, mesmo não vendo perfeitamente, fez carinhos aconchegantes em sua bochecha. — Você confia em mim, certo?

— Agora sim, Wonwoo. Sei que não deixará com que nada aconteça comigo. Obrigada!

Você suspirou, ainda sem acreditar que agora sua realidade era outra completamente diferente do que estava romantizando um dia. E talvez agora, tudo tenha ficado ainda melhor com Wonwoo, mesmo sendo de espécies diferentes, ele era tudo aquilo que um dia você sonhou. 」

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buntanteen · 24 days ago

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svt fic recs list <3 - svt 10 year anniversary: wonwoo - sfw & nsfw

summary: 10 sfw & 10 nsfw wonwoo x reader insert fics :)

contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

✩ sfw section ✩

1. ❥ You’re mad at BF!Wonwoo, but he decided to make it a SEVENTEEN problem - @vernonverse

this was TOOOOOOO funny. he was reallllyy going out of his way making everyone suffer kjfgbdkj

2. ❥ bf!wonwoo thoughts - @boorines

quality time!! (my lil extrovert self LOVESSS doing everything with everyone omgjnfv) the i don't think i could survive flirty wonwoo omfggg

3. ❥ a shot in the dark - @xinganhao

perfect for when you're in your "wonwoo is enlisted" feels :,)

4. ❥ wonwoo random twitter au series: one | two | three | four - @wonuism

reader is me and i am reader. we are one in these

5. ❥ idol!wonwoo bf texts - @cheoliedollie

loving??? caring?!?!? silly?!?!? YESSSSSSSSSS MUHAHA

6. ❥ dating wonwoo feels like.., - @ssentimentals

dating wonwoo would feel like everything i'm looking for (WHY DOES HE SOUND SO DAMN GOOD HERE AHHH)

7. ❥ wonwoo headcanons pt. 1 | pt. 2 - @wonuism

he's such a gentle sweet lover :,) what if i just- *faints*

8. ❥ wonwoo bf habits - @odxrilove

THE SHOULDER MOVE EEEEEEEEEEE KJSGBFDK NOMS??! WARMING UP A TOWEL FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEE? HEHE

9. ❥ love languages: jeon wonwoo - @cxffecoupx

i loveeeeeeee the idea of someone being this thoughtful and wanting to be spending quality time with me :,)

10. ❥ you vs the universe - @cheolism-archive

“get it together, mother.” HAHA PLSSSSSSSSS (the way nonu reacted in the reader getting hit by a ball story made me sooo soft :,) the way he takes care of reader?? that's my guyyy)

✩ nsfw section ✩

1. ❥ Stripper Joke - @hoshifighting

the CONFIDENCE from reader versus wonwoo's shyness?!?!?! AHHHHHHHH

2. ❥ blindsided | expansion blindsided!wonwoo - @studioeisa & @xinganhao

there's just something so hot and attractive about glasses wearers and wonwoo wears them sooooooooooo well and he's sooooooo dumbly hot in this

3. ❥ perv wonwoo x roommate reader pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 - @rubyreduji

he's so disgusting in this...(why am i into it!!?)

4. ❥ 21:34 - @eomayas

heheheh HEHEHEHHEEHHE (i thoroughly enjoyed this)

5. ❥ “warm-up” - @pochaccoups

getting fucked and getting snacks afterwards?!?!?!? FUCK YES

6. ❥ we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - @eomayas

AHHHHHHHHHHH THE SEX THE CONFESSION THE AHHHH

7. ❥ gamer bf! wonwoo - @svtswhorehouse

...THIS IS ALL I'VE EVER WANTED HEHEH

8. ❥ desperate - @toruro

fucking the horny out of reader?!?! OOOOOOOOOOOOHHH

9. ❥ the peephole - @rubyreduji

this concept goes CRAZYYYYYYYYY

10. ❥ watching him masturbate - @hoshifighting

*sigh* it'd be so pretty watching this

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chwedout · 1 day ago

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please don't take away his beans

#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #svt #cheytermelon #usernaya #useryenas #userhornet #annietrack #rinblr #svtedit #usersvt #svtcreators #chwedout #my edit

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wonlouvre · 4 days ago

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chapter two: what could have been | masterlist

pairing: attorney!female oc x doctor!jeon wonwoo genre: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, modern royalty warnings: vomiting, fainting, potential food poisoning, emergency hospitalization word count: 3.7k author’s note: thank you so much for waiting! chapter 2 is finally here <3 thank you for your kind reblogs and feedbacks! i really appreciate the excitement! see you on the next!

---

The memory of Wonwoo’s relationship getting exposed is ingrained inside your brain for what seemed like the rest of your life. Every staff from the executive down to the administrative were in a state of panic. They didn’t show it to you because they needed to keep their jobs, but you could tell by how they walked in eggshells around you. Everyone was scrambling to keep the information under wraps. If the press needed to be bribed, so be it. Your family made it a duty to protect Wonwoo’s image.

Meanwhile, you? You remained silent with a heart broken into pieces.

Deep down inside, you were masking the pain with calmness, showing no signs of jealousy and defensiveness. But, how do you build confidence in your self worth in all of this?

Your family was strongly forcing you into Wonwoo's life. They want you to be his present even though he’s still stuck in the past. In fact, you were never his present to begin with.

You were the obstacle to what could have been.

What could have been his happiness, his love, his everything.

The Queen was harsh with her words, criticizing and insulting Wonwoo’s then girlfriend. You know she will always be on your side, but you couldn’t stand the slander of someone so innocent and had done nothing wrong. No matter how much it hurt, you tried to reason with your mother, but she shushed you with a scowl.

“How dare she act like this?” Your mother continued with her tirade. “She knows he’s engaged.”

“It’s done,” His Majesty, the King, retorted. Finally, the Queen calms down. “King Jeon will handle this from now on. We are to extend assistance in damage control and not a single word is to be spoken about this any further.”

Damage control.

Clearly, that’s what this whole union is all about. Damage.

“Good morning, Your Highness!” A sudden cheerful voice wakes you up from your thoughts.

Your smile couldn’t help but grow as Jeongyeon, your ever so bright of an assistant, greets you the moment the elevator opens. She takes your briefcase and hands you her ipad as she walks through your schedule for the next two days.

“Lastly, Her Majesty’s assistant sent an email over the weekend of a joint calendar link for your wedding planning,” she says, giving you a tight smile. “Together with Prince Wonwoo, you will meet the hired planners tomorrow at 2 o’clock in the afternoon.”

You sit on your work desk and try grasping what Jeongyeon just said. Your mother is sure fast with everything. You didn’t even get the chance to see Wonwoo this morning. He had to visit a friend who’s also a doctor, Kwon Soonyoung, from what you’ve heard. You just eavesdrop whenever the palace’s staff talks about him.

“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon calls your attention. “Do you need help with anything?”

You look up to her and just faintly smile. “A coffee would be nice. Thank you, Jeongyeon.”

She nods in understanding, quickly leaving to fulfill her task.

It can be upsetting to live like this. Oftentimes, you catch yourself zoning out with a feeling of emptiness inside your head and chest. You realized it was the constant waiting. Waiting for Wonwoo. Waiting on Wonwoo. Waiting, waiting, and waiting.

You were stuck, but at the same time on the verge of just blowing up and screaming, just let it go!

Just let me let go of Wonwoo.

If you could beg, you would. But, their Majesties would not have any of it.

There has got to be a way to make this work. Wonwoo already made it clear that he’s going to do what he’s supposed to do. You might as well do the same thing and just let it be.

You thought you were okay with the arranged marriage. In fact, you were way beyond okay. But now, you have a sickening feeling that it would be the opposite. Had you spoken up and rebelled like Wonwoo did, would you still be here? Would you have waited? Or would have this been over right then and there?

It’s too late.

You have sacrificed so much already. Your family. Your people.

They’re all waiting on you.

–

Most events hosted by the Royal Family were spearheaded by the Queen. She has an excellent talent for making things happen with her own personal touch. You’re reminded of one of the biggest events of your family when your parents celebrated their 30th Anniversary. Your mother could have taken a break and have the family’s most trusted experts handle it, but no, she had to take over because she would never get a wink of sleep thinking about it.

Thus, this wedding planning is no surprise from you.

You arrive at the address indicated in the joint calendar at 2 o'clock sharp. The gates were big and it was about a 3 minute drive before you were able to reach the main hall. There were a lot of tall trees, the breeze was refreshing, and the overall sight felt far different from the city.

“Your Highness,” Saera, the Queen’s assistant, greets you with a curtsy. “Their Majesties have just arrived as well.”

Majesties?

“Is my father he–”

“Y/N!”

The doors open and a soft cheer echoes through the quiet hall while soft arms delicately hug your frame.

“Queen Jeon,” you immediately greet and curtsy despite the surprise.

Her Majesty smiles widely and caresses your arms, as if to warm you up. “It has been so long.”

You smile faintly before glancing at your mother who only nods. “How have you been?”

“Grand!” Queen Jeon exclaims and holds your hand to lead you to the table where the tea and pastries have been served. “I’m delighted to finally have this wedding happening.”

“You and I both, Your Majesty,” your mother reaffirms. “I’m sure Her Highness feels the same.”

They look at you with expectant eyes, but your line of vision is distracted with Wonwoo’s arrival. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you meet his eyes. You raise your hand to wave at him but stop midway as Saera announces his presence. Embarrassed, you looked away. But unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo noticed.

“Your Majesties,” Wonwoo greets both of your mothers then bows. After your mother’s nod, he goes straight to Queen Jeon to give her a hug. You believe it’s warm with how happy his mother is to see him.

You and Wonwoo were ordered to take your seats beside each other. The Queens chatted for a while as the two of you only shared silence. It’s awkward and you feel like you are about to combust with how close Wonwoo is with you. And as for him? He’s just sitting straight, but not much to make him look stiff. In fact, it baffles you that he could look so dashing despite the stoic expression of his face.

Apparently, the planners had been prepared with their presentation since earlier in the morning. But, due to the differing schedules you and Wonwoo had, the 2:00 in the afternoon time slot was the only available one to share. Or maybe, your mothers just wanted to catch up before business takes order. Business, this marriage does seem like a business transaction.

You really need to work on not shooting yourself down with your own thoughts.

It’s hard to be brave and unbothered. Especially when the outlet is almost nowhere to be found. Your mother, for one, will not hear a single word against the wedding. Your father is obviously out of the picture on the wedding preparations. Friends? It’s hard to trust at the moment when every piece of information about your personal life comes with a good price to sell. While Jeongyeon, the person you trust the most, is already burdened enough as an employee.

“Why aren’t we starting?” Wonwoo quietly whispers to your ear, startling you.

Your shoulders jump a little, your head immediately turning to his. You’re greeted by his pointed nose and piercing eyes, you almost fling your whole body off the chair. Wonwoo also gets surprised by your reaction, pulling away and clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” he mutters, sitting properly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, sorry,” you apologize back, taking a deep breath and exhaling. You’re on edge and you have shown it embarrassingly. You’re hoping their Majesties didn’t notice.

Before you could give him an answer, your mother’s laughter dies down and finally calls for Saera.

“Your Majesties, Your Highness,” Saera calls for your attention, tone excited. “Let me introduce you to the most sought wedding planners of Seoul.”

Two ladies enter the room with big yet humble smiles, curtsying before introducing themselves to the room.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, I’m Nari,” the girl on the left, wearing a mint green dress speaks and continues, “and this is my sister, Seungah.”

Seungah, wearing a baby pink ensemble, smiles with her palm pressed to her heart. “Good afternoon.”

You smile, finding them adorable. They could pass as twins and you’re not the only one who finds them endearing. The Queens stood up and so did you and Wonwoo. Each of you extended your hands to offer a handshake and they accepted it graciously.

Once settled, the siblings began with their presentation. From time to time, you can’t help but glance at Wonwoo who’s intently listening. He was holding the portfolio the girls distributed and he seemed so invested. Reading through the material, sometimes taking notes, and even folding some pages to bookmark.

Meanwhile, you’re distracted because of him.

Sometimes, you can’t help but think about how you can’t seem to figure Wonwoo out. You have admired him for the longest time and yet, he’s so far away. The previous conversation you had with him was nights ago, but it still lingers inside your mind. It was sad. It was bitter. You wanted to say sorry. Apologize for rekindling the burning pain inside his heart.

But, looking at him right now, there’s this greed inside of you that makes him want to stay forever.

You should be ashamed. Ogling at him like he’s meters away when he’s just right there! You can’t help it, though. He seems so engrossed as if this is the wedding he has always wanted. You wish it was.

Your mother even catches you staring, speaking to you with the glare in her eyes. Listen.

You smile sheepishly, returning your attention to the screen.

The presentation was a solid one hundred for you. They laid out the timeline perfectly, the suppliers were on par with your mother’s taste, the decorations, the designs, the traditional theme, it matched the custom wedding that your kingdom has been having for generations with a little bit of modern incorporation.

“Thank you so much, young ladies,” Queen Jeon says, smiling at the two.

It sounds like everything is settled. There’s not much to discuss any further and all you have to do is wait for the actual wedding. You prepare to stand up and leave as the conclusion nears.

“It was lovely,” your mother says genuinely. But, what she says next makes you halt. “The prince and princess will be in close coordination and attend every meeting in the coming weeks.”

What?!

You and Wonwoo both shout inside your head.

—

The Seoul Foundation was founded by your grandfather, the late King, when he discovered the growing educational crisis of the neighboring kingdoms during his reign. Your family takes pride in the educational system that was established in Seoul many years ago. It was effective, efficient, and inclusive.

Your grandfather, alongside the late Queen, created the Seoul Foundation with the vision that such advancement should not be kept in only one place. The foundation served as the official royal foundation catering to educational, healthcare, disaster relief, and other needs not only in Seoul but to neighboring kingdoms as well.

You have worked closely in the foundation as a volunteer ever since you were in high school. More so when you graduated from law school and passed the bar examination. The foundation has given you a sense of purpose that cannot be comprehended with just words. Your participation gives you the fulfilment your heart truly desires.

And now, Prince Wonwoo wants to be part of it.

Well, you could really use a doctor for the other healthcare related projects the foundation is holding. It doesn’t sound so bad. It would even do your reputation as a couple good.

But, that’s not the point! You scold yourself.

You’re just feeling a little shy because this is your zone. And if it wasn’t obvious enough, you have this long-time crush on Wonwoo. You’re afraid to make a joke on yourself with just one slip up.

“What has gotten Her Highness deep in thought?”

Yoon Jeonghan, the Executive Director of Seoul Foundation, made his presence known with his teasing voice. You’re already looking up to him when he gives your door exactly three knocks. He always does this just to tease you. For such a remarkable lawyer and director of the foundation, he can’t help but be a menace.

“Nothing,” you lie and pretend to type on your keyboard when the monitor’s screen is obviously pitch black.

Jeonghan grins, plopping down on one of your vacant chairs. “I heard from the halls that His Highness, Prince Wonwoo, is stopping by to submit a resume.”

You grimace before glaring at him. “It’s not funny.”

“But surely, it’s the truth?” He asks, raising an expectant eyebrow from you.

“I’m sure the royal order has been transmitted already,” you say with a deep sigh.

“Probably,” Jeonghan reaffirms and stands up. “I still have one envelope from His Majesty I haven’t opened.”

Now, he’s really teasing you. “Could you get out? Please?”

Jeonghan chuckles at your gritted teeth. “I’ll call for you when he arrives. No special treatment, though.”

You throw the newspaper on your table at him.

—

Wonwoo was set to arrive at around lunch time, as per Jeongyeon’s information. She has stayed in contact with Mingyu, whom she prefers to formally call Mr. Kim, so that it’s not so hard to keep track with His Highness schedule. For most of it, you’re sure your mother gave strict orders to her as well.

But, plans were changed when Wonwoo had to stop by the Palace when the King called. That’s why he was running a bit late. Everyone who anticipated his arrival proceeded with lunch as usual and just waited for him in the next hours. It made you laugh to see their saddened faces. Not as a form of mockery, but more as a wow. Prince Wonwoo can still make everyone swoon. And you can’t believe you’re one of them.

Your days at the foundation go by normally. You handle most of the legal matters. Contracts and agreements are your top priority in making sure that they uphold the laws of the kingdom and the parties adhere to the terms. This is to ensure that granting processes are smooth, effective, and transparent.

But, on this particular day after eating lunch, you feel a little bit queasy. The lunch served was delicious and you actually had a big meal. You can’t seem to pinpoint what could possibly go wrong with the food. You noticed everyone to be looking fine.

You decided to ignore the churning inside your stomach and chug the water from your coffee mug. It will probably go away soon. You could be just full. Or maybe, you’re just uneasy and nervous because of Wonwoo.

I guess it all boils down to him, you figured.

If you’re being honest with yourself right now, you don’t even know how you will act when Wonwoo arrives. You don’t even know how you will act with Wonwoo when he arrives. Royal couples are not expected much to act all “coupley.” But, it wouldn’t hurt to have some chemistry, right?

Now, your head is starting to hurt.

You should pitch in some acting classes with him. In that way, you guys could loosen up and not look like a literal arranged marriage couple. Which you both are, but trying not to look like it would help convince the public.

You could use some coffee at this point. You stood up to go to the office’s shared pantry, but it seemed to be the wrong move as your vision blurred and legs weakened.

What the hell? Your head was still able to voice out in complaint. You stand up again and hold on to your table for support. Slowly, you take a step. However, as you take each step, the light in your line of vision starts to dim and now you’re breathing hard in panic.

“Jeongyeon,” you could barely speak, but you still attempted in the hopes that she could hear you.

You try to walk to the door faster, but the door is appearing far when it’s just right there. Your whole body heats up and starts to sweat profusely. Still, you continue walking.

Before your hand could reach for the knob, you hear a knock before seeing it twist and the door to your office finally opens. You hoped to breathe a sigh of relief, but your body failed you.

It was quick. Your legs gave out in seconds and no matter how hard you tried to remain standing, your consciousness was slipping away. Your eyes closed shut in an instant as you fell. You could only feel the arms that caught you and the voice that shouted for your name.

They were all familiar.

Then, everything went dark and silent.

—

Jeongyeon was quick to act, immediately grabbing her phone and dialing the designated emergency number for the royal family. It didn’t take two rings for the operator to answer.

“This is the Seoul Medical Center, how can I help you?” The other line speaks.

But before Jeongyeon could respond, her phone was snatched away from her. Her mouth drops open when she sees Mingyu, the Mr. Kim, hands the phone down to Wonwoo’s outstretched hand while his other hand cradles your back to keep you up, providing initial assessment of your condition.

“This is Jeon Wonwoo and I am calling from the Seoul Foundation. I am requesting an immediate medical transport to Seoul Medical Center for a member of the royal family. Patient is stable, however, unconscious and needs to be properly assessed in a hospital.”

Wonwoo did not give the operator the opportunity to respond back and ask further questions. He returns the phone back to Jeongyeon without looking her way, only looking at you and your expression of discomfort. You're sweating and holding on to your belly, showing signs of aching.

Standing by his side, Jeongyeon confirms to the operator all the remaining details needed for your prompt transport.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo calls for you and gently taps your right cheek. “Can you hear me?”

“Your Highness!” Jeongyeon screams in relief as she sees you slowly open your eyes. Beside her, Mingyu jumps in surprise, but immediately puts his composure back.

“An ambulance is on its way. Please hold on a little bit longer,” Wonwoo tells you, his tone of voice comforting. “Can you tell me what you ate earlier?”

In a daze, you frown with what’s happening around you. What does food have to do with all of this? Are you on the floor? Is Wonwoo holding me on the floor? Your thoughts are running wild, but you can’t seem to speak any word.

“Uh, at lunch we all had the same food,” Jeongyeon filled Wonwoo with helpful details she could remember. “There was some seaweed soup, meat, and mixed vegetables.”

You could only nod, frantically. What could possibly be making you sick like this?

“How are you feeling, Jeongyeon?” Wonwoo had to ask, eliminating what could be causing your sickness one by one until he found a conclusion.

“I’m okay, Your Highness,” Jeongyeon answers, her voice guilty despite the good news. “Everyone else here is not sick at all.”

You sigh in relief. You’re glad it’s just you. But your body is quick to recoil, your stomach hurting and churning.

Wonwoo keeps holding you. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You wish to thank him, but the queasiness in your stomach keeps building up and you grow restless. You try pulling away from him, wanting to stand up and run to the bathroom. Tears well up in your eyes as Wonwoo stops you from moving any further. Your sweat is cold and your head is dizzy.

“What is it?” Wonwoo asks, concerned.

You shake your head in an attempt to communicate, but he just couldn’t get it. Against your will, your throat tightens and you heave. For the last time, you tried pushing Wonwoo away.

But, you’re one second too late.

You vomit on Wonwoo’s chest, staining his white button down.

This is the most embarrassing moment of your life and you could bid your goodbyes now. However, to your surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t move an inch. You raise your head and meet his eyes, still looking at you with unwavering concern.

“Feeling better?” He asked calmly, as if you didn’t just projectile vomit on him.

Your lips tremble and your eyes water. “I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo only nods, understanding your situation.

Suddenly, you hear the sounds of running footsteps and wheels rolling.

“You can close your eyes,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear as the paramedics near. “It’s okay, we’ll be there when you open them.”

You silently nod and follow his advice. Your vomit smells terrible and you don’t know how Wonwoo is so unfazed by it. He holds you close to his chest, all the while avoiding the part where you vomited.

This is the first time you have been close with the Crowned Prince of Changwon, Jeon Wonwoo. It’s quite a memorable one. And an embarrassing one, unfortunately.

This could also be your last too, no one knows.

But, at this moment, nothing else mattered. For now, you close your eyes and let him take care of you. You let him tell the paramedics what happened. You let him give permission to transfer you on the stretcher and finally take you to the hospital.

For once, Wonwoo was more than willing enough to do something for you.

---

buy me a coffee? ☕

#wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen fanfic #jeon wonwoo

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