#(( yena. )) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wonyology · 1 month ago

Text

Blueprints Of Us

(m!reader x IVE's WONYOUNG) - part I

part II - part III - part IV - part V (finished)

masterlist

Summary: A heartbroken architect. An ambitious girl. They didn't know each other existed - until the day they met in Hong Kong. What began as a pleasant encounter slowly turns into something neither of them planned: a connection, and perhaps... a new beginning.

Tags(?): fluff, post heartbreak stuff, wony being beautiful, i don't even know man

WONYOUNG x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~10k - big shoutout to @stewpidcheescatarinabluu for the hong kong suggestion, i tried something new this time so... hopefully u guys like it. also, i know nothing about architect. as always, enjoying reading!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Incheon International Airport

It was 11:00PM, you sat quietly at Gate 21, the ice americano in your hand somehow tasted really bland now. Too bland. The terminal was quiet, not the peaceful quiet kind - just empty. A few other passengers sat scattered across the rows of seats, some half asleep, others just looked dead inside, just like you. You weren’t in a rush since your flight to Hong Kong wouldn’t board for another 40 minutes. Moments like these just sucked somehow.

You scrolled through your phone again. Nothing to check, Just the usual emails from work, maybe too many unread group chats that you didn’t even bother to open in days, and that message - still sitting on top of your Kakao like it was waiting for you to accept the truth.

[내지민이🩵]

(My Jiminie🩵)

im sorry oppa

let’s not keep dragging this out

you know we’ve been over for a while

You stared at it for a moment. No typing dots. No follow-up.

It was from your now ex-girlfriend, Jimin - Yu Jimin, your hoobae from SNU. You met on campus, she was in Interior Design and you were finishing up your architecture degree. She was popular - the looks, the bright energy, the bubbly personality, she had it all. People noticed her. A lot of guys chased after her. But somehow, she’d only looked at you. She was the one who confessed first - bold, smiling, a little nervous. You still remembered the way she’d asked if you always looked that serious, even when the sky looked nice. Somehow you’d ended up together. For almost 2 years. At one point, Jimin was even talking about moving in together. But… it hadn’t been good for a while. She said she’d been tired and you had no better excuse than ‘I’ve been busy’. You weren’t cheating. You weren’t lying. You loved her too much for that.

But last night - the look in Jimin’s eyes told you she was serious. You got down your knees in the middle of the street, apologizing and begging her for one last chance with tears in your eyes. You never thought you’d ever be that desperate, pleading guy in a drama. You never really begged for anything before. But last night, you begged for her. Jimin cried too, but she still walked away. No yelling, no accusations. She said it hurt too much to keep this relationship alive. She didn’t hate you but she couldn’t survive loving you like this anymore.

You cried too. Harder than you ever had. So much that you weren’t even sure if you could make it to Hong Kong today. But somehow you managed.

Your studio, DPR, was young but quickly gained a reputation for its thoughtful and unique design. It was catching attention, even getting shortlisted for awards in the recent months. You’d joined it after graduating from SNU - one of their only rare junior hires as the team started expanding. The founder - your boss, Yu Barom, was only in his late 30s - maybe a bit young for his field but respected by many for his work. There was something easy about talking with him - not quite a mentor, more of a close friend. He noticed the shift in you for the past few months but he never pushed. When a partner in Hong Kong invited your studio to consult on a small renovation project, he offered it to you.

“Take the job, Haejoon-ah.” he said. “Explore Hong Kong a bit, maybe get lost for a few days. Might help.”

You knew it wasn’t about the project. Still, you were thankful for the chance - not just for work but also for his understanding behind it. You were still lost in that thought when the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. Well… enough sadness. It was time to get your shit together and board the plane.

Somewhere in the sky, you found yourself staring out the window, watching Korea disappear into clouds. Becoming an architect was never really something you planned - maybe not at first. But you were good with your hands, better with space than words and building things just felt like the one thing you could make sense of the world around you. You weren’t from money, nothing was ever handed to you easily. But you worked your way up, maybe got lucky along the way - through school, through military service, through sleepless nights at SNU until you ended up here. Thirty years old. Employed straight after university, luckily, in this economy. Respected. And still somehow feeling like something or maybe someone was missing in your life.

The next few days passed in a blur - full of site visits, meetings and late night drafts. The renovation project wasn’t anything massive - just a quiet redesign of a small hotel tucked along Sheung Wan. The work culture in Hong Kong was a bit fast paced but nothing you couldn’t keep up with. You spent your days listening, observing and sketching like you always did. Hong Kong was packed but beautiful, chaotic and sharp-edged in a way Seoul wasn’t.

A bit like that game, Sleeping Dogs. Minus the kungfu part. Underrated game.

Until that day, your early meeting had been canceled and you decided to wander around with no purpose, letting the city carry you away. At some point, you ended up at Tsim Sha Tsui harbor, the scenery looked exactly like those in the 90s Hong Kong movies. And there, tucked at the end of the Star Ferry Pier was a clean, minimalist cafe. You’d seen a bunch of those cafes before. Clean concrete, soft wood counters, art gallery vibes. A cup of coffee won’t hurt. But damn, Hong Kong was fucking expensive. You wandered near the window to calm yourself down while watching the world move. The bitterness hit a bit but you didn’t mind. Not there for the coffee anyway.

Then she walked in. She took your breath the moment she got into your vision. She was wearing a matching cream and navy stripes crochet set. The cropped cardigan clung lightly to her shoulders, unbuttoned to show the black top underneath. Her high waisted shorts helped compliment her long legs, making her already tall frame even more attractive. Her long hair was braided over one shoulder, giving her look a retro but not too old fashioned vibe. A thin choker with a small pendant was wrapped around her neck, and those earrings just made her look so elegant and rich. But the main point of her look was the glasses. She walked in while adjusting them - casual but confident, like she knew people were watching her. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She ordered in English, voice soft but confident? Sounded a bit American? Tourist?

You didn’t really care at first, not until she ran into trouble while paying. Her card wasn’t going through. She shifted awkwardly and laughed it off with the barista then muttered something out of frustration. In Korean, loud enough for you to hear.

“아 뭐야, 또 왜 이래…?”

(What the hell, again…?)

Korean!

Before you could think of anything else, you stood up and walked to the counter, phone already in hand.

“It’s ok. I’ll pay for her.” you said in English - more confident than you thought.

She turned, blinking in surprise.

“Oh no! Please, you don’t have to…” in English again.

You shook head slightly and switched back to Korean.

“I’m Korean, too. It’s fine.”

She hesitated for a second then offered a small bow with a tint of pink on her cheeks.

“Ah… thank you so much. Really.” voice now relieved. “I didn’t expect to run into a Korean here.”

“Me neither.” you offered a small smile.

She took her drink from the counter then just stood there clutching her cup of coffee with both hands for a moment. She wasn’t moving away. Her eyes flickered around the cafe then landed back on you.

Shit… she’s so beautiful.

You glanced at an empty table near the window.

“Do you… want to sit with me?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

“Ah-umm…” she was caught off guard for a second, eyes dropping to her drink then back to you. Then she let out a soft laugh.

“I mean… yeah. Sure.”

The both of you moved to sit down, she carefully placed her cup of coffee before adjusting her cardigan slightly. You noticed how she kept tucking those few strands of her behind her ear, like she was nervous of something. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” she finally spoke first, the corners of her lips curling slightly.

“No, you’re doing fine.” you smiled.

She nodded, taking a sip of coffee before smiling again.

“...Can I ask for your name?” her voice was a bit more confident now. “Feels weird just saying ‘thank you’ to a stranger.”

You chuckled under your breath.

“Yeah, it’s true. I’m Haejoon. Han Haejoon. And you?”

“I’m Jang Wonyoung.”

“Nice name. It suits you a lot.” you meant it.

There was a beat. Then she tilted her head, slightly blushing.

“Can I ask how old are you, Haejoon-ssi? Just… you know. So we know how to talk.”

You smiled.

“I’m thirty, in Korean age. International… twenty nine.”

“I’m twenty two, so… Oppa?” she replied immediately, her eyes were sparkling - like she was testing you, waiting for a reaction.

Fuck.

You coughed. Only once. Just enough to embarrass yourself. You then looked down at your coffee like it suddenly needed your attention.

“That’s fine. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that…”

You scratched the back of your neck.

“Or not. I don’t… mmm, whatever works best for you.”

She laughed - really laughed this time, covering her mouth with two hands. She was clearly enjoying how flustered you got.

“You’re really shy for someone who just rescued me with a cup of coffee, oppa.” she teased.

You raised one eyebrow, trying to recover.

“Yeah, well. Confidence is situational sometimes.”

Wonyoung took another sip of her drink, eyes quietly scanning you from head to toe then landing back on your eyes.

“You don’t look like a tourist, oppa.” she said, tilting her head. “Are you living here?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m here for work. A short project.”

She nodded slowly, fingers playing with her cup.

“I thought so. You look like you just stepped out of a meeting or something.”

You glanced at yourself - slightly dark tailored suit, the shirt still stiff from rushing in the morning.

“Too obvious?” you asked, smirking.

“A little.” she grinned. “But in a good way. Sharp. Clean hairstyle. Professional. Korean vibe, definitely.”

“Thanks… I think.”

She covered her laugh with her hands again. Feminine. Effortless. Drawing you right in.

“Where do you live in Korea, oppa?” her tone still playful but curious.

“Uhm, Seoul.” you replied. “Mapo-gu side. Not too far from Yeonnam-dong.”

“No way. I live over there too. Right on the edge of Yeonnam, close to Mangwon market.” she gasped a bit.

“Really?” you blinked.

“Um, my friends and I are actually planning to open a floral studio somewhere around that area.”

You leaned back, surprised but kind of amused.

“That’s fairly close.”

“Fate?” she teased.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you narrowed your eyes, taking a risky shot.

Wonyoung gasped, clearly playing it for effect.

“Oh no… I’ve been caught. I guess I’ll have to find a new victim.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nah, you don’t look like the criminal type.”

She sipped her drink with a small smile. “That’s how we criminals get you.”

You leaned forward a little, resting your forearms on the table.

“Floral Studio? Is that your full time job?”

She pouted her lips a bit before answering.

“Kind of. Maybe not yet. I just finished school a few months ago. Took a break to travel around with my friends before… you know, real life hits.”

“Graduated from?”

“Ewha” she replied. “Fine Arts. I focused on stuff like fabric theory or styling but ended up falling in love with floral work along the way. I guess it also makes sense because I’ve liked it since I was a kid.”

“Floral work… Like not exactly a florist but arrangements and stuff?” you hummed.

Wonyoung nodded, swirling her coffee around.

“Yup, like styling, visual work… Maybe it sounds a bit corny but I like how flowers can change the vibe of a place. I did a few stuff with bridal studios, concept shops, even a magazine shoot, once. I guess it just clicked along the way.”

You leaned back again, amazed.

“So not a shop that only sells flowers.”

She smiled.

“Definitely not that. I don’t just want to sell flowers. I want to create spaces and atmosphere that bring memories or scent to people. Does that even make sense?”

“Actually, yeah. It does.” you gave her a small nod, impressed.

There was a brief pause before she spoke up again.

“I don’t know if it’ll work yet,” she said, looking down at her cup then back at you. “But we’re giving it a shot.”

“And ‘we’ is…?”

“My friends. Two of them. We’ve been dreaming about it for a long time now. I’m actually traveling around Hong Kong with them right now.”

“That’s brave. Really.”

Wonyoung smiled at your words, cheeks faintly pink - then she suddenly looked away and pressed her lips into her cup before speaking up again.

“Why did I just overshare like that?” she mumbled. “I don’t usually talk this much with people I just met.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. It was nice to hear.”

She glanced at you from under her lashes, a little flustered. Then, she straightened.

“Anyway. What about you, oppa? What’s your job? Besides saving girls with card problems and drinking coffee at expensive places.”

“I’m an architect.” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“Ah, called it.” her eyes lit up.

“You guessed?” you blinked.

“Nice tailored suit. Clean look. Sharp eyes. You’re either an architect or a rich guy who works in finance. Or IT.”

You raised a brow. “Are you always this observant?”

“Only when I’m bored.” she smiled again, this time relaxed.

Then she paused, eyes narrowing.

“Wait. If you think I’m that observant… guess my MBTI, oppa.”

You let out a quiet laugh.

“We’re moving on to MBTI already?”

“It’s fun, oppa. Every Korean has to do this. C’mon, one guess.” she said, leaning in.

You studied Wonyoung for a second. Confident posture. Confident speech. The way she caught herself oversharing but owned it anyway. Stylish. So goddamn beautiful, too.

“You gotta be an E…”

Her eyes sparkled a bit.

“EN… No, ES… ESTJ.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“How?

“Confident. Bright energy. I’d say organized but a bit dramatic. The good kind. I’d say stylish too but that doesn’t really count in MBTI.” you just smiled, taking a sip of your coffee like it was obvious.

I got a bit lucky too, Wonyoung-ah.

Wonyoung squinted at you.

“Okay, wait. That’s scary. I’m an actual ESTJ.”

“I’m good, right? Got it on the first try.”

“I’m suspicious now.” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Do you just study MBTIs in your free time?”

“Nope. An architect’s instinct. I worked with many different types of people too.”

She smiled. “Alright, my turn. Let me guess yours.”

You leaned back, enjoying her presence.

Wonyoung’s lips slightly pursed in thought.

“You’re definitely not an E. Too calm. Quiet but not too awkward. You seem like you hate small talk but… listen well. Hmm..”

Here’s your chance.

You saw your chance and went right for it.

“Maybe I do hate small talk.” you said, your voice steady.

“Just… not with you, apparently.”

Smooth.

Wonyoung’s eyes widened just a bit - not expecting that. She blinked then let out a lovely laugh, flustered but pulling her hands up to cover her face.

“...Wow, okay.”

“That was smooth, oppa. You don’t really seem like the flirty type.”

You shrugged, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

“No, I’m not. Also, confidence is situational, remember?”

Wonyoung shook her head, laughing into her hands for a second before finally lowering them again. Her cheeks were a soft shade of pink, eyes still amused.

“I swear, if this is how you talk to every girl you meet…”

You raised both your hands in defense.

“I swear on my architect degree, from SNU - you’re the first.”

Wonyoung blinked.

“Wait. Seoul National University?”

You nodded.

“No way.” she stared at you for a second, genuinely taken aback.

“Why? Is that surprising?” you smiled, a little unsure.

“Yeah, that’s like the SNU. Our country’s top school so… you must be something yourself.”

You chuckled, shy now.

“Well… yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

She shook her head slowly, lips parting a little.

“That’s seriously impressive, oppa. I’m kind of… wow. No wonder you’re all quiet and mysterious.”

You laughed under your breath.

“Mysterious? That’s a first.”

“You’ve got that hidden backstory energy, oppa. Do you like, build buildings and stuff?” she asked, sipping her drink.

You smiled at her wording.

“Not exactly. I don’t physically go out with a hammer, if that’s what you’re picturing. I design them. Sometimes interior stuff too.”

Wonyoung laughed, covering her smile again with her hand - a habit you were finding endearing. But it was her eyes that got you. The way they shut lightly when she smiled or laughed, crinkling just a bit at the corner - genuine. Soft. Like the kind of laugh that showed she wasn’t pretending with you. You didn’t mean to stare, but you did. Just a bit longer than you should have.

“Do I have something on my face, oppa?”

“Nothing… Uh, your eyes look pretty when you laugh.”

She paused, her ears turning pink.

“...Well, that’s nice of you to say that.”

You were now aware of how warm your face felt too.

“I mean, it’s true.”

You leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the window before returning to Wonyoung. An awkward pause before you spoke.

“Anyway… yeah. I’m taking the architectural license exam this August. And then two other stages… at the end of the year. Then if things go well, I will finally be a licensed architect.”

“Hmm… that’s a big deal, isn’t it?” Wonyoung blinked, clearly impressed.

“It’s… a long time coming.”

“That’s amazing,” her voice sounded so genuine. “Like, really impressive. You must’ve worked so hard for this.”

You shrugged. Wonyoung’s words hit deeper than you expected. She then leaned forward, resting her chin in one hand with her eyes on you.

“I don’t know. There’s something really attractive about people who build things. Like it’s not just work… Care, thought, vision…”

You let her words settle in the space, trying to figure out what this beautiful girl is trying to do. Then she tilted her head slightly with her chin still resting in her palm.

“Wait… can I ask you something a bit random?”

“Sure.” you replied, curious.

“Did you do your military service already? Or are you one of those guys who contribute something big to the country and get exempt status?”

You laughed, it did catch you off guard a little.

“I’m not that lucky. I did mine right after high school.”

“Wow, so you got it out of the way early.” her eyes widened a bit.

“So if someone dates you now, oppa… They don’t have to worry about you disappearing for two years?”

“That’s one way to… put it.” you said with a low laugh. “Guess I’m low risk that way.”

She nodded, like she was seriously considering it.

“Good to know.”

A short pause came again. Wonyoung glanced at you, down at her coffee, swirling around for a bit. Then she spoke with her eyes still on the cup - quieter this time.

“Umm… can I have your number, oppa?”

She peeked up at you, her tone casual but her cheeks a little pink.

“Just in case I need to repay you for the coffee. Or, you know… if you feel like talking again.”

You smiled - couldn’t help it.

“Sure,” you said while pulling out your phone. “I’d love to meet you again.”

She took your phone gently, fingers moving quickly as she typed something in.

“Oh - do you want my Instagram too, oppa?” she asked, glancing up with a slight tilt of her head. “Just in case Kakao feels too formal.”

“Sure. Just head into the app and follow your account.” you chuckled.

She did exactly that, tapping around before handing it back to you. You looked at the contact name and had to bite a laugh back.

워녕이녕이🐰

(Wonyoungie🐰)

“A bunny?” you asked.

She looked smug, proud of herself.

“People say I look like one.”

“Hmm, accurate.”

You barely had time to glance up when two other girls walked in - both stylish, maybe around Wonyoung’s age, laughing about something between them. One girl spotted her first.

“Wonyoung-ah!”

Wonyoung turned, eyes lighting up.

“Oh, unnie. Here!”

But then, the other girl’s gaze shifted to you - and paused. Recognition ran straight to your brain instantly.

“Haejoon-oppa?”

“Yena?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The four of you ended up at the same table, drinks in hands. Yena sat between you and Wonyoung, occasionally throwing glances your way, while Hyewon, her other friend, chimed in now and then with curiosity.

Yena and you had always had a nice relationship - playful jabs, easy conversation and banter, which was easy when you did military service with her older brother years ago. She’d seen you through highs and lows. Wonyoung seemed both surprised and amused - not uncomfortable. If anything, she looked a little more relaxed now, sipping her coffee as conversations bounced around. Then, in a moment when the other two were distracted, Yena leaned in closer to you while lowering her voice.

“Oppa… are you cheating on Jimin in Hong Kong?”

You froze a bit, the question hitting harder than it should’ve. You absolutely forgot about Jimin when Wonyoung got here. Which was incredible - considering Jimin was on your mind 24/7 ever since you landed in Hong Kong.

“No.” you swallowed once. “We broke up like almost two weeks ago.”

Yena’s brow lifted. “Really?”

You nodded slowly.

“Just before I left for Hong Kong. She didn’t tell anyone yet, I guess.”

She leaned back slightly, eyes scanning your face, maybe she was trying to figure out if you were serious or you were considering cheating on Jimin with the girl sitting next to her. You met Yena’s gaze. You weren’t in the mood to defend yourself - especially when things already ended the way it did.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” her voice genuine, a mix of apology and shock.

“I mean… it hadn’t been good for a while.”

Yena didn’t press further. She just nodded the turned back toward the others, tone shifting back to light as if nothing just happened. Then, you felt Wonyoung glancing at you - her gaze was curious. She hadn’t heard the exchange. But something told you she noticed the shift in your face. And you weren’t sure if that made you uneasy or a little more drawn to her.

How did I forget about Jimin so easily when you got here?

The conversation drifted back into easier topics - the weather, their trip, stuff in Hong Kong. You stayed mostly quiet, letting the girls talk, sipping your coffee while catching Wonyoung’s gaze looking at you now and then. Then, Yena suggested, casually.

“Oh, oppa. We’re going to eat somewhere at those skyline places tonight. Wanna come?”

Wonyoung looked at you. Her lips pressed like she was trying not to smile but the tiniest spark lit up in her eyes. She didn’t say anything right away, but the others knew.

You looked at Hyewon.

“Are you sure?”

She just smiled and shrugged, totally chill.

“It’s fine, oppa. More people, more food.”

Yena raised an eyebrow at you, half a smirk on her face - clearly excited.

“Soooo?”

Your gaze turned to Wonyoung, who now was clearly staring right at you.

“Umm… yeah, I’m in.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You sat on your bed in the nice hotel room that Barom booked for you, studio money - crazy money by the way. You were still in your suit, tie slightly loosened now. A lot went through your mind after you left the cafe. For some reason, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts for too long. Like usual, you tapped into your contacts and hit call on your favorite person whenever you were in a situation like this

[다빈형] (Dabin-hyung)

He picked up on the third ring.

“Uh. You alive over there? In lovely Hong Kong?”

“Barely.” you let out a breath, tired. “Also, hyung, are you on the toilet?”

“I’m efficient with my time, man.” he said, completely unbothered. “What’s up? You miss me or are you in trouble right now?”

You rubbed your face. “No, not really.” “Got time to walk around Hong Kong yet? You’ve been there for like one, two weeks?”

“Barely.”

“Site visits killed you already?”

“Nope, not that.” you lied back on the back, staring at the ceiling.

“I met someone today.”

There was a short pause. Then a groan came from the other line.

“Damn… Don’t tell me you fell in love mid site visit like that. Is she from Hong Kong? Or is it a he? Wait… is it a he?”

“Hyung, shut up. It’s not like that. I just… I don’t know. I feel weird.”

“What kind of weird?”

You hesitated.

“Good weird, I think... Bad timing.”

“You thinking about her again?” Dabin hummed knowingly.

You didn’t even have to mention who her was.

“I forgot about Jimin today,” you said. “Just… like completely forgot. The second this girl walked in.”

“Is she from Hong Kong?”

“Uh… no, from Korea. Seoul. Lives near Yeonnam-dong too. Super weird.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not kidding.”

“She’s traveling with her two friends. One of them is a close friend of mine, I enlisted with her brother at the same time.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Yeah, but this girl… She’s bubbly, cute, beautiful… said she’s about to open a floral studio with her friends. There’s something about her, flirty but just enough. She… uh.” you trailed off, suddenly self conscious.

“She called me oppa like five minutes after meeting me. I swear, hyung, my brain just shut off right there.”

A snort came from the other line.

“Jesus Christ. You’re down bad.” he said, his American accent popping off.

“I’m not, hyung.”

“You are, Haejoon-ah. You forgot your ex for hours because the way a pretty stranger said oppa sounded so sweet. That’s not normal, at least for you.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face.

“I’m just… confused, okay? I didn’t plan for this.”

“No one plans to fall in love in foreign land, Haejoon-ah. It just happens.”

You laughed, maybe at yourself.

“She’s different, hyung. She’s bold but sweet, confident but also shy. She actually listened when I talked about my architecture license exam - like, really listened.”

“Huh… that’s a first. You rant for hours about this and it always scares women off.”

“C’mon, man.”

A beat passed, then Dabin’s voice softened.

“Look, I get it. You’re in a weird place - post breakup, in Hong Kong, maybe tired from all the work. But it feels ok to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is yet. Just overthink it too much.”

You closed your eyes for a second.

“I’m having dinner with them tonight.”

“Already? I thought you’re shy and all.”

“No, not like that. Yena’s there. Our mutual friend. She invited me.”

“And you said yes.”

You hesitated. “Well… yeah.”

“Good.” he sounded satisfied.

“At worst, free dinner and maybe a decent view. At best, you get a second chance at romance.”

You didn’t reply to him right away.

“Maybe I’m her type.” you added under your breath.

“The way she talked to me… you know.”

Another snort.

“You’re so screwed.”

You stayed quiet for a second, and he didn’t let that slide.

“Seriously, though - this is why you can’t do casual, Haejoon-ah. You were built to be a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m not-” you groaned.

“You are, dumbass.” he cut in, in English, then the latter part back in Korean.

“You look and act quiet all the time but deep down you want to be in love. You just won’t admit it.”

You turned around on the bed.

“She smiled so prettily, hyung.”

“Oh god.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. That’s what makes this fun to watch.”

You smiled a little.

“Shut up and get out of the toilet, man.”

“Already did. I multitask really well.”

You shook your head.

“Anyway, thanks hyung.”

“Anytime, man. Don’t overthink stuff. You always do that. Wear something good and enjoy the dinner. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I overthink a lot.”

“Yeah, go impress your floral girl. I’m out.”

And he hung up. You stayed there for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling again. Maybe you were really screwed. But you didn’t hate the feeling.

The steam still lingered faintly in the bathroom mirror when you stepped out of the shower. Were you nervous? Not too sure. You dried off and ran your hands through your hair and sprayed on a bit of cologne. Then you reached for the shirt - the striped Oxford you’d laid out before the shower. Clean lines, soft fabric. It slipped on easy, giving a casual but sharp vibe - yeah, you’d pulled this off before. You rolled the sleeves and went for the white trousers. Not quite clean fit but slightly wide legged, relaxed. Your shoes were black, polished, a little more formal but complimented the look well. Casual, comfortable, but presentable. Just the right line between effortless and intentional, you thought so.

You were reaching for your watch and glasses when your phone buzzed on the bed. It was Dabin.

[다빈형]

don’t chicken out man

just act like your normal self and you’ll be fine

You stared at the screen, lips twitching. Typical. You slid on your watch, put on the glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You didn’t forget to grab the wallet before reaching for the door.

Let’s see where the night goes.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped into what felt like another world. Hong Kong was really like those 90s movies, or even better. The restaurant wasn’t open air, it didn’t need to be with this kind of view. Glasses stretched from floor to ceiling, wrapping around the entire dining space, revealing the Hong Kong skyline in its night glory. The scenery below shimmered like jewels, skyscrapers glowing in all kinds of colors as the city exhaled into the night. On the far side, Victoria Peak…is it Victoria Peak?... cast a quiet silhouette against the fading sunset. Inside, the lighting was soft and warm - elegant and expansive. It was decorated with polished floors and golden accents. Everything didn’t feel loud - just intentional, to emphasize that quiet luxury vibe. A curved bar hugged one side of the room. Every detail, from the wine bottles gleaming to the jazz music felt like it was designed to make you stay longer and spend more.

You scanned around the space - there they were. Near the window, seated at probably one of the best tables in the restaurant, Wonyoung along with Hyewon and Yena looked like they really belonged there. And next to Wonyoung, an empty seat was waiting for you. Here we go. You exhaled once, calming yourself before walking toward them.

Yena spotted you first as she lit up and raised one hand, half standing from her seat.

“Oppa! Over here.”

Hyewon turned and gave you a small, friendly wave.

Wonyoung looked up at you briefly then dropped her gaze with a small smile. A bit shy, maybe. You reached for the table. She was wearing a tweed mini-dress, the kind of clothing that looked straight out of a Milan runway but still fit her like it was custom made. Those golden sequin trimming sat at the collar, cuffs, and hem - giving her look a playful yet youthful, elegant vibe. It caught the warm restaurant lighting so well whenever she moved. Her hair was down, long and softly curled over one shoulder. Her bangs emphasized her features so well, giving her an almost doll like vibe. But it wasn’t just about the look. The way she carried herself - composed, like she was completely at ease in this kind of place.

This girl must come from royalty.

You found yourself smiling at Wonyoung before you even realized it.

“Sorry, I’m late.” you said, adjusting your watch out of habit. “Hong Kong traffic was insane.”

Yena scoffed dramatically.

“We were about to order without you, oppa.”

“Yah, you were not.” Hyewon added with a laugh, nudging Yena lightly.

Wonyoung didn’t say anything, fingers fiddling with her wine glass before looking up at you again.

“At least you made it.” she smiled.

You scratch the back of your neck out of habit.

“Yeah… wouldn’t want to miss the view,” you said, eyes flicking briefly to hers before quickly adding.

“I mean, the city - the skyline.”

Wonyoung looked like she was trying not to smile too much. You nodded towards the empty seat toward the empty seat beside her.

“This one mine?”

“Obviously, oppa.” Yena smirked. “Where else?”

You then carefully slid into the seat beside Wonyoung - close enough to catch the subtle perfume she wore, faint but lingering. Deadly. Her arm brushed lightly against yours as she shifted, and neither of you moved away too quickly.

“Glad you could make it.” she whispered loud enough for the two of you to hear.

You turned your head, this time not able to look her in the eyes.

“Me too. You look stunning by the way.”

That made her pause for just a short beat. Then her smile appeared - a little shy, a little warm.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, oppa.” Wonyoung tilted her head.

“That shirt looks really good on you.”

It was your turn to be shy, unsure whether to thank or deflect this time, but-

“So how’s Hong Kong treating you, oppa?” Yena cut in, her eyes glinting as she leaned across the table with her face in her palm. “Working hard? Or just pretending to?”

You exhaled, wasn’t even sure if you were thankful or disappointed with this vibe shift.

“Umm… both, I guess. It’s not a big project but we’re packing in as much as we can.”

“What’s the project again?” Hyewon asked, curious.

“A small hotel in Sheung Wan. Mostly renovation. Nothing massive but enough to keep me up the past few nights.”

Wonyoung gave you a knowing glance.

“Sounds like you don’t get enough sleep.”

The corner of your mouth was tugging upward.

“Yeah, well… comes with the job, I guess. Can’t really complain.”

She hummed softly in response - like she understood more than she let on.

“Still… I hope you get at least one good night here. Would be a waste otherwise.”

You glanced at her, something light but still meaningful passed between the two of you.

“Sooo” Yena cut in, eyes sharp with curiosity. “What’s it like back in Korea? Your job, I mean. You said your studio’s in Seoul, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s on Mapo-gu side. I got snapped up right after I finished the five year program, it was hell - honestly.”

“Architecture major?” Hyewon asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, SNU. Lucky enough to land the job straight out. The team’s pretty tight - a younger studio but we’ve been gaining attention lately. That’s why I can’t sleep these days.”

“Ooh, smart and stable.” Yena said with a fake dramatic tone. “Sounds like someone’s type.”

Wonyoung muttered something under her breath, half laughing.

You ignored the burning feeling on your ears and continued.

“The pay’s not insane, but good enough for me to afford a nice apartment, help my family and still have enough to save… or splurge once in a while. I’m taking the architect license exam this year so… hopefully better pay after that.”

“Help your family?” Hyewon repeated. “That’s really good of you.”

You nodded, now a little self conscious under the weight of their attention.

“I mean… they did a lot for me. Wouldn’t be here without them.”

Wonyoung gently traced the rim of her wine glass. The way she looked at you had changed. Warmer. Respectful, maybe. Enough to kill you.

“And what do you splurge on, oppa?” Yena swooped back in with a grin. “Don’t say boring stuff like books or anything like that.”

You chuckled.

“I mean… I bought a nice car off from a friend a year ago. Sometimes… travel, hobbies if I have time. And, you know - those dinners where my friends drag me out and the wine list has names I can’t even pronounce but I pretend anyway.”

That earned a laugh from Hyewon.

Wonyoung tilted her head.

“Ooh, red or white, oppa?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I mean, they taste the same to me. Anything is fine, depends on the company.”

Wonyoung blinked before looking away at the Hong Kong skyline with a breathy laugh, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear like she was trying to compose herself.

“Oh, wow.” Yena muttered.

“You really are someone’s type.”

You looked down at your glass. You didn’t mean to put it like that. Whatever the case was, it lingered in the air between you and Wonyoung, even as Hyewon and Yena picked the conversation back up.

“Okay, we need food before I get drunk. Who’s hungry now?” Hyewon was already looking at the waiter.

You relaxed into your seat, feeling Wonyoung leaning closer to you. But neither of you pulled away.

By the time the food arrived, the atmosphere had settled into something warmer. Comfortable. It came with good drinks and beautiful Hong Kong city lights, with laughter spilling out between bites. You were swirling your wine glass absentmindedly, half listening to Yena and Hyewon debate over where to go after this. Then the conversation drifted again.

“So how was that spot you and Yena-unnie went to see? The one near the bookstore?” Hyewon turned to Wonyoung as she asked. Wonyoung’s face lit up instantly.

“Oh, it was actually so cute.” she said, nodding. “In Yeonnam-dong, not too big but the lighting’s really great. Especially in the afternoon.”

“And the outside looks beautiful too.” Yena added, grinning. “We were already planning a small coffee counter in front and Instagram photo spots.”

Hyewon looked impressed.

“You two were out there for like, what, over two hours?”

“Over one hour, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, smiling. “But we saw the vision.”

You looked between them, your architect side was genuinely intrigued now.

“Sounds like a solid location.”

“It is,” Wonyoung said, her voice certain. “We’ve been talking about this studio for so long, it finally feels like it’s happening.”

“We’re just basically waiting on the right person to help us design it,” Yena added, throwing glances your way.

Hyewon caught the way Yena looked at you and smirked. “You’re not even subtle now.”

You raised your eyebrows, not saying anything yet. Wonyoung, however, didn’t look away.

“We had someone before, but the timing didn’t work out. So…” she said, calm. “We’re open to new ideas.”

Then she tilted her head just slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

“Or maybe the right person’s already here.”

A short pause arrived at the table. You exhaled a small laugh, surprised but not at all opposed.

“That sounds a lot like a pitch.”

She smirked, smiling into her wine glass. You glanced down at your plate, suddenly a little more aware of how warm your face felt.

“I mean, I could show you guys some on the projects I’ve worked on. If you’re curious.”

Wonyoung looked up first.

“Really, oppa?”

“Yeah, I got a few files on my phone. Not all flashy, but solid enough.”

“Solid enough?” Yena said. “You’re underselling yourself, oppa.”

“I’m just saying.” you muttered, “They’re not exactly viral cafe material or anything.”

“Still.” Wonyoung said, her tone softer now. “We’d love to see them.”

Her gaze lingered, warm and steady. She really meant it.

“We’re serious.” she added. “Send them later. Or show us now if you want.”

You hesitated for half a second, then reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, unlocking it with a swipe.

“...Okay. Just don’t expect an aesthetic Pinterest board.”

Yena immediately. “Don’t worry, oppa. We’re not like that.”

You opened an app and tapped into a folder you hadn’t shared with anyone in a while now - site photos, render stuff, construction shots and a few finished interior works. Some cafes, a private rooftop home renovation, even a small art gallery for a chaebol’s daughter tucked in some corner of Gangnam-gu, that project paid really well. All designed just the way you liked it.

The three of them scooted in without hesitation, gathering on your side of the table. Yena leaned over your right shoulder. Hyewon peered in from across the table, leaning closer to get a better look. And Wonyoung - she was right next to you, too close. You could smell her perfume again. Then, without warning, she shifted even closer and rested her chin or your shoulder, like it was nothing. You felt like you were clinically dead. Her fingers reached out for the cuff of your rolled up sleeve. She began fidgeting with the fabric - gently folding it up and down, smoothing it out like it needed her help. Like she knew she was clearly setting every nerve in your arm on fire. Your breath stopped for a moment and your heart felt like it forgot how to beat. No one else seemed to notice.

For the next fifteen minutes, the restaurant faded out. They asked about your lighting choices, space planning, even what kind of clients you dealt with.

“You can go into the other folder. There are more pictures…uh, easier to see how they turned out.” you said.

Wonyoung lifted her chin slightly and reached forward, tapping the screen.

“This one?”

“Yeah, that’s the finished shot.”

Her eyes scanned the photo, then she smiled - drawing you in.

“I like how you designed this space,” she pointed at a spot on the screen. “It feels like a nice touch. Like it’s lived in.”

And then - as if it was the most natural thing in the world - she replaced the hand that had been playing with your sleeves with the other one, letting her fingers drift along the back of your hand. She traced small circles there. You knew, she was actively trapping you with the gentlest, most casual touch in history.

She’s got you good now.

You didn’t even know how to feel anymore. She didn’t look at you but her fingers never stopped moving. Yena and Hyewon, on the other hand, were busy talking and discussing about how the design would fit into their studio - where the flower prep area could be, how much the light could control the whole space, how their storage area could be hidden. And then, Yena swiped one more time before pausing.

That photo. You were standing in the middle of a large gallery, dressed sharp and clean. On one side, Moon Seo-yoon - the chaebol’s daughter - radiant in a white jumpsuit. On the other side, her supermodel friend, Lee Gawon. Their arms hooked through yours and leaning a little too close to your shoulder, Gawon's face tilted toward yours like she had something to tell you.

Oh fuck. That wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“Wait, oppa.” Yena gasped. “Is that you?”

You cleared your throat, dreading this already.

“Uh, yeah, The small art gallery for the chaebol’s daughter I told you guys about a few minutes ago. That’s… uh, Moon Seo-yoon. The opening for her art gallery.”

Hyewon leaned in closer to confirm. “The Shinsegae girl?! You worked with her?”

“Uh… yeah,” you muttered, the wine glass suddenly looked so interesting.

Yena squinted at the screen. “Is that… Gawon?! The model Gawon?!”

You nodded slowly.

“Yeah, she’s friends with Seo-yoon. That was…kind of a last-minute invite.”

Yena let out a low whistle. “You really are in the higher society, oppa.”

“No, I’m not that kind of person. I just… work with them a lot.”

And just as you were mentally preparing for another disaster to strike, you felt Wonyoung’s fingers rhythm change - no more circles. She pinched the skin near your knuckle.

Once.

Twice.

Quick. Barely painful but somehow definitely felt too territorial. You turned your head slowly to look at her, your eyes wide. Wonyoung wasn’t looking at you - her face was perfectly neutral, like she was just watching Yena scrolling on the phone and nothing else. She nodded, playing along. You felt like she just claimed ownership of you in front of her two best friends. But her fingers returned to exactly where they were moments ago, this time resting against yours.

And then, just as your heart began to settle, Wonyoung launched another attack. You felt a soft pressure on your shoe, the tip of hers stepping lightly on yours under the table. Just enough to let you know she was there. That she knew exactly what she was doing. You couldn’t move. Not when she had a hold of your hand and foot.

Your ears were burning. Your chest was tight. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

Wonyoung said nothing. Then-

“Wait-” Yena spoke up, rescuing you from the moment. “Is that who I think it is?”

Hyewon gasped. “No way.”

“Huh?” you blinked, dazed.

“This one.” Yena turned the photo to show a photo of you, maybe a few months ago. You, standing inside of what looked like a sleek, private room. Behind you were works of art - like actual pieces from international artists, you didn’t know who they were but their paintings seemed too expensive for you. They didn’t pay attention to that. But more importantly, right beside you stood T.O.P from BIGBANG, hand over your shoulders, smiling while wearing sunglasses even indoors. To your left, an actor and some directors. Well, not an ameteur actor. It was the Lee Byung-hun. Yena looked at you, mouth open.

“Oppa. You know T.O.P and Lee Byung-hun? Why does he have his arm over your shoulder like you two hang out?”

“It was his gallery room at his house.” you replied, the pressure of Wonyoung was still on yours, like she was still making a silent claim.

“I helped… uh, worked on that. Not alone, obviously. But he was really cool. I've been a big fan of BIGBANG since I was a kid so…”

“You were at his house?” Hyewon asked, eyes wide.

“Just for meetings and other stuff.” you said quickly. “And a few celebrations.”

Yena shook her head in disbelief.

“Is this normal for you? Like high profile people and celebrities?”

You let out a breath, thinking of what to say. “No, not really. Our studio does a lot of stuff for those people, private commissions and stuff. I just happened to end up working with them sometimes.” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

None of those celebrities, those clients had ever made you feel as dismantled as you felt right now - under Wonyoung’s control. Still, you haven’t said a thing. No one else noticed the power struggle happening at the table, except the two of you. Wonyoung was winning. Effortlessly. Quietly.

Eventually, Yena passed your phone back with a shocked look in her eyes, muttering something about reevaluating her life. Hyewon sipped her drink and leaned back, stretching. Everyone shifted in her seats, the dinner settled back to its normal rhythm. Wonyoung drew her hand back and sat properly in her chair, crossed one leg over the other and turned her head towards you - her eyes soft and her voice calm.

“Oppa.” she opened, casually. “About the floral studio…”

You looked over at her, trying not to look too hopeful.

“Would you, you know… maybe help us with it?”

Her tone was light, but she didn’t smile this time. Like she really meant it.

“We want something warm and open. Something people walk into and just feel good by already being there. I think…” she paused, searching your face. “You get what we’re going for.”

There came the offer. No teasing anymore. Just honesty. You blinked twice before answering.

“Yeah… of course, I’d love to. Need a call to my boss but he trusts me.”

And this time, Wonyoung smiled.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

Before either of you could say anything, Yena clapped her hands together.

“Then let’s celebrate. More drinks. Yayyy!”

Hyewon raised her glass.

“Yayy! Cheers to our studio.”

“And to our new architect oppa who we found in Hong Kong.” Yena added, raising her glass.

You laughed under your breath as your glass clinked with theirs. Wonyoung took a sip, this one longer than the last ones. A few minutes passed in relaxed chatter, then Yena turned to Wonyoung, who was now resting her cheek on one hand, the other playing with her glass.

“Wonyoung-ah,” Yena said, suspiciously. “Are you okay? You know you’re a light drinker.”

“I’m fine, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, too quickly as she straightened up in her seat. “Totally fine.”

“You say that everytime.” Hyewon laughed.

“She’s almost at that stage.” Yena explained to you.

“She’s about to get all red, pouty and whiny. It’s slowly coming now.”

“I don’t pout.” Wonyoung mumbled in her breath, definitely pouting. You bit back a smile and looked into the scenery before she caught it.

When the bill came and the plates were cleared, the mood stayed light. Yena stretched and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“We were gonna walk around a bit before heading back to the hotel. Maybe grab something light to eat along the way.”

Hyewon then turned to you.

“You should come with us, oppa. You’re already out, might as well stay longer, right?”

Wonyoung looked up at you then, eyes softer, sparkling under the warm lights. You paused.

“Yeah. Sure… Why not?”

The Hong Kong night air had cooled down just enough for the walk to feel nice. The four of you strolled along the Tsim Tsa Tsui Promenade, shoes tapping against the stone path as the city night life goes on in the background. Stunning. The skyline glittered on the other side of the water - skyscrapers lit up in colors, typical Hong Kong.

Yena and Hyewon had drifted ahead, laughing at something between them. You knew it wasn’t an accident. They didn’t walk too fast - just far enough to leave you and Wonyoung behind. Wonyoung? She was blushing now - cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling from the wine, her steps were slower and a bit uneven. She was still very elegant. But her restraint was on a thin line, in the most dangerous way possible. And then, this girl reached for your shirt collar. Two fingers, light grip. Enough to pull you down, her lips were close to your ear, too close. You stiffened, holding back your breath.

And then, she whispered, slow and warm:

“...I know about your ex, oppa.”

Your heart dropped, heavy.

What the fuck?

“Yu Jimin.” she added. “Yena-unnie told me about her.”

You didn’t move any further. Well, you couldn’t anyway.

“She was beautiful, you know.” Wonyoung murmured, candies to your ear.

“I spent like thirty minutes stalking her Instagram when I got back from the cafe.”

Her breath was so soft, hitting your ear and neck. Warm too. Her words did things to you that you couldn’t describe.

“Perfect skin. Beautiful face. The kind of girl that people noticed even when she’s not trying. Nice… body, too.”

You swallowed hard. You didn’t know what that tone of her was. Jealousy? Bitterness? That made it even worse. Then, Wonyoung let out a quietest laugh, enough to kill you.

“I was really sad when I thought you were one of those guys, you know? Fresh out of a breakup, walking around all polished and lonely. Looking for some new girl to satisfy your needs.”

No, I’m definitely not that type of guy.

She paused then pulled back slightly - just enough to tilt her head and look up at you, lashes heavy, smile lazy from too much wine.

“Oppa, you’re not those guys, right? 환승연애*…?”

*환승연애/hwanseung yeonae: like transit love, when some one’s fresh off a relationship, starting a new one but still deeply in love with the previous lover. Popular term recently in Korean, it went off due to a few dating programs.

Those words hit harder than any punch you ever took. You were about to answer, opening your mouth when Wonyoung cut in.

“Yena-unnie vouched for you. Said you were a really nice, serious guy. Proper. Mature. The kind of man who does not play around. Just my type, oppa.” her smile widened, just enough.

And then she slid her hand up, slowly, calculated - the one that had been resting at her side, brushing over your chest before moving up to your throat, tracing around. Then, she hooked her finger at the second button of your shirt and unbuttoned it. Just one. But it felt like she had just stripped away all of your remaining confidence. Wonyoung then looked up, her voice low, dangerous.

“I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

You blinked.

“And I’ve never acted like this around anyone before…sober or drunk.”

And then she decided to finish you off with one last action. She poked you on your chest - right where your heart was - a few times, lightly.

“So… you better gain my trust, oppa.”

Wonyoung didn’t wait for a reply. She knew she had you in the palm of her hand. She turned and kept walking to catch up with Hyewon and Yena. Her hair was flowing in the wind, shining under the city glow.

Am I in a 90s Hong Kong romance?

You stood there for a few seconds. Breath shallow, chest burning. One button undone. Wonyoung did all that to you in just under one day. You dragged your hand over your face and exhaled.

Fuck…

The four of you eventually reached the end of the promenade, a quieter area where Yena was calling for the rides, Hyewon humming something while scrolling on her phone. Wonyoung was leaning slightly against a railing, Miu Miu bag over her shoulder. This girl looked far too classy and elegant to be tipsy - until you walked to her. She turned to you when you approached, eyes a bit wide, lips pouting in that dreamy, tipsy fashion.

She could kill a thousand men with that look.

“Oppa.” she muttered.

“Was I crazy… or annoying today?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Just wondering.” She leaned in again - the same way she had all night.

“I don’t act this way normally. Or touch that much. Or…”

Her voice dropped, sultry but still had you waiting.

“...look at someone like this before. I just want to let you know that.”

Without waiting for your answer, she reached up to adjust the collar of your shirt, her knuckles intentionally brushing your jaw.

“I’m a little drunk.” she whispered, cheeks blazing. What were you supposed to say now?

“But I still know what I’m doing, oppa.”

Her eyes wide, glassy, shining under the city glow. You could feel that lingering closeness. Then Yena called her, standing near a car. Wonyoung blinked slowly, like she didn’t want to let go before taking a small step back. One hand brushing her hair, the other playing with her expensive bag. Before she left, she said just one more thing. An order. Her voice low, sultry.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

And then she walked away. You were now at a new chapter in your life.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That night, you were on your bed. The hotel ceiling felt like it was spinning slowly above. Not from the wine, you were sure. You were on your phone, looking at her Instagram.

@for_everyoung10 - she already hit the follow button when you gave her your phone to add her contacts. She had already followed you back too.

140K followers. Not a celebrity. Not an influencer. Just… Jang Wonyoung. She wasn’t exactly a model either. But you could tell a few small local brands already caught on - tagged her in photoshoots for linen clothing, soft pastel colored clothing, “princess core” type of fashion. Nothing over the top. All clean, natural. Wonyoung looked like she belonged in every frame. You scrolled. Slowly.

A few GRWM (get ready with me) vlogs in her reels.

“Hi guys, get ready with me to…”

“Today I’m going for a smart casual look…”

“I’m using this foundation from…”

Fuck… her voice is so addicting.

A few clips of her dancing around with Yena and Hyewon somewhere.

A few clips of her trying out new cafes with her other friends.

You kept going. You didn’t even know you were smiling. Or that your chest was beating irregularly. What the hell was she doing to you? You were still staring at her feed when it hit you.

Shit. The studio.

You had casually agreed to a design project on the spot - with a girl who’d unbuttoned your shirt, poked your heart and walked off like she hadn’t messed up your whole system. You sighed before tapping on the group chat with Dabin and Barom.

[You]

you guys up?

[바롬보스] (Barom Boss)

barely. why? don’t tell me u got arrested in hongkong?

[다빈형]

is it that girl again?

it’s 12am in korea rn

[You]

video?

The screen flashed. Incoming video call. You answered.

Barom’s face filled the top corner, probably on his bed too. Dabin joined later - his face already grinning.

“Okay.” Barom said. “Talk.”

You rolled over on the bed.

“Hyung, I may have… accepted another project.”

Dabin squinted. “Define may have.”

Barom raised a brow. “Define project”

You sighed.

“A floral studio. In words. In Yeonnam-dong.”

Then Barom broke into a laugh, switching to English with his Australian accent.

“A what? Since when do you design flower shops?”

“Since he met that dreamy girl this morning.” Dabin added, not without laughing.

“Why do I have to talk to you guys in English everytime?” you said.

“Deal with it. I’m your boss, us two are 교포*.” Barom replied.

*교포/gyopo: ethnic Korean but born and raised/living in foreign countries.

“Heritage.” Dabin said.

“So what’s the story? Client fell for your crisp suit and mysterious vibe.” Barom asked.

“Nothing like that.” you replied.

“Tell us.”

“So they’re just starting the studio - flower based shop, maybe a small coffee counter at the front, photo friendly interior. It’s been a passion project for them. They had someone to work on it but it didn’t work out. Wonyoung - the girl, asked me over dinner. I said yes before thinking too much about it.”

“Wonyoung?” Barom asked, confused.

“The girl I’m… you know.” you replied, rubbing your temple.

Barom nodded, like he understood exactly what you meant.

“Look, I get it. Your performance over the past few months has been solid. And honestly, we don’t have a crazy load right now. You’ve been clean on deadlines since day one. As long as it doesn’t clash with other projects, I’m okay with it. But…”

He stared right at you through the screen.

“Don’t take the job just because she’s pretty. That shit doesn’t end well.”

Dabin nodded.

“Yeah, especially with you, man.”

“C’mon, man.” you replied.

“But hey, I trust you. When you come back from Hong Kong, talk to me more about this and if it’s okay, I’ll send you out to lead this project. Like usual, you do most of the work and I just take a look at it before signing it off. Perfect teamwork.”

“Hey, thanks, man. I appreciate this trip, you know. After the break up and all that.”

Barom nodded, understanding your position.

“Yeah, you needed a break. Honestly, I should’ve made you take one sooner.”

“You almost worked yourself into death.” Dabin added.

“C’mon man…” you sighed.

“So how did you meet this girl?” Barom asked.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

After 30 minutes of video call, you set the phone down on your chest, exhaling slowly to calm yourself down. For a second, it was quiet before your phone buzzed.

[워녕이녕이🐰] sent you 2 images

You didn’t even have the chance to text her first. This girl always managed to surprise you. You tapped on the notification.

Wonyoung on her bed - makeup still there, cheeks a little flushed, long hair splayed around in that messy perfect way. The light was warm. Soft. Your brain short circuited immediately. Still staring when another text came. Stunning.

[워녕이녕이🐰]

do i look cute?

hyewon unnie took it for me

she said i looked like i was in a drama ㅋㅋㅋ

You hovered over the keyboard. Typing before you backspaced. Rewrote it.

[You]

i think you just ended me

[워녕이녕이🐰]

so should i post it on insta?

or…

keep this between us?

like a gift for u

Your heart skipped. You didn’t even know how to answer.

Damn… she got you good.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

yayy!! wony is the best!!! so i tried something new. at least that's what i thought. pls let me know what u guys think about this. i had a lot of fun writing this. thanks for reading!!

#male reader #kpop #kpop male reader #fluff #wonyoung x male reader #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung #ive #jang wonyoung #izone #yena #kang hyewon #m!reader #Spotify #wonyoung fluff

321 notes · View notes

wonyology · 14 days ago

Text

Blueprints Of Us

(m!reader x IVE's WONYOUNG) - part IV

part I - part II - part III - part IV (finished)

masterlist

Tags(?): fluff, angst, some "dangerous" details but not over the line (i don't write smut), i don't even know man

WONYOUNG x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~16.9k

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The first thing you registered was how cold your nose felt. The second was the weight of her leg slung across your thigh, tangled in the blanket Wonyoung clearly fought for during the night. Her hand was tucked somewhere under your shirt. She wore your t-shirt, the one she’d stolen to sleep in last night, claiming her pajamas “didn’t feel right”. Typical Wonyoung.

Outside, it was still a bit dark. 6:21AM. Barely 7. You could see the faint outline of rooftops dusted with snow, glowing blue from the streetlights. Seoul was in its winter mood - everything felt muted and a little too cold unless you were buried under a shared blanket. Wonyoung was still asleep, breathing slowly as one cheek squished against your chest, her lips slightly parted. Her hair was a bit messy, strands falling in every direction. You would've laughed if your chest wasn’t aching from how stupidly pretty she looked like that.

Your phone buzzed somewhere under your pillow but you didn’t reach for it. Instead, you brushed your thumb along her back, slow, under the fabric of your t-shirt. Wonyoung flinched just a bit from your touch, groaned softly and nuzzled closer.

“You’re warm, oppa.” she muttered, voice hoarse.

“You clingy, baby.”

“I’m cold,” she pouted against your chest.

“You’re literally wearing my t-shirt, princess.”

“Okay.” she paused. “But emotionally cold. I need physical warmth to compensate.”

You let out a laugh.

“So dramatic in the morning.”

She poked your stomach under the blanket.

“So grumpy in the morning. Better get used to it, oppa.”

You then caught her hand gently, brought it up to your lips and kissed her knuckles. That shut Wonyoung up real fast.

“...Oppa.”

“What?”

“You can’t do boyfriend stuff this early.”

“Kinda late for warnings, Wonyoung-ah.”

Wonyoung buried her face back into your chest and groaned.

“Let’s just not get up, oppa. Call in sick. Say you caught feelings and need recovery time.”

“Barom-hyung would tell me to grow up.”

She tilted her head up to look at you. “What if I say it’s my fault?”

“Maybe he’d tell me to take a week off and stay by your side.”

“See?” Wonyoung beamed. “Smart boss.”

You looked down at her, hand playing with her cheek. “You’re warm now?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I should get up.”

“Never.” she said, closing her eyes again. “You passed your exam. I deserve more cuddles.”

You sighed then wrapped your arms around her tighter - not because she asked, but because she needed. Because in that quiet Seoul December morning, in that apartment, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be.

6:50AM

You had barely shifted the blanket off when Wonyoung let out a dramatic groan and reached up, arms locking tight around your neck.

“Where do you think you are going, oppa?” she mumbled.

“Making breakfast.” you said, half sitting up.

“No, you’re not.”

Wonyoung pulled herself into your lap like gravity didn’t apply to her. Her legs hooked around your waist, knees pressing into your sides and her arms clung tighter until her entire body was pressed to your front - chest to chest, cheek resting on your shoulder.

“I gotta make us breakfast, baby.”

“I’m cold.” she said, muffled.

“You have the blanket.”

“I want you, oppa.”

You tried to stand but Wonyoung didn’t budge, her legs just tightened around you like a warning. You groaned, hands automatically settling on her hips, then sliding lower to support her thighs and the ridiculous length of her legs.

“Your legs are too long, Jang Wonyoung.”

She smirked against your chest.

“Not my fault I was built for wrapping around you, oppa.”

You didn’t answer. You were too busy walking toward the kitchen, one clingy gorgeous girlfriend still wrapped around your torso like a deluxe human scarf. Her lips brushed against your collarbone lazily, like she was also possessive while sleepy.

“Baby, you know I actually need my hands to cook, right?”

She lifted her head just enough to look at you - eyes still heavy with sleep, but her lips curved into a smug little smile.

“Multitask, architect-nim.”

You rested Wonyoung gently against the counter for half a second so you could grab a pan - only for her to pull you back in, legs tightening again.

“Baby…” you laughed under your breath. “How am I supposed to cook like this?”

She leaned up, eyes twinkling.

“Figure it out, oppa. You’re smart. You design buildings for a living.”

You sighed, already giving in. With one arm still holding her snug against you, you reached for the pan again. Only this time, your free hand slid down instinctively, gripping the underside of her thigh and landing firmly on her butt to steady her weight. Tight. Secure. Functional. Just like how you design your buildings. Maybe a little too confident.

Wonyoung froze and tilted her head, expression loaded with judgement.

“Oppa.” she said, voice low. “Are you using this as an excuse to grab my butt?”

You didn’t even look down at Wonyoung.

“It’s something called structural support, baby. I’m an architect.”

“Structural support?” she repeated. ��You’re not designing a building, you’re holding your girlfriend!”

You adjusted your grip slightly tighter, unapologetically.

“You’re a skyscraper with legs so you need support. Like that Garak Tower East in Secho-gu.”

Wonyoung took a moment to process. She tilted her head as she tried to visualize the building - sleek, modern, all glass and curves just in the right places. Sexy in a high budget, skyline defining kind of way-

“Yah!” she smacked your shoulder, laughing. “Did you just call me tall and curvy?”

“I complimented you, in architectural terms.”

“That wasn’t a compliment, oppa.”

“And you’re mad about it because…?”

“Because you compared me to a building.”

“A beautiful one…” you said casually, reaching for the butter while still holding her body against yours with one hand.

“Iconic. Structural integrity unmatched. Elegant. Sexy…”

Wonyoung groaned and buried her face in your neck, laughing.

“You’re so annoying in the morning, oppa.”

You grinned. “Nope. I’m professionally trained to appreciate good design.”

She slapped your chest lightly and bit her lip, trying not to smile.

“You’re so full of it.”

“And yet…” you paused, leaning down to kiss her temple. “You’re still wrapped around me like I’m the only heater in Seoul.”

Wonyoung then exhaled.

“I’m only allowing you to grab my butt like this because you’re cooking, oppa.”

You looked down at her with a smirk. “So it’s a conditional privilege?”

“Exactly. So use it wisely, architect-nim. One wrong squeeze and you’re done.”

You laughed and shifted your grip lightly but still respectful.

“Got it, princess. Grab with honor. Squeeze with consent.”

She snorted. “You’re lucky I love you, oppa.”

“Okay. And you want to brush your teeth also in this position or what?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The space smelled like fresh paint and saw dust, mixed with the faint scent of leftover eucalyptus from that one bouquet Wonyoung refused to throw away. The place was almost done. Shelves were installed, the counter was being lacquered tomorrow and the lighting fixtures were already humming softly overhead. The vision she along with Hyewon and Yena’d dreamed about was nearly a reality. You pushed the door open, letting in a gust of winter air and snow with you. The inside was warmer - just enough to melt the cold from your skin. You spotted Wonyoung immediately.

Wonyoung was kneeling on the floor sorting through a box of display jars. Hyewon was by the window wrestling with curtain rods and Yena was… doing some Yena thing. You dropped your bags near the entrance and called out.

“What chaos am I facing today?”

Wonyoung looked up, eyes lighting up instantly. “Oppa!”

She stood - a bit wobbly from sitting too long - and skipped over, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“You came!” she mumbled against your chest.

“I brought drinks. And help, if you guys need.” you offered, holding the takeout tray up.

Yena spoke from across the room. “I only care about the drink, oppa.”

You grinned and set the tray on the table before leaning in to kiss Wonyoung’s temple as she stole the cup labeled with her name.

“You shouldn’t be working after work.” she said softly, glancing up at you with

You shrugged. “I’d rather be here.”

“Ooh, a domestic man.” Hyewon snorted, twisting something into the wall and pretending not to be jealous. “Someone wife him up already.”

Wonyoung raised her eyebrows like she was already doing exactly that then tugged at your jacket.

“Come with me, oppa. I need help in the storage room.”

“What’s in there?”

“A warzone. And too many vases.”

Yena called out. “Don’t go, oppa. It’s cursed back there. You’ll never return.”

You followed your girlfriend anyway, chuckling as you ducked past the curtain that separated the back room from the main space. It was a bit dusty and stacked from floor to ceiling with boxes, bubble wrapped glassware, and unused display pieces. Wonyoung clicked on the light, shook the drink in her hand and looked at you with the most innocent expression.

“I want the tall shelf moved against that wall. And those baskets sorted by size. And the flower foam unpacked and labeled.”

You stared at Wonyoung, disbelief on your face.

“You said I shouldn’t work after going here from work, baby.”

She smiled. Sweet. Deadly.

“I meant your real job, oppa.” she lied, sipping her drink again. “This is your side job. With me.”

You squinted at her. “You’re evil, baby.”

Wonyoung grinned, stepping in closer, her voice low and dripping with fake innocence.

“I’ll cuddle you so hard and kiss you until you forget your name, oppa.”

You stared. “Keep talking…”

“Mmm.” she then dragged a box toward you with her foot. “I’ll even give you a massage on your back.”

You picked the box up without breaking eye contact.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Wonyoung-ah.”

“I do.” she said sweetly. “And you love me for it, oppa.”

About thirty minutes of unfair work later, the curtain rustled as Wonyoung peeked into the room again, sipping the last of her drink after she’d just sentenced you to unpaid manual labor. You were crouched in the corner, taking some rest after labeling everything, stacking baskets like those Pinterest boards. The tall shelf was perfectly aligned against the wall. It looked professional.

She blinked. “You actually finished, oppa?”

You stood up with a groan and cracked your neck.

“I have a literal architecture degree. I can sort baskets and stuff, baby.”

Wonyoung stepped in, glancing around. “Wow… it’s actually nice.”

“Maybe a thank you would be nice.”

She stepped closer to you, casually cupped your face and kissed you on the lips. It was soft, quick and just smug enough to count as gratitude and manipulation.

“Thank you.” she said sweetly and immediately grabbed your wrist.

“Now come help me with the espresso machine, oppa.”

“Again?” you groan, dragging your feet behind her.

Wonyoung didn’t even look back.

“It’s the last thing. I promise, baby.”

“I love how you’ve started calling me baby too.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a smirk.

“You call me that a hundred times a day, oppa. I’m just matching your energy.”

You scoffed. “No, you’re weaponizing it.”

Wonyoung hummed, knowing how powerful she was.

“Because if I say it, you get all soft and do whatever I ask.”

“You make me sound so easy”.

“Aren’t you, baby?” Wonyoung said, batting her lashes as she tugged you along by the wrist.

You laughed under your breath, mainly because she was right and you hated that it worked every single time. Just as the two of you emerged from the back, still mid argument, Yena glanced up from where she was.

“Get a room, you two.” Yena said flatly.

“We have one.” Wonyoung replied without missing a beat. “But right now, he’s helping me move the espresso machine.”

“Are you trying to show him off?” Hyewon asked, raising an eyebrow from across the room.

“Absolutely, unnie.”

“Not so subtle now, huh?” you said.

“Duh.” Wonyoung then dragged you to the counter. “You’re good looking, you’re useful and you do things in silence.”

“She just called you her pet, oppa.” Yena snorted.

You looked at Hyewon and Yena. “Is no one gonna protect my dignity here?”

Wonyoung casually patted your chest like what Yena just said was a confirmed fact.

“What dignity, baby?”

You blinked at her.

“Wow.”

Yena cackled. “You love it here, oppa.”

You let out the deepest sigh of your entire post grad life and got to work again. An hour passed. Then another. Somehow, you were still there with Wonyoung as Hyewon and Yena had gone home 20 minutes earlier - sleeves rolled, hand slightly bruised, espresso machine installed, half the decoration rearranged twice because “the lighting was off”. By the time you finally slumped onto the little loveseat near the window, it was almost midnight. The city outside was quiet. Snow dusted the sidewalk in soft streaks. Wonyoung sat beside you, legs tucked up, sipping the hot chocolate she made for you. She had just worked you to the bone for almost four hours straight. She then turned to you when you leaned back, eyes fluttering shut. Her gaze dropped and froze when she saw the faint bruise along your hand. Her whole energy changed in an instant.

She reached for your hand instantly, brushing her thumb over the spot.

“You should’ve told me when it hurt, oppa…”

You peeked one eye open, smirking.

“You were too busy yelling at me about symmetry and spotlight angles.”

Her face fell immediately, all the sass and bossy energy from earlier melted off her features - replaced by quiet guilt that hit her like a punch to the gut.

“I didn’t mean it, oppa.” she said softly. “I didn’t think I was actually pushing you that hard…”

You didn’t let Wonyoung finish. You wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in until she was against your chest.

“Hey.” you rested your chin on top of her head.

“It’s okay. I’m doing it for you.” you murmured. “It’s your dream. And if it means I carry some boxes or take a few bruises, I’ll do it. Everytime.”

Wonyoung let out the softest breath - it sounded like she was holding back tears but didn’t want to make a scene.

“...Still, tell me next time, oppa. I don’t want to hurt you, even if I’m excited.”

You smiled into her hair. “Deal.”

Wonyoung mumbled. “Good. Because you’re mine, oppa. Not disposable.”

You let out a quiet laugh.

“Maybe you could apologize by giving me that massage and cuddling me to death when we get home. You promised.”

“Of course, I promised.” she pouted.

You nodded, dead serious.

“I’ve been emotionally manipulated, physically overworked, and I got a battle wound.”

Wonyoung giggled softly, then kissed your jaw.

“Fine, oppa. I’ll cuddle you until you beg me to let go.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

She stretched, then stood up slowly, hand holding yours.

“Come on, architect-nim. Let’s lock up.”

You groaned as you stood, your back cracking like bubble wrap.

“I better get that deadly massage. I’m serious, baby.”

“You’ll get kisses every ten minutes, oppa.” she said, grabbing your jacket off the rack. She shook it out, then slipped it over your shoulders and tugged the zipper up all the way.

“And a hot pack. And maybe… maybe, I’ll feed you snacks in bed.”

“Now that’s true love.”

Before she could reach for her own things, you put her bucket hat on her head and grabbed her gloves from the stool by the door.

“Gimme your hands, baby.”

She held them out obediently, palms up and you slid the gloves on for her - slow, careful, tugging each finger into place like she was fragile. Her nose scrunched a little.

“You’re babying me now?”

“It’s only fair. You baby me tonight, I baby you forever.”

Then you paused. Her cheeks were pink from the cold. So you leaned in to cup her face in both hands and rubbed her cheeks gently with your palms to warm them up. Her lips parted slightly at your action, then you leaned in to kiss her - right there in the quiet shop entrance, just a breath of snow drifting past the glass. Slow and warm.

“Let’s go home. It’s late.”

Wonyoung looked up at you - glowing and full of warmth - before turning to hit the lights. You helped her close up the studio until the place was bathed in a soft mix of streetlight and moonlight. And then the door clicked shut behind you.

The street outside was nearly empty, snow falling light and slow like something out of a drama. Your boots crunched against it as you walked, one arm over her shoulders, her body close to yours under the purple puffer jacket. You two didn’t talk much on the way home. The vibe was nice and romantic. You looked down at her as she leaned into you, hair brushing your chin.

I love you so much.

You were in love with Wonyoung, with her cute chaos and elegant charm, her soft apologies and shameless flirting. With the way she worked you to the bone and still made you feel like the luckiest man in the world too. So you held her tighter.

Two lovers, walking home just shy of midnight.

Hands warm, hearts warmer.

After quick bowls of ramyeon, shared rice crackers on the couch and warm showers, it was somehow 2AM. That’s how you ended up here: face down on the bed, shirtless, barely alive. And Wonyoung? Wonyoung was perched on your lower back, wearing one of your oversized t-shirts. Her legs were on your sides, hair tied up. Her phone rested on the edge of the bed, some massage tutorial playing at half volume.

“Okay…” she mumbled, tapping the screen to rewind. “They said circular motion here…”

You groaned as she pushed her palms into your shoulder blades - surprisingly firm for someone who spent most of her days arranging delicate petals and yelling about shelf placement.

“Oh wait- okay… that’s actually… fuck, that’s good.” you mumbled into the pillow.

Wonyoung giggled, smug as hell.

“Language, oppa. You’re in my care now.”

You grunted. “You swear sometimes too.”

“Barely.” she replied, in that annoyingly innocent and lovely tone that made you want to roll over just to glare at her - if you had the energy to move at all right now.

“Likes that makes you morally superior, baby.”

“It does.” she said, proudly. She then shifted to press into a spot just under your shoulder blade and made you shiver. Full body, involuntary. Wonyoung definitely felt it. It was so obvious she had to gloat.

“Do you think I’m that weak now, oppa?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

“No… I take back everything I ever said about you bei- being weak…”

Wonyoung grinned, palms circling slowly over the same spot.

“That’s what I thought. People who do floral works have strong arms, baby. I lift vases and buckets of water all day.”

“Hot.”

Wonyoung laughed proudly. That one word gave her the courage to lean forward until her chest pressed against your back, lips brushing your ear as she whispered.

“If you think that’s hot, oppa… wait until I’m on top of you and not massaging.”

You froze. From how fast your heart stopped, how much that one sentence sent heat crawling up your neck. Your breath caught, your fingers curled slightly into the sheets. And for once tonight, you forgot how to speak. There was an obvious pause before your voice came out as you tried to drag it up from the pit of your throat.

“Don’t do that to me, baby.”

You could feel Wonyoung smiling on your back, slow and satisfied. She leaned even closer, chest pressed more firmly against you, arms curling loosely around your shoulder.

“What exactly do I do to you, oppa?”

You clenched your hands in the sheets.

“You’re the one who said I was strong, oppa.” she kissed your neck lightly. “I’m just using my power to heal you right now.”

You let out a breath - shaky and helpless. No words. You couldn’t say anything to her, not when your brain was static and your heart was trying to escape from your ribs. And then Wonyoung went quiet for a second, choosing her words wisely.

“You know I’ve never done this before, oppa.”

Your body tensed just slightly as her tone had changed, but not out of worry.

“Not like this… Not sitting on someone's back and teasing the hell out of them while also kind of wanting to kiss every inch of their back.” she said.

“I’ve never felt like I could. Before you, oppa.”

That got you. You turned your head a little to catch the side of her face, flushed, eyes focused on your spine since she couldn’t meet your gaze yet. Wonyoung then exhaled through her nose.

“You make me feel safe enough to be annoying and clingy.”

Even though your chest ached with how real she was being, a smile was tugging at your lips.

“You know I love you, Wonyoung-ah.” you murmured.

“I always thought if I got like this with someone, they’d think I was too much. Or dramatic. Or needy. But you-” her voice dipped. “You just act like it’s normal, oppa.”

You reached back, blindly, until you found her wrist. Your thumb brushed over her skin softly.

“It is normal with the right person, baby.” and then.

“I love when you’re annoying and clingy.”

That earned you a shaky laugh from Wonyoung.

“I wasn’t fishing for a comment, oppa.”

“Didn’t say you were.” You smiled into the pillow. Then came a pause as her hand slowly traced slowly all over your back - no tricks, no teasing. Maybe that touch was her way of saying ‘You’re mine’ without needing to speak. Then, quietly.

“I think I want to be with you for the rest of my life, oppa.”

You stopped breathing. It wasn’t dramatic or planned. Wonyoung just said it like she’d already decided. Maybe the truth had been sitting in her chest for weeks, maybe a few months and it slipped out in a moment she felt safest. You stayed still, not wanting to miss a second of this. Everything about this. The sincerity of her voice, the warmth of her touch…

“You mean that?” your voice was barely there now.

She nodded against your back. “Mmm.”

“You feel like home, oppa. I didn’t know it could feel like this with someone.”

That did something to you. It cracked something open deep down - something had been locked up for a long time, and Wonyoung’d just walked into your life and gently broke it wide open. Instead of fear, all you could feel was peace and her love.

“I want that too.” you said softly. “I promise I will try my best for you, Wonyoung.”

The bedroom was now filled with a soft and thick feeling. Her hand never stopped moving on your back, like she was tracing the weight of those words into your skin. Then, barely above a whisper.

“You already are, oppa.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. Nothing but warmth in your body now. Her body on yours, her breath against your neck, her love wrapping around you like a second blanket. Until she decided to ruin it.

SMACK.

“OW! Wonyoung-ah- seriously?”

“Flip over!” she demanded, already bouncing off your back and standing on the floor. Pure cuteness and chaos in her voice.

“Enough emotional intimacy for one night, oppa. Time for deadly cuddles.”

“You hit me so hard, baby.” you muttered but still rolled over slowly. “I’m losing feeling in my spine.”

“You’re about to lose all feeling once I latch onto you like a koala in mating season.” Wonyoung said it completely seriously. With no shame. And you had the audacity to fall even harder for her. She climbed back on top like she owned the bed and your soul, yanked the blanket over the both of you and immediately wrapped herself around you.

“You better not move, oppa.” she mumbled against your collarbone. “I’m in position and too comfy now.”

Your hand instinctively slid up and down her back, her skin warm under your touch.

“You didn’t even give me time to wear my shirt. It’s winter, Wonyoungie.”

“Exactly~” she nuzzled deeper into your chest. “It’s winter.”

“Baby.”

“Oppa~”

Uh oh.

You heard the danger in her tone.

“It’s Saturday.” she continued, voice soft and layered with fake innocence.

“The studio’s closed for now. You’re not working. You basically study everyday already. So why would you prep for that boring architect test thing tomorrow when you could stay in bed and warm me like a good boy?”

Your brain short circuited.

“Good boy?” you repeated.

“Mm.” Wonyoung hummed sweetly, tracing a finger along your collarbone. “My good boy stays right here and keeps me warm and gives me kisses when I ask.”

“I’m a grown man.” but you were malfunctioning. Your protest was weak.

“And yet you’re still under my command, oppa.” she tilted her head. She then slowly moved forward, lips barely brushing your ear, her voice honeyed and low as she continued to attack.

“Just admit it, oppa.” she whispered. “You’d rather stay here all day and let me suffocate you with affection than stare at blueprints or designs… Or your nerdy architect stuff.”

You were defeated. Exhausted. But hey, very much in love.

“Fine… you win.”

“I always win, oppa.”

“I take the day off. Happy?”

Wonyoung beamed, pulling the blanket tighter around the both of you.

“Estatic. Now hush and cuddle me like you mean it.”

You let out a breath, let her bury her freezing feet between your legs and pulled her in closer. Her head was tucked under your chin, hand resting over your chest as she claimed her territory.

“Don’t call me ‘good boy’ again. That’s dangerous.” you mumbled into her hair.

“I call you whatever I want, oppa.” she whispered back with her smug grin. You knew you were done for, without a doubt.

You blinked awake to an empty bed. No warmth by your side. No Wonyoung draped across your chest. No mumbling or sleep kicks. It was quiet. The clock read 8:12AM. You groaned into the pillow, reaching across the sheets for Wonyoung’s warmth. Still warm. Still faintly smelling like her shampoo. No sight of her. But then the bedroom door swung open. There she was.

Jang Wonyoung.

In a black body hugging dress, lips glossy, hair cascading down her shoulders in effortless waves like she was about to do a Vogue cover shoot in your shared apartment. She stood framed in the doorway looking like she hadn’t just destroyed you both physically and emotionally last night.

“Wake up, oppa~” her voice was bright, bossy and way too casual from someone who dressed like that for breakfast.

“Brush your teeth. We have movies to watch and breakfast to eat.”

You sat up slowly, squinting at the sudden presence and your girlfriend standing in the doorway.

“Damn…” you mumbled, voice rough from sleep “Why do you look like that, baby?”

Wonyoung smiled, one hand on her hip which allowed the dress to hug every curve like it was made only for her.

“Like what, oppa?”

“Like- fuck…” your voice cracked slightly as you sat up straighter, rubbing the back of your neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her lips curved, pleased but trying to play it cool.

“I know. But I like to hear it from you.”

Then she casually walked over to your side of the bed. Bunny slippers on her feet, hips swaying, the black dress hugging her in all the right places like sin disguised as breakfast. Her hair caught the morning light just right.

Oh my fucking…

You pushed the blanket off and sat up slowly, still shirtless and barely conscious but instantly weak for her. You instinctively leaned in, reaching for her waist, wanting nothing more than to pull Wonyoung in and bury your face in her stomach. Just to ground yourself and breathe her in. But the second your arms brushed her sides, she pressed one palm flat against your forehead and held you back like a misbehaving dog.

“Nope.” her tone was sweet but lethal. You blinked at that, confused and offended. Wonyoung just smiled, lips all glossy and powerful.

“Brush your teeth and wash your face first, oppa. Then you can hug me.”

“Just one hug, Wonyoungie.” you said. You were still a bit asleep and completely love drunk. You were way too weak for Wonyoung to be standing there in that dress. So, naturally, you leaned forward again - arms stretching toward her waist like your soul needed contact.

Smack.

Her palm met your forehead in a light, warning tap. It didn’t hurt but enough to put you in your place. Your head tilted back slightly from the light impact as you looked at your girlfriend, stunned. Wonyoung stared down at you, attitude shifting suddenly. Her sweetness was still there - buried under a new layer of firm, unshakable authority. Her hands went to her hips, eyes narrowing.

“Oppa.” she said, loud and clear. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Okay…” your voice came out soft. Obedient. A little terrified.

She raised an eyebrow, satisfied.

“Good~”

Then she spun around, her slippers tapping confidently as she walked out of the room after asserting her dominance. And maybe you should’ve let it go. Maybe. But no. The mischief hit you fast. You smirked, leaning off the bed as your eyes followed the curve of her hips in that damn black dress. Too good and dangerous. Your hand then rose just slightly to aim for a harmless, barely there smack on her butt - just enough to make your presence known. Equal parts flirty and payback, right? She denied you affection and threatened your sanity before breakfast, it was only fair. But Wonyoung stopped mid step and turned back calmly, glaring at you. Her eyes then found your raised hand midair, caught red handed in mischief. Her glossy lips pressed into the faintest smirk. You were busted.

“...Hi?”

Her eyebrow lifted, enough to warn you. The tiny, terrifying arch sent a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t even try it, oppa.” she said. Dead serious.

“Okay.” your voice cracked a little as you dropped your hand down. But Wonyoung wasn’t done. She narrowed her eyes and stepped back closer to you.

“I swear, oppa. If you touch me before you’re clean-” she leaned in slightly. “-you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

You didn’t argue. Shower. Toothbrush. Face wash. The bathroom tiles were icy against your feet, but thankfully the water was still a bit warm - just enough to survive the Seoul winter without crying. You showered like your life depended on it. When you finally stepped out, all dried and dressed in the comfiest sweater you could find, you padded to the living room. Breakfast - toast, eggs and a cute little bowl of strawberries - was already waiting on the coffee table. Wonyoung was sitting on the couch, flipping through movie options with a coffee mug in hand. Her legs were folded beneath her, skin glowing. You cleared your throat. She looked up.

“Can I please hug you now?”

Wonyoung blinked. Then her lips curved into something between a smile and a smirk - sweat, pleased but still holding power.

“Did you brush, oppa?”

“Yes.”

“Face?”

“Washed.”

“Shower?”

“With your eucalyptus body wash. I’m the cleanest man in the whole world right now.”

She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. She then took a slow slip of her coffee and then put her legs down with flair, crossing one leg over the other as she stared at you like a queen who was considering whether to pardon a criminal.

“Let me smell.”

You stepped forward cautiously and leaned down toward Wonyoung on the couch, angling your neck so she could check it herself. You expected a quick sniff, enough for her to say “okay” and open her arms. But no. Wonyoung leaned in slowly, lips curving into a smirk. Her hand came up to rest on your chest - not pushing you away or pulling you in closer. It just rested there to control the moment. And then, she pressed her nose tight into your neck. It wasn’t soft or subtle. It was a full inhale, right against your skin - hot breath and the scent of her lip gloss lingering just below your ear. Goosebumps spread like wildfires across your back and arms. You actually shivered.

“Wonyoung-ah…” you breathed out. She didn’t flinch but even nuzzled closer.

“Mm.” she murmured. “You really did use my body wash.”

“Yeah. I- uh… I did.”

She leaned back finally, eyes half lidded and pleased beyond reason. Her lips glistened with that damn gloss and her voice dropped to a smug whisper.

“You smell like eucalyptus and submission, oppa.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Wonyoung smiled and opened her arms. “Come here, you whipped idiot.”

You crashed straight onto the couch, face falling right into her lap. You buried your face into the soft fabric of her dress, right against her stomach, arms wrapping tightly around her waist like Wonyoung was the safest place on earth. Your actions caught her off guard for a second. Then she eventually melted. Her hand slid into your hair automatically, nails gently scratching your scalp as you clung to her.

“Oppa.” she laughed under her breath. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You tortured me by making me wait forever."

“It was only thirty minutes, baby.”

“Forever.”

She giggled, the sound soft and wicked. She knew exactly how powerful she was and planned to use it until you were nothing but a puddle in her lap. Her fingers continued to comb through your hair. Her other hand calmly reached for her coffee again and sipped it before speaking.

“I really have you wrapped around my finger, right oppa?”

You didn’t deny it. Laying there, head buried against her stomach, arms draped around her waist, you just sighed.

“Like a ribbon.” you muttered.

“Mm.” Wonyoung slid her hand under your chin and tilted your face up. Before you could react, she leaned down and kissed you on the lips - warm, soft, tasting like coffee.

“And you love it so much, oppa.” she whispered. You just groaned into her mouth and nodded, fully defeated.

Eventually, you both shifted - plates were pulled onto your laps, coffee mugs safely placed on the table. The movie started playing quietly in the background, some lighthearted romance you barely registered because you were stupidly basking in how stupidly happy you felt. At some point, you ended up in her lap again - obviously. Wonyoung had one arm draped across your shoulders, the other reaching into the bowl of strawberries on the table. She picked one, twirled it gently between her fingers for a second then dangled it just above your lips.

“Open.” she commended, already grinning. You tilted your chin up and parted your lips - obedient, too in love to care. She popped the strawberry into your mouth with a pleasant hum then brushed her fingers along your cheek with ridiculous delicacy.

“Good boy.” she said casually.

You paused mid chew. “Baby, you gotta stop calling me that.”

Wonyoung turned her head slowly, a knowing smile spreading across her lips as she picked another strawberry from the bowl.

“Why?” she asked, pretending she didn’t have a single clue on what kind of effect she had on you. “You don’t like it, oppa?”

“I like it too much.” you admitted, slumping further into her lap. “It short circuits my brain.”

She pouted in fake sympathy, twirling the next strawberry in her fingers like a cat with a mouse.

“Mmm. Poor baby. All soft and squishy just because I praised you a little.”

“Wonyoung-ah.”

“Oppa.”

You look up at her, exasperated. Wonyoung raised the strawberry to your lips again.

“Now open.”

You groaned but still obeyed. She popped it in your mouth and smiled. After a moment, her hand slid from your shoulder to your jaw, thumb playing with your chin. She tilted your face up and leaned down, resting her forehead against yours.

“But you really are my good boy, oppa.” she whispered. You knew you were done for.

“I need some rest.”

“You are already resting.” she giggled and kissed your forehead. “On my lap.”

And that’s where you stayed for a while, the outside world was nothing more than a snowy hum beyond the curtains. Eventually, the day drifted forward as morning turned into afternoon. Wonyoung then had to get up, brushing a kiss to your temple with a whisper of ‘I have some arrangements to prep, oppa’. You, of course, followed. You wanted to be on her lap for the rest of the day but instead, ended up sitting on a stool in the corner of her little work area. Your phone but in your hand, thumb lazily scrolling, but your eyes? Fully on Wonyoung.

She was standing at her work table, trimming the ends of a bouquet with clean precision. Her hands moved like muscle memory across bunches of fresh rose, lavender, baby’s breath and ranunculus. Her focus, her calm, her grace - all of it did something to you. You’d seen Wonyoung do this a hundred times - but something felt different this time? Maybe it was the way she stood. Maybe it was the way she wore that dress. Or maybe it was just Wonyoung.

You played a random playlist on your phone, low and lazy, just to fill the quiet. Then, as if the universe was in on your feelings, ‘Flowers’ by Johnny Stimson came on. The soft bassline. The lyrics. The vibe.

You can open up to me

Show me what's inside

Mother nature made us to intertwine

She shifted slightly on her feet, the black dress then pulled taut across her hips. You lost the ability to breathe normally. Your fingers tapped against your knee, pretending to scroll on your phone. But your eyes were watching the way she moved - the care, the skill, the control. Everything Wonyoung did was controlled. And everything about you was unraveling. You stood up.

Lavender elixir so

Full of pheromones

Gimme one taste and you're gone

You walked over to her. Wonyoung didn’t flinch - she just kept trimming stems like you weren’t about to lose your mind. You slipped behind her, hands gently sliding around her waist, resting low on her stomach. She took no time to relax into your touch, head lightly leaning against your shoulder.

“You’re still wearing the dress.” you mumbled, lips grazing the edge of her ear.

“Mmm.”

“And you expect me not to do anything?”

Wonyoung smiled, but her eyes were focused.

“You haven’t done anything, oppa.”

You kissed her cheeks. Once. Then lower, her jaw. Then the side of her neck, barely brushing your lips there.

What if I can't get you out of my thoughts?

What if my seasons don't change?

What if you forget to forget me not

And we fade away?

The lyrics filled the air, sinking into your skin the same way she did - subtly, then all at once. You felt her breath catch, just enough.

“You smell nice.” you whispered, fingertips grazing the fabric over her waist. Wonyoung finally set the scissors down. She turned around to face you. Her face was unreadable as something was brewing underneath.

“Don’t tempt me, oppa.” she whispered.

You leaned in. “Too late.”

Her hands slid into your sweater, gripping the front of it as you kissed her - this time slower, deeper, a kiss that curled your toes and left no room for second thoughts. You pulled Wonyoung flushed against you, the table behind her nudging the base of her spine as you devoured her mouth.

You're my little flower

Blooming in the night

Only for an hour

The northern lights

The lyrics played in the background like a confession neither of you could say out loud just yet. But it was felt. All of it. Her hands curled tighter into your sweater. Your fingertips danced down her back, slowly tracing the shape of her waist again-

And that’s when she pulled back. Lips parted. Breath trembling. Eyes glazed with everything she was feeling but couldn’t say.

My Casablanca sweetheart

Nectar so divine

Baby, you're the best part of my life

You swore the air shifted when she looked at you like that. The moment hung there, delicate and electric. Wonyoung’s voice was soft. Barely above a whisper.

“You always kiss me like it’s the last time, oppa.”

“I mean, every time I kiss you feels important.”

Wonyoung stared at you for a beat, lashes fluttering. Then, with a breath that felt heavier than it should’ve been, she reached up and pressed her hand gently to your chest.

“Sit down.”

“...What?”

“I have to finish this, oppa.” she said, laughing through the tension, voice still shook lightly. “Before I scold you again.”

“C’mon, Wonyoungie.”

She smiled sweetly, turning back to her bouquet, snipping stems like nothing had happened. “I’m protecting you, oppa. From me.”

There was absolutely nothing you could say to that. You just sat down, knees feeling like pudding.

The rest of the day felt like something out of a dream you never wanted to wake up from. She worked. You helped. She kissed your cheek when you passed her the right vase. You played her favorite songs on low volume as Wonyoung was deep in her work like a Renaissance muse - your muse.

Dinner was something simple. Delivery, because neither of you could be bothered to cook after all that emotional cardio. You ate on the floor, in front of the couch as Wonyoung leaned her head on your shoulder, both of you wrapped in a big blanket. There were quiet laughs, shared bites, forehead kisses between jokes.

By the time you and her made it to bed, the world outside had gone still. You were laying there - soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow, blankets heavy and comforting. Wonyoung curled into your side, face pressed to your shoulder, fingers trailing lightly over your chest. That’s when you turned your head slightly and asked.

“What’s gotten in you, baby? You’ve been different, today and last night.”

Wonyoung went quiet for a bit to think about it. Then she mumbled, shy but smiling.

“Maybe I just love you so much I couldn’t hide it anymore, oppa.”

Really?

You pulled her closer.

“...Maybe keep it not hiding then, baby.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

From December to early and mid February, your relationship with Wonyoung turned quietly serious even as your lives got even heavier. You were preparing for the last stage of the architecture license exam - which meant longer nights bent over drafting boards, wrist sores from holding a pencil for hours… People had warned you it was brutal. You knew how crazy it was. But it still managed to hit you harder than you ever expected.

Wonyoung didn’t just witness it - she adapted to it. She brought heat packs when your hands were cramped, massaged your shoulders while reading flower order lists, cooked when you forgot to eat. She even dropped by your workplace with lunch on the roughest days, always smiling like it wasn’t a big deal. Everybody there was jealous. Of course they were. She fitted into your mornings, stealing bites of your toast, reminding you to blink when you stared too hard at lines. At night, you’d come home to Wonyoung humming while she worked on her floral studio dream, cheeks flushed from the cold. You owed Wonyoung. A lot.

Despite the weight of it all, you still made time to live. Christmas was spent with her family, warm and familiar. Her parents showered the two of you with gifts. Wonyoung never left your side, not even when her cousins grilled her about your future wedding. She just smiled and held your hand tighter. New Year’s Eve was quieter, just the two of you kissing on the rooftop of your shared apartment with thick jackets while the Seoul skyline lit up with fireworks.

Then 설날* came, and you introduced Wonyoung to your parents. It was your turn after all. She wore a soft toned hanbok, bowed respectfully and called your mom ‘eomoni’ with no hesitation or difficulties. Even though she offered to help, your parents wouldn’t let her step inside the kitchen - insisting their ‘precious future daughter-in-law’ should just sit and rest. She even made your relatives laugh and didn’t even flinch when your aunts cornered her with questions. By the end of the night, your mom pulled Wonyoung aside, held her hands tightly and said ‘You’re a blessing to our son’. And your mom wasn’t wrong at all. Not one bit.

*설날/seollal: Korean new year.

One day, the snow hit harder than usual. You’d heard it all over the news - record low temperature, public transport stalling, several small businesses forced to close for a few days. You texted Wonyoung during lunch, asked if she was staying warm. No answer. When you came home from work, jacket still dusted in snow, you found her on the couch - curled up, knees to her chest, sleeves pulled over her hands. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying. Your heart sank.

“Wonyoung-ah?” you called gently, moving toward her. Wonyoung didn’t look up at first. Just shook her head like she didn’t want to talk about it. But when you knelt in front of her, her eyes finally met yours - glassy, full of frustration and exhaustion.

“They pushed the inspection again, oppa.” she said. “Everything’s delayed until March.”

Wonyoung’s voice cracked just enough to split something open inside your chest.

“I know it’s not that big of a deal but-” she continued, trying to convince herself. “But I had everything prepared. I had it timed for orders, I sent emails, I made schedules, I-” her breath hitched.

“I work so hard, oppa.” she whispered, her lips trembling. “I gave it everything- I was so close…”

You didn’t wait. You scooped her into your arms before she could even fold in on herself, lifting her gently and sitting down with her on your lap. Her body curled into yours instantly, like she’d been waiting for permission to fall apart. Wonyoung buried her face in your shoulder, her arms wrapping around your neck so tight it nearly choked you but you didn’t care. Her entire body was shaking now. Harsh, quiet sobs punched out of her chest. You held her through it all, one hand smoothing over her back, the other cradling the back of her head. Wonyoung was fragile, precious.

After a while, her sobs started to soften. It was still there, still aching but quieter. She shifted just enough to up at you, eyes swollen and glassy, nose a little red.

“I really thought I could do it, oppa… I thought I could prove to everyone I wasn’t just all talk.”

You brushed your thumb across her cheek, gently wiping away the wetness there.

“You already did, Wonyoung-ah.” you said softly. “You are doing it. Delays don’t erase the work.”

She blinked, tears pooling again. “But it feels like I failed.”

You let out a soft sigh, brushing the tears away with your knuckle as you looked at her - eyes puffy, lips trembling, so heartbreakingly beautiful even in her lowest moments.

How are you still so beautiful?

“Wonyoung-ah… I face the same shit at work too.” you said.

“Designs get pushed back, clients ghost, a lot of them are obnoxious, permits take months. One time I worked three straight nights for a client who changed their mind after the deadline, remember?”

Wonyoung shifted, blinking up at you through glassy eyes.

“You were there for me, weren’t you?”

She stayed silent but nodded.

“If I hadn’t met you, I would’ve quit architecture and become a dog walker in Gangnam.” you said dramatically. “Or like, join a cult and scam people on the street.”

That finally did it - a tiny laugh burst out of her, choked a bit by the remnants of her crying. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, embarrassed. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, embarrassed.

“There it is!” you whispered. “That’s my girl.”

She immediately buried her face in your chest again, hiding.

“Stop it, oppa.” she mumbled. “I look so gross right now.”

You laughed, tightening your arms around her, lips brushing the top of her head as you whispered.

“You don’t. Not even a little.”

She groaned into your chest. “My face is puffy, oppa.”

“Still the most beautiful girl I know.”

“My nose is red.”

“Cute.”

“My make up is ruined.”

“Hot.”

Wonyoung squinted at you, a look of sadness and disbelief on her face. “Hot?”

You nodded, completely serious. “Devastating hot.”

She let out a half sob, half laugh sound and smacked your chest weakly. “You’re such a liar, oppa.”

You caught her hand before she could pull it away and brought it to your lips for a soft kiss.

“You know I never lie about you, Wonyoung-ah.” you murmured. “Especially not about how beautiful you are.”

That shut her up again. Wonyoung knew if she said anything back instantly, she’d cry even harder. So instead, she just melted into you, arms wrapping around your waist again. You leaned your chin against the top of her head, pulling her close like she was made to fit there.

“I’ve got you, Wonyoung-ah. For as long as you need.”

That night, you didn’t let her lift a finger. You cooked while Wonyoung sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket like a sulking princess. She kept trying to help but you gave her that look every time and she finally gave up with a small pout. You even massaged her shoulders after, forced her to drink warm tea and stayed by her side all night. It was all good again, for a while. But as March loomed ahead, so did the weight of reality.

Her floral studio opening was finally opening - design books finalized, stock delivered, invitations prepped and promotions starting to roll out. And you? You were a few weeks from the last stage of the architecture license exam - the hardest thing you’d ever prepared for. Real hand drafted design work, timed constraints, performance pressures… It demanded everything.

And suddenly, everything felt too full. The space you two once treated like your treasure was overflowing with flower buckets and tracing papers. Everything from two different professions were spilling into each other, no clean lines, no negative space. Two passionate people. Two overachievers. Two deadlines clashing in the same apartment. The arguments weren’t big. Just… sharper.

Like when Wonyoung moved your drafting weights off the table and you found them on the kitchen counter, buried under her wrapping paper. Or when you forgot to screw the cap back on floral tape and it dried overnight. She didn’t yell at you. She just sighed and kissed you, saying it was fine. But that long, slow kind of sigh made your chest feel too small.

There were times you’d both laugh it off. Many times. Except when it didn’t.

One night, you were hunched over the dining table again - your third sketch of the day was already half erased, smudges climbed up your wrist like bruises. The sharpener had jammed. The ruler was gone. Again.

“Have you seen my ruler, Wonyoungie?” you asked, not even bothering to look up.

Wonyoung didn’t answer at first. You heard a soft clink. She was in the corner, trimming stems into a metal bowl.

“You left it on the bed, oppa.”

You blinked.

“Why would I leave it there?”

She didn’t turn around. “I don’t know. Maybe you were measuring in your dreams, oppa.”

You paused, pencil mid air. The sarcasm didn’t hit cute this time. You stared at the half done section in front of you, jaw tight.

“Okay…” you said, voice flat. Wonyoung finally turned over. She was wearing one of your old sweatshirts, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes met yours across the room - the usual spark wasn’t there.

“I was joking.” she said, quieter this time. “You’re kinda tense lately, oppa.”

You sighed, pressing the pencil down onto the table a little harder than needed. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just… this stage is eating me alive.”

Wonyoung didn’t say anything right away. She just nodded and looked down at her flowers, fiddling with her scissors.

“I get that. I really do. But it feels like you’re mad at me, oppa.”

Your head snapped up. “I’m not- Wonyoung-ah. I swear. I'm just tired and I feel like I’m not doing enough. For this exam, for you…”

Wonyoung’s eyes flicked up at that.

“Don’t say that, oppa. You’re doing everything you can.”

She then set the scissors down with a soft click and walked over slowly to you. You stayed frozen in your chair, pencil still in hand, but your grip softened as she came close. Wonyoung crouched next to you, resting her chin on your thigh.

“You’re tired. And I know this exam is killing you.” she said gently. “But please don’t think I need more from you, oppa. You being here and trying hard already means everything, oppa.”

Your hand reached out automatically, fingers brushing through her hair.

“I feel like I’ve been snapping too much lately.” you admitted, the guilt was eating you up.

She nodded but her smile was soft. “You have.”

“Sorry…” you winced.

“But you’ve been hugging me in your sleep. Kissing my shoulder before you leave for work. Carrying my flower vases even when you look like you’re gonna collapse…” she took your hand. “So I forgive you, oppa.”

You exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for days.

“Come here.” you tugged her into her lap. She climbed into your arms without hesitation, arms wrapping around your neck.

“I love you.” you said against her hair.

“I love you more, oppa.” she whispered back. “But if you erase that drawing again, I will definitely scold you.”

You laughed into her shoulder, everything feeling a bit lighter again.

It started small, like always.

You’d just come home from work, drained and quiet. Wonyoung was at the table, her laptop open and a notebook of arrangement ideas on the side. She looked up at you and smiled.

“You didn’t reply to my text, baby.”

You blinked, taking off your coat. “What text?”

She then turned the screen toward you - a photo of a new flower sample. “I sent it hours ago, oppa. I ask what you thought.”

You stared at the screen, mind blank for a second too long. Then you rubbed a hand over your face.

“I’m sorry, Wonyoungie. Work was hell today. I must’ve missed it.”

Wonyoung’s smile faltered a little, just a second. “You always say that lately, oppa.”

Her words weren’t cruel. They were soft and honest - which made them sting worse.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you like that, baby.” your voice was tighter than you intended.

“I know.” she replied quickly. “But it still makes me feel like I don’t matter sometimes, oppa.”

You sighed, not in anger - just exhaustion.

“Wonyoung-ah, everything’s hitting me at once right now. I’m trying to be okay at work, at the exam, at being… with you.”

“So now I’m just another thing on your to-do list, oppa?” she flinched.

That one hit too hard. You looked at her sharply.

“That’s not what I want.”

“I didn’t say it was, oppa.” her voice cracked at the edges now. “But it’s starting to feel like it.”

Silence quickly settled, thick and cold. Your heart was loud in your chest, but you couldn’t find the next words. Maybe not yet. Not when both of you were teetering between tired and hurt.

Maybe this one wouldn’t end in a soft kiss and forehead touch.

Maybe this time, one of you had to walk away to breathe.

This one started differently. It started with a question.

You were in the middle of sketching out something, you didn’t even remember what it was - pencil tucked behind your ear, back hunched, neck aching. Wonyoung peeked around the doorframe. Her eyes were tired. She held a small stack of flower mockups and a printed draft.

“Oppa.” she said softly. “Can I show you something real quick?”

You didn’t even turn around. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, baby.”

Wonyoung hesitated. “It’s just the layout for the welcome table. I can’t tell if the lettering feels too busy.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” you said, still sketching.

Silence. Then came a light sigh.

“Nevermind, oppa.”

You froze. Something about the way Wonyoung said it made your hands pause immediately. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t turn around. Instead, you pressed the pencil back to paper and kept going. You kept sketching for another minute. Maybe two. But things didn’t make sense to you anymore - the lines, the measurements. You were thinking about her voice. The way Wonyoung said nevermind like she knew exactly how this would go. So you stood up. Wonyoung was in the bedroom. She wasn’t crying. She was crouched beside the rolling cart, restocking twine and tags into labeled compartments like nothing happened. You leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey, baby.”

“What, oppa?” she didn’t look up.

“I’m sorry.”

Her hands didn’t stop moving. “For what?”

“For brushing you off, earlier.” you swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to. I just- my head’s all over the place.”

Wonyoung gave a small nod but it didn’t feel like forgiveness. “You always do that, oppa.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn't.” she said. “It just feels… I don’t know, familiar.”

“What do you mean, Wonyoung-ah?”

She finally stood up.

“It means this isn’t the first time. Me coming to you with something small, something that probably doesn’t matter to anyone but me and getting nothing as an answer from you while you do your thing, oppa.”

“I told you I was in the middle of something.”

“And I told you it would take just a few seconds.” she said, voice sharper now. “That’s all I needed from you, oppa. Just look for a few seconds.”

“I do care.” you shot back. “Do you think I enjoy being like this? I’m not ignoring you, I’m drowning.”

“So am I!”

Wonyoung’s voice cracked for the first time, that scared you more than if she’d yelled.

“You think this thing isn’t eating me alive, oppa? You think I don’t want to pause everything and just… be with you? But I can’t because I’m trying to make my dream happen. And sometimes I need you to see it, oppa.”

You were quiet. Chest tight.

“I do, baby.”

“I think we’re both just trying so hard not to fall apart. Somewhere in that, we’re just let things get between us too much.”

You stepped forward, slowly. “I don’t want that.”

“Neither do I, oppa.” her voice was smaller now. “But I’m scared that if we keep doing this - hurting each other without meaning to, it’s just gonna…”

You reached for Wonyoung’s hand. She let you.

“I don’t know how to do this perfectly, baby. But I want to try my best with you.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry too, oppa. For getting mad at you. And guilt tripping… pushing when you’re clearly just… barely hanging on.”

You pulled Wonyoung in gently and she leaned into you with no resistance.

“I love you.” you murmured in her hair.

“I know.” she whispered. “I love you too, oppa.”

There was nothing dramatic about it. No grand moment, no magic reset. Just two people, a little bruised, arms wrapped around each other in the quiet and hoping that was enough. Maybe for now.

The next morning, you were making breakfast when Wonyoung leaned over the counter in your oversized hoodie, pressing her cheek to her arm while she scrolled through messages on her phone. The window was slightly opened. You could hear a bird singing outside. The air smelled like butter and coffee. Everything felt almost normal like the fight last night hadn’t happened. She smiled a little when you passed her a plate.

“Is this even edible, oppa?”

You smirked. “I checked this time, Wonyoungie.”

She took a bite and gave you a dramatic thumbs up. You laughed, low and tired. But at least it was something - nice and peaceful. There was a moment, just then, where everything softened. Where she looked at you and you looked back, it felt like you were back to when these things didn’t matter. And then your phone rang. You stepped out of the kitchen, answering it in the hallway with one hand pressed to the temple.

Fuck… Not now.

Wonyoung watched you from her seat. You knew she could tell something was wrong.

“Wonyoung-ah…” you said carefully.

“What was that, oppa?”

You came back to the kitchen, slowly. It felt like you were stepping into a room you’d just set on fire. She was still at the counter, thumb hovering over her phone, eyes on you now. You hesitated.

“They want me in Pohang. Friday morning.”

Her face didn’t move, but something in her shoulders shifted.

“For how long, oppa?”

“Three to four days…”

You could see Wonyoung counting in her head. Her lips parted but nothing came out. You kept talking like maybe if you filled the space fast enough, you could soften the blow.

“I’ll be back by your opening. I’ll take the earliest train, baby. I swear. I- I’ll leave straight after I finish everything.”

She blinked. Still not saying anything.

“Wonyoung-ah… Please say something.”

She set her fork down, too gently.

“You said you’d be there, oppa.”

“I know…” you said. “And I still want to be. I just… I can’t promise the timing.”

A long silence stretched between you. Wonyoung looked at everything but your face.

“You’ve missed a lot of things lately.”

“Baby, I haven’t-”

“You have, oppa.” Her voice was scarily calm. “Little things, big things. I didn’t bring them up because I knew you were trying. I know you’re trying.”

“It’s always bad timing.”

You winced. “That’s not fair.”

“No.” Wonyoung stood up now. “What’s not fair is spending weeks planning something I’ve dreamed about for years, and knowing that even on that one day that’s supposed to be about me- you still might not show up, oppa.”

“I’m still trying. I’m doing everything I can to be there.”

“I don’t want you to try.” she snapped. “I want you to be there. Like you said you would. Like you always promise.”

Your voice dropped, sharp. “And what do you want me to do, Jang Wonyoung? Say no and risk my job? Ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for so you won’t feel abandoned for a day?”

Wonyoung recoiled. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to immediately regret it. But she was already turning away, arms crossed like she had to physically hold herself together.

“I think this relationship might be a mistake, oppa.”

You froze. The air left your lungs.

“C’mon, baby. You don’t actually mean that…”

Still no answer. She didn’t deny it. That hurt you, really bad. So the words ripped out before you could stop them.

“You know what? Maybe it is. Since all I care about is stupid buildings and that fucking license exam.”

That was just enough to fuel Wonyoung’s anger. She glared at you, things hadn’t been okay for the last month now. It was time to release it all. Her eyes were sharp, jaw clenched, tears not even falling anymore.

“FUCK YOU, Han Haejoon.” she said. “You think you��re the only person who’s been working hard in this house? What I do is just some shitty girl’s play?”

You laughed. Bitter, ugly.

“What the hell are you even saying? God, Wonyoung-ah, I’ve watched you obsess over every goddamn petals and call it a fucking ‘business plan’.”

Her mouth dropped open, stunned. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Yes. I. Fucking. Am.” you shouted. “I’m tired, okay? I’m so fucking tired of acting like your opening is the only thing that matters while I drown in deadlines and other shit. I have to keep pretending like I’m not falling apart too.”

“Well guess what? You’re not the only one. You’re just the only one allowed to show it.”

You didn’t know what happened at that moment. Were you just too tired to say something back? Was what Wonyoung said the truth? Nothing came out. Wonyoung wiped at her face quickly, like she was angry the tears were finally coming.

“You’re a fucking coward, Han Haejoon. Do you know that?”

And that was it. The whole apartment went quiet. She walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. It wasn’t hard or loud. You stared at the ceiling. Your hands were trembling, chest on fire. You didn’t talk for the rest of the day.

The next few days that followed were silent and slow, wrapped in a tension that didn’t scream- it just sat there. Heavy. Distant. You two avoided each other. Not deliberately, not cruelty. It just naturally happened. Wonyoung stayed mostly in the bedroom, while you retreated to your shared collection room - the one filled with pieces of your life together: Legos, pop ups, her books, a dusty stack of photobooth strips of you two… It used to feel warm. Now it felt like exile.

You slept on the floor with your hoodie pulled over your head, back turned to the door. She didn’t come in. You didn’t expect her to. The apartment felt too big and too small at once. Once, in the hallway, Wonyoung looked like she might say something. But your dumbass turned away before she could even speak a word. On Tuesday, you couldn’t draw. You couldn't study. You sat with your pencil pressed to the paper and didn’t get anything done. From the bedroom, you heard her practicing her opening speech. She sounded steady but you knew. She wasn’t.

Friday morning, you found breakfast waiting on the table in the collection room. Rice. Rolled eggs. Seaweed soup. Your favorite spoon wrapped in Wonyoung’s favorite floral napkin. No note. Just food and care. You stared at it for a long time. But you didn’t eat. It felt like accepting it would mean everything was fine again. But then again, you weren’t sure why this was happening. Everything was so nice and peaceful just a few months ago. You weren’t sure. You didn’t want to overthink too much so you got ready and went straight to work. Her breakfast was still there.

That night, your train was scheduled for 8:30. You packed your bag slowly before dragging your feet to the bedroom. Wonyoung had already cleaned the breakfast. You should’ve eaten it. You should’ve done things differently. The guilt wouldn’t stop humming under your skin. The door creaked open gently. She was sitting on the bed, eyes on her phone. No matter what happened, no matter how hard you both fought, Wonyoung was still the most beautiful woman in your eyes.

“Baby.” you said, voice quiet. “Can I come in?”

Wonyoung didn’t give you an answer. So you stepped in anyway. You stayed near the door since you were scared getting too close might piss her off even more or scare her off.

“I’m sorry, Wonyoung-ah.” you said. “For it all. I should’ve eaten it. I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I didn’t mean any of it. I was scared and tired.”

Silence.

“I know this relationship means a lot to you. It does to me too. I… I don’t want to lose you, Wonyoung.”

You took a breath and stepped closer. You reached out slowly, fingertips grazing her shoulder. She flinched, that was enough to make your hand drop right away. You backed off, like you just touched someone that wasn’t yours anymore.

“I’m really sorry, baby.” you said again. “I know I haven’t been good at showing it lately, but I really love you. I’ve always loved you. I really appreciate the trust you have in me… I’m stupid for acting like that the past weeks.”

Wonyoung didn’t say anything.

“I’ll be there for you, okay? No matter how hard things are… I promise I will try for you, Wonyoung-ah.”

Wonyoung still sat there, closed off. So you stepped back, grabbed your bag from the hallway and closed the bedroom as quietly as you could. You stole one last look for the last time. Still nothing. So you left.

And when the door clicked shut, Wonyoung finally broke. She folded over slowly, like her body couldn’t even hold it in anymore. Her hands pressed to her eyes, knees drawn in, shoulders shaking. Not because she was mad or she didn’t forgive you. But because she missed you already. Wonyoung didn’t want things to end like this. She cried because she still loved you too much. And now she didn’t know what to do with that love anymore.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You had barely slept. You stayed behind after the Pohang review long after everyone else had cleared out, doing everything you could to make sure you could leave without any guilt. Things thankfully worked out. Then Monday came. You managed to catch the first KTX back to Seoul, arriving back at about 7AM. Your eyes were burning, body aching from too many hours in a suit. You didn’t go home or change. You just made one stop - at the little flower shop where you bought Wonyoung flowers on your first dinner together. Then you headed straight to the studio, still holding your breath, hoping you weren’t too late. You two hadn’t texted each other since that day, but somewhere deep down in you, you knew you could still fix this. That it wasn’t too far gone yet.

The studio smelled like fresh flowers and sweet coffee. Someone had opened the front windows just enough to let Seoul’s spring breeze in. Ribbons fluttered gently from the display hooks, soft music hummed under the murmur of guess. It was everything Wonyoung had dreamed about. Warm petals, clean decorations, the faint bite of lavender from the candle burning on the counter.

Outside, the signage Hyewon and Yena’d agonized over for months now hung proudly above the door. Below it, a small welcome table was already covered in business cards, pastries, and iced teas. Yena had overtaken the center table, buzzing and hyping every guest like she was getting commission. Hyewon stood behind the counter, managing receipts and trying not to fold every time someone complimented the bouquet wall. But you didn’t see Wonyoung out front. Her parents were. And then you decided to walk in. Still in your suit and tie. In your hands was a modest bouquet of the same flowers you bought her on your first dinner together. You bowed quickly to her parents. Her mother blinked in surprise before breaking into a warm smile. Her father pulled you into a hug without any hesitation. “You got back just in time.” he said quietly, patting you on the back. “Good.”

You nodded, too choked to respond. Yena then spotted you. She hurried over, eyes wide.

“Oppa?” she said, her voice made it sound like you weren’t real. “She’s in the back room. Wow… You really came.”

You smiled at her, barely, and walked toward the half open curtain that led to the room. Inside, Wonyoung stood by the prep table, arranging a handful of freesia into a narrow necked vase.

Her hair was loose, falling in soft curls down her back. She wore a white satin dress - the one you swore made her look like she belonged on a magazine cover. The hem swayed lightly as she moved, brushing against her calves, elegant and effortless. She hadn’t heard you come in. You just stood there, admiring her for a moment. You then crossed the space between you and wrapped your arms around her. Wonyoung startled, tense under your touch then stilled. It only took her a second to realize it was you. Your scent, your arms, your heartbeat right against her spine. She didn’t pull away this time.

Wonyoung turned around slowly, fingers still damp from trimming stems. Her eyes met yours and held. You reached out, offering her the bouquet. The same flowers from your first dinner together, back when things were simple. Just slightly wilted. She hesitated for a second then took them without a word. Wonyoung held them to her chest like she wasn’t even thinking. Her body moved before her mind could catch up.

“I’m sorry, baby.” you said. “For everything. I didn’t text you the past few days… I was stupid for that. I made you feel like you weren’t important when you’re the only thing that’s ever felt certain to me.”

Her expression didn’t give away much. Her eyes flicked side to side, then back at you. Her tongue pressed to the side of her cheeks - once, then twice. That same little tic she had whenever she didn’t want to react too quickly. Wonyoung was taking her time, trying to stay composed. She still didn’t say anything but her fingers adjusted slightly on the bouquet, like she was holding it tighter. And then she spoke.

“You really came back.”

A pause. She smiled. It was small and tired, but it felt real after everything. You couldn’t help but also feel the corners of your lips twitching.

“I missed you, oppa.”

You opened your mouth to say something else. Maybe another apology - one of many still stuck in your throat. But Wonyoung stepped forward instead. She reached up, fingers slipping around your tie and tugged you down gently and kissed you. And just like that, it was finally perfect again. It was enough. Your hands flew to her waist, pulling her in like you didn’t want to risk losing her again. Wonyoung laughed into the kiss, quiet and breathless, and you didn’t care how messy it was. Everything had been crashing down around you for weeks. But now, in this moment, it finally st-

“Hey…”

You both froze.

Hyewon stood in the doorway, holding a tray of mini croissants, blinking slowly like her brain was still buffering. Her voice was casual, but her expressions were not. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. It was enough to confirm she saw everything.

“I was just…” she said, stepping further inside toward the guest snacks table. “Croissants. Yena said we were low.”

You and Wonyoung didn’t move. Still a little breathless. Still holding each other. Hyewon glanced over her shoulder.

“So you’re back, oppa.” she said, almost teasing. “Wonyoungie almost cried this morning.”

Wonyoung groaned softly, dropping her forehead to your chest. “Unnie…”

You felt her laugh against you. And you held her a little tighter.

You decided to stay for the rest of the day, even if she didn’t ask you to. You manned the cash box when Hyewon needed a break, helped Yena tie ribbons on bouquets - even when she bullied you for your ugly ties. You cleaned the floor when they got just a bit messy. You ran drinks to guests. You helped them fix the card reader when it suddenly didn’t work. Wonyoung didn’t say much but her eyes found you, often. A glance here. A smile there. Fingers brushing your arms as you two passed each other in the back room. It was easy again.

By the time the last guests left and her parents waved goodbye, Hyewon and Yena shoved the two of you out the door - citing ‘go refuel your love’ as the reason. The sun was already starting to dip behind the buildings. The air had cooled down. Her sandals clicked softly on the pavements as you two walked together home, steady and light. Suddenly, it felt like the whole of Seoul had gone quiet just for the two of you. Like two main characters in a rom-com, having the time of their lives down an empty street in New York - that kind of feeling. Everything golden, suspended, a little too perfect to be real. And yet, somehow, it was.

Wonyoung looked up at you, eyes a little tired but glowing in that way that only happened when she was truly happy.

“Oppa.” she said, squeezing your hand. “You looked weirdly domestic today. Like hot. In a husband kind of way.”

You laughed. “Weirdly? So I’m not hot on usual days?”

“Not in the using scissors and tying ribbons kind of way.” she shrugged and giggled.

“Okay… I see how it is. Me doing domestic labor does something to you, huh?”

“Kinda.” Wonyoung replied, trying to sound like she wasn’t very obviously flirting. “Might make you wear an apron everyday now, oppa. You never wear one when you cook.”

You stopped walking. Wonyoung turned to look at you, confused. “Huh?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you just leaned forward and grabbed her by the waist in one swift move.

“Ah- Oppa!” Wonyoung yelped, laughing as her feet left the ground. You spun her once, then tossed her lightly into the air, just enough to make her squeal and swat your shoulder midair. She landed back in your arms with a thud against your chest, breathless and giggling.

“You’re insane, oppa!” she gasped.

“You started it, Wonyoung-ah.” you said, holding her tighter, forehead pressed against hers. Wonyoung couldn’t stop giggling now, her laughter echoing down the street like something from a dream. And in that moment, you didn’t care about anything but her.

A couple walked past on the other side of the street - maybe teenagers or in their early twenties, holding hands, sipping from a shared cup. The girl nudged her boyfriend, who glanced over and smiled.

“Joonhyuk-ah, that’s so cute.” the girl said.

“Yeah, they look happy.”

You heard it. So did Wonyoung. She groaned into your chest, smiling. “Oppa…”

You grinned, kissing the top of her head.

“Let them watch, baby.”

But just as you started walking again, the guy across the street stopped.

“Hold the cup, Asa-ah.” he said.

Wonyoung peeked over your shoulder, confused - until the girl let out a squeal. The guy had scooped her up, threw her in the air and shouted-

“I LOVE YOU, ENAMI ASA!”

Right there. On a public street. No hesitation. The girl shrieked and hit him playfully, both happy and terrified while still clinging to his shoulders.

“YAH!! Are you crazy, Seo Joonhyuk?”

“YES.” he yelled back, throwing her in the air lightly again. “I’m crazy in love with you!!”

You and Wonyoung just stood there. Stunned and silenced. And then, you both burst into laughter. It was the full body, bent over kind of laughing. Wonyoung clutched your arm, trying to stay up right.

“I can’t- I ca- breathe, oppa.”

“This is crazy.”

“You did that, oppa.”

You looked at each other, grinning like two fools and totally in awe of the ridiculousness of it all. And something about it - the moment, the absurdity, the beautiful display of love on a Seoul street - just made the world feel like a better place. Happier. Wonyoung reached for your hand again.

“We should do that again next time, oppa.”

“Oh yeah? You want me to yeet you into the air while screaming my love for you in the middle of Gangnam next time?”

“Might be hot.” she smirked.

You squeezed her hand. “Noted, baby.”

The two of you kept walking - hearts full, steps in sync, caught up in a rom-com that didn’t need cameras or scripts to feel alive.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The next few weeks passed in a quiet rhythm you both learned to cherish. Wonyoung steadily settled into her new job. There were bad days - long ones, exhausting ones - but she was getting stronger. More sure of herself.

And you?

You prepped for the last exam like your life depended on it. Late nights, early mornings, scribbled drawings were everywhere on your desk. Wonyoung stayed patient with her quiet support, sometimes sliding a cup of tea onto your desk or falling asleep beside you with a book open on her chest. Then the day finally came.

Exam day.

You walked into that building with your stomach in knots and your brain already aching, but you did it. You finally got through it all. And when you walked out - shoulders sore, nerves fried, tie loosened around your neck - she was there.

Wonyoung.

In the brightest little dress you’d ever seen, like she had bottled sunlight and poured it all into her dress. A pearly cream dress embroidered with clouds, a curved moon and a sun, hugging her figure like it was made for her. In one hand, she held a bouquet - you weren’t lucid enough after the grueling exam to name a single kind of flower, but in your haze, you could tell Wonyoung made sure they had to match with her outfit. From the wrapping paper to the color palette. She made it herself. You could tell. You blinked hard, overwhelmed.

What would I do without you, baby?

Wonyoung stepped forward without saying anything at first. She just held the bouquet out with both hands, smiling softly like this was what she'd been waiting to do all day. You took it with trembling hands, eyes still locked on the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Congratulations on surviving, oppa.” she said gently. “You did so well!”

Before you could answer, before you could think, Wonyoung leaned in to kiss you. Right there. Outside the exam center. On the pavement where other examinees were dragging their feet and chugging vending machines coffee. For a second, you forgot how drained your body was. You forgot the test, the future, the stress. All you knew was her. When Wonyoung pulled back, your brain was completely blank, except for her. You heard some groan passing by.

“Fuck, even his girlfriend is hot?”

Another guy muttered under his breath. “I just bombed that test and now I gotta watch this shit.”

You couldn’t help it - you laughed. Louder than you meant to and quite shameless. Yeah, architect life was brutal*. Yeah, you were pretty sure your soul was still in that room. But even somehow, even in all that mess, you got lucky.

Real lucky.

*Shout out to all my architect readers (there seems to be more than I think lol)

Wonyoung then gave your tie one last gentle tug to fix it, then pulled back with a gleam in her eye.

“Let’s go, oppa.” she said, sliding her arm around yours. “I booked dinner at SIGNIEL Seoul.”

She smirked. “81st floor. Window view.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Is that why you insisted I wear my nicest suit and drive here instead of taking a taxi this morning?”

“Mm hmm.” she said sweetly, already dragging you toward the parking lot. “I wasn’t about to let you stumble into luxury looking like a zombie, oppa.”

You laughed, still dizzy from the kiss. “I don’t deserve you, baby.”

“Correct.” Wonyoung replied quickly. “But you do try really hard, oppa. So I love you a lot.”

Dinner there was something else, like a dream. The restaurant was perched high above the city, everything seemed like a living painting. Seoul glittered below, endless and golden. You barely made it to the table. The second you sat down, Wonyoung leaned over to unclip your tie and pour you water like she’d done this a hundred times. She liked taking care of you but… tonight felt nicer somehow. She then pushed the menu toward you gently.

“You’re allowed to order more than one thing tonight, oppa.” she said. “Or, you know, everything.”

You laughed.

“You earned it.”

You hadn’t even realized how tired you looked until Wonyoung reached across the table to fix your hair - smoothing the strands on top. She couldn’t help herself after all.

“You look good in dress shirts, oppa.” she added, voice low. “Even when you look half dead.”

You laughed again. “I might cry into this steak tonight. baby.”

“That’s fine.” she said, flipping through her own menu. “Steak’s a good choice. Nice to know you still know what I like even after that grueling test, oppa.”

You leaned your cheek into your hand, watching Wonyoung like she was the only person left on earth.

“Wonyoung-ah. What would I do without you?”

She didn’t look up and just smiled. She clearly knew.

“Probably forget to eat and wear ugly socks to work.”

The rest of dinner felt like falling in love again. The kind of love that was warm, steady or constant. Everything felt too nice, too expensive, too magical for someone who’d spent the last month drowning in architecture license exam stress. Wonyoung was glowing across from you. In that effortless way she always did when she was doing something she loved. And tonight? That thing might be dinner with you. She made you drink water every ten minutes. She cut your steak when your wrist looked like it might give out. She made you take photos together at the table, saying “You’ll thank me later, oppa” while resting her chin on your shoulder as the waiter snapped a few pictures. When desserts came - two little cakes, with ‘congrats oppa’ scribbled in chocolate - she clapped like you’d won the lottery. You watched her eyes light up with every bite, every teasing remark. You listened to her talk about the studio, about how Yena dropped a vase and blamed the wind… Wonyoung filled in every space you hadn’t realized had gone quiet in your chest lately.

After dessert, you leaned back in your chair. You were already imagining crawling into your bed the second you got home. But then, Wonyoung stood up and tugged at your hand.

“C’mon, oppa.” she smiled. “Let’s go to the rooftop. I want to show you something.”

“Rooftop?”

“It’s pretty. Trust me.” she nodded, tugging you toward the elevators.

And of course you did. So you followed her - up, up, past many floors, through the hallway that got quieter and fancier the higher you went up. You noticed her pace change when the elevator hit the hotel suite level. That little bounce in her step. The way Wonyoung bit her lip to hide a smile.

“Wait, baby. This isn’t the rooftop.”

She stopped in front of a sleek white door and pulled out a keycard from her purse. You were shocked.

“No way…”

Wonyoung beamed as she tapped the card and swung the door open. Inside? A suite. A ridiculously beautiful, corner window, high ceiling, imported soft bed kind of suite. You could see the whole city from here, even the Han river looked like it was twinkling for the two of you.

“Wonyoung-ah, you booked a room for this?” you spun around to look at her.

Wonyoung didn’t answer you right away. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you, pressing her cheek to your chest. You felt her heartbeat, calm and steady. She looked up at you.

“Do you remember our first dinner, when we just got back from Hong Kong?” she asked.

You blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

“After dinner, we went to my house.”

You nodded slowly. “Right…”

She smiled. “When you left, I kissed you twice. On the cheeks, right oppa?”

You chuckled. “Yeah. And I tried to kiss you on the lips.”

Her brows lifted, lips pouting as if she were saying ‘exactly’.

“I stopped you.” Wonyoung said softly, pulling back just enough to look at you properly.

“And I told you to wait your turn.”

“...Baby, are you suggestin-”

“Shh, oppa.” she reached up and placed her finger on your lips. Her voice was steady.

“We’ve been together for almost a year. And this is my first relationship and… everything, I guess. So I was scared at first. I didn’t know how to open up like that - physically, emotionally, all of it.”

You stayed quiet and listened.

“But you never rushed me, oppa. You always respected what I needed. You held me when I cried, stood by me when I was at my worst. You made me feel safe and loved.”

Her eyes didn’t waver.

“And now I’m ready, oppa. I want to be with you tonight. Not because I owe it to you. Because I love you. And I trust you.”

You just stood there, stunned and overwhelmed and so, so in love. Then finally you nodded.

“I love you, Wonyoungie.” you whispered. “More than anything.”

Before you could even say anything else, Wonyoung kissed you - soft at first, then deeper, hungrier until you were stumbling backward and falling onto the bed with her following right after. She crawled into your lap, hands sliding up to unbutton your shirt with a confidence that made your breath catch. Even in this dream-like state, you pulled back just a little, fingers brushing her wrist.

“Wait… do you have protection, baby?” you asked, voice low. Wonyoung didn’t answer as she reached over, opened the drawer on the bedside table and pointed inside. Your heart did a full somersault. You looked at her - flushed, glowing, eyes locked on yours.

“Why are you acting so confident if this is your first time?” you smirked, raising a brow.

That got her.

Wonyoung’s face twitched as she darted her eyes to the side for a second before she tried to recover.

“I don’t know…” she mumbled, slurring her words. “I guess-”

She didn’t get to finish. You flipped her over smoothly, catching the soft gasp that left her lips as her back hit the mattress.

“I got it from here.” you murmured, leaning down. Her fingers dug into your shirt, breath hitching as your hand slid against her waist. That was it, the moment everything melted away.

Just the two of you, finally meeting in the middle.

No more waiting.

Just love - messy, honest and overwhelming love.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning, the sun filtered in slowly and hazy through the curtains, shining softly on the sheets. Seoul was still quiet this high up, everything was just a hum below you. Your eyes opened to the sight of her bare shoulder, warm against your chest, fingers still resting where they fell sometime during the night. You almost didn’t want to move. That would ruin everything.

I could get used to this…

Then Wonyoung stirred, her voice muffled against your skin.

“You were… something last night, oppa.”

You let out a quiet laugh, arm tightening around her waist.

“You say that like I wrestled you.”

“You kind of did, you monster.” she teased, voice raspy. “And you’re lucky I let you.”

You glanced down at Wonyoung, strands of her hair splayed across the pillow, that flush still lingering on her chubby morning cheeks.

“Lucky, huh?”

She nodded sleepily. “Mm. One wrong move and I would’ve sent you back to that exam room, oppa.”

You laughed under your breath, hand moving to play with her cheeks.

“Was I too… rough on you last night?”

Her eyes cracked open just slightly. “Uh… a little.”

“Baby-” your smile faltered.

“But in a good way.” Wonyoung cut in, grinning lazily as she snuggled closer. “Don’t get all guilty on me now, oppa.”

“Okay, just checking.” you let out a breath, relieved.

She hummed. Then after a minute, she said.

“You’re now required by law to take care of me for life, oppa.”

You just laughed. “What law?”

“Mine.” she mumbled, poking your bare chest. “No backing down now, Han Haejoon. That was… a legally blinding act of love last night.”

You laughed again, this time so hard it even shook Wonyoung a bit.

“What logic is this, judge Jang?”

“Shh.” she yawned, pulling the blanket higher. “I don’t make the rule, oppa. Now take care of me. You are now sentenced to be by my side for life.”

And with that, Wonyoung tucked herself fully against your chest, already drifting again. This girl had just sentenced you to the best punishment ever and went straight to sleep.

“Guilty.” you whispered.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You didn’t even get the chance to check your exam results first. Wonyoung found out before you did. She barged into your work space with her phone, yelling “Oppa, you passed!” while shoving the screen to your face. You were still processing the word PASS when she started crying, already on the phone with her parents to break the news like she’d been the one who took the test and became a licensed architect. Then, she even called your parents, beaming while she shoved the phone into your hand. From that day on, life got… better.

Her floral studio kept growing. You, now finally a licensed architect, had a steady and growing career at the studio. There were nights you came home too tired to even talk, mornings you overslept together and laughed through the chaos. But you built a rhythm - coffee in the morning, bickering in the grocery aisles, late night delivery food while she wrapped orders on the floor while you revised designs on your tablet. You fought sometimes. Of course, life had to happen. But it was over dumb things and never stuck. You two loved harder, apologized faster and made time for each other.

Two years passed like that. Not fireworks everyday but something much steadier. Real love. A relationship that made room for both of you to grow. And then one night, you looked over at Wonyoung - wearing an oversized hoodie, folding pamphlets for a wedding fair, nose scrunching as she was hyper focused - and something inside you just clicked. You weren’t getting any younger, and honestly, it also felt like the right thing to do. Obvious, even.

You were going to propose.

You wanted to get married.

You would go to Wonyoung’s parents’ house alone, without her, to ask for their permission to propose to her and spend the rest of your life with her.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Her dad set his teacup down gently, the soft click echoing throughout the spacious living room. You sat straight, knees politely together, heart pounding. The living room was cozy, warm with afternoon light. Her dad looked at you for a long moment.

“So, Haejoon-ah.” he said finally, voice low. “You want our permission to propose to our Wonyoung and be our son-in-law?”

You nodded slowly, hands resting on your knees.

“Yes, abeonim. I’ve loved Wonyoung for a very long time. I really appreciate you guys treating me like I was part of your family whenever I come to visit or stay with her. That means a lot to me. You guys know how I treat and treasure Wonyoung. And… I want to spend the rest of my life with Wonyoung - with your blessing.”

There was a soft pause before her mom came to your side. She crossed the expensive looking table in seconds and wrapped her arms around you from the side, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice cracked right beside your ear.

“Oh, Haejoon-ah. Of course. Of course.” she pulled back to look at you, eyes glassy. “You’ve always been family to us. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Please propose quickly, hmm? I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been dreaming about grandchildren since you two started dating.”

You let out a breathy laugh, heart so full it almost hurt. Her dad shook his head fondly.

“She’s serious, you know.” he said, smiling. “She already showed me baby hanboks the other day.”

You bowed your head, eyes burning in the best way.

“Thank you, abeonim. Eomeonim. I promise I will try my best.”

Her mom nodded through a sniffle. Her dad raised his tea cup one more time.

“Well then.” he said. “It’s time you start planning something special. Our daughter deserves nothing less.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. Rain tapped softly against the windows, and Wonyoung had just curled up on the couch. Her hair tied back, no makeup - just warm and cozy, tucked against the armrest with her legs folded up like a cat. You’d bought the ring a month ago. You had it hidden in the back of your drawer behind an old architecture model. You’d check it every few days like it might disappear if you didn’t.

Well, today felt right.

So you sat beside Wonyoung with your sketchbook in your lap, pretending to flip through it. She glanced at you lazily, eyes still soft from a nap.

“Can you look at something for me real quick, baby?” you asked, keeping it casual. “New sketch idea.”

“I’ll be brutal, oppa. Don’t cry.” she teased.

She reached for the sketchbook with no hesitation, resting it across her knees. Wonyoung flipped open the cover, expecting blueprints. Concepts. Another half finished draft of whatever you’d been obsessing over this week.

But instead, Wonyoung found herself.

A pencil drawing of Wonyoung in the kitchen, arms elbow deep in a flower bucket. Her hair was messily tied up. The caption scribbled at the bottom said.

First week moving into her apartment, she was a bit mad that I got some water on her ribbon.

She blinked, confused but still turned the page. Then another drawing.

Wonyoung standing in the back room at her floral studio, doing her things. You still remembered that scene like it was yesterday.

She didn’t know I would come back that early. She didn’t know how hard I ran.

Page after page, it kept going. Small moments. Big ones. Her asleep on your chest. Her on the floor, giggling after your little play fights. Her waiting for you after your last exam in her dress, holding the flowers she arranged herself.

Then came the last page. You, kneeling on the ground.

Sketchbook-you had one hand extended, a ring box open in the center of the page. Below it, in your neatest, straightest hand drawn typography.

Will you marry me, Jang Wonyoung?

Wonyoung stared at the page for a moment, frozen. Then she looked to the side. You were on one knee, for real this time as you held out the box you’d been hiding for a month. You had been gathering up courage for a month now. Her eyes widened. One hand flew to her mouth, the other still gripping the sketchbook like it could steady her. Her chest rose and fell, shaky. You held the box a little tighter now, heart pounding so loud it felt like it filled the room.

“Wonyoung-ah” you said, voice trembling. “Will you marry me?”

Wonyoung let out a choked laugh, a mix of joy and disbelief, and set the sketchbook aside with her shaking hands. She leaned down and crawled toward you on her knees, t-shirt slipping off one shoulder.

“Are you serious, oppa?” she whispered, eyes glossy, a grin breaking through her stunned expression.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” you nodded.

And then she was in your arms - hugging you so tightly the box almost slipped from your hand. Her face was tucked into your neck, shoulders trembling.

“Yes, oppa…” she said. “Yes, oppa. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Life was crazy. Love came at you fast. You didn’t know what to expect. Still, you wouldn’t change it for anything.

From a heartbroken man in Hong Kong to a married licensed architect.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The first morning of your honeymoon came fast too. You woke up slowly, eyes adjusting to soft golden sunlight. The bed was so soft. For a few seconds, you just lay there - staring at the ceiling, heart full, body aching in a good way, wondering how the hell life got you here. And you turned your head toward the couch.

There your wife was.

Wonyoung, curled up on the window side couch in a fluffy robe, hair twisted up in a towel, legs tucked under as she held a small glass of fruit in one hand, nibbling casually. The city behind her didn’t mean anything to you now, it was just there to emphasize her beauty. She looked so good your heart didn’t know how to feel anymore.

“Morning, husband.” Wonyoung said with a grin, biting into a strawberry and raising her brow like she’d caught you in a crime scene. Her voice was warm and low. “Sleep okay?”

You laughed, still a little breathless from everything. From her. From last night. From the fact that this was all real - that you really got to call Wonyoung your wife now. The world kept moving but you felt like time had stopped in this hotel room. Wonyoung, in that sunlight, in that robe, looking at you since you were her future, her ending. The one you’d been fighting for, hurting for, working for.

You finally got Wonyoung.

You married Wonyoung.

And every version of you - the stressed architect, the deep in love boyfriend, the guy who almost lost her on the floral studio opening day - all dreamt of this moment.

Hey, you made it.

The blueprints weren’t done. Not even close.

But they had never felt more complete.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

the series finally ended... idk how to feel lol. hope u guys enjoyed it. my 2nd series in just 2 months. crazy!! shout out to all my architects again!!! i giggled a lot writing it lol

#kpop male reader #male reader #fluff #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x male reader #female idol x reader #kpop #kpop fluff #hyewon #yena #angst #ive #izone #kpop idol x reader #Spotify #wonyoung fluff

247 notes · View notes