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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 year

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Good Lil Boy

prince!wooyoung x princess!reader

enemies to lovers au

genres: tiny bit of fluff, loads of angst, smut- both hard and soft (mdi!) swearing, wooyoung being wooyoung (a tease), wooyoung driving you clinically and romantically insane, etc etc

word count: 23k

synopsis: you and wooyoung may be best friends but you are also each other's worst enemies, leaving no chance to humiliate and tease the other. when you meet at prince yunho's kingdom for a 3 months retreat, things take an unexpected turn as you start to place very personal bets and find yourselves unable to keep your hands off each other, something you'd regret later as you fail to keep boundaries.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, that is how it is,” Seonghwa was resting his face on one hand, elbow propped on the table as he scanned you, a smirk growing on his face. “Can’t say I hate what’s happening. Ought to put you in your place, Princess.”

You looked at Hongjoong for help, “He’s not fucking serious, is he?”

“Ought to teach you how to speak to elders too,” Seonghwa muttered and Hongjoong laughed.

“I’m sorry, Princess. That’s how it is. It’s only three months, what could go wrong?”

That was the conversation you recalled when you reached the castle in Utopia, the face you were dreading right in front of you as you got out of your carriage.

“This place is already one prince too crowded,” you looked at Prince Wooyoung, his smirk growing by the second. “Here to learn how to live up to your title, eh?”

“I’d say that to you,” Prince Wooyoung bowed dramatically. “This place ought to teach a princess how to make good use of her mouth.”

“Like you’d know,” you sneered at him as you waited for Hongjoong and Seonghwa to stop giving orders to the rest of your companions so they could join you and take you inside, away from that brat.

“I’d say I know very well- how to make good use of my mouth,” he winked at you and you put your hands over your ears, grimacing as you called for the two to hurry up. Prince Wooyoung scoffed in victory before going inside with his companions who greeted you with bows.

Just a week ago, you had received the news from your father- Utopia’s royal family had invited princes and princesses from across the continent, holding an event, something like a holiday retreat for everyone. The details of it you would receive upon arriving but you had heard it was going to be fun and games, and you would have believed them, would have enjoyed your stay except-

Except for the fact that Wooyoung was here.

You didn’t hate Wooyoung, no. You abhorred him, his sassiness, his brattiness, his very existence, just like he hated yours. And it wasn’t due to a petty reason (though that was debatable as well). As children, since your parents were close, you two had spent most of your prepubescent years together. You had even been friends. But everything had changed once you two were grown enough to be aware that you were a boy and a girl.

And it was both your fault and his.

You did not like recalling the dark times, as you so dramatically liked to put. Some would say it wasn’t even a reason big enough to hate each other, but you argued that it was. He had humiliated you in front of Prince Yunho, whose castle in Utopia you were now in. You, in return, had humiliated him in front of Princess Yuju of Neverland, whom he had always had a crush on. You called yourself even but he decided to fight with you, the result of which was now obvious to everyone who knew you.

Prince Yunho greeted you both as you entered the castle, inquiring of your parents’ health. You shared a hug, telling him how much they missed him and looked forward to meeting him in three months’ time, when all this would be over.

“Are you sure your parents are the only ones who missed him?” Wooyoung muttered and you flipped your middle finger at him, Yunho laughing at you two as he told Wooyoung to behave while he was around you. You left before he could start recalling the dark times, putting an arm in Seonghwa’s as he escorted you to the guest chambers.

“You should have told me that brat was going to be here,” you slumped on the couch, Seonghwa and Hongjoong snickering, “You both just love to see me miserable, don’t you?”

“Come on,” Hongjoong said, “If we’d told you, you would have never agreed to come.”

“Exactly,” you gave him a side-eye, “This is treachery. I ought to get you both beheaded.”

Seonghwa ignored your remarks like he usually did as he handed you a glass of water, “Cool down. It would do you good to tolerate his existence while you’re here. Who knows? Maybe you two will become friends again.”

“Yeah, who knows, Seonghwa,” you sipped the water. “Maybe he would fall to his knees and apologise. Maybe the world will end. Who knows?”

“Why is she so dramatic?” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong for help who was almost half asleep.

“The important question, my dear friend,” Hongjoong began, “Is why do we serve this spoilt Princess-”

“I’m spoiled? You clearly haven’t met Wooyoung.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong decided you were right later that evening when Wooyoung was flirting with the other princesses from around the continent while sending knowing smirks in your direction, which you tried to ignore but then he did what you feared- a princess you recognised was from the south came and asked you, “Did you really burn your hair off once while trying to impress Prince Yunho? All of it?”

However, the duo were also impressed by your patience and your will to not bend under Wooyoung, to meet fire with fire, as you replied, “Oh no, honey. That was Prince Wooyoung- you see how half his hair is another colour? That’s because they can never be the same colour again. Ask him, go on.”

The Princess, who was no more than 13, gasped, believing what you said right away as she made her way back to Wooyoung and seconds later, you heard a howl of laughter and you sipped on your wine in victory. Hongjoong patted you on the back, “I have to admit, that was a good one.”

“Do not encourage her,” Seonghwa warned but he, too, was smiling. “Here he comes.”

Prince Wooyoung plopped himself beside you, shaking his head as he grinned, “That was a good one. They refuse to believe I haven’t dyed my hair.”

“You should have been more clever with your lies,” you smiled sweetly at him, “I do wonder what you were thinking when you decided this was a good look on you.”

“Oh, the ladies love it,” Wooyoung flicked his half-tied hair, “So. I hear it’s about time you get married. Should I find you a good suitor here?”

Oh no.

“You’re my age,” you smirked at him, “Maybe I should announce you’re mine. Let’s see if you get the same company of ladies around you then.”

Wooyoung cooed, “Can’t resist calling me yours?”

You leaned forward, your noses almost brushing, “My tongue’s still bitter thanks to the aftertaste.”

Wooyoung made a face as you sat back in your position, “Three months here, Princess. Get ready for hell.”

He blew a kiss your way before he went back, making all the ladies that were watching go wild and you glared at Seonghwa and Hongjoong, “Give me a good enough reason not to murder him right now.”

“Your own execution?”

“I said a good enough reason,” you turned to look at Wooyoung who was now back to sitting in the middle of a crowd of ladies, “Execution sounds tempting.”

—----------------

The next day, all the young royals settled themselves in the Great Hall for breakfast where you spotted Prince San- an old friend of yours. You waved at him from a distance and wowed internally at how different he looked- he had definitely matured a lot. Prince Yunho stood up after everyone was done with breakfast, clinking his glass to get everyone's attention.

"It's so good to have most of you here, after years," he began, meeting eyes with the princes and princesses from across the continent, "It was my father's idea that I host this retreat for all of us, a way to catch up with everyone and reminisce over old memories, and who knows? Maybe some of us will go back engaged," he threw a wink in one direction. "Anyways, you all are free to roam around, but I had a little something in mind-"

He then laid out his plan- Mondays for horse riding, Tuesdays for board games, Wednesdays for outdoor games, Thursdays for history lessons, Fridays for balls and parties and Saturdays and Sundays would be free unless something came up. You liked that- you weren't bound to stay the whole three months (though Yunho assured anyone who wanted to could stay here forever) but you decided it was a relief from your life back home, where everyday had started to feel bland as you followed a mechanical routine. Everyone was just as excited as you, if not more.

You got up after Yunho excused himself, approaching San and sharing a hug, "You've changed, Prince."

"I hope it's a good change. You're prettier than ever," San smiled.

"Thank you," you smiled back. "Good to see you, Jongho," you addressed his Right Hand, who was also a friend of yours.

"It's been long, Princess," he bowed. "I see Yeosang- let's go greet them. Have you met them yet?"

Yeosang being Wooyoung's Right Hand- you shook your head, following him as Yeosang greeted you three.

"Ah, Princess, I'm glad you're here. Finally someone I can badmouth Wooyoung with."

You grinned, "This is why I like you, Yeosang."

"Now, now," Wooyoung approached you. "Already teaming up against me?"

"What do you mean? We've been a team ever since I can remember," Yeosang dramatically said, earning a laugh from everyone else and a slap from him.

"All my best friends are here," Yunho and his Right Hand, Mingi approached the group with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, "There's a lot of catching up to do. What do you say, drinks tonight, my room."

Everyone agreed, "Only if someone stops Mingi from crying when he gets drunk."

"I don't cry when I'm drunk!" Mingi laughed at Jongho.

"You definitely do, Mingi, I can attest to that," Yunho laughed.

Yunho was right.

Mingi did cry when drunk.

However, that was the least of your problems right now, because what threatened you was Wooyoung, who was an extreme flirt when drunk.

"Like sober Wooyoung wasn't enough," you put your feet on his shoulder to push him away harshly as he tried approaching you, almost crawling. "Now I have to deal with a horny Wooyoung."

It had all been normal- after dinner, you all met in Yunho's room after the rest of the people excused themselves for the night. Some were having drinks with their own groups, and your group of friends was as old as you so nobody batted an eye at your easy interactions.

You all caught up with each other, Wooyoung and you occasionally shooting a snide remark to the other, and the boys made you both sit in opposite corners, having a laugh over how you two still fought so much that it was probably love.

"That's not love," you spat.

"Yeah, we hate each other's guts," Wooyoung, for once, was on your side.

"You keep saying that," San teased, "I just know these three months are going to change something between you two indefinitely."

"Eternal hate sounds appealing, what say you, Wooyoung?"

"Very," he grinned at you.

"Gosh, is nobody gonna comment on his hair though?" You met eyes with everyone, "He looks like a half fried biscuit."

Everyone roared with laughter and Wooyoung gaped at you, "Nice try, Princess. Obviously trying to get attention off the fact that you have this weird haircut now- do you know it makes your face look fat?"

You unconsciously tugged at your bangs while the rest of the boys looked at each other, an echo of "I didn't even notice" and "me neither" going around the room.

"Please, have you looked in the mirror? And what's with the ponytail? You think you look hot?"

"I don't know, Princess," Wooyoung turned towards you. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, someone get me a drink before I throw up all over the rug," you mumbled, Yeosang laughing as he passed you a drink and you downed it, glaring at Wooyoung who still looked amused. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Prince. Someone might think you actually find me funny."

"I do," he said, "find you amusing. Such a mouth you have on you. God…" he downed his own drink. "I missed this."

You started smiling- you missed this too. You may hate Wooyoung's guts but he was still your oldest friend. Everyone cheered, clinking their glasses together, going back to teasing each other over anything and everything-

Until everyone became drunk.

"Get him off me, Yeosang," you almost cried. "He's being weird."

"You two need this, you know," Yeosang only watched as Wooyoung attempted to crawl on top of you just to spite you. "We ought to put you two in the same dungeon for these three months."

"There's so much sexual tension between them, it's not even funny," San commented.

"Oh, shut up!" You and Wooyoung shouted at him together and he raised his hands but his smug face said he had proven his point. You got up, going to hide between Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

"Princess!" Wooyoung cried out as he got up, swerving dangerously as he ran his eyes around the room, searching for- "You!"

He almost tripped on one of Yunho's sprawled limbs as he made his way in front of you, "Everyone! Do you all know it's time for our little princess to find a suitor!"

Everyone including, to your dismay, Seonghwa and Hongjoong raised their glasses and cheered for you and you slumped even further down the couch. Wooyoung met eyes with you, "So… Who in this room would you give a chance, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes, "You think you undeserving shits have a chance?" Everyone booed at you, making you laugh. "No, I'm serious. Who do you think I'd even consider? I have known you guys since we were toddlers, take that into consideration too."

Wooyoung went behind San, rubbing his shoulders. "This lad has grown up well. How about him?"

You looked at Wooyoung in warning, who sported the most smug expression. San was thankfully too drunk to notice what was happening. "Can you stop this and sit down before I make you?"

"Make me? You can't make me do anything, Princess."

You took the challenge, walking to him slowly and he mimicked your actions until you both were face to face. "Look at you. You're just begging for it, Wooyoung. Begging for me to put you in your place."

Wooyoung put his fingers under your chin and you tried to ignore the way his eyes were dark as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes and the shiver his touch sent down your spine. "Do I have to get on my knees for you to do it?"

You heard the faint oohs from your friends who were conscious enough to listen in. You smirked, "You think about that image a lot? You, on your knees, in front of me?"

"God, no," Wooyoung scoffed, patting your cheek lightly, "Don't flatter yourself, Princess."

"Alright, before you two kiss in front of me," Hongjoong got up, clapping. "Everyone, bed, now."

Wooyoung and you immediately pretended to throw up as you two drew away and you followed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to your chamber, collapsing on the bed and passing out before you could recall the events of tonight.

—--------------------

You were sipping your margarita, relaxing on a chair in the shade with some of the people who weren’t interested in horse-riding itself, or who, like you, were currently inconvenienced due to an injury- yours being a still healing ankle. You figured you could join in the horse-riding lessons in a week or two, though you weren’t sure you would be learning much- you kind of sucked at it no matter who taught you. You just couldn’t deal with horses.

But seeing Wooyoung zoom past the audience with a smug look on his face as he rode possibly the most beautiful stallion present, in a rather graceful manner, you weren’t sure you wanted Wooyoung to see you struggle with horse-riding. After all, he was always waiting for a chance to spot your weakness and make a joke out of it.

“You look like you’re wishing he’d fall off and die,” Princess Yuju- one of your oldest friends- laughed as she slumped down next to you with a drink of her own, patting the sweat off her forehead with a kerchief.

“Is it that obvious?” You muttered and she shook her head in amusement. “Okay, as appealing as that thought is, I was just wishing I could join, but you know how hesitant I am with horses.”

“I haven’t done this in a while so I have to admit, I was feeling nervous but Seonghwa… he’s a good teacher.”

You raised a brow as you noticed her smiling as she mentioned his name. “You still have a crush on him? I thought that was just a passing thing.”

“I thought too,” she sighed dreamily. “He’s just… such a gentleman.”

You put a hand over your mouth as you laughed, briefly recalling the events of last night. “You know what? Maybe you should see him drunk. He’s very talkative when drunk.”

“He shouldn’t see me drunk,” Yuju muttered and you giggled- she had a habit of getting physically affectionate when drunk, though she had a good level of tolerance. “And… here comes your favourite person.”

You didn’t know who she meant but the last person you were expecting was Wooyoung who was wiping his forehead with a towel and threw it in your direction as he got closer. With no time to dodge it, it landed on your face and you cursed under your breath, throwing it away.

“What’s your problem?”

“You have something on your face,” he said as he settled down in front of Yuju who was trying not to laugh.

“What?” You asked, patting your cheeks.

“Ugliness,” Wooyoung said and turned to Yuju. “How are you doing? You’re prettier than I last saw you.”

“And you’re still as shameless,” Yuju patted your back as you gaped at Wooyoung because how dare he? “I don’t get why you two won’t get along after all these years. It’s like you’re both doing it on purpose.”

“We get along well, don’t we?” Wooyoung asked and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, we do,” you looked at Yuju. “As well as water and fire.”

Yuju made an unimpressed face and spotted Seonghwa stepping off from his own horse. Just like yours, Wooyoung’s eyes also followed her gaze and you both shared a knowing smile. Yuju straightened and glanced at you both. “I’m going to leave you two… to bond.”

“To bond,” you muttered sourly as she left and Wooyoung scoffed.

“So,” he crossed his legs. “How are your parents doing?”

“Are we actually doing this?” You scoffed but when his straight face didn’t change, you shrugged. “They’re fine. What about yours?”

“Fine, for the most part,” he looked towards the field where a few people were still riding. “Mom misses you. She keeps complaining about how you haven’t visited in a while.”

You smiled at that- as strange as your relationship was with Wooyoung, your relationship with his mother was even stranger. It had started as you getting in trouble with her for sneaking in her room because you loved the intricate necklace she always wore- you had been too scared to ask her directly. However, somehow when his mother, instead of scolding you when she found you trying to hide under a table, sneaked under it herself and shared stories of her own childhood, the two of you found yourselves in a bond that resembled something like a friend, or something like a mother-daughter relationship without all its complexities.

You sometimes wondered if Wooyoung got his adventurous spirit from his mother.

“I wanted to, last summer, but we had that issue with Halaland going on at that time,” you sighed. “I really wished things had sorted out earlier.”

“Aw, missed me?” He cockily rested his face in his hands. “You can admit it, you know.”

You frowned. “What’s your deal lately? You’ve never acted so… clingy.”

“With each passing year, I level up,” he said and you laughed at that- it was true. He was levelling up each year, not just in his personality and behaviour with you, but-

You couldn’t help but notice how sharp his facial structure had gotten since the last time you saw him- a year ago when he had visited your Kingdom of Eden to sort some things out. Wooyoung caught you staring. “Look at you. Shamelessly checking me out.”

“Do they give you nothing to eat anymore?” You ignored his comment. “You look frail.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried-”

“Good for me, would make it easier for me to push you to your death-”

“It’s called maintaining myself,” Wooyoung got up and flexed his arm muscles and you blanched, the approaching figure of San shaking with laughter at you two.

“Leave her alone,” San smacked Wooyoung’s neck. “He’s just trying to impress the ladies- he thinks he looks hot like this. What do you think?”

“Easier to kill,” you muttered.

“He’s gotten stronger, actually, haven’t you, Woo?” San examined his friend from head to toe. “Wanna arm wrestle and see who wins this time?”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you laughed, knowing you weren’t ready for Wooyoung’s high-pitched screaming that followed every time he lost to someone in anything. Yunho caught your eye and he motioned for you to join him and Hongjoong.

“I see you two are getting along,” Hongjoong scoffed. “How’s your ankle?”

“I think I’ll skip next week too,” you rotated your ankle and winced when it stung. “Why do you both look so serious anyway?”

“Yunho’s just worried if everyone’s having a good time, and you and Wooyoung always make sure he’s in a constant state of worry,” Hongjoong shook his head in disappointment and Yunho laughed.

“No, it’s not that,” Yunho shook his hands. “He’s right about me being worried though. Are you having a good time?”

“Minus Wooyoung, of course I am,” you smiled. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time, and I’m sure we all needed a break. So you-” you patted Yunho’s arm. “Stop worrying and have a good time too. You can relax with us- we’re all friends here.”

“I also wanted to tell you something,” Yunho took a deep breath. “Princess Haeun of Halaland is arriving tonight.”

You didn’t hide your sour expressions. “I thought she wasn’t going to make it?”

“Seems like she is,” Yunho glanced at Hongjoong. “Will you be alright?”

“Of course I will be,” you answered. “Our issue with Halaland won’t influence my behaviour with the Princess, but you do remember we used to be friends before she started pretending we’re strangers, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not on the best terms with her either,” Yunho nodded. “I don’t know why she suddenly decided to come. I thought she would decline for sure since I was the one who sent the invitations.”

“She’s probably got something up her sleeve,” Hongjoong considered. “Let’s not let her get to us, though, shall we?”

But the moment the Princess entered the Great Hall and paused to search the crowd and stopped when she met your eyes, you knew the sinking of your heart was something you couldn’t ignore. She smirked and resumed walking, Yunho dutifully leaving the table to greet her and you turned towards the rest.

“You all saw that, right?” You looked at Yeosang and Jongho who were in front of you. Yeosang nodded.

“Maybe she’s just happy to see you,” Jongho teased.

“You’re thinking too much,” Wooyoung chipped in, stealing the last chicken nugget from your plate and you gasped as he put it in his mouth. “That’s just how she always looks like.”

“First of all, how dare you steal my nugget? And no, she doesn’t. She specifically met my eyes and gave me an evil smile. You’re blind if you didn’t see that.”

“You call that an evil smile?” Wooyoung laughed, looking around him. “Has anyone ever seen her smile?”

“You-”

“Shh,” Yunho slid in his place next to you, waving a dismissive hand. “You all attract too much attention. I’ll send you home if you keep acting like this.”

“Tell me you saw her evil-smirk at me,” you asked and Yunho looked around the table to make sure no one but your group of friends was listening.

“I think I did,” he finally gave in. “She’s weird. She specifically asked how you were doing- she doesn’t care enough to ask about you as soon as she arrives.”

“See?” You turned to Wooyoung, having proven your point, who fell silent. “She’s gonna have a bigger problem with me now. Especially after the events of last year.”

“Just ignore her, you’ll be fine,” Wooyoung finally said, downing his drink.

“It’s hard to ignore someone who has a habit of getting disrespectful with others,” you muttered, sighing deeply. Wooyoung and the others were no strangers to your rocky relationship with the Princess of Halaland. Others would dismiss it as something similar to your relation with Wooyoung, but he was your friend. He held no malicious intentions towards you, no matter how harsh he could be with his jokes.

“Just come to me if she tries something, okay?” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “I know exactly how to shut her up.”

You looked at Wooyoung, surprised, while your group of friends hooted loudly at that.

And there it was. Wooyoung was always the first one to protect you. No matter how much you hated his guts, at times like this your heart fluttered, so you simply nodded and told the boys to shut up, unable to meet Wooyoung’s gaze for the rest of the night.

—------------------------

You wondered who had the brilliant idea of assigning your seat diagonally across Princess Haeun in the history class because so far, so not good.

“I think we can all agree that Eden has a history of dirty politics,” Haeun began, glancing casually at you while you rested your chin in your hand, rolling your eyes at her. “Considering how only a decade ago, Eden almost called war on the Allied Kingdoms, shouldn’t it be clear that Eden does not really deserve a seat at the Peace Council?”

“Uh, I think that wasn’t Eden-” San began but was cut when Haeun continued.

“The Peace Council’s foundation is threatened by Eden’s presence in the council, in my humble opinion- no offence to the Princess,” Haeun pasted her trademark smirk over her face and you glanced across the room- quite a few youngsters looked doubtful by her confidence- or maybe your lack thereof. “I think the members of the Peace Council should be the kingdoms who condemn war, not condone it.”

“That’s, uh… an interesting stance you have there,” Jongho, who was voted to be the unbiased fact-checker/host for the day, said. “Anyone who would like to present an opposing argument?”

“I think,” you began, raising your hand and continuing when Jongho gave you the heads-up. “I think that Princess Haeun facts are biassed. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinions but I think the fact that the Allied Kingdoms were scheming to stop the trade from our shared seas… that calls for a threat or two, doesn’t it?”

“And as the oldest members of the Peace Council,” San was smirking, “Shouldn’t they have been resolving this issue ‘peacefully’ rather than this hostile approach which would clearly threaten the well-being of the residents of Eden?”

“What well-being, pray tell, would be threatened if the route was temporarily closed due to conflict? I’m sure Eden is capable enough to flourish trades with its neighbouring kingdoms rather than relying on the ones far away.”

“Conflict of the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland with Neverland, with whom we have maintained trade for as long as the kingdoms have existed,” You looked at Yuju. “Remind me again how our kingdoms would have been affected had the route been closed?”

“I think we’re all sensible enough to figure that out, aren’t we?” Yuju smirked. “Between the time to contact all kingdoms and begin trade, the damage… not only to Eden but to Neverland as well. I think it’s okay when it’s someone else.”

“Besides,” Wooyoung’s voice filled the room and you turned to look at his rather relaxed figure as he rubbed his nose, looking uninterested. “It’s rich coming from you when you sided with the Allied Kingdoms when things looked bleak for Eden. As the members of the ‘Peace’ Council, shouldn’t you have been, I don’t know, trying to do something for peace instead of something that would have surely instigated war?”

The look on Haeun’s face made you want to get up and kiss Wooyoung even if the thought somewhat repelled you. You turned to Jongho who was also trying to hide his satisfaction. “That’s right. As members of the Peace Council, I think whatever decisions made should have a peaceful outcome. If old dealings are disturbed, that would surely put anyone in a tight spot. Eden could have been less hostile, but the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland didn’t give them much of a choice in the first place.”

“Which is why no one really deserves the seat at the Peace Council,” Yunho concluded. “No one’s a saint. I think we should stop with the history lessons here and plan the ball for tomorrow, what do you say?”

The room burst into a chorus of cheers and you watched Haeun sulk in her seat while one of her friends tried to comfort her and shot nasty looks at you. You almost flipped the finger at them but you got distracted when Wooyoung took the empty seat behind you.

“You almost lost your composure back there, Princess.”

“Glad you decided to contribute with your valuable opinion,” you muttered.

“Know why?” He leaned forward, tucking your hair back. “I would like to be the only one who can rile you up. That’s why I’ll make sure I put Haeun in her place.”

You smacked Wooyoung’s hand away. “What sort of twisted logic is that? As much as I appreciate you trying to show Haeun her place, I think I can handle her. In fact, I think I should team up with her this time- she looks like she could kill you, not me.”

Wooyoung glanced at Haeun who indeed looked quite angry at Wooyoung. Perhaps, because they were neighbouring kingdoms, Haeun had expected Wooyoung to take her side but she couldn’t have been more wrong- Wooyoung had only one reason to side with you, and that was to have the upper hand. As if to prove that, he tilted his head. “Can’t handle me?”

“Sorry, no,” you made a disgusted face but then spotted San getting chummy with a shy girl in the corner- perhaps the princess of one of the kingdoms of the Allied. “Would you look at that?”

Wooyoung turned and chuckled when he saw the sight. “I guess he’s looking for a dance partner for tomorrow.”

“You got one?”

“Not yet,” he glanced at you. “And you?”

“I forgot that was a thing, honestly,” you sighed. “I don’t think anyone would be interested in me other than as a last option.”

“Now why would you think that?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “You don’t lack anything- you’re pretty, you’re intelligent, you’ve got the dirtiest mouth, you can put a man in a chokehold-”

“That’s exactly why,” you grinned, ignoring the rush you got when you heard the first two compliments. “I think everyone’s scared of me, especially since I’m always surrounded by one of you idiots.”

“Well, Princess of Eden, you’re my first choice. Will you go to the dance with me?”

“No way in hell,” you countered, watching Wooyoung give in and burst out laughing. “Who placed the bets?”

“Those idiots,” Wooyoung pointed at Mingi and Yeosang- Yeosang seemed to have won as he pocketed some cash from a sulking Mingi. “I do love how quick you are. That makes you more attractive than you actually are, which isn’t much-”

“And that’s your cue to shut up. Wanna make another bet?”

“I’m all ears,” he leaned forward.

“Haeun is going to say yes when you ask her to the ball,” you smirked.

Wooyoung raised a brow. “What makes you think I’d ask her in the first place?”

“Because she keeps looking at you like she’d like to fuck you up- and not in a bad way,” You winked at him. “And… because she’d do anything to make me jealous.”

“Yeah, because everyone thinks we’re a thing,” Wooyoung nodded in understanding, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t help when you’re… like this,” you said pointedly, glancing at the rest of the room who were all busy planning for tomorrow, leaving only the two of you interested in each other. “So?”

“So, I’d like to make another bet,” Wooyoung leaned forward, only the desk separating you two. “I know I’ll lose this one, but if Haeun makes the first move on me… you’ll be my date for the ball next weekend.”

“Ew, why would I agree to that?” You frowned. “And why would you want to take me?”

“I don’t like Haeun, you know I don’t. I won’t make the first move, but if she tries anything funny with me, I get to take you next weekend. And if she doesn’t, you have the choice of rejecting me.”

“Sometimes I wonder what you’ve stuffed in your skull to come up with things like that, but okay. I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t make the first move-”

“Hey, no cheating!” Wooyoung practically shouted, getting up. “It’s time to seduce her. I need to lose the first bet to take you to the dance next weekend after all.”

You weren’t sure if you were regretting agreeing or ever coming up with the first bet, but whatever it was, you were more confused about the way Wooyoung had looked at you right before leaving.

—--------------------

You were wondering what disgusted you more- the sight of Haeun fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung as she danced with him, putting on the fakest smile you’d seen on a human, and pretending to act surprised at times– or, the sight of Wooyoung who had his hands on Haeun’s waists, who was whispering things in her ears, who looked pleased whenever he made her laugh. You really couldn’t decide.

“People are going to think you’re jealous,” Yunho poked your back and you cursed as you twisted in surprise.

“I thought it was obvious that I am disgusted?”

“You keep telling yourself that, hon’,” Yunho shook his head. “Dance with me?”

You shrugged but accepted, getting up and straightening your midnight blue gown, glad you weren’t in a puffy peach dress like Haeun was- it was kind of making her look washed out. You took Yunho’s hand and he led you to the dance floor, the two of you taking up your positions and comfortably falling in a rhythm while you both observed the surroundings.

“You have eyes on you,” you said. “Who’s the lady in the black gown? Look at her when we turn.”

“Ah,” Yunho smirked and you raised a brow. “That’s the one I’m trying to impress tonight.”

“I think you’re doing a good job then,” you approved, smiling. “Do try not to smile like an idiot or she’ll catch on.”

“What, so I should play hard-to-get like you do?” Yunho looked at you.

“When have I ever played hard-to-get?”

“Isn’t that what you have been doing for so long now?” Yunho sighed. “I think you’re not even aware.”

“You’re not making any sense-”

“Wooyoung.”

You made a guttural sound at that. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Tell me what you think about him.”

“I don’t think about him, he disgusts me,” you muttered. Yunho winced.

“Try again. You’re too harsh, Princess.”

“Yunho,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you going to pretend you haven't known me since we were children? That you don’t know how Wooyoung and I have been since ages ago?”

“You used to be inseparable, you still kinda are,” he was grinning and you resisted the urge to kick his leg. “Problem is, you’re a bit too confused. Maybe you more than him. He seems to have figured it out-”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “You’re just trying to confuse me. Who placed bets this time?”

“No one,” Yunho stopped as the music ended and really looked at you. “It must be fun to act like you hate each other, but if you decide to drop the act… there are plenty of empty rooms in the west chamber where you two could-”

“And that’s my cue to get some air and wonder why I ever agreed to dance with you,” you curtsied him as the dance ended and he laughed, calling, ‘I know I’m right about this!’ as you steered yourself to the end of the ballroom to grab a drink. You encountered a few guests on the way who greeted you and made small talk, and by the time you had downed that drink, you were anxious to get some air.

You decided to find the balcony at the other end of the room- the one that would probably have no audience at this time. As you reached the door, you spotted none other than Wooyoung and Haeun through the window, Haeun explaining something to Wooyoung while he nodded nonchalantly. You wondered what they were talking about but you noticed Yuju waving at you from the side and you decided you’d rather busy yourself with the girls than to think of what Yunho said which would surely haunt you at night-

And haunt it did when you had finally been free of the endless greetings and the mini-meeting with Hongjoong and Seonghwa to decide the schedule for the weekend and prepared to go to bed. It was way past midnight and you had just finished dressing into your black nightgown, pulling a wrap over it and taking your cup of chamomile tea to the window to drink in peace but found yourself plagued with thoughts of a certain someone.

As if the devils had planned your fate for the night themselves, you found Wooyoung looking up at you from the garden where he was alone. You almost hid out of instinct but he had seen you so you just waved awkwardly. He looked around and motioned for you to come down, but you shook your head, showing him your cup of tea- he was no stranger to your night habits. But then he motioned that he was coming to you, and you considered declining but then nodded, though, after he left, you wondered if you had the capacity to get into a vocal-battle with Wooyoung at this hour.

You opened the door and let him in, sighing when you took in his figure- he still hadn’t changed and was dressed in a three-piece, the buttons now undone and exposing quite a lot. You cleared your throat. “If you’re here to mock me or something, you can leave right now.”

“I’m here for the tea,” he sounded tired.

“Long night?” You asked as you shut the door and motioned for him to take a seat while you mixed the tea for him. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Wooyoung glanced at you, slumping further down the couch. “I did have fun when Haeun was not pretending to be someone else other than who she is. I mean- why pretend?”

“That’s what girls do when they aim to seduce someone,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “Like this?”

He let out a low laugh. “She’s actually not such a bad person when she’s being normal.”

“Oh, so you like her then?” You handed him the tea.

“Not any more than I did earlier,” he said and you frowned in confusion. “Oh, and I won the bet, by the way.”

You made an impressed face. “She made the first move?”

He frowned in confusion. “You didn’t see her?”

“Was I supposed to witness that? Because that’s disgusting- oh.”

Wooyoung sipped the tea. “I should feel elated that I won the bet, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel good to be used. She spotted you near the balcony and that’s when she tried to kiss me. She thought I wouldn’t notice but I spotted you before her.”

“Just so we’re clear, I was only there to get some air but as soon as I saw the two of you, I backed away. It looked like you were having a… private conversation.”

“You should have joined,” Wooyoung shifted to turn towards you. “All she talked about was you.”

“Really?” You smirked, turning towards him too, not a lot of distance between you two. “All good things, I hope.”

Wooyoung chuckled, sipping again. “You looked good tonight, but I’ll be sending you a dress for next weekend. It’s going to be a masquerade ball- I know Yunho loves that shit. We’ll match.”

“Look at you,” you shook your head. “Your eyes always light up when you’re planning my demise. And I have plenty of dresses.”

“I know exactly what I want to see you in,” he let his eyes travel across your body and you suddenly felt conscious.

“Are you drunk?” You frowned. “You’re babbling.”

“But you’re blushing,” Wooyoung was smirking shamelessly. “I wonder why.”

“That’s from the second hand embarrassment I’m getting from you,” you countered, cursing yourself internally. “Stop being a creep.”

“You know you love me,” he clicked his cup of tea with yours before drinking. You made an unimpressed face.

“Oh, by the way, I forgot to give you this earlier-” he finished in his pocket, producing a small box.

“Wow, are you proposing to me?” You teased. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you, I-” he paused, shaking his head and opening the box to reveal a necklace with a teardrop turquoise shining in the middle. “Mom sent this for you.”

“You better finish that sentence, Wooyoung, I dare you to,” you muttered as you took the necklace from him and examined it. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

“My mom has always had a good eye for things,” he looked proud. “I just wonder why she wastes it on getting things for you-”

“I’ll thank her myself,” you interrupted, getting up and going to the mirror next to the fireplace, unlocking the necklace and wearing it on your neck- or trying to but you couldn’t find the clasp so you just settled at examining how it looked, but-

“Let me,” Wooyoung muttered- you hadn’t even heard him come behind you. You felt the brush of his fingers on the back of your neck and you suppressed the shiver it would have sent down your spine. “There,” he said, his hands back on your shoulders as he looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Perfect.”

You weren’t looking at the necklace anymore- you were watching him slide his hands down your arms. “You look like something’s bothering you.”

He glanced at you from the mirror. “Something is.”

He didn’t say what, but you felt him take another step towards you so your back was flush against his body. This time, you didn’t stop the shudder, especially when he held your hands in his and rested his cheek against your head. “Like what you see?”

You couldn’t think- sure, this was a very Wooyoung thing to do. But this time, the two of you were alone, there were no bets in question- as far as you knew- and you hadn’t really been arguing like you had been pretty much the entire week. “What are you doing?”

You hated how it almost came as a whisper but he didn’t seem to care. He let the tip of his nose trail down your temple, squeezing your hands as his lips trailed down your neck, making you push your head back to give him more access, and then-

Then he kissed what had to be your sweet spot- you moaned more in surprise than in pleasure because how could he know when it was his first time? The sound seemed to have pleased him though, because he started nibbling at the spot, his arms wrapping around you, your hands still in his. He made a sound too as he shifted, his hair falling on your slightly exposed chest. You couldn’t help but watch the entire thing which perhaps made your nerves more heightened, your legs weakening with each passing second, and just when you were about to lose your footing, he drew back and helped you stand up, examining what he had done.

“Nice,” he licked his lips. “Goes well with the necklace. Now you can show them both off proudly.”

You gaped at him, the spot quickly turning a deeper shade of purple. Taking a deep breath, you mustered the deadliest glare. “Jung Wooyoung, you absolute-”

“Come on,” he shook his head, having grabbed your wrist that was in the air to punch his chest. With his other hand tucked under your chin, he ran his thumb on your lower lip and drew closer to whisper in your ear. “You liked every second of it.”

With a final kiss to your cheek, he drew back with the cockiest smile you had ever seen him wear, and waved goodbye as he left the room, leaving you standing in the middle of it and trying to control the overwhelming sensations that ripped through your body in his absence. You finally made it to the couch, slumping down, because-

Just what had he done?

And why did you like it so much?

—---------------------

You weren’t sure if Wooyung was avoiding you but things were pretty, abnormally peaceful, which was saying something. Perhaps he knew you were out to murder him the first chance you got, but the weekend passed by rather peacefully and you even had a girls only sleepover where you gossiped all night, sharing stories and pampering each other.

And that was when, in the middle of massaging your shoulder, Yuju had noticed the telltale fade of Wooyoung’s mark.

“Now what is that-” she had begun but you shut her up, promising to explain it later and then avoiding her for the next two days until it was Tuesday and you finally met your group of friends in the evening for board games, where both Yuju and Wooyoung were present.

You paused in the middle of the room, Seonghwa and Hongjoong beside you. “Can we go home now?”

The duo turned to look at you once, ignoring you as they joined the rest, making you take a deep breath and walk to Yuju who wasn’t sitting too far from Wooyoung.

“I knew you couldn’t avoid me forever,” Yuju looked a bit too pleased to see you. “Wooyoung and I were just chatting. He said he missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you called to him, deciding at that moment that there was no way in hell you were letting Wooyoung get the better of you, and that retribution would come. He turned and acknowledged you with a nod, his glance going to where the mark would have been, carefully concealed now. “In fact, my hands have been itching since that night of the ball.”

“Ah, I feel shy,” Wooyoung hid behind San and Yuju laughed sarcastically. “What do you aim to do? Do not try to make a move on me-”

“Your mind ought to be cleansed,” San slapped Wooyoung’s neck and you laughed.

“Hold up- the night of the ball?” Yuju raised a brow. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing-”

“Something-”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned, turning to Yuju. “You know how he is. He’s trying to turn me clinically insane.”

“I’m clinically insane… for you too,” Wooyoung threw a wink and the three of you gasped.

“San, please take him away from me before I grab something sharp and end this once and for all,” you begged and San chuckled, practically dragging him across the room and you felt like you could finally breathe, though, now that he was in front of you, you both kept exchanging death glares and talking in your own sign language.

While Yunho explained the rules of the first game and you saw Wooyoung watching you instead of listening to Yunho, you flipped your finger at him and he blew a kiss at you, which probably the entire room saw. You stifled a groan and heard a disgusted sigh-

“Get a room, you two.”

You turned to the source- Haeun, who was sitting near you. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to respond but when she muttered something to her friends and they all laughed at you, you turned to her, ignoring Yuju who tried to stop you.

“Get a room, you said, huh?” You asked in a low voice, glancing at Yunho who was explaining something to the youngsters, and then at Wooyoung who had his eyes on you. “Too bad you couldn’t get one that night.”

Haeun’s friends collectively gasped at that and she actually looked offended. “What would you know about that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess Wooyoung was bored enough to come find me. You know we hate each other’s guts. What does that say for you?”

Haeun scoffed. “I’m not interested in him. Go ahead- he’s all yours.”

“Oh, she says she’s not interested in him,” you turned to Yuju. “Does she want me to wipe that horrible image of her fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung during their dance? Because that would need some help-”

“You-”

“Ladies,” Yunho warned with a smile- only you knew that smile meant he’d had enough, though to the others he still looked calm. “The games are starting. Are we good?”

You straightened and nodded and Haeun did the same. Yunho distributed the cards and you played with your respective groups- yours against Haeun’s. The plan was to play in groups of 6 and compete with each other until 2 remained.

Haeun looked confident, but if there was one thing you were good at, it was at catching lies. You had always been observant enough to notice that one particular thing they did when they lied, which gave them away.

And you knew Haeun would always scratch somewhere on her skin before lying. The game of bluff was easier, especially with Yuju and Eunha by your side who were better at card games than you, so your team took on a winning streak.

A few hours later, only your team and Wooyoung’s team remained and you sat across from each other. You looked at Yunho and Jongho. “This team has all the luck, it seems.”

“I think we should announce our defeat here,” Eunha joked. Yunho’s luck wasn’t something that anyone took lightly.

“Come on,” he laughed. “We have 3 rounds. Anything could happen- and you two are good at this. I don’t know why you teamed up with y/n though, she kind of sucks at games…”

“Not this one,” you challenged. “Don’t tell them why.”

“I guess you’re feeling cocky today,” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “Maybe we should have met in private before coming to the games. I’m not sure how confident you would have been then.”

“I’m not sure you would have made it here then,” you scoffed. “And neither would I have. I’d be busy cleaning up the murder scene.”

“Oh please, you two,” Jongho shook his head. “So stupid. Let’s start.”

The thing about Wooyoung was, you knew him inside out. He had taught you all the games that you knew today, so you knew how he played as well. You only needed to feel Wooyoung out- you were pretty sure that you would make it.

Halfway through the game, Wooyoung couldn’t believe his ears as you called out every bluff of not only him but Yunho as well. Jongho was a little hard to crack. “I’m your mentor, you can’t do this to me!”

You downed another drink that Hongjoong passed you, who loved seeing Wooyoung miserable. “Kill him, y/n.”

“Got it,” you laughed, glancing at the audience around you. Yunho scolded a sulky Wooyoung and told him to man up for the second round, where they could turn the tables if they won, otherwise it was going to be a clean victory for you.

You relaxed, observing your opponents. Your strategy for the this round was to target Wooyoung. After all, you had revenge to take. You dealt the cards and you let them pass twice before noticing Wooyoung picking at his earlobe. You stifled a smile and watched him place two cards on the table.

“Two nines,” he declared and looked at you.

“That’s a bluff,” you told him.

“Are you sure about that?” He leaned forward, smirking. And there it was- his defence mechanism.

“I’m calling it.”

Yuju tapped your arm to make you think again but you ignored her. You looked at Yunho. “Go ahead and check.”

Yunho laughed in defeat before he announced the cards, and while the rest cheered, Wooyoung and you found yourself in a staring contest. He couldn’t help but smile- he liked when you were in your element.

“How can you always tell when I’m lying?” He finally asked when everyone started to scatter.

“You have this very obvious thing you do when you lie. Not going to tell you,” you said.

“Well, you won,” Wooyoung clapped. “What do you want?”

He was talking about the bet you had placed earlier- fulfilling a wish if you won. You grinned, “I’ll save it for later.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Got some plans, I see.”

“Yeah,” you leaned forward. “I have a few, yes.”

“Well, at least you’ll stop avoiding me then?” He asked casually and you shrugged.

“Who said I was avoiding you?”

“Come on,” he scoffed, getting up and motioning at the table with the snacks. “You missed horse riding yesterday.”

“My ankle is still healing,” you told him. “I wanted to sleep in.”

“And you didn’t come to have dinner with us on Sunday.”

“I had to answer letters from home- wait, why am I even giving an explanation?” You took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie. “What makes you think I’d want to see you on purpose? My whole life has been navigating around ways to avoid you-”

Wooyoung scoffed. “I distinctly remember you watching me do that to you in the mirror,” he pointed towards where the fading bruise had been concealed with makeup. “You didn’t push me back. I wonder why.”

“Maybe because I was having a hard time processing exactly what you were trying to do,” you tugged at the necklace he had put on you subconsciously.

“Want me to test your processing speed again?” Wooyoung grinned and you gaped at him.

“You know, that’s enough cockiness. I bet you’d be whimpering if I did that to you.”

“Ah, you think too highly of yourself, but I’m open if you want to test that theory-”

You laughed in disbelief. “What’s got you so horny these days, Wooyoung? Haven’t had a good fuck for a while?”

Wooyoung poked his tongue in his cheek- a sure sign that now he was turned on, and somehow, after realising just what you had said, you felt your ears heat up. “No. No I haven’t. And you look like you haven’t either.”

“I’m good,” you muttered. “Now get your head out of the gutter.”

“Well,” he drew closer, glancing around. Everyone seemed to be busy so he stood behind you just like he had that night and you found yourself frozen in your spot. He leaned forwards, one arm going around your waist and keeping you flush to himself while the other picked a chocolate from the table that he popped in his mouth. Your flush got deeper when you realised that the hard thing poking at your back wasn’t his flashy metallic belt. He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re holding yourself back, Princess. I know exactly what you want to do to me. I’m just telling you that you can. I’d like to be ruined by you.”

With that, he drew back and you almost lost your footing as you gathered yourself, unable to meet his eyes because yes, you hadn’t been the best at hiding the scandalous, borderline unholy flashes that crossed your mind whenever Wooyoung did something or acted some way. It took you a while to realise that only Wooyoung was capable of riling you up to the extent that you’d want to show him his place in that way.

But right now, you were more pissed because how could he do that to you when everyone was right here? You glared at him but he only winked at you, waving goodbye and turning-

“Oh, no, you’re not,” you grabbed his arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, my,” Wooyoung grinned. “If anyone sees us, what are they going to think?”

“Like I give two shits about that,” you dragged him out of the room, praying no one would question your absence, though people would surely notice the absence of Wooyoung since he was, well, noisy to put it nicely. “This is the west chamber, right?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung was now walking beside you, his arm still in your hand. “Why?”

“Yunho mentioned there were empty rooms here, with some torturing instruments,” you muttered and he laughed out loud. “Perhaps I should test them to see if they’re still functioning.”

“Nice idea. I’m thinking spiked cuffs, neck collars-”

You tried the door of the first room but it was locked. The second was unlocked and you stopped, realising if you stepped in, you couldn’t back out-

“Having second thoughts already?”

“You are driving me insane,” you groaned, pulling him in and locking the door. You took a few deep breaths and looked around the room- pretty plain but you dragged a chair and made him sit so you could stand and point your finger at him.

“Stop looking so amused. Tell me what exactly is your problem. How dare you do that to me?” You watched Wooyoung’s smile fall. “Do you want me to tell Hongjoong? Because he’s gonna kill you if he learns you’re playing with me-”

“Who said I’m playing?” His voice was serious. “I just like to see you all riled up like that-”

“Oh?” You put your hands on your hips as you stared at his bulge. “You like to see me riled up? Does that turn you on, Wooyoung? Maybe I should give Haeun some pointers-”

You shut up when Wooyoung casually put his hand on top of his bulge and gave it a rub, licking his lips as he looked at you. You shook your head, stepping towards him, ignoring the red alert in your brain that told you none of this made sense, but there was one thing about you- you didn’t believe in eye for an eye, you believed in doing worse in retribution.

And Wooyoung had no right making you feel that way. So you put your hand under his chin, making him look up at you. “Look at you. Practically on your knees for me, aren’t you?”

“Not yet, Princess,” he shook his head. “You’ll be on your knees before me.”

“You wanna bet on that, pretty boy?” You cocked your head, running your thumb over his lips and when they parted, you slid it in and watched him suck it. He could still taste the chocolate you had just been eating. You took it out, trailing it down his chin and down the neck, putting your hand around his neck and examining how it looked, squeezing it a little to make his mouth part for air. “My hands make a nice enough necklace, I think.”

“Are you going to give me something that’d go along with it?” His voice was husky.

“Do you want me to?” You asked, testing his patience and you saw his eyes glaze. He gave you a subtle nod and you drew closer until your noses were brushing, giving his neck a little squeeze as you trailed your lips to his ears and whispered-

“Then beg for it.”

Wooyoung groaned, grabbing your free hand and keeping you in your place. You let your lips trail down his neck for good measure before drawing away and seeing the desperation in his eyes. You scoffed. “You’ve got the look right. You just need to say it out loud, Prince.”

“You know I could make you beg for that right now, don’t you?” He asked and you shrugged. “I’m only letting you do this because I want you to.”

“Oh? Submissive tonight, are we?” You laughed, cupping his face and kissing right next to his lips. “There’s your reward.”

There was a moment of pause where you both contemplated just what had happened before Wooyoung finally lost it and decided to have his way with you- he got up quicker than you could process and had your face in his hands and was kissing you like a man deprived of air and you were quicker to respond by parting your mouth and letting his tongue in for a heated kiss, your hands fisting his collar for support. You moaned loudly in the kiss and he swallowed it, not giving you a moment to breathe as he led you to the wall so he could lean down and angle his face better in the kiss.

If you began to wonder what you were feeling, you could only explain it as something inside you breaking free, some wall that had been there falling down- something like that. Your brain was mush, your heart feeling things you had never felt before, but what you felt most was the unmistakable desire coursing through you. You broke the kiss and gasped for air as he rested his forehead against yours, repeatedly pecking your lips while you caught your breath.

“You’re… insane,” you breathed and he chuckled deeply, brushing his nose with yours and making you bite your lips as you resisted doing something stupid- but maybe… maybe now you could.

After all, you two couldn’t simply go back from here so while you were at it… you could enjoy it.

And see him suffer, the voice in your head said. You smirked, fisting his shirt and pushing him away, shaking your head as you pushed him back until he sat down on the bed and you got on top of him. He was about to hold your leg and position it to his preference but you muttered a ‘nuh-uh’, instead making him spread his legs so you could press your knee lightly on his bulge and as he moaned, you kissed him for a few moments, one hand supporting you on top of him while the other slowly crept behind his neck and tugged at his long hair when you broke the kiss.

You examined how he looked in that moment- lids heavy, lips parted and wanting more, throat bobbing- you scoffed and grabbed his tied hair, fisting it so you could angle him as you finally started kissing his neck and found the sweet spot when you felt his bulge twitch under your knee’s pressure. You started licking and nibbling there without holding back- he needed to feel more than what he had made you feel, so you made sure you made him groan multiple times as you planted the mark. Somewhere between it, his hand had travelled to your waist and was squeezing your hips- you tried to ignore it but your core was throbbing very painfully now.

You finished your work and admired it, making Wooyoung laugh in disbelief. “All this for revenge?”

“What can I say?” You smacked your lips. “You gave me something to look forward to.”

Wooyoung bit his lip out of habit and considered the fact that you were still pressing your knee where he wanted to. Before he could do something about it, though, you drew away, brushing your clothes.

“We’re done here,” you told him and he stifled his groan- he liked what game you were playing with him and he was not going to be the one to admit defeat first.

“For now?” He dared ask.

You licked your lips as you scanned him ever so slowly and nodded. “That’s on you. This- what happened tonight? That’s on you too. Don’t get any ideas, and remember-” you pointed your finger at him but then decided against it, lowering it. “Remember- this means nothing.”

You weren’t sure if the look that passed Wooyoung was hurt or regret but he needed to realise that if he had started this game with you, he was going to be the one who'd decide his fate. “This means nothing… unless I want it to mean something, right?”

You didn’t answer that, but it looked like he had understood, so you told him not to follow you before leaving the room and going straight to your own, going to the sink and washing your face with cold water and gripping the sink as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Oh, how you had wanted to let him do things to you, but…

But Wooyoung understood. He had taken the first step, dissolving the unmistakable sexual tension between you two that had been there for years now. He had risked it all, and your response had been unexpected but now that he thought about it, it was something you’d do, and deep down, he knew it. He knew that you hated losing. If he had simply kissed you and confessed that he was interested in you, you would never have responded because of the strange love-hate relationship you two had for years now.

Friends, you called yourselves. Were you friends? Yes, but did friends do this type of stuff? Probably not, he laughed to himself as he recalled when something had possessed him to mark you. He just couldn’t resist it when you wore the necklace that he had chosen for you. Yes, it was from his mother, but he was always the one who picked the gifts for you. Would you have worn it if you knew?

As he lay down to sleep, he was plagued with such questions for most of the night and he wondered if he could stop things here or take the next step and find himself falling in dangerous, perhaps unwelcomed territories.

—--------------------

It looked like Wooyoung was taking his sweet time deciding just what he wanted. You didn’t avoid him anymore. In fact, you two were pretty normal around each other now, occasionally arguing like always, sometimes teaming up to bully one of your friends- just the usual. You were bullying San right now because he seemed to have a few loose memory screws.

“Forget world history, San, you don’t even remember your own life history,” you laughed. “You really don’t remember that time you held a whole debate about butts being what- one?”

“I think he insisted on two,” Wooyoung laughed. “Honestly, I kind of agree.”

“No, we’re not doing this,” Yunho shook his head aggressively. “Look at this-” he raised his hands in the air and you choked on laughter. “One buttcheek and the other- there are two buttcheeks but they belong to one butt-”

“It’s not that deep!” You laughed. “We’ve done this before, so let’s shut up now- there are people watching, and for goodness’ sake, Wooyoung, grab Yunho’s hands- he’s making weird gestures.”

Wooyoung pulled Yunho’s hands down, all of you laughing. You noticed the girl Yunho was interested in watching him from the other end of the room and you kicked his leg from under the table. “Still not asked her to the dance tomorrow?”

Yunho’s eyes went wide in realisation. “I was so busy planning the thing that I forgot I had to attend too!”

San shook his head in disappointment and Wooyoung urged him to go and ask someone out. Yunho looked at the rest of you. “Who are you going with?”

“Yuju,” San said and you raised your brows- that was news. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he laughed. “We just waited too long to ask who we actually wanted to, so we plan to catch their attention tomorrow night.”

“Ah, what interesting lives you’re living,” you sighed dramatically.

“Who are you going with anyway?” Yunho asked.

“Lost a bet and now I have to accompany him tomorrow.”

San laughed but Yunho seemed to have caught on. “I see… He doesn’t seem too sad about it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” you challenged. “Any chance to torment me, he happily takes.”

“Eh, come on,” Wooyoung poked your thigh. “It’s not that bad.”

“You tell yourself that,” you said dismissively. “You better not send me a sack tonight.”

“You’d look pretty in a sack though,” Wooyoung said quite seriously.

“Ew,” San got up. “Stop flirting with her every chance you get, Wooyoung.”

“I’m going to ask her,” Yunho got up. “Wish me luck!”

You watched the duo scatter and you glared at Wooyoung. “I’m serious. Don’t send something stupid.”

“I won’t. I’ve got this brilliant, most seductive red dress that I just have to see you in-”

“I’ll tear it to pieces if I think it’s too much,” you promised and he laughed, getting up and purposefully squeezed your shoulder before exiting the room. You froze for a second but then noticed Haeun eyeing you and mouthed an aggressive ‘what?’ before turning to find the girls.

That night, you found a box in your room with a note attached to it. You ignored the note and opened the box, revealing a red, flowy dress and you wowed when you took it to the mirror and saw how good it looked on you. If Wooyoung had chosen it for you personally, he really did have a good eye. You called a maid and wore the dress to see if it needed any alterations, but it was a surprisingly perfect fit save for the shoulders which could be fixed with a stitch.

“Wherever did you find someone who knows exactly what would look good on you?” The maid sighed dreamily.

“I think he just got lucky,” you laughed.

“I think he knew exactly what he was doing,” she winked at you, finishing the stitching and taking her leave. You sat down with a glass of water and noticed the attached note and considered burning it but then curiosity took the better of you and you opened it-

“The only reason I got this for you is so that I can take it off for you tomorrow night.”

You bit your lip to stifle your smile as you looked up in disbelief, cursing yourself internally at the way your stomach did a flip after reading that. You even considered getting rid of the dress, but it would be such a shame-

And truly, when you wore it and got ready, hair tied messily in a bun with loose tendrils framing the mask on your face, red painted on your lips, you had to admit- Wooyoung had you wrapped around his fingers. He was messing with your mind- no wonder you got so dolled up for him.

So the only thing you could do tonight was to not let him get the better of you. When he knocked on your door, you composed yourself and opened it but all composure broke when he grinned shamelessly.

“You look like a hyena when you smile like that,” you commented, about to step out but he held your wrist and got you both inside so quickly that before you knew it, he had pinned you against the door.

“You have no idea how crazy you’re making me right now,” he whispered against your ear and you kicked his shin lightly, making him wince as you stepped away.

“Enough of that. We have a ball to attend,” you went to the mirror to look at yourself for the last time. “Wear your mask.”

“I couldn’t tie it properly, so I was hoping you could pin it for me,” he dragged a seat in front of you and sat on it, handing you the mask. You rolled your eyes but grabbed a few pins from the mantle before coming back to assess the situation.

“You should get a haircut,” you said, running your hands through his hair as you tied it in a half pony, letting the bangs from the front loose.

“First thing when I get home,” he said and you nodded, fixing his mask and asking him if it fit well before tying it and then pinning it with his hair. You were almost done when you noticed him smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

“What?”

“I’m getting… deja vu,” he said and you slapped the back of his neck but he grabbed your wrist and made you face him.

“Wanna do something about this?” He pointed at the still fading bruise on his neck- the one you gave him.

“What, did you not go around parading it for the past 3 days?” You asked and he scoffed.

“If you want me to exhibit it, then sure,” he nodded. “I could tell people that you gave it to me.”

“Oh, honey,” you grabbed Wooyoung’s chin in your hand and made him look up at you, leaning forward a bit. “No one’s gonna believe that.”

You felt his throat bob as he licked his lips and swallowed and you watched him for a moment too long before making him tilt his head and then you did the unthinkable- you pressed your lips against the faded bruise so now it had the mark of your red lipstick instead.

“That’s better, yeah?” You scoffed before exiting the room, grinning when you heard him shout ‘You’re crazy!’ from the room before he followed you, your grin widening when you saw he hadn’t erased that and that it was going to be visible for the rest of the night.

You entered the ballroom and greeted anyone who recognised you both through the masks, most of them shooting Wooyoung funny looks because of the kiss mark on his neck. Anyone who asked, Wooyoung joked about Yeosang being the one who did it which earned a good laugh. A few moments later, you found your spots at the dance floor where the dances were going to be held before everyone would start partying after the King and Queen would leave.

The first dance was as normal as dancing with Wooyoung could get- occasional teasing comments, you purposely stepping on his toes, him wincing louder than he should, and then you switched partners for the rest of the dances, rotating until the last song where you’d dance a slow one with your actual partner. You got to dance with Seonghwa who had quite a few things to say about your choice of dress but you shut him up when you told him it was from Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung?” He gaped at you. “Why would he?”

“Why would he,” you wondered as well, and then you switched to dance with Yeosang.

“I’m hearing a really sick rumour about me and Wooyoung,” he said as soon as you began dancing and you failed to stifle your smile. “I hope you’ve got nothing to do with the origin of that rumour.”

“Of course not,” you smiled innocently. “That’s Wooyoung’s doing. Shall we murder him together?”

“Let’s,” he agreed, and then you chatted about your plans for your group hangout tomorrow, deciding the menu.

During the next dance with the Prince of Halaland- Haeun’s younger brother Haneul, he introduced himself, you asked him if he was still good friends with Yunho and learned that that was why he was here.

“I know things with my sister are a bit… rocky, but I hope you don’t mind her,” he apologised on her behalf and your heart softened.

“Oh, not at all,” you told him. “We used to be friends, after all, Haeun and I. I know what she feels right now but I’m not going to entertain her until she comes to her senses.”

“At least one of you is being wise about this-”

“I do tease her on purpose sometimes, though,” you winked and he laughed, saying that as friends, you could do that whenever you were going through a rough patch. Finally, you switched for the last dance and found yourself in a grumpy Wooyoung’s arms.

“You were getting really chummy back there,” he commented.

“Are you jealous?” You asked and he nodded enthusiastically, making you laugh. “Well, you don’t own me.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “I wish I did.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mask. “You know, I would really like to know what’s going on in your head. What was with that note?”

“Did you keep it safe?” He smiled cheek to cheek.

“I burned it.”

He shook his head. “What are we gonna do about that fiery temper of yours? Well, to make things simpler, Princess, this dress you’re wearing is not helping at all with my newfound desire to… fuck you.”

“Newfound?” You scoffed. “Are you sure that’s new? Because if I begin to think back, I think you’ve always had one screw loose when it concerns me.”

“Hmm… food for thought,” he agreed. “Shall I then entail the things I’d like to do to you tonight?”

“Go ahead, do your worst,” you decided to play along.

“Well,” he twirled you and brought you back in his arms as you rocked to the slow melody just like everyone else. “When this is over, I’m gonna take you to your room and wipe that bloody lipstick off your lips with my own. And then…” he licked his lips and you found his hold on your waist tightening so you curled the hair on the nape of his neck. “Then I’m going to take this dress off and mark you wherever I please.”

“Oh,” you said nonchalantly. “And then?”

“And then,” he shook his head in amusement. “Then I’m going to find out if your pussy is as filthy as your mouth.”

This time the gasp that left was every bit real. “Jung Wooyoung!”

“You asked for it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tonight, I’m going to have my way with you, Princess. I’m going to be the one in control. Tomorrow, though… I could let you do whatever you please to me.”

“I never said I wanted any of this, did I?” You asked.

“You don’t need to,” he brought you closer. “Your body responding to me is indication enough.”

You bit your lips as you felt arousal pool through you and just like that, the final dance was over and the partners bowed to each other. Wooyoung said that he would find you later and dispersed in the crowd and you made your way to the drinks because there was no way you could do this without being a little high.

The rest of the night went by chatting with your friends and eating and laughing, a blur until you spotted Wooyoung waving at you from the door and calling you to join him.

“It’s past midnight, but it doesn’t look like this party is gonna end anytime soon,” he said. “So how about you and I… take our leave?”

“What do you really plan to do?” You poked his chest and Wooyoung raised a brow.

“Are you… drunk?”

“Maybe a little,” you sighed. “I can’t do this if I’m sober.”

“Oh, that says a lot about you,” Wooyoung scoffed. “I know you’re not drunk, just a little tipsy. And now I know you want to do this as much as I do. And if you think you can’t do it when sober…” he leaned in, “That means I must have quite an effect on you.”

“Right, maybe, and partly wrong,” you confirmed, taking his arm and pretending he was escorting you to your room like a decent human to anyone who was passing by. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but hold that thought- I think I like where we’re going. No strings attached though. Three months here, Wooyoung. Then we’re just like we were before, is that a deal?”

“Hmm… that’s a deal. But I must place a bet on that,” Wooyoung opened the door of your room and you stepped inside, watching him shut the door and then take off his mask. “You’ll be begging me to stay when it’s time to go back.”

“Oh, how highly you think of yourself. Shouldn’t it be the other way round?” You smirked and he drew closer, pulling the string of your mask so it fell in his hands and he discarded it with his own. You unclasped the fancy hook of his coat and started unbuttoning it. “I think… I think you’re gonna actually fall for me before our time here is over.”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “Make me fall for you then. Try your best.”

“Wow, I thought you were not going to be submissive tonight- you really can’t make up your mind, can you-”

Wooyoung cupped your face in his hands, scanning it ever so slowly and you mouthed ‘what?’. He only shook his head, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I don’t understand how we got here, but I really like what I see right now, y/n.”

The only sound present was the cackling of the fireplace and the sound of your breaths mingling as he drew a bit closer, joining his forehead with you. “If it’s too much, if you want to stop, tell me to stop, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back once you give me the heads-up.”

You sighed. “I’m going to pretend that I’m drunk and I’m letting you do this, okay?”

You didn’t wait for his response but made the first move, capturing his lips in a kiss and he eagerly responded, your lips fitting with each other like it was supposed to have happened that way. You shrugged his coat off, leaving him in his black button up shirt and took a step forward so he could hold you against him because you wanted to feel every bit of him as much as he wanted to. He drew apart, picking you up effortlessly and you laughed a bit as he placed you on the table and hastily put your stray hair away from your face as he kissed you again.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, not feeling much through all the layers your dress had. Wooyoung seemed to have recognised the problem and let one hand travel to your back to figure out what to do while he put his tongue in your mouth and you exchanged heated, wet kisses, the lewd sound of it filling the room because you both knew you were enjoying that way too much. You pushed him back and muttered, “The fucking dress you chose, Wooyoung.”

He laughed, peeking back and finding the hidden zip, glancing at you once before sliding it down and down. You held on to his neck as you rose up a little so he could drag it down, leaving you in-

“Wow,” he breathed, admiring the black lace undergarments that you wore on purpose tonight.

“Like what you see?” You dragged your heels up his leg. “You, shirt off, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he winked, unbuttoning his shirt and putting his toned chest on display, about to take it off but you told him to leave it, bringing him back where he belonged- in your arms, legs wrapped around his waist and this time he bent you down as he kissed so passionately that you moaned loudly and tugged at his hair.

“Enough of that,” he muttered, “I’ve got other plans. Shall we take this to bed?”

“I think this is more… exciting,” you tilted your head, kissing the mark on his neck that you had left. “I think I should do this everyday so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Oh?” He caressed your cheek. “I think everyone believes that’s Yeosang-”

“Shh…” you kissed his neck again, making him chuckle. “So. You’ve successfully managed to wipe off my lipstick and take my dress off. What’s next?”

“Let’s see…” he ran his hands down your shoulders, tracing your waist next and you let him run his hands everywhere on your body as if he was memorising it himself, engraving your curves in his mind. He began at the same spot on your neck, biting it, his hands going to your waist and sliding to hook your panties in his thumbs that he pulled up to make you moan. He let you guide his face wherever you wanted him, let you guide him down so he could plant another hickey on your chest, and then he was trailing kisses down your waist and you stifled your groans until he reached dangerously down and you gasped.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight, you hear me?” He promised and you nodded as he went up to kiss you again while his fingers found their way under your panties and slid along your wet folds once, twice and then thrice- but he was not letting you breathe as he kissed you as well. Your legs were weak and apart now, one hand on his shoulder for support while the other moved around helplessly.

“What’s got you so wet for me, Princess?” he muttered as he broke the kiss and trailed his lips to your ears, nibbling at them. “Want me so bad? Huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered and he stopped right there.

“Beg for it, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Wooyoung-”

“I said, beg for it.”

You shut your eyes in defeat, feeling his finger still hovering over your painfully throbbing clit. “Please, Wooyoung, please. Do whatever you want.”

“Now that’s a good girl,” he chuckled, kissing your lips and then straightening, pinning your neck to the table with one hand while he finger fucked you and your mouth parted for air as you locked eyes with him- his gaze alone was making you breathless but the way he watched you while he slid his finger inside and out of you? It was mad.

“So fucking tight,” he slid another finger and you writhed under him as best as you could when he had you pinned down. “Never been fucked, have you?”

“I have,” you managed to say, “But…”

“Not like this, huh?” His voice was deep and he squeezed your neck a little when he found out exactly how to bring you to your high- his thumb rubbing your clit as his fingers teased your insides. He watched you carefully and just when it looked like you couldn’t take it anymore, he took his fingers out, examining them before making you look at him as he licked them clean and you, surprisingly enough, found it arousing enough to shiver entirely.

“Mmm, you taste better than I expected,” he commented, sliding your panties off in a second and admiring your swollen area. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Please, just do something,” you whined shamelessly and he chuckled, spreading your legs apart as much as you could and blowing on your clit, making you gasp out loud, later horrified by the sound that came out of you as he laughed. “You’re gonna regret this-”

“Tomorrow, Princess,” he promised. “Tonight, it’s my turn,” he said, diving right in and planting a kiss on your clit, making you want to clench your thighs but his grip on your legs was too strong for that, so you told him to wait and got up a little.

“I want… to watch you,” you admitted. “Grab me a cushion.”

“Wow, okay, easy there,” he teased though his hard-on revealed just how much that turned him on. He made sure you were comfortable and then kissed you on your mouth until you tasted yourself on him before he got on his knees for you, just like you had wanted to, and began to kiss your inner thighs, trailing his lips to your core and practically making out with it before he started with his tongue sliding inside you, feeding on your moans as he ate you out. You tugged at his hair and when his nose brushed your clit, you almost screamed.

“Just… just like that,” you told him and he purposely brushed his nose against your clit again before continuing to lick your arousal like he wouldn’t get to ever again, his grip on your legs tightening so much you were sure they would leave a mark of their own. He found his pace, tongue sliding once inside you and then up your folds, caught you shivering and repeated that until you were moaning so loudly anyone passing by could hear. The knot in your stomach built and tightened at an uncontrollable pace and you pulled Wooyoung even closer to you which was when he sucked your clit and you reached the climax, shuddering violently as he finished his ministrations, leaving you feeling like you were on cloud nine and could never find your way back.

“I never thought…” he began, wiping his mouth, “that this could be so fulfilling.”

You didn’t respond, simply tried to catch your breath and get your brain to work again. Wooyoung started trailing kisses until he reached your face and made you look at him. “I was good, wasn’t I?”

“You… are such a slut,” you managed to say and he laughed out loud, kissing you once.

“You love that and you know it,” he patted your cheek, picking you up and taking you to your bed, going through your wardrobe and picking out a green nightgown. You tossed your bra away and he raised a brow- he hadn’t seen that yet.

“Like what you see, huh?” You said tiredly. “Come here.”

He tossed the gown on the bed and you made him lie down, sliding his pants down while he looked confused. You simply said, “You look like you need it too. Now be a good little boy and let me do this.”

He chuckled and you pressed his hard bulge, earning a moan instantly which made you smile. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard length and suddenly, you were sure you could go for a much intense second round but you held yourself back- not tonight. Not now. So you rubbed your hands up and down his length, making his eyes roll back with pleasure and you kissed the tip of it, licking down a stripe and then jerking him off, his breathy moans filling the silence of the room. You made him watch you please him until he came all over himself.

“I’m a good girl, alright?” You smirked as you grabbed your discarded panty and wiped his cum off of his stomach, making him groan and laugh. “I clean up well.”

“You’re too much,” he shook his head. “You… you’re too much for me.”

“Please, you have seen nothing yet,” you promised, getting on top of him and kissing him deeply, making his length rest between your parted folds and you dared to grind once, the both of you moaning. “You… have seen nothing yet, Wooyoung.”

With a final kiss, you wore your nightgown and he grabbed his boxers, about to get up but you grabbed his arm. “You can sleep here, you know.”

“I don’t think I can hold myself back if I do,” he shook his head, getting up and wearing the rest of his clothes. “Maybe next time… I might.”

You smiled at that and he kissed your forehead before telling you to get some sleep, but you lay lovestruck all night.

—----------------------------

“That’s it. I’m going home. Pack your stuff, Hongjoong and Seonghwa-”

Wooyoung laughed at that and you glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “What? I’m only offering to help!”

“He’s mocking me, don’t you see?” You turned to your Right Hand and Advisor. “He purposefully announces that I am avoiding horse-riding, mentioning nothing of my injury so everyone would think I’m scared of horses- which I am, a little, also thanks to this brat!”

“Oh, come on, are you still sour about that one time? We were 13!”

You were 13, visiting Wooyoung. That was probably the summer your relationship started changing from inseparable friends to frenemies, mostly because Wooyoung was always pranking you and teasing you about something. He had played a prank with a horse, making you believe the horse had gone rogue and you almost thought you would die. He got a beating from his mother after that incident but that didn’t stop him from being a smug ass and joking about it every now and then.

You were a bit traumatised after that and it always took you a while to get used to horses before you’d feel comfortable again. But this time, you really had your ankle injury as an excuse to avoid riding, though now your ankle was fully healed and it was about time you went back…

“I’ll take my time getting comfortable with the horses. I don’t trust him. I’m not taking up his offer, please translate it to him because he seems to not be understanding anything I’ve said so far.”

Seonghwa groaned loudly. “You both still act like you’re 13. Wooyoung, please stop being a jerk about this. And y/n… stop overreacting. If anyone else had offered you the same thing, you would have accepted.”

“Yes, I would have, but this is Wooyoung!” You pointed at him and even Hongjoong started laughing along with Wooyoung. “I cannot trust him!”

“Really?” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You don’t trust me with this, but you trust me enough to do other things-”

“Shut up,” you glared at him, looking at Seonghwa. “What can I do to get him off my back?”

“I’ll join, okay?” Seonghwa got up. “If Wooyoung tries anything funny I’ll stop him.”

“Does it have to be him?” You groaned.

“Honestly, you two need to work out your differences- you’re both adults now,” Hongjoong began and you almost cried. Your own court was ganging up on you. “I don’t get you two. One moment you’re trying to kill each other and the next…”

You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he passed you a flirty gaze before winking, and you stifled a smile. Hongjoong seemed to have caught that- “See! I don’t know what’s wrong with you two. What do you say, Seonghwa? They look chummy enough to do this together, let’s leave them be.”

“Wait, what did I do?” You laughed but Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren’t having any of it.

“They’re kids, both of them. You, Princess, are going to be riding a horse by yourself by the end of this session, otherwise I’ll make you do my paperwork for a week.”

You passed Seonghwa a death glare before asking Wooyoung to lead the way, ignoring how the two snickered behind your back. Wooyoung was clearly enjoying it but he promised to be serious.

And surprisingly, he was serious. He made you feel out the horse, made you get comfortable with it until you could pet it, and then he made you walk it with you. You were squirming most of the time but started to feel comfortable after about half an hour, which was when he helped you up. You winced a little as you settled in front of him on the horse.

“What’s wrong? Ankle still hurts?” He asked.

“Just wrong footing, it’s okay,” you told him and he patted your thigh.

“You should be more careful, y/n. How did you get it injured in the first place?”

“Aw, are you worried?” You turned and scratched his chin, making him shut his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, well, I fell from the stairs.”

“So clumsy,” he shook his head. “You should take good care of your body, okay?”

You shrugged, holding the reins and he put his hands on yours, ready to ride. He rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “What do you say I give you a foot massage tonight?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you very much,” you answered politely and he laughed, kissing your neck before drawing back and you gasped-

“Not in public!”

“Come on, I do that to everyone, no one cares,” he simply said and you shrugged- that was true.

“Do you do that to everyone too?” You asked as you rode at a slow pace.

“What?” Wooyoung’s teasing tone was an indication that he understood exactly what you meant.

“Whatever you’ve been doing with me lately,” you swallowed. “Do you mess around?”

“Nope,” he promised. “Only you.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach, stifling your smile. “Better be only me while we’re… together?”

“Together,” he squeezed your hands before tightening the reins so the horse increased its pace. “How are you feeling?”

“What?” You asked after a moment.

“About the horse. Are you okay?”

You realised you’d been too busy feeling Wooyoung’s body against you, his hands on yours, his words and breath in your ear, his face against your side that you’d totally forgotten about the horse and your little fears about messing up.

“I- I’m okay, surprisingly.”

“I knew I’d make a good distraction,” Wooyoung said proudly.

“You do actually,” you laughed. “I don’t think I’m distracted enough though.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung drew closer so the rocking of the horse made you fall in a rhythmic movement with his body. “How about now?”

“I think… I’d need aftercare,” you teased and he chuckled deeply.

“Do you flirt like this with anyone?”

“Only you,” you said and he shook his head, speechless for once.

As promised, once you were all done with the horse-riding and you were following the others to dinner, falling behind as you looked around for Yuju, Wooyoung grabbed your arm and put a finger on his lips to tell you to stay quiet, taking you around the corridors until he tried one of the doors and found a small storage room, taking you in and shutting the door, immediately cupping your face and kissing you as if it was his last time. Your knees went weak in shock and you held on to him as you kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck.

“God, I missed your mouth,” he pecked your lips. “I missed you.”

You hmm-ed against his neck, making him exhale deeply. You pecked his neck and then caressed his face. “I’ve been aching for you, Wooyoung.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he laughed in defeat. “What do you want me to do?”

You kissed him in answer and his hands went to slide under your blouse, holding your bare waist as you explored each other’s mouths, not even bothering to stay quiet. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties and you gasped in his mouth, shaking your head.

“Not now- we’ll be late for dinner. Everyone will notice.”

“Tonight then?” He asked.

“I’m sleeping with Yuju tonight. Tomorrow night?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow night with Yunho,” he said and you groaned. “I’ll find you, though. Tomorrow.”

You nodded, kissing him one last time before exiting first and making up the excuse of trying to find Yuju when your friends asked why you were late. Wooyoung arrived a few moments later and you ate dinner without meeting eyes, the remnants of desire still getting the better of you both.

That night, Yuju came over to your room and you both caught up on your lives now that you two finally had time alone. You two were eating chocolates on the bed as you talked about the flings back home, politics, family, and everything. She was one of your oldest friends so it always felt extremely comfortable with her. You were both bare with each other.

“So,” you shifted so you were lying down on your stomach like Yuju. “Any progress with Seonghwa?”

“No, but…” she smiled and hid her face and you poked her arm.

“But what? Why are you shy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t think I’m into Seonghwa anymore,” Yuju admitted, putting her hands on her cheeks.

“And my plan to get Seonghwa hitched fails yet again,” you sighed. “You look like you have more to tell.”

“Make a guess, y/n.”

You paused, your past conversations replaying in your head and you gasped. “You! You hooked up with San, didn’t you!”

Yuju laughed and you wowed in disbelief, asking what exactly happened. She sighed happily. “We were pursuing other people, teaming up to make them jealous. But during the ball, we never left each other’s side. We were too busy with each other, and before we knew it, the ball ended. He came to drop me to my room, and somehow… We ended up making out-”

“Ew! That’s cute but disgusting.”

“We were drunk,” Yuju laughed, slapping your arm. “But he… oh my god, y/n, I’ve never been kissed better. You need to get San to kiss you once because he-”

“Yuju, shut up!” You groaned.

“And then we sat on the floor all night talking and making out. We passed out I don’t know when, but we woke up in each other’s arms then, pretty sober. I guess we couldn’t go back from there…”

“So you two are now an actual thing?” You asked and Yuju shrugged.

“Maybe. We haven’t put a name to it but he asked me out on a date this weekend so I guess… we might be?”

“Wow, you’re living the life, huh?” You smiled. You were happy for them, though this was the most unexpected outcome. “You guys actually make a cute couple, but I’ll need a few days to process this-”

“I know,” she laughed. “It really was unexpected for us too. Anyways, enough about me. Tell me who you’re seeing these days because you’ve been glowing lately.”

“Really?” You frowned. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Lies,” she sang. “You reek of love.”

You made a face but couldn’t stifle your smile and Yuju repeatedly poked you on your stomach until you gave in. “Okay, okay. Wooyoung and I may have, uh…” you tried to find a word but couldn’t. “We, uh… we’re not dating, hell no. But we-”

“You hooked up with Wooyoung!” Yuju’s scream, you were pretty sure, could be heard for miles. You tried to shut her up but she was dancing around the room.

“I fucking knew it!” She laughed in disbelief. “I knew there was no way you weren’t fucking each other. You’d be blind if you haven’t noticed how Wooyoung looks at you-”

“He’s a pervert, of course he looks at me like that-”

“No, you don’t see, y/n,” Yuju shook her head knowingly. “I know it when a man is in love, and I know that you both would rather die than admit you’re in love, but everyone knows it, you hear me? Everyone sees it.”

“No they don’t,” you frowned.

“Yes, they’re all pretty sure you have something going on.”

“That’s old news though,” you said. “People always thought there was something between me and Wooyoung even when there was nothing but pure hate.”

“But how do you feel about him now?” Yuju wiggled her brows.

You sighed deeply, sitting and drawing your knees to your chest. “I don’t know, actually. We’re only taking advantage of each other, it’s nothing like that, but… I’ve never felt so… alive, Yuju. He brings out a different person in me- one that even I don’t know existed.”

“Oh?” Yuju raised her brows. “Tell me more.”

“Well,” you thought about it. “He just… makes me feel more confident in myself. I don’t know if he’s pretending to or if it’s real but he makes me feel like a fucking queen which is funny because in public we miss no chance to humiliate each other, but when we’re alone… even when we’re not hooking up which is pretty recent by the way, he just always says or does something that makes me confused.”

“It sounds like you didn’t really get that part right. It doesn’t sound like you’re actually taking advantage of each other.”

“We’re only hooking up while we’re here, because we’re both lonely.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you both sleep at night,” Yuju dismissed. “So the hickey was from him, right?”

You passed her a side-eye before nodding. “I was so confused when he did that to me. He made me watch it. Like we were having a cute platonic moment and suddenly he does something like that and expects me to be the same? And then he’s driving me insane so I decided to get revenge, and one thing led to another and somehow, we’re here.”

“Damn,” Yuju breathed. “You’ll figure it out soon, I hope, but I don’t think you can go back from that.”

“I know, that’s what’s eating me up,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can go back from this, but…” you took a deep breath. “It’s only the beginning. I’ll think about that later.”

“Yeah, because right now you two are horny and are pretending to not be in love as you satisfy each other. What a great idea, especially when you two are always at each other’s throats!” Yuju laughed. “Must call for some wild sex-”

“Shut up,” you laughed, “Wait till you get it done with San. I can’t wait until he finds out what a hoe you can be.”

Yuju winked at you. “He’s not such a saint himself.”

“Really?” You frowned. “He acts like a ball of cloud so I don’t know…”

“He’s a monster-”

“Okay, that’s your cue to shut up,” you put your hands over your ears. “I want to keep my clean image of San intact, thank you very much.”

—-------------------------

You were dreaming.

The tension from your shoulders was relaxing, and all your worries were fading away, being kissed away, small pecks across whatever skin was exposed through your camisole. You were sleeping on clouds so you shifted, smiling to yourself, and the hands running across your arms were warm-

You gasped as you opened your eyes, getting up and getting your eyes to adjust to the darkness as you looked at the body beside you-

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” Wooyoung’s low voice asked, putting a worried hand over your shoulder. “I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you told him, putting your hair away from your face. “Fuck, I thought I was dreaming. When- how did you get here?”

“I may have stolen some keys…”

You started laughing at that after a moment and it looked like that made Wooyoung relax too. He pulled you closer in a hug, cradling your body. “I’m sorry that I scared you. I was only going to sleep next to you so I was giving you a few goodnight kisses. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

This. Moments like this when you wondered if it would actually be so bad if you and Wooyoung got together. And this wasn’t the first time- even when you were friends- or frenemies, as everyone called you, you had these moments a lot, which was how you were able to tolerate Wooyoung. Yes, he was a menace, but he was also the most caring, loving person you knew.

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’s okay, Woo. You should have woken me up, I was waiting for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, only the full moon illuminating the room. “You waited for me?”

“You told me to, dumbass,” you slapped his chest. “What time is it anyway?”

“Around 2,” he told you and you nodded, shifting in his lap. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

Your stomach did a somersault. “Why waste the night sleeping?”

Wooyoung tilted his head as he looked down at you, one arm under you. He brought his hand to caress your face, looking at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked- there was clearly something eating him up but he shook his head before joining his lips with yours in the most slowest, sensual kiss you had ever received. He made you lie down on the bed as he continued to kiss you, slow and steady, one hand still caressing your face while the other traced your body. You found yourself lost in that pleasure- you never knew only kissing like this could make you feel so… bare. He broke apart, peppering kisses all over your face and making you giggle, then pecking your lips multiple times, never looking away from your eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed. “You’re being… different.”

“Do you not like it?” He asked, waiting for your response and you frowned at how he wasn’t even teasing you about it.

“I like it,” you admitted. “Please continue.”

He smiled and got back to kissing you, trailing his lips down your neck and planting kisses there as well. You made a decision then- to not question Wooyoung. To let him be rough with you when he wanted, to let him be this soft with you even though it was making it feel like you two weren’t simply just hooking up for the heck of it, but-

Making love. That’s what it was right now, as Wooyoung took off your camisole, leaving your upper body bare. He gently ran his hands over your waist, up to your chest, palming your breasts before going down on one and kissing it, and then the other, playing with you until you moaned out loud enough to his liking. You pushed him away to take off his shirt as well, running your own hands down his chest, tracing his sculpted muscles before kissing him again and then your tongues were exploring each other’s mouth as things picked up a pace and you tugged at his hair a bit roughly, making him groan into the kiss.

“I love it when you do that to me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe before trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking on his way down to your waist, uneven moans escaping your mouth which just seemed to please him further. He pushed the sheets away, taking off your panties and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs, making you writhe under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he breathed against your left thigh, trailing kisses up until he reached your core and you gasped when he planted a kiss on your swollen clit before licking a stripe up your wet folds, scoffing at how wet you were just from kissing alone. “Do I make you feel so good? That you’re soaked like this?”

You bit your lips at the sudden change in his tone and he didn’t wait for your answer as he started playing with your clit using his thumb, his tongue diving right in and you let out a strangled breath, struggling to keep your thighs apart for him but then ditching the idea when he got rougher, sliding a finger in you and you clenched your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensation of the combination. He was soon sliding a second finger, glancing at you to make sure you were okay, diving deeper.

“So tight for me, aren’t you?” He got closer to your face, grabbing your chin. “You still haven’t answered my question, sweetheart.”

“What… question?” You asked, momentarily pausing when he shifted his fingers in you and started going at a slower pace, also slowing your approaching high.

“How do I make you feel?” He asked again, running his thumb over your lips and pressing against your clit with his thumb.

“So… good,” you breathed, overthrown by the action. “Please, I’m close-”

“Then tell me exactly how I make you feel,” he asked in a low voice.

“You’re driving me insane,” you told him, “But I bet you can see that too.”

He smiled in satisfaction, kissing you deeply as he started rubbing your clit in circles, the feeling of that and his fingers pumping in and out of you finally making you reach your climax and you moaned in the kiss as you squirmed, wearing out the high. He drew apart, examining the mess you had made on his hands and shaking his head at it before he licked them clean and then-

Then put his fingers in your mouth. “How do you like that? Do you like tasting yourself on me?”

You sucked them clean and breathed. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near done yet,” he promised and that quickly, a new wave of arousal spread through your body. You brought him down with you and shifted positions, getting on top of him and then slowing down pace-

If he had confused you, so could you. So you forgot everything and started kissing him gently, slowly, like he had. You found him motionless for a few moments, only kissing you back before he brought his hands to your waist, slowly caressing the skin as he let you kiss him for however long you liked.

You pulled at his lower lip before drawing back, kissing every place you liked- his forehead, the mole under his eye, the tip of his nose, his Adam's apple- that earned a groan and you started to grind on him, feeling his very hard bulge through his pants.

“What would you like to do tonight?” You asked him as you rode him at a steady pace. “Tell me how you want me tonight, Wooyoung. I’ll let you do anything.”

“Anything?” He asked, running his hands across your shoulders.

“Anything,” you nodded, pecking his chin. “Do you want to feel yourself inside me?”

Wooyoung shut his eyes at that, smiling like an idiot. “I didn’t think that’s how you’d approach that topic.”

“It’s about time, though,” you unbuckled his pants. “So? Want me to ride you?”

“I don’t know if we can-”

“I mean… I’m on contraceptives. I could let you… fuck me raw.”

“Oh god,” he groaned, getting up and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, drawing apart. “Can I?”

You nodded, helping him take off his pants and underwear in one motion, his hard length free now. You shifted so he could take care of it and he understood, getting on top of you and positioning himself at your entrance, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds already making you feel a rush inside yourself. You threw your head back and groaned as he entered slowly, making sure you were okay, caressing your skin as he fully entered you, experimentally moving inside you-

“Gosh, you’re so fucking tight, y/n,” he groaned with you. “This good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Let me get on top of you.”

“As you wish,” he shifted your positions and you felt fuller, grinning at the sensation. Wooyoung ran his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them as you started riding him, his eyes watching you rock against him, loving the way you bounced on top of him, your moans mingling as you found your pace. He sat up a little, putting his arms around you as if he could bring you closer, kissing you again and you couldn’t get enough of the feeling- skin on skin, nothing keeping you apart.

“I love this so much,” you breathed, your legs keeping him tucked close as you rocked slowly. “I love this so fucking much, Wooyoung.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “I’ve never felt so good, you’re…” he kissed you. “Incredible.”

You wanted to tell him more. You wanted to tell him to stop. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted to feel like this, that you wished this would never end, but you also wanted to tell him to stop saying he never felt like this, that you were incredible, because you couldn’t take it. He seemed to have understood that, though.

“What’s holding us back, y/n?” he dared ask.

“I don’t know,” you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Just… right now, just ruin me and then hold me in your arms for the rest of the night. Can you do that?”

He kissed you in answer, shifting again so he was back to being on top of you, steadily pumping in and out of you as you kissed, as he wiped the tears that left your eyes. Your kisses got sloppier as you both approached your highs, moans louder, hands wilder as they explored each other, and when you finally reached your climax together-

It was epic. There was no feeling to describe it- the feeling of his body quivering on top of you, arching against each other, his moans and yours ringing in the air, every nerve in your body reaching a euphoric high as warmth filled you- you thought you could die from pleasure, that’s how intense it was. He rocked in you unsteadily as you both finished before falling on top of you and you held him close, breathless.

There was no need for words, not anymore. You shifted so you were half on top of him when he pulled out, drawing the covers on top of you both. You drew his hair away from his face, kissing his forehead and pecking one of his eyelids before joining his forehead with yours. He caressed your face ever so lovingly, kissing you once before drawing apart and continuing to caress your cheekbone.

The two of you, in each other’s arms, watched each other, sure affirmations passed in the way you caressed each other’s skin or kissed until you fell asleep.

—-------------------------

Something seemed to have changed between the two of you ever since that night, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or worse.

Wooyoung was still, well, Wooyoung. He got worse at times with teasing you in public or making fun of you until you cursed him out loud in front of everyone, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was what you two did in private that was different.

He passed up no opportunity to get you alone and kiss you, at least, or indulge you in some dry humping. Those stolen moments, though, were nothing compared to what was going on at night time.

At first, he had been a bit distant, but then you, during one of your makeout sessions, joked about how he was so gentle that night that you wondered if someone had possessed him. You told him that you had heard a rumour that even San could be a monster in bed-

“That’s who you suggested, wasn’t it?” You recalled and Wooyoung’s gaze got hard. “I distinctly remember you telling me San would make a good suitor. Maybe I should consider-”

He obviously had no idea that you were joking and San was now with your best friend, but you wondered if it was only jealousy when he fucked you like no tomorrow, on the floor. He was rough, he was filthy, and he made you come more times in a span of an hour then you could count, making you almost cry by the end of it, but when he rocked inside of your oversensitive walls to approach your almost-there climax, he had the audacity to choke you when you came, making it more intense than it had to be as you finally cried through it.

He breathed harshly in your ear. “You’re mine. You hear me?”

“I’m yours,” you answered, squeezing his arm.

“Say it louder.”

“I’m yours,” you said with surety and he finally came inside you, collapsing beside you.

Moments like those made you wonder where you two stood. You decided to ask him if he ever called you ‘his’ again, but he didn’t. Not again. You two kissed, fucked roughly, sometimes lovingly, but he never called you his again.

And with each passing day, that made the hole in your heart bigger.

Had you started something you couldn’t handle? Did you take him easy because he was Wooyoung, the friend you loved and hated at the same time? Did you think you wouldn’t fall for him if you were mean to him?

Because you were falling for him-

No. You had fallen for him long ago. Maybe before you two ever kissed.

But it was Wooyoung. You never knew what was going through his head, so you resorted to being mean to him. If your feelings were one-sided, he would never let you live it down. Perhaps you realised that ages ago and put this wall between you as your defence mechanism. He had you wrapped around his fingers all along, yet you never noticed until it was too late-

Until you experienced what it would be like to be loved by Wooyoung- if you could call what he did ‘love’- he would find your eyes from across the room and share a smile, have your back whenever Haeun or someone else bullied you (mostly because he claimed only he was allowed to bully you), look at you with an intensity that made you fold in yourself, kissed you like he needed it, held you as if you could break, as if he never wanted to let you go, and worshipped your body as he made love to you.

You realised then, that if things stayed the same and you two parted just like this, you’d never be able to move on. You needed to let him know some way, but you also needed to find out what he felt, because it was mostly his fault for making you feel so confused. If he had simply only come to fuck you and leave, you would have understood. You would have known his only goal was to satiate his somewhat questionable desires so you’d do the same. You’d perhaps hate him more by the end of it, but since he was almost acting like he was actually your boyfriend now? He needed to be responsible for it.

Two months were nearing their end just like that. You looked up at the sky and sighed- you had chosen this spot on the roof to get some air as you sorted your thoughts out. There was another secret passageway that you accessed to get to the roof- one that Yunho told you of years ago. You had asked him a few days ago if going to the roof was still safe, which was how you found yourself here tonight, the cool breeze relaxing you as you stretched-

You heard footsteps behind you and you turned, breaking into a smile. “Think of the devil.”

“I thought you’d be here,” Yunho said, sitting beside you on the bench. “Thinking about me?”

“I was wondering when you’d come find me here,” you admitted. “It’s been a while since we caught up, right?”

“Yeah, I really don’t get time to breathe these days,” he admitted, laughing. “My idea to call everyone here was good but I didn’t know it’d be this tiring.”

“Well, let’s hope you get to be the guest next summer instead of the host,” you smiled. “It’s really fun here though. Are you enjoying it?”

“Oh, I am,” he nodded enthusiastically. “There is a lot going on here.”

“Sure is,” you scoffed, knowing he was referring to the latest news. “You were right about someone going back engaged. Just never thought it’d be San of all the people.”

“Yeah,” he whistled. “I hope their parents are as enthusiastic about this idea as they are.”

“I hope so too. I hope it’s not just something they’re feeling in… the moment. Yuju’s not the type though, and neither is San.”

“What about you? Found a suitor yet?” He wiggled his brows.

“Is that what we came here for? To find partners? You should have said in your letter ‘Matchmaking Service’ then- and what about you?”

Yunho grinned at what you said. “Me? I’m still a loner.”

“That’s what I’m asking, you idiot. Why are you still a loner? I thought she was interested in you?”

“She wasn’t serious about this. I don’t do flings,” he admitted and you felt a pang in your chest but also felt sorry for him.

“What’s her name? I’m going to kill her for breaking your heart first thing tomorrow-”

“No,” he laughed loudly. “I’m good. No hearts broken here. You, though, look like you just broke up without getting in a relationship.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head innocently.

“Come on, spill. You can’t lie to me, Yunho, you know that.”

Yunho considered for a moment. “I don’t know much. All I know is Wooyoung drunk-cried and kept calling your name.”

“Wait, Wooyoung got drunk? That’s more surprising than him crying.”

“I know,” he sighed. “You know he’s always in his senses when he’s drunk, right? He only pretends to be drunk to tease you. But this time, it was just him and me. He actually got drunk. He didn’t say anything else so I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he was a mess, y/n.”

Your heart sank as you processed what he had said. Why would Wooyoung be a mess? Was it just because he wanted to be with you because he was drunk, or…

“Are you going to tell me anything? Because I know for a fact something happened between you two before Wooyoung became a drunken mess.”

“Really? How?”

“You two are not the best actors,” he said and you pursed your lips in shame. “Maybe no one else has noticed but honestly? Not subtle at all.”

You scoffed at that. “That’s on Wooyoung. He’s shameless.”

“You look pretty lovestruck when you think he’s not watching,” Yunho said and you sighed.

“Okay, yeah. We’re… having a fling, if you can call it that-”

“Damn, not what I expected.”

“Yeah, whatever. Problem is… I may have caught feelings for him. And now I’m realising I’ve had feelings for him from way before.”

“You could have asked me, I would have confirmed it for you,” Yunho laughed. “You’ve always looked at Wooyoung differently, y/n, whether you admit it or not-”

“That’s because he’s a menace-”

“And he also treats you differently than the rest of us- or any of us, for that matter,” Yunho added and you shut up. “You’re both too hotheaded, egotistic to ever admit you could genuinely like each other. But… I think now’s a good time.”

“Well, I’m not the one who’s doing that,” you raised your hands in surrender. “And you can tell Wooyoung that he can stop being a drunken mess, man up and talk to me about it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll convey the message,” Yunho nodded. “I hope everything sorts out. It’s be weird if you two got awkward after this.”

“Yeah,” you sighed again. “It’d be strange.”

“Because,” Yunho began, “You two always looked like you could kill each other one second and make out the next. Now it’s different because you look like you could do both of those at the same time.”

You laughed at that. “I really could. I should make up my mind, huh?”

Two days later, Wooyoung was in your room, roaming around and moving everything from its place subtly to annoy you as you finished writing and signing some important documents from back home. You signed the last one and took a deep breath, arranging everything before looking at Wooyoung from where you were sitting, currently poking at the fire.

“You seem to be tired.”

“I’m not,” Wooyoung turned to you. “What makes you think so?”

“You’re not talking,” you pointed out and he gaped at you more in surprise that you could notice that.

“Not tired,” he repeated, “just thinking about some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“You know,” he tossed the poker away, “to keep myself from fucking you right on this table with all these ‘important documents’ under you. Maybe I could sign on your body too. Seal it with a stamp, eh?”

It was more Wooyoung’s dark gaze than his words that made you bite your lips and look away. “Shut up.”

“No, really,” he was smiling as he came closer. “I could do that right now too.”

It was amazing how quickly you became aroused when he said stuff like this.

One moment you were sitting, and the next?

You were on that very table where he had done something like this for the first time. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping him locked to your body as you put your arms around his neck, his hands holding your neck and angling you better as you exchanged open mouthed kisses, not caring how much sound you were making because the sound of your wet kisses made you both crazy.

“Oh god,” you moaned into his mouth. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

“You like when I do this?” He asked, kissing your neck just like he had the first time and you gasped, clenching his hair in your fist as he marked you, making you squirm underneath him. He broke apart to admire his work, smiling proudly and you slapped his arm.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

“Like what?”

“Just… shut up and kiss me,” you started unbuttoning his shirt and he obeyed, kissing you, letting you take off his shirt and run your hands all over his toned body, let you put a hand in his pants and palm his cock as your kisses got more heated and deeper, let you take off his pants which was when he broke apart to slide the dress off of you as well, laughing as you undressed in a hurry until nothing but air kept you apart.

You spread your arms and he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the space sweetly as you both rocked back and forth.

Another moment that should not have happened.

You urged him up, trailing your lips across his face and asked him to get inside you. He scoffed in amusement, “No prep?”

“I don’t need it,” you scoffed back and he shook his head when he noticed how soaked you were. He rubbed the head of his cock over your clit and wet folds a few times, making you almost break apart before sinking inside you slowly, deeply, settling and letting you both delve in the sensation. You resorted to kissing his neck in the meanwhile and he started moving inside you slowly, surely, like he had done so many times now.

You sighed in pleasure, throwing your head back and Wooyoung gently laid you on the table, surprising you when he held your legs and put them on top of his shoulders- a new position that made his cock feel way deeper inside you, the sensation of his movements also heightened. He noticed your parted mouth and he moved experimentally, making you both gasp.

“Gosh, you’re so tight. You like this?” He asked and you nodded, letting him hold your legs by the calf as he banged relentlessly into you as if challenging you to moan louder with each thrust, and you could do nothing but deliver, your climax approaching quicker than it had in any of your previous sessions.

“I’m- so close, Wooyoung, please,” you managed to say, trying to hold on to something on the table but finding nothing.

“Yeah?” He breathed. “I’m gonna make you see stars tonight, baby.”

That was a promise he fulfilled as he thrust deeper into you and you came all over him, breaking apart right there. Wooyoung chuckled deeply at the sight, pulling out of you.

“I’m not done with you, yet,” he told you and a faint smile crept on your lips as you asked him to take you to bed. He picked you up effortlessly and then you were on your bed and catching your breaths, him caressing your face as he kissed you deeply.

“Tell me something tonight, y/n,” he breathed against your ears after trailing kisses down that path. “Would you have done this with anyone else?”

“Done what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“This,” he looked at you and you tucked his hair back, tracing his jawline. “I want to know if it could have been anyone else instead of me.”

Moments like these.

“And… why would you want to know that?”

You could see that he was holding back, shrugging it off with a smile. “I just do.”

“Well,” you shifted in his arms. “No one else is such a fucking menace and no one drives me crazy like you do, so I guess… probably not?”

“Gosh, I’m gonna miss this mouth of yours so much,” Wooyoung kissed you once and caressed your face. “I have to go back soon, baby.”

“How soon?” You managed to ask.

“I don’t know yet, but I know we’re short on time,” he kissed your cheek. “I want to make the most of the time we have.”

You were pretty sure he had heard the sound of your heart break- or at least caught the look in your eyes. You nodded and he paused in the middle of caressing your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said after a moment, smiling and shifting in his arms. “Let’s just make the most of the time we have, yeah?”

He nodded though he wasn’t smiling anymore. “How do you want me tonight?”

An open invitation. You smiled sadly as you took the leap of risk.

“I want you to hug me. I want you to kiss me like there’s no tomorrow. I want you to make love to me, not fuck me like you just did. Then I want to hold you as we sleep, and wake up with you.”

Wooyoung’s heart sank. “You know, I would have done that anyway.”

“You know, you’re really bad at keeping boundaries, Wooyoung,” you started, the rage you’d been subsiding for a while now finally brimming out. “From the moment we started whatever this is… I don’t know-” you broke off and Wooyoung held your hands as an attempt to make you face him.

“Finish saying that,” he practically ordered and you glared at him.

“I just want to know where we stand, Wooyoung. Are we ending this tonight? Are we going to be just friends the next time we meet and pretend nothing happened here? Can you forget what happened here?”

“If you want me to forget, I will,” his jaw clenched though he seemed calm.

“And if I don’t?” You dared ask and he met eyes with you, a thousand words unspoken between you two. He moved to join his forehead with you and the way your heart fluttered was unlike any moment you had shared so far.

“I don’t know what to do with you, y/n. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, god,” you drew away and hid your face in your hands as you processed that. “Just tell me how you want this to end.”

“I don’t want us to break up,” his voice was low. “I… tell me what you want. I’ll be okay.”

“I’ve told you so many times,” you cried, finally looking at him, “in so many ways. I’m still afraid you’ll make fun of me if I show you what I really want.”

“God, no. I would never make fun of something like that, so tell me how you feel about me, please. I’m begging you, and I really hope we’re on the same page here, y/n, because I don’t know how I’ll move on if we aren’t.”

“You’re stupid,” you laughed between crying, making him laugh as well. “You’re a menace and you don’t let me breathe, but you’re also my best friend and you know me like no one else does. I don’t know how long I’ve loved you like this, but it’s long enough that I got so confused, and then you pulled this stunt and now we’re here and I’m a mess because if you don’t love me like I do… I don’t think I can move on.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wooyoung laughed, kissing your knuckles. “I’m only like this when I’m with you. You know that, right?”

You nodded and he continued. “You’re my oldest friend and I’ve loved you for so long now. I took such a risk pulling this stunt but when you… when you kissed me back that night? You looked like you wanted to hurt me. What could I make of that? I let you have your way with me, and I kept falling deeper in love with you. I love it when you call me yours. I love it when you tell me there’s no one else who could make you feel this way, but had I known these were your confessions of love, I would have dropped to my knees right there.”

You laughed at that. “You’re so… oh god, I can’t look at you right now,” you drew away and hid your face in the blankets but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it- he got on top of you, littering kisses everywhere on your back until you had to stop him because it tickled.

“Look at me,” his voice was deep and he crawled up to you, pinning your wrists to the side as he made you meet eyes with him. “You’re beautiful in every way- even this dirty mouth of yours,” he pecked your lips and you grinned. “You’ve always had me wrapped around your fingers, do you know that? I’m always waiting for you. I don’t know how long I’ve felt like this but I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you. I love you so much, y/n-” he kissed you deeply and you met his energy back as if you could tell him that yes- you felt exactly the same.

He let go of your wrists only to hold you to himself as he kissed you passionately, and now that your feelings were out in the open you couldn’t believe how different it felt. He craned one arm under you and held the back of your neck, the other repeatedly caressing your face as you basically devoured each other, and you made his cock slide between your folds so you could grind on him as you kissed, moaning into it and he didn’t let you breathe once. He swallowed every strangled gasp and groan that left you as he grinded back on you.

With much effort, you pulled him away only to look at him pleadingly and he understood, sliding his cock inside you and groaning loudly, peppering kisses all over your face before he hugged you.

“Gosh, I love you so much,” he tried moving but you kept your arms wrapped tightly around him, locking your legs around him.

“Please, stay like this for a moment,” you breathed, kissing his cheek. “I love this feeling. Tell me you love me again.”

“You’re going to end me,” he nuzzled your face with his nose. “I love you to death.” Your walls twitched at that and he groaned in your ears. “You like it when I tell you how much I love you?”

“Yes,” you sighed. “Oh, gosh, yes.”

“You’re mine,” he said and your walls twitched again and he couldn’t take it anymore- he thrusted inside you deep and hard, making you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. “You hear me? You’re mine to love and mine to fuck.”

“I’m all yours,” you rocked against him. “I love you. I love you so much that it’s breaking me apart.”

Wooyoung nodded, kissing you again as he increased his pace, his thrusts wild but his kisses gentle, murmuring about how much he loved this repeatedly in your ears and when he groaned in the crook of your neck as he thrusted hard, you finally came with an unexpected rush, him joining seconds later but he kept thrusting to it as if he could mark it in your walls, deep, that he was yours and you were his.

You caught your breaths as you lay in each other’s arms and you cleared your throat. “You know, if you hadn’t been such a fucking idiot, we could have figured this out way earlier and I would not have felt like shit this whole time-”

“Shh…” he pecked your nose. “I don’t regret doing it this way. It was fun, no?”

“I’m pretty sure I would have rejected you if you asked nicely,” you wondered, nodding. “So I guess I should be thankful that you’re a menace?”

“You love it,” he grinned and you smiled, watching his breathing relax and his eyes shut.

“You better be coming to see me next month in my home with a proposal ring, Wooyoung. I’m not having you any other way.”

Wooyoung opened his eyes at that. “You sure?”

“You’re still not sure?!” You groaned. “Get out of my bed, Jung Wooyoung-”

“I’m only playing,” he laughed hysterically as you tried kicking him away. “Are we always going to be like this?”

“Isn’t this who we are?” You smiled. “No point changing now, right? Besides… I quite like you when you’re being annoying as hell.”

Wooyoung got on top of you and kissed you deeply, sliding his tongue in you and though you were tired, you found yourself making out with him again. He drew back, playing with the rock of your necklace.

“I quite like this filthy mouth of yours too. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Oh my god, mom’s gonna be so happy when she learns we finally gave in to each other.”

You frowned. “Did she already know?”

“Kind of. She made me buy this necklace for you and asked me to man up and confess. I had a better idea instead-”

The gasp that left you was unreal and you grabbed the nearest object- pillow- and smacked him hard, his high pitched laugh ringing in the air.

“Jung Wooyoung, you absolute brat!”

#i love the idea of menace!woo putting you in place #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez au

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highvern · 4 months

Text

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: she/her pronouns, Drug use, alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm

Length: ~24k

Note: God this was such a doozy. I started it on December 1st and barely finished it this morning. Based on Happy Place by Emily Henry (if you like romcoms I highly recommend all her books) and most cheesy Christmas movies (Exmas). Did I project my middle child syndrome onto fellow middle child Wooyoung? Maybe! BUT why write if not to explore your own trauma lmao

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy or don’t! Merry Christmas! MWAH!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

June 27th

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?”

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before your vocal cords seize.

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door, unaware that several whip around to look at the man left sitting behind you.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December 7th

Wooyoung

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening.

The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday; paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite.” His mom laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that.

He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there.” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got her number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed.

Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with her response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm.

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!”

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but she’s right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” Y/N asks after a pregnant pause.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from her end along with a few curse words sounding far away before she continues. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“I can tell them your busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No,” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down her face, fingers massaging her temples the same way she always did when his shenanigans got them in trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so–”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for her to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between them. Eight years of dating but now she’s a stranger. The last text messages arranging for their mutual friend Lisa to pick up a box of her stuff from his apartment.

Six months and he didn’t know if she kept her hair the same way or what new book she was obsessing over in her sparse free time; if her neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one.

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door.

He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit.

Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since Y/N would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS?

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees she’s flying out of New York, not Boston. Why isn’t she flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and she wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless she had a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. She lives here, in New York. She’s been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long has she been here? Where is she working? What neighborhood is she in? Why didn’t he know she moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her.

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face.

“This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of, “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them till he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

Y/N

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, you see Hongjoong watching you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…”

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake?

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked?

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child.” He clicks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chestpiece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper.” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

Wooyoung checked his phone after finishing pick up duty, one of several over the next month as a bargain to keep his job.

She’d ignored him. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. She was a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when they’d met at some dive and realized they shared a behavioral psych class. Y/N always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew she’d been in the city.

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season.

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you wanna carpool?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You’d never been one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

December 21st

Wooyoung

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. When Wooyoung flew home for Bibi’s birthday in April, she decided to turn her inquiry towards him and Y/N.

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

Security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

“Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teachers salary. A few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

“No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face, before speaking with a perfect customer service smile. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you.” You say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does in fact exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several.

The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar.

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, please.” You answer, handing over your credit card.

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart. The second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic.

In her usual flying outfit, Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend stands twenty feet away every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. The silver carry-on she bought in the airport last time they visited his family at her side.

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

Better he sees her for the first time since their break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, she can kill him multiple times over with her eyes, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if she hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

Wonderful.

Y/N actively avoids looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for their flight. But she digs her nose into her phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is her best friend. If he wakes up to Lisa in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three. Flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as she struts down the hall without a glance back.

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when Wooyoung shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t spot Y/N amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle.

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Y/N

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. And two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks, with a loud, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” The man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you, sorry!”

Wooyoung just stares blankly. If habit and history were to repeat itself, Wooyoung carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left.

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words..

“Y/N,” he tries again.

In your periphery, you can see Wooyoung folding over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you.

“What?” You snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patient’s brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core.

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land.

The seatbelt sign chimes off, and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it.

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear, having offered to trade seats with either of you so you didn’t have to talk across him. You apologize once Wooyoung is out of earshot, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while. The stranger's name is Jay, and he laughs at the irony.

“That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.”

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you.

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least act cordial?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you.

“Fine.” You sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the buses to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know.” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work, and the nerves of seeing Wooyoung so soon after such a fresh break up.

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up.

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” She cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Smiling at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can throw it closed.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate.

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, even the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. So if you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you doze along with her son. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

Wooyoung

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing the firm body of Y/N dozing behind him. She shrugs his hand off her thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of her sweater.

“Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.” His mom announces as she opens her door.

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were two college students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snowglobe.

Another yawn before braving the inevitable blast of chilly air, Wooyoung spots Y/N in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, crowding her away from the truck as she insists on helping them carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and Y/N’s carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” Y/N calls across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as she struggles with her suitcase.

“I can see that.” His dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house to reach them.

His dad lifts her larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while Y/N balances her tote bag and his carryon. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight as they climb the staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly.

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time they shared the quilt covered bed of his childhood room. How the last trip here had been the last time Y/N slept in his arms, the last time he laid her bare beneath him. Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it happened.

Sharing the tiny mattress could only mean trouble for the delicate truce Wooyoung had made with her in the airport.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in her own suitcase, Y/N scoffs at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” Y/N says as she grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva” Wooyoung whines after her, rebuttal bouncing off the piece of wood separating them.

When Y/N returns from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. She leaves the day after Christmas and after he returns to the city he can tell his family they decided to part ways.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity.

He finds her balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space behind her for him to sink into. Neither says anything as the minutes tick by, both refusing to fall asleep despite the fatigue swirling over them attempting to find root. Back to back, Wooyoung stares at the wall as he tries not to listen to the gentle whoosh of Y/N breath.

December 22nd

Y/N

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone.

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?”

“This is fine.” You say, raising your mug.

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment with Y/N for those four years she was in medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to Y/N’s fingers brushing his hair like she always did when they’d been together, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of her short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as her heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, she’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all these months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as Y/N sits at the counter, cradling a mug of steaming coffee. If Wooyoung had to bet, the ceramic mug probably contained more sugar and milk than anything.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to Y/N nonetheless, resting his cheek on her shoulder, feeling her startle at the contact.

Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in her sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget their lying to everyone in the gentle passes of her cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

“Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.” His mom calls over her shoulder, busy with the pan heating in the flames of the stove.

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” Y/N mumbles for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met Y/N, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available. But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of the girl he had not so casually started dating fall semester of senior year, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met Y/N at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend.

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung had survived it, their older brother had survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling.

And the second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of Y/N’s overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste.

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother.” His mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” Y/N snaps, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

Y/N

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud.

You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on arm as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message.

“Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

—

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jung’s you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs.

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothings come up yet.”

“That sucks.” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable.

A light tap at the door startles you from the nose dive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood.

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed as you lean against.

“I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

“Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” You whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

“Oh?”

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess–”

But Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all.

Wooyoung

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. Perhaps he should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were completely hypothetical; but marriage had almost been a reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, and him and Y/N.

The board begins to crowd with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quips, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her.

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with Y/N before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an I and every other letter I need for QUILTING on a double word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom 96 points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with Y/N in victory. Their cheeks squish together, matching bright tipsy grins pulled across their lips. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

Y/N doesn’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made her. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of her chair while she settles into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of her head, relaxing firm pressure of her body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

December 23rd

Y/N

In the cool toned light of the snowy dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that serepate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet moan fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your panties.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong. So so so wrong. To fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your stuttered breath and pounding heart.

But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” You groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress, “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow.

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon, called by the coffee you’ve begun brewing. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family.

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom.Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows she pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard the whimper she tried to silence, felt her press her legs together the way she did when she was wet and needed his help.

Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch her to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of their charade Wooyoung needed less complications, not more.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of them together from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of his ex-girlfriend in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down her nose as she sits in his lap. And his personal favorite, Y/N on her knees, eyes watering as her swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of her throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung watches his cum sink down the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

—

As Wooyoung descends to the living room, he spots his dad and his brothers watching a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time?

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

Y/N

The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights of the nail salon. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you.

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her.

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast.

“Yeah?”

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day.” You laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

That we aren’t together. You finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things it was all for naught.

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year.

“I think being scared means you care. And you can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” You whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back, “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

—

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch.

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest.

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teething with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain but you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the packages on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner.

The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed you shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly fucked him in his childhood bed.

Three more days. You think, shivering lessening as steam billows around you.

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

Wooyoung

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of Y/N curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles her face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world she’s lost in.

Wooyoung aches to wake her up with innocent kisses as he holds her to his chest, fingers ironing out the wrinkles of her forehead as she breaches the surface of sleep. To smile at her whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. Even if it kills him not to touch her like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject her to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling Y/N into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation.

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding her shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

She responds with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over her head to hideaway.

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.”

“Youngie, it’s cold.” Y/N protests as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from her iron grip.

“I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, she blinks against the overhead light. “I’m up!”

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

Y/N mutters empty threats under her breath the entire way to the kitchen, so close she’s cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits.

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. Y/N demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year she entered the competition; Mia taking her place the next year in Y/N’s absence. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright,” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery.

But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches Y/N attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. Their half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What she doesn’t know is that those are her gumdrops and his are stashed under the table since they sat down.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” Y/N asks, confused by the horrendous green and red abomination.

“See, you get it!”

Shaking her head, Y/N points to her own monstrosity. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s “Willy Wonka.”

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard.

Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year.

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match.

Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition.

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please.” His dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is Y/N is leaving the same door he is, and that a sprig of green leaves sit just above their heads.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own.

If they were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop her into his arms and make an entire production of giving her a short peck on the cheek, his parents were watching after all, while Y/N laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into her eyes, barely missing the nod as she leaves a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the brief contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize he watches her walk away until she’s turning a corner and is out of sight.

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel.

Y/N

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! You think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

You’d spent the rest of the night sweaty and flushed, stuttering like an idiot because of a G-rated kiss with your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud.

What was wrong with you?

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable.

And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more.

The foaming residue of toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter.

His tiny room is notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

—

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed.

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss?

But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

December 24th

Wooyoung

Christmas eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night sleep on the freezing unforgiving floor can dull his excitement.

He’d risen early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space. Y/N slept soundly, back turned away from him as he evaded her successfully.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize to her. She’d basically avoided him after they got caught under the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite for her to do so. Technically, she kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth.

Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky.

His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving.

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him.

“Alright.” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

Y/N

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He looks at you for help, but you offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in.

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market.

Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. The youngest was a sweet kid; perhaps he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager after all. To hear he’s been out right rude and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

—

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants.

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep.

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college.” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

“No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing.” You chuckle.

“They just stare at me. It’s creepy.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.”

Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school.”

“Oh?”

“And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

“I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league.” Kyungmin sighs.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod, “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungo calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders.

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect.” He calls back, folding in half to step on the roof.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof.

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what. Wooyoung’s hair is a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him.

You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it.

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

You feel Wooyoung’s breath caress the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“What are you guys doing out here?” He whispers.

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky.

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while.

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. Hooking your pointer finger around his, Wooyoung sighs next to you before settling.

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Wooyoung

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look Y/N in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted her on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was her own family; how he wanted to cry when her fingers circled his own.

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between Y/N’s spread legs.

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are.

Resting his cheek against Y/N’s knee, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch her. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, Wooyoung is too weak to stop himself. And considering the way she keeps staring at him every time she thinks he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think Y/N would want him to stop either.

—

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind Y/N.

They get ready for bed in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for her to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds her in a nest on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.” She bites, voice fragile.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.”

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out her scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep next to her on the floor if she continues to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, Y/N was a menace. She’d cave eventually when her hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to her. His entire left side burns in her heat, acutely aware of every shift of her weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from their kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

When Y/N stops twitching beneath the covers behind him, breath even and shallow, Wooyoung finally follows her into sleep.

December 25th

Wooyoung

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. Wooyoung hears the first crash slide under the crack beneath his door, an ice bath to his system.

He’s still on the floor, a foot between him and Y/N.

“Get up.” Wooyoung shakes her, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

She groans in the morning light, eyes crusted as she looks for the disturbance.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall. Much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!”

Y/N tackles him into the pillows. Both attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi standing in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” His grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Dual sighs of relief leave their lips, Y/N rising to stalk to the bathroom without looking back.

Y/N

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store.

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia.

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them.” She whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right.

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly.

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the hoards of the city in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you.” She whispers, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well.

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“But I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Slipping the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, patting your back comfortingly; clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears marring your cheeks with soft swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself.

Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make Y/N so upset but his mom keeps squeezing her shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in her direction. The new necklace circling her neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask.

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines Y/N into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off her in waves next to him. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before she had to take her MCAT or open exam results. When the screen fades to black, Y/N is up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following her up, Wooyoung finds her perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between her collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his veins all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, Y/N hands him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked Y/N to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been for her. To secretly say goodbye to his family and their relationship after she was already working through it on her own. He should have known she was bottling it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” She asks, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” She bites, glazed eyes blazing as she rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” her voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. Is that what she was planning to tell him when he interrupted her?

“What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of their mess, Y/N falls back onto the bed.“It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. And Wooyoung gathers the courage to tell her the truth.

“I was planning to propose.” He can see her head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he sees her face so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead as he speaks. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything. I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that.” She objects, shaking her head. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back.”

“Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed and I ddin’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

“I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” Y/N fumes, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the stifling steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped.

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down.

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years.

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you.

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you.

As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new.

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center.

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place?

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin.

It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind through the trees. Clenching around Wooyoung harshly, the tell tale hitch in his breath signals the beginning of his end.

But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear, “forever.”

December 26th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

December 29th

Wooyoung

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think Y/N wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot they’re barely more than strangers after months of silence, how they still fit together so perfectly. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without her. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text her something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having her next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

“When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint Y/N too.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, and using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

“You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. I’ll we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy sweetie.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“Well I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.”

“Yeah well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

December 30th

Wooyoung

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. And each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?”

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking.“So what do I do?”

December 31st

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of Y/N’s full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different?

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

And the line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with Y/N’s best friend.

The vinyl table top shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration.

“She’s working at NewYork-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.”

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake him off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward.

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friend’s don’t trust him not to hurt Y/N anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t,”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before Lisa can force him.

But for now, he focuses on getting Y/N to listen to his apology.

January 1st

Y/N

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” You call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes.

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor.

You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came.

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes.

–W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed.

January 3rd

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s memorized. The NYT mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg jitters aggressively. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that she isn’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside.

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the tiny drop of hope still clinging to his heart. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine Wooyoung watches as the clock hits nine.

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been him and Y/N, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked as they trapeze through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Her hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring her face as it fogs in the cool air. But she’s here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. She’s here. She’s here and she’s looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed her and how breaking up with her was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that she’s in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing she’s ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells her how he truly feels, she’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” she pauses, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, she nods at him. “That’s a start.”

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of her. Y/N never made him feel less than. The only person in their relationship who thought he wasn’t good enough for her was him and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt.

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from Y/N’s face. Her beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Her voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug them into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get them out.

Y/N

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” You yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whisper into the delicate kiss you land on his lips.

“I love you.” Wooyoung whispers back, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees as children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the greening grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where they both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither likes to talk about. Wooyoung woke Y/N with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find, basking in the knowledge today he’d finally ask the question hanging from the tip of his tongue since this time last year.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures her face from view as Y/N rests her head in his lap. Wooyoung tries not to check his pocket for the millionth time this afternoon, ensuring the little velvet box is still there. He isn’t worried she’ll say no. But the phantom fear from the last time he planned to ask creeps up no matter how many affirmations he silently repeats in his head. But when she looks up at him, crinkled eyes visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding her smile, Wooyoung forgets all his worries.

Plucking the book from her grasp, he carefully marks her place before setting it down beside her hip. Wooyoung folds in half to silence her protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming when she gives in all too easily.

“I was reading that.” She mumbles as they separate.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, she presses another peck to his mouth before answering.“Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Y/N smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights.

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers her up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it, me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech. He drops it a third time when Y/N tackles him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from their lips and into the field where they lay.

“Yes!” She squeals into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all their friends, he subconsciously holds Y/N’s hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses her knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Once inside the doorway of her apartment, Wooyoung crowds Y/N against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on her ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of her sundress off her shoulder so his tongue etch her collarbone from dip of her throat where the locket he gave her for their first Christmas together rests to under her ear.

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” He asks, nipping against the sensitive skin she sighs, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between her parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr.Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Youngie.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at her reaction, rocking again just to hear her moan his name once more.

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” she huffs, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites, teeth raking against the strained muscle raising from the side of her neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify her question with an answer other than sprinting to the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez fluff #🫡 highvern

626 notes · View notes

yeoblurbs · 8 months

Text

Clockwork

University AU - angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Female Reader (ft. Yeonjun of TXT x Reader)

Synopsis: Being best friends with Jung Wooyoung was everything you could imagine. That is, until you catch feelings for him. Now, you navigate a heartbreak minus the rejection, and Wooyoung doesn’t seem to like it.

WC: 8.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of scars, subtle hints of disassociation in the beginning, mentions of spiraling, one harassment scene. less serious stuff —> making out, somewhat possessive!Wooyoung(not toxic), Wooyoung gets jealous:>, kind of idiots to lovers. kind of slow burn. apologies for any typos I’m afraid I can’t re read this even one more time

the hollow feeling in your chest eats at you while you lay on your couch, snuggled in a blanket clad in one of Wooyoung’s soft grey hoodies. you pull the hood up over your head and stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

would you ever find someone who loved you enough? someone who would stick by you after seeing you at your worst; someone who would kiss the scars on your body and reassure you when you got insecure. someone who would look at you with overwhelming love and whisper I love you between kisses on your skin.

you wanted it to be Wooyoung. god, you wanted him to love you like that, but Wooyoung has only ever looked at you like his best friend. and you should be thankful for that, after all, you were so incredibly lucky to be close to Wooyoung, able to receive the intense amount of love and care he has to offer.

but you can’t help but feel selfish and wish for more.

a knock on your door pulls you from your spiraling. you allow yourself to stare into nothingness for a second longer before pulling yourself together and getting up to open the door.

the winter breeze feels crisp against your bare legs. you look up to see who’s visited you so late, and there he is; dressed in baggy jeans and a black tee shirt layered with a jacket much too large for him, there was Wooyoung. your Wooyoung.

well, in your dreams anyway.

you’re once again pulled out of your spiraling when he calls out to you with that irritatingly gentle, yet teasing voice of his, “Y/n? Are you gonna let me in?” and suddenly you’re back to reality.

the cold night air brushes against your skin again, goosebumps arising in their wake; a reminder of how cold Wooyoung must be.

you roll your eyes and smile, grabbing Wooyoung's arm and pulling him in. he lets you lock the door before engulfing you in a hug. you inhale softly at the smell of his subtle cologne and wrap your arms around his back, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself the selfishness of wanting him close. but he breaks the hug a moment later, looking at you with that maddening smile and you feel yourself relax in his presence.

“So, what’re we watching?” he asks lightly, pulling your arm towards the couch as if he lives there. and he might as well, with how often he sleeps over. he removes his jacket, throwing it on the couch before sitting down. you struggle to not ogle his arms, “Nothing, actually.”

you plop down on the couch next to him, an unfamiliar distance between the two of you. you hope he won’t notice, but Wooyoung looks at you with an unreadable expression as he observes the space.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, serious eyes boring into yours.

of course, he noticed immediately, you think fondly. “I’m just tired, honestly. but let’s watch something?” you smile, trying to change the subject.

Wooyoung lets it go, but only after squinting his eyes and moving closer to you. you sigh when his shoulder touches yours, craving the skinship yet hating yourself for it.

Wooyoung decides on a random movie, and while you were distracted throughout the film, your eyes immediately snap to his phone when a notification pops up. Wooyoung picks it up, swipes to open the message, and text back.

you force yourself not to check who he’s texting and speak casually, “What is it?”

he glances up at you before looking down and shutting his phone off, “Just Miyu, she’s asking if we can see each other tomorrow.”

“Oh, are you guys a thing then?” a forced smile makes its way to your face, though you ensure it looks genuine enough for Wooyoung to not notice.

he exhales, “Honestly? Not really. I like her and I think she’s really cute, but I’m not sure I see myself in a committed relationship with her.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his two-toned hair, black strands falling over the blonde, “I’ll see how it goes though after a few dates.”

“Good luck!” you smile; a response you always gave whenever Wooyoung told you he was dating someone. because although it hurt, you wished him happiness, even if that meant he found it in someone else.

the rest of the night goes uneventful, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that something needs to change. you don’t want to do it anymore; you don’t want to sit on the sidelines and watch your best friend fall in love with someone other than you.

but Wooyoung was never going to choose you, so perhaps it was time you found someone who would.

you needed to move on, you realize. not only for yourself, but so you could continue to be close with Wooyoung even after he ultimately finds another girl; someone who isn't you. with a goal in mind, you bite your lip and click the contact of the only person you could think of; Hongjoong.

"So what, i’m supposed to just ask for his number?" you sigh, already regretting asking for his help.

Hongjoong crosses his arms, "Yes, exactly that. Men love when women ask for their numbers, something about the assertiveness or some shit like that.” he shrugs.

you squint wearily at him, “Well, you don’t sound so convinced yourself, but I don’t really have anyone else to ask,”

you groan as you watch Hongjoong’s face stretch into a smirk. “Okay, asshole, when should I do it?”

“Do it today after your last class.” Hongjoong moves closer to you and whispers, “From what I know, Yeonjun’s class ends at the same time as yours. So when he’s leaving the building, you just need to be ready to catch him.”

you pout at his instructions, unsure how you’ll manage to do something like this. Hongjoong pats your head in comfort. “Okay… thank you Joongie, I’ll try my best.”

You move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, “No need to thank me Y/nie, just let me know how it goes, and if he’s an ass to you I’ll beat him up.” he pulls back at you to wink and you push him away with a laugh. Well, what could possibly go wrong?

Everything is going wrong. you were supposed to be running out of class immediately to find Yeonjun, but someone accidentally ran into you, dumping their entire large caramel macchiato on you in the process.

and unlucky for you, you were wearing white; now you had to put off asking Yeonjun out and walk home with sticky skin and a stained shirt.

you ruffle your hands in your hair frustratedly as you exit the school building, regretting not bringing a hoodie that day. in your rushed walk towards your car, you fail to notice someone standing right in front of you.

you run straight into their chest.

“Oh my fucking-, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” you blurt out quickly, eyes filling up with tears in exhaustion as you look up to see Yeonjun.

Yeonjun.

No, No. No. this could not be happening.

you were supposed to ‘casually’ run into him with your hair neatly done and your outfit clean, but here you were with a huge stain on your chest and mascara tainting your tears.

your eyes move towards the floor as a tear falls, avoiding eye contact as you quickly wipe it away.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. nothing to apologize or get upset for,” he reassures, hands scrambling before landing on your shoulders.

he bends down to catch your eyes, “You okay? Doesn’t look like you’re having a very good day.”

and maybe it’s because you’re fed up with the events that occurred. not just the stupid sticky shirt but your stupid massive crush on your best friend that hasn’t gone away no matter how hard you try that you’re talking to the guy you were supposed to ask out to get over him and-

Yeonjun tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, staring at you in concern as you sniffle, trying to calm down and not have a total mental breakdown in front of someone you were not close with.

“Uh… I don’t exactly know what’s making you so sad, but if you need anything I’m here, even if we don’t know each other so well.” he smiles cutely, and your eyes dart to his full lips before glancing back at his eyes.

you don’t say anything, mind scattered and tired after the long day you’ve had. you wonder how you’re even functioning in this conversation with one of the hottest guys you’ve seen.

Yeonjun pouts once he realizes you are too tired to speak, before an idea comes to mind and his eyes light up. he grabs the hem of his hoodie and pulls it over his head, ruffling his hand through his hair as he hands it to you.

you don’t understand, this interaction is a lot more confusing than you initially thought it would be. but perhaps that was just your luck. your hands reach out unsure, so he pushes the hoodie in your arms firmly.

you clutch the lavender coloured fabric in your hands tightly, looking up at him in confusion. “What’s this for?”

he smiles again. you find you really like his smile. not as much as Wooyoungs though, an evil voice in your head reminds you. you frown as you ignore it.

“Well, I’m going to assume one of the things that’s got you so upset is about your shirt, so don’t worry about it, you can return the hoodie whenever you want,” he reassures kindly.

Your cheeks feel hot as you remember the humiliating stain. “Ah… I see. Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“It’s okay, honestly! Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

you bite your lip and nod, before remembering your mission to ask for his number. would it be too awkward now? would he even want to speak to you after this odd encounter? your mind races as you think of what to do next.

luckily, Yeonjun picks for you.

“I don’t really know if this is an appropriate time to ask, but could I by chance get your number?” he looks to the side, rubbing the back of his neck as a light blush coats his cheeks.

your face brightens at his question, and a soft laugh bubbles out of you at the sight of his blush.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

he opens his phone and hands it to you. your fingers shake as you type your number in, but you hand it back to him with a steady smile.

“Thanks, I should get going, but I hope the rest of your day goes well.” he winks.

your eyebrows raise at his sudden confidence, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive.

“Okay,” you smile, “Thank you for the hoodie, really it means a lot.”

he shakes his head back at you, “It was nothing, seriously. and I’ll text you later!”

you bow your head, agreeing as you watch him wave before jogging to his friends.

you clutch the hoodie in your hands tightly as you turn to walk to your car. you smile giddily,

mission accomplished.

it’s a Friday evening.

Wooyoung lays on your bed unceremoniously as he scrolls on his phone while you search your closet for an outfit to wear to the party tonight.

while normally you would’ve gone for something a little more comfortable, you decide to go for something more risky.

you did enjoy parties, but tonight you had someone’s attention to catch. someone who wasn’t the boy sitting on your bed.

“I don’t get why you’re putting so much thought into it. We go to parties all the time, what’s so different about this one?” Wooyoung nags, body laying on his side as he’s perched up on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress.

you huff, “Because! I just want to look prettier tonight, isn’t that a valid reason itself?”

Wooyoung looks at you suspiciously before sighing, “Fine, fine! I’ll find out the truth eventually y/nie,”

you roll your eyes at his tone before looking in the full-body mirror. you have a tight black skirt on paired with a matching fitted cropped shirt. underneath the skirt are sheer stockings, and you top it off with an oversized leather jacket.

your makeup and hair are already done, styled in your preferred way as you twirl in front of your mirror with a happy smile. this will surely catch Yeonjun's attention tonight, and your stomach swirls with joy at the thought.

a cough breaks you out of your stupor and you look up to find Wooyoung staring at you with wide eyes. his cheeks are tinted red as he licks his bottom lip.

“What? Does it look bad?” You look down self-consciously, unused to Wooyoung looking at you like that. you wonder if this outfit will catch more attention than you predicted.

he shakes his head and relaxes his face, “No, no. I was just surprised.”

he smirks, “You look hot.”

your lips part stupidity as you swiftly turn around to face the mirror again. “Shut up,” you mumble, ignoring the way your heart jumped at his words.

Loud music blares through your ears as you step foot into the party, eyes scanning the chaotic room for someone familiar. Wooyoung grabs your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he pulls you towards your mutual friends. you stare at your intertwined hands in awe before remembering that it meant nothing.

nothing to him at least.

your fingers slip from his grasp once you reach your friends and he looks at you in confusion. you smile reassuringly at him, however, and he turns back without noticing anything.

you bite your lip as you look around; you need to leave. not the party, but you need to leave from Wooyoung's side. you don’t belong there. you never have.

you tug at Wooyoung's arm to get his attention, prompting him to bend down as you speak into his ear, “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Okay! Just let me tell them and we can go.” he smiles dazzlingly, but you frown in response.

“No! Stay here, it’s okay! I’ll get it myself.”

the smile slowly slips from his face and his brows furrow. you look around anxiously, you don’t know why you feel so nervous. "Alright, just be careful and call me if you need anything, okay?” he grabs your arm, gazing at you seriously, and your stomach rolls at his protectiveness. you wish he wouldn’t be so perfect. but this was Wooyoung, so that was rather impossible.

you nod at him in response before leaving, letting out a breath when you were far enough.

you glance back at Wooyoung who is speaking animatedly, upset that you couldn’t enjoy yourself with him all because of your selfish feelings. you ignore the internal pull to be close and turn back around.

until you bump directly into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, what is wrong with me lately?” you murmur to yourself, rubbing your nose lightly before looking up.

“I’m so- Yeonjun?!”

the universe is not on your side it appears, as the Choi Yeonjun is in front of you looking at you with that cute boyish smile. you want to melt into a puddle of embarrassment then and there.

he chuckles at your expression, “So, is running into people always your thing? Or is that exclusive to me only?” his lips stretch into a grin.

“Seems to be exclusive to you, unfortunately,” you say teasingly, giggling at his offended look.

he puts a hand above his heart appearing wounded, “Unfortunately?! I will have you know it should be considered an honor to bump into me.”

“Considered an honor by who? Yourself?” you gloat, enjoying the flirty banter with a guy you found immensely attractive.

he clicks his tongue before giving up the facade and smiling genuinely. “I thought you said you’d text me when you got here.” he pouts at you; you have to force yourself to look away from his lips.

you and Yeonjun had been texting ever since your little run-in on campus. he knew you were coming here, hence the fact that you also put in more effort for your look today. you hadn’t exactly told Wooyoung about him either, unsure how your best friend would react to you randomly finding interest in dating.

“I just got here! I was going to text you once I got a drink, I promise.”

he nods sulkily, and you suddenly think he and Wooyoung would get along well. “Okay then, let’s go get you a drink?” he asks, grabbing your hand to lead you.

you stare at your hand in his as he leads you through the swarm of people. his is much larger than yours, warmth radiating off him so intensely you wish you could feel butterflies. but it is nothing in comparison to how you feel with your hand intertwined with Wooyoungs, and your heart dims at the realization.

the rest of the night goes by fast and enjoyable, and you find yourself enamoured with Yeonjun. but as much as you wish you liked him romantically, you find him amazing platonically at best.

you feel as though you are fighting a losing battle, and that using Yeonjun to get over Wooyoung would not only fail, but be selfish in case he caught feelings for you.

so when it gets a little too late, you make your way back to Wooyoung. Yeonjun is still next to you, and the two of you are engaging in a very serious conversation about whether or not water is wet when you feel someone grab your waist softly.

you jump at the feeling, unintentionally moving closer to Yeonjun until you turn around to find Wooyoung.

you relax at the sight of him, now gravitating to Wooyoung subconsciously, “Hi! Ready to go? I’m so tired and my head is pounding from the music.”

Wooyoung smiles at you, but it looks forced. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s this?” he tilts his head toward Yeonjun, and you blanch as you realize what kind of situation you put yourself in. but it shouldn’t go awry; the two didn’t know each other, and Wooyoung had no idea that you were interested in Yeonjun- if you could even call it that.

“This is Yeonjun, he goes to our University. He’s majoring in Dance actually, just like you!” you try unsure, glancing back to Yeonjun to assess his face.

he doesn’t look as standoffish as Wooyoung however, seeming rather amused as he eyes Wooyoung's hand on your waist.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t hog Y/n to myself all night.”

Wooyoung's hand tightens as he takes a step closer to you. you can smell the cologne on him and feel the heat coming from him on your back.

Wooyoung laughs, but it is far from genuine, “No, of course not. Y/n is her own person, she can hang out with whoever she wants, even if it’s with someone like you.”

your head whips to Wooyoung, face scandalized at his last words. you push at his chest, moving him away from Yeonjun, “Dude, not fucking cool.”

you turn back to Yeonjun, ignoring the way he is still staring at Wooyoung in mirth.

“I’m sorry, he’s had a long night and too much to drink, we should get going.” You slap your hand over Wooyoung's mouth when he moves to open it, giving a crooked smile to Yeonjun as Wooyoung fumbles beneath your hand.

Yeonjun glances at Wooyoung before his eyes land on you, “No worries, I get it. Just text me when you get home. I’ll see you on Monday?”

you nod quickly, “Yeah, of course, I’ll see you then!”

without another word, you grab Wooyoung's arm and drag him out of the house and into his car. once seated in the passenger seat, you open your hand and look at him expectantly.

he glances to your open palm, “What?”

“Keys.” you sigh, wanting this night to be over so you can lay in bed and go to sleep.

Wooyoung places the keys in your hand with a pout and you clutch them before standing up, shutting his door, and getting in the driver's seat.

“So, Yeonjun huh? Didn’t know you two were so close.” Wooyoung says, voice cutting the deafening silence. your hands tighten on the wheel as you focus on the road.

Wooyoung is still sulking, and while you have no idea why, you also have no interest in finding out. his behavior in front of Yeonjun was extremely uncalled for and disrespectful, and you would give him an earful had he not drank anything tonight. “C'mon, Y/nie, don’t ignore me. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have talked to him like that but I just... got bad vibes from him.”

you roll your eyes at his words, though some of your anger diminishes at his apology. well, at least he knew why you were upset.

“Bad vibes? Why? You’ve spoken to him for a total of two minutes.”

Wooyoung deflates. it seems he knows he is being unreasonable. “I dunno, okay? But listen, I’m allowed to be upset too. You haven’t told me anything about your relationship with Yeonjun, and I'm your best friend.”

you glance at his crestfallen face before sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry too. I should have told you about him, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“It’s okay I guess, but I’ll only forgive you on one condition.”

you narrow your eyes at him before looking back to the road, “And what would that be?”

Wooyoung grins mischievously, “You tell me all about it. When did you first meet, how did you first meet, how often do you text? And most importantly, how it went tonight with him!” he rambles excitedly, and you hate that he seems so happy at the prospect of you speaking to a guy.

and so you begin to tell Wooyoung the events leading up to the party, including the details such as your stained shirt, the hoodie, the fact that the two of you have been texting for quite a while, and why you dressed up tonight.

he nods excitedly at you as you go through the events while driving, but you fail to notice the dimness in his eyes and how his smile seems a little more strained as you go on a tangent about Yeonjun's cute lips.

you arrive home soon after, dropping Wooyoung off and parking his car before walking to your apartment. the two of you lived quite close.

once in bed, you recount the events that occurred at the party, stomach lurching when you remember Wooyoung's possessive hand on you.

but then the butterflies morph into moths, an ugly wretched feeling of yearning swallows you whole, and you find yourself spiraling at the realization that you are zero steps closer to getting over Jung Wooyoung. you have merely been going in circles from the start.

Wooyoung on the other hand, lays in bed with a permanent frown. he doesn’t understand the irritation he feels towards Yeonjun, and he certainly doesn’t understand why he felt threatened by seeing you two together. you were his best friend, and that’s all you’ve ever been to him.

but as he stares at his ceiling and pictures a life where you are not his, he wonders if you’ve meant more to him all along.

"I’m going to break things off with Yeonjun." You rest your head on your hands, elbows perched on the table in front of you.

Hongjoong sits before you, mouth open as he looks at you as if you are crazy. and perhaps you are for even thinking of letting Yeonjun go, but you were never really a selfish person, much less a selfish lover. and while you were not considered Yeonjun's lover just yet, you figure you need to pull back now before the tide takes you too far, leaving you stranded and alone drowning in your own consequences.

he exhales rather dramatically, "Are you sure? I'm going to be honest, I don't understand at all. Everything has been going so well! Why would you give up now?"

"But it hasn't been going so well Joong. I find him attractive but my feelings for Wooyoung are still very much there and alive." You take a sip of your drink, allowing the cool beverage to calm you. "I don't want to be one of those assholes who lead someone on when they aren't over their first crush or whatever."

you shake your head, "That's never going to be me."

Hongjoong nods understandingly. "Well, if you put it like that I can't really disagree."

he reaches over from across the table to pat your head comfortingly, "I'm proud of you, though. You are so selfless, it makes me worry someone will take advantage of you." You smile abashed at his praise, having always looked up to Hongjoong.

"Don't worry, I'm strong too, okay? I learned from you, after all." You smile as he scoffs teasingly.

Hongjoong glances out the window before looking back at you, "So, when are you planning on breaking the news to him? And what do you plan to do after?"

you press your lips together, "I asked him to meet me in an hour, so hopefully that goes well."

"As for after that..." you smile bitterly, "Maybe I'll confess to Wooyoung. I don't know, maybe a rejection would help me move on properly."

Honghoong tilts his head up and down, "You're a good person, y'know? It's not selfish of you to catch feelings for someone. Stuff like that is inevitable."

"And confessing your feelings wouldn't be a burden, I know what you are thinking, you deserve an answer to your feelings, whether that is an acceptance or a rejection."

you smile at Hongjoong's words, "Thank you, my unpaid therapist I so dearly love."

"Anytime." he deadpans, and you giggle as you watch his face break out into a smile.

you leave the coffee shop soon after, enjoying the breeze as you walk back to campus to meet Yeonjun. you aren't sure how your talk will go, but you know you need to get everything off of your chest, including the guilt of leading Yeonjun on.

"Y/n!" a voice calls out from behind you, and you turn to see Yeonjun waving at you. He jogs up to you, smiling once he is close, "Hey! How are you doing?"

you grin softly at him, "I'm doing okay, how about you?"

he runs a hand through his hair, and you are once again reminded of his strikingly amazing looks. you hope he finds someone to appreciate him as he deserves. "I'm alright, but I'm guessing you have something to speak to me about after that ominous text."

"Yeah... you're right." you glance up at him before looking back in front of you. "Lets walk and I'll tell you?"

"Of course, start whenever you're ready."

you exhale shakily, "So, there is no easy way to say this, but for as long as I've known Wooyoung, I have had feelings for him," You bite your lip, ripping the bandaid off immediately. "Maybe it was something about the way he treated me, or the way he treated everyone else. He was just so full of love and I was immediately smitten."

you look up into Yeonjun's eyes, "It's been three years, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get over him." You move to stand directly in front of Yeonjun. "I owe you a massive apology. I am so incredibly sorry for showing interest in you despite having feelings for someone else. It wasn't right for me to practically use you, not when you have been so good to me from the beginning."

you finish your apology with a deep bow, only rising when Yeonjun scrambles to make you stand straight.

"Well, I can't say I'm totally surprised. I did see how he looked at you at the party, but I do appreciate the apology." he smiles, not seeming resentful in the slightest. you wonder if he was an angel in his past life.

but you're also confused, "What do you mean how he looked at me? It's unrequited, he only sees me as his best friend." Your mind races as you try to imagine what Yeonjun could possibly mean, but you try not to get your hopes up.

he tilts his head, "I just mean he looked really jealous, but I guess you didn't notice." You look at Yeonjun with furrowed brows, before pushing the thought out entirely. you could overthink this later, when you weren't in the presence of the sweet guy in front of you.

"Anyway! I just wanted to talk to you about that. I really am sorry, and I hope we can be friends even if I was a selfish asshole."

Yeonjun shakes his head seriously, "You are not a selfish asshole for trying to get over him. You telling me all of this now proves that you are much kinder than you give yourself credit for."

"And of course we're friends! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still not one hundred percent over my ex, so I hope that will ease your conscience." he pats your shoulder reassuringly.

you raise your eyebrows at his confession. "Thank you, seriously." You move to hug him and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him firmly.

what you don't notice, is your best friend staring at you a few feet away, your favorite donut in one hand and his iced americano in the other.

he eyes Yeonjun's arms wrapped around you, wanting nothing more than to pull him off and surround you with himself instead. you deserved someone better than Yeonjun. you deserved someone who would make you breakfast when you slept in; someone who would bring you hot cocoa between classes during harsh winters, and someone who would shower you with more love than you could possibly imagine.

he could do that for you; he could be that person for you.

Wooyoung's chest feels lighter when he realizes what this means, but his brows furrow as he watches you break apart from Yeonjun, looking up at him with a sweet smile. he pouts, glancing at the donut in his hand as he turns away, a new goal in mind.

he is going to pursue you. not Miyu, whom he hadn't had an interest in quite some time, nor Yujin, the girl from his class who wouldn't leave him alone. he doesn't know why he's been searching so hard for something- or someone who was right there all along.

but he has time to make up for it, and he certainly will.

The next time you see Wooyoung is during your break between classes. you are sitting at a bench outside, headphones on as you whisper the lyrics to 'Dust' by Seventeen.

you shriek when you feel a cold sensation on the back of your neck, pulling your headphones off as you hear that familiar cackle behind you. you glare at Wooyoung as he wipes tears from his eyes, finding you very amusing.

"I'm glad that was so funny to you," you say snarkily, but all Wooyoung does is beam at you in response. "You're not going to thank me? I drove all the way to the store to grab it."

you glance down at the cold drink in front of you, seeing your ultimate favorite beverage from a store all the way across town. you look up to Wooyoung with an excited smile, "Oh shit! Thank you, you really shouldn't have."

Wooyoung shrugs your comment off with a wave of his hand, but his cheeks burn pleasantly. he takes a seat next to you, nuzzling your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist and you freeze. you haven't been this close to Wooyoung in weeks, courtesy of the distance you implemented in order to get over him.

"I miss you," he whispers, and you relax instantly. the last thing you wanted was for Wooyoung to feel neglected in your friendship, so you accept his hug without a care for your initial goal.

you pat his head, running your hands through his hair as you notice it has gotten quite long. he melts underneath your touch, and you smile fondly. "You okay?" you ask.

Wooyoung lifts his head, facing you. the two of you are inches apart, and your heart races at the close proximity. you can see his precious dot, as he likes to call it; your eyes trace his nose bridge as your gaze falls to his lips, eyeing the beauty mark on his bottom lip.

he bites his lower lip, and you glance back up to his eyes, noticing his gaze stuck on your lips as well. you wonder what he’s thinking.

you swiftly turn to your laptop, "So, how was class?" Your cheeks feel hot, and your chest burns. you were about two seconds away from saying fuck it and kissing him.

Wooyoung sighs, "It was okay I guess. Nothing interesting, I'd rather be with you."

your stomach lurches at his words, but you turn to him puzzled. "Isn't Miyu in your last class? What happened?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I've just realized there are more important things for me to focus on. More important people to focus on."

you stare at his unusual seriousness, "Ah... I see."

he suddenly smiles brightly, "Plus, I'd rather be around my Y/nie than any other girl!" he moves to hug you again, and you stare bitterly at the drink in front of you.

you would never get over him. it was like clockwork.

"Okay, let's go?" you ask Wooyoung, who is once again perched up on your bed as you exit your bathroom, spraying your perfume and eyeing the black bodycon dress that hugged your body flatteringly.

when you look up Wooyoung is standing with his arms crossed, mouth pursed in a pout. you raise your eyebrows at him, "What?"

he falls backward on your bed, facing the ceiling. "How is it possible to look that beautiful. I'll never know."

your heart jumps like it always does when he compliments you, though you giggle as you wave him off, "C'mon, Youngie, we’ll be late."

the two of you arrive at the club less than thirty minutes later, and Wooyoung laces his fingers with yours the moment you step in. you glance down, stomach swirling at the sight of the rings adorning his hands and prominent veins leading up his arms. you bite your lip and look up; you could not get distracted by his arms so early into the night.

"Wooyoung! Y/n! It's so good to see you." the tall bartender greets.

you smile up at him, "It's good to see you too, Mingi. I hope you're doing well,"

Mingi nods, "I am, and I'm doing even better after seeing you two. It's nice to see some familiar faces in this place."

"When you finish your shift you should come with us! We miss you, Mangi, it's been too long." Wooyoung whines from his place beside you. you roll your eyes at his antics, but you would be lying if you said you didn't miss Mingi too.

Mingi laughs, smiling at the two of you. "So, the usual?"

"Yup! Please and thank you." You grin cheekily. Mingi winks before leaving to get your drinks.

Wooyoung turns to you, "The others should be here any second now, I'm honestly shocked we got here first." You lean your head on Wooyoung's shoulder, unable to hear his breath hitch due to the loud music, "I'm not really surprised, we've always been punctual people."

you lift your head and smile at him, faces close as you wink, "That's why we get along so well."

Wooyoung gulps at your closeness as he smiles nervously, "Yeah, I really hate people who are late." You giggle and nod, understanding him completely.

a large figure runs into Wooyoung from behind as their arms wrap around him, and you laugh as you watch San smile at you from his place on Wooyoung's shoulder, "Hi, Y/nie! Youngie! I've missed you guys so much, it's been like, forever!"

"It's actually been three days, but I gather that's too long for you two." you tease, and Wooyoung pouts at you as he turns around to hug San properly.

San moves to hug you next, "Yeosang and Hongjoong are using the bathroom, those two losers drank too much water or something." San looks disgusted as Wooyoung giggles.

"TMI Sannie, TMI," you say stifling a laugh. San was very close to Wooyoung, and very similar to Wooyoung. those two were the cutest platonic soulmates you've seen, and it has always been fun when they were together.

"What did you tell them, San-ah?" a deep voice deadpans from behind you. you turn to see Yeosang and Hongjoong, squinting at San as he hides behind Wooyoung.

you jump out of your seat, "Sangie!" you run into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "I missed you so much, you barely come to these events anymore." You pout up at him as he smiles, "Sorry, Y/n, I've been a little busy, but I promise I'll try to come as often as I can."

Hongjoong stands to the side, "The fuck am I? Chopped liver?"

you break away from Yeosang and giggle as you move to hug Hongjoong as well, "Hi, Joongie. I missed you as well, even if I saw you two days ago."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Hongjoong says dismissively, though the smile on his face tells a different story.

the four of you move to a booth, ordering another round of drinks along with some food. the night is fun, filled with laughter and jokes as you watch Wooyoung and Hongjoong bicker like children. you are almost finished your meal when you spot a familiar head through the crowd.

"I'll be right back, I want to go say hi to someone," you tell them, taking a sip of your drink before sliding out of the booth as you stare at your target.

Wooyoung eyes you from his seat, ignoring the looks of mirth he gets from his friends. you look amazing tonight, just as you do every night, and it's been hard for him to not want to keep his arms wrapped around you the whole time. not because of others staring, but because of how irresistible you look. he wonders who you have left to speak to, but once he gets a glimpse of their face, he scowls.

Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun! Hi!" you greet, smiling toothily at the tall man.

he looks shocked for a moment before his face relaxes at the sight of you, "Hey, Y/n, how's it going?" he moves to hug you, arms covering your torso as you stretch to hug his neck. you feel as though someone is staring at you from behind, but shrug it off as you look back to Yeonjun.

"It's good! Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Wooyoung are over there." You point back to them, and Yeonjun glances at the table, coughing when he sees Wooyoung glaring at him.

"Oh, that's cool. I came with Beomgyu, and HueningKai. They're over there getting shitfaced as we speak."

you look behind him and find the two of them dancing sloppy and chuckle at the sight. "And let me guess, you are the responsible parent for the night?"

Yeonjun sighs, "Unfortunately. Without me, these idiots wouldn't end up home most nights."

you nod at him, amused.

"So, how's everything with Mr. Loverboy?" Yeonjun asks, tilting his head toward Wooyoung. you glance back and catch Wooyoung's eye; he smiles charmingly, and you grin back before facing Yeonjun, and your face drops. "I actually have no idea. Sometimes it feels like we're having a moment, but then he treats me like normal, so I'm not really sure."

you exhale, "If there's one thing I know, though, it's that he isn't interested in any girl right now. He told me he has more important things and people to focus on or something like that."

you smile sadly, "I wonder if it's too naive to think it's me."

Yeonjun scoffs loudly, and you look up to him startled. "Listen, if I wasn't sure before, I am sure now. Wooyoung most definitely feels the same way about you." he leans down to your ear, feeling only slightly scared as Wooyoung glowers at him from across the room. "Not only was he incredibly jealous the first time I met him, but he has been shooting daggers at me since you approached me."

Yeonjun lifts his head and smiles encouragingly, "I'm sure all he needs is a little push, and he'll confess. Don't give up yet, Y/n. He's almost there, I can tell."

you look at Yeonjun, not very convinced though not as dejected as before. "Okay, yeah. I should get back."

You glance at his friends, "Good luck with those two, let me know if I can help." You smile, giggling when Yeonjun sighs dramatically at the sight of them.

"Don't worry, I can handle them. You should focus on the jealous boy who's waiting for you across the room." Yeonjun waves before giving you a little push towards Wooyoung, "Please, go before he rips my head off."

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, smiling as you wave and make your way back to your friends and Wooyoung. you attempt to swiftly pass the people dancing, but you get caught up in the crowd, losing sight of the table and struggling to get out.

when a hand grabs at your wrist, you flinch, moving back as you cradle your arm against you protectively. "Hey, sweetness," a gruff voice comes and you glance up to see an older man with missing teeth.

Just what you needed.

your hands shake as you attempt to move past him, "Sorry, not interested." but he grabs your arm again and you rip it out of his grasp for the second time.

"I said I'm not interested."

he laughs, and you can smell his rancid breath from where you stand. "You don't mean that, c'mon, why else would you be wearing that?" Your face drops at his comment, and your mind races as you wonder if you'll be able to run fast enough to lose him. you glance at the dancing bodies surrounding you, realizing that was highly unlikely.

but before you can panic any longer, a familiar scent fills your senses as you are pulled into someone's chest. you flinch again, still jittery, but when you see Wooyoung you relax immediately.

Wooyoung curls an arm around your waist and you sink into his embrace, "She said she’s not interested, you fucking loser." he glowers, face devoid of the usual joy it contains, as his eyes are hardened with protectiveness.

“Well, maybe she shouldn't be wearing that outfit if she didn't want the attention!" the man yells, causing people to look your way as a circle forms surrounding the three of you. you tug at Wooyoungs arm when you see his nose flare in anger not wanting things to get physical, "Wooyoung, fuck this idiot, don't bother with him," you glance up at the man before you,

"He has enough problems, like the fact that he wakes up every day looking like that." You sneer.

Wooyoung grins, "Good point."

the man opens his mouth in fury, but he gets interrupted, "Is there a problem here?" Two security guards approach and the man pales. you interject before he can speak, "Yes, actually. This guy grabbed me twice when I said I wasn't interested."

the man flails uselessly as the two men escort him out, cursing at them in rage. a rather anticlimactic ending to such a panic-inducing situation, but you gratefully accept it. you exhale once they are out of sight, relaxing onto Wooyoung as he wraps both of his arms around your waist. you feel exhausted, though Wooyoung feels comforting around you, and you do not wish to move.

"Y/nie, let's go home?" he whispers in your ear, and you nod slowly before turning around and burying your face in his neck. Wooyoung, your Wooyoungie. you feel tears spring to your eyes, because the truth is he wasn't yours.

perfect, protective, kind, thoughtful, and sweet Wooyoung was not yours, and you find that thought a little harder to digest right now. Wooyoung feels something wet on his neck as he looks down at you worriedly, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

you don't respond, clutching him harder as he curses before maneuvering you outside.

the cooler night air feels refreshing as it greets you, and you sniffle once the door closes and you are alone with Wooyoung. "What's wrong, Y/nie? Talk to me, pretty."

another tear streams down your face at the term of endearment as you push him away frustrated. "Don't call me that!"

Wooyoung's face drops, "Don't call you pretty?" he looks at you helplessly, "I-I'm sorry, but I don't- Are you upset about what just happened? Because why does it seem like you're upset with me?"

you wipe your tears, annoyed with your shaky hands and legs that felt much too like jello. "I am upset! I'm scared because that was a really scary situation to be in, but more importantly, I'm upset with you!"

Wooyoung looks heartbroken, his hand reaching out to you before falling to his side.

"It's not fucking fair, okay? You don't get to buy me sweet drinks and get possessive when I flirt with someone, and then glare daggers into guys I'm just friends with and protect me from creepy ugly men without me catching feelings for you!" you cry out, breathing heavily as you continue.

"I'm so tired of the shitty butterflies I get when I see you, or the sadness I feel when you look at every girl but me, and most of all I'm sick of your stupid pretty lips that look way too pretty to be real and- now I'm rambling about your lips being pretty-"

he grabs your cheeks gently, pushing his lips onto yours and your brain short circuits. your hands lift unsure, before finding purchase on Wooyoung's broad shoulders as you part your mouth, a small noise leaving your throat when he bites your bottom lip gently.

he pulls back first, and you swallow the whine you want to let out. "I have feelings for you too, Y/n. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out, but I'm here now." he smiles unsure, "And uh, if it's okay with you, I'd like to take you out on a date sometime. Or something like that." he says shyly.

you smile at his red cheeks before cupping his face and pulling him down into another kiss, this time taking your time as you slip your tongue in and tug gently on his bottom lip back with your teeth, before parting and giggling at his furious blush.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." You kiss his nose and smile before grabbing his hand and leading him back to the car. "And you're coming home with me tonight! I deserve cuddles," you demand as Wooyoung stares at you dopily from behind.

you would get all the cuddles you wanted, and more. Wooyoung would give the world to you if you asked, because that was exactly what you deserved.

Extra:

“C’mon, Junnie. Don’t be scared. I just want to introduce you two since you both mean so much to me,” you whine at Yeonjun, pulling his arm as he shakes his head back and forth.

he whines back at you, “Why would you subject me to this knowing how Wooyoung feels about me? You are cruel, Y/n. Very cruel."

you roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior, “This is exactly what I mean when I say your extra ass will get along with Wooyoung. You two act so similar it’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Yeah, except I don’t glare at people when I feel jealous.” he crosses his arms, staring at the ‘Welcome’ sign in front of the cafe Wooyoung was waiting for you two at.

you push him closer to the door, “Please, Junnie? It would really mean a lot to me,” you beg softly, knowing Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to handle your sad eyes.

he sighs, head falling down before he looks back up, “Fine, fine. Just stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

you cheer with your arms up, smiling happily as you drag him inside.

“Wooyo!” you call, watching Wooyoung look up with a cute smile. you let go of Yeonjun's arm as you take quick steps toward your boyfriend, “I know you two know each other already, but this is time for re-introductions.” you state seriously, grabbing Wooyoung's hand softly.

he stares at you sulking, but listens obediently. “Wooyoung, this is Yeonjun, one of my close friends. Yeonjun, this is Wooyoung, my boyfriend! I hope you guys can get along well.”

the two of them wave half-heartedly, mumbling ‘hellos’ but you figure that’s good enough for now. “Okay, I’ll go grab the food then,”

you ignore the way both of them turn to you with wide eyes, smirking as you approach the front and leave them alone with one another.

Wooyoung glares at Yeonjun as he avoids eye contact, finding the stain on the table much more interesting. “So. Yeonjun, I’ll be frank, do you like Y/n?”

Yeonjun's eyes snap to Wooyoung's serious ones as he sighs, “No, I only like her as a friend, I promise.” Wooyoung sits back unconvinced as he crosses his arms. Yeonjun figures he should come clean and explain himself properly, for your sake at the very least.

“I understand why you would be skeptical, especially since we did flirt before, but neither of us actually felt anything for each other from the start. We may have tried, but Y/n was way too in love with you to even bother looking at me, and I was still getting over a breakup so I never really looked at her like that.” he bites his lip, glancing at Wooyoungs face for a reaction and is in shock when he sees Wooyoung... blushing.

“She’s… in love with me?” he smiles elated, and Yeonjun wonders if he spoke too much. “Well, yeah? I thought… oh fuck.” he rubs his hands on his face; he was just fucking up one thing after the other.

he places his hands on the table as he watches you pick up the food making your way back to the table, “Okay, please keep this conversation to yourself otherwise I will never see the light of day again.”

Wooyoung giggles, “Mmhm, no worries!” he looks the happiest Yeonjun has ever seen him, and he sighs as he figures Wooyoung wouldn’t out him immediately at least.

you place the tray of food on the table, “What’s got you so happy, Woo?” you ask, smiling at his very obvious joy.

“Nothing, nothing,” he winks at Yeonjun, and he has to stop himself from face palming.

you glance at Yeonjun amused, “Okay, you guys can keep your secrets, don’t mind me.”

the rest of the lunch goes by shockingly pleasant, as Wooyoung and Yeonjun get along just like you knew they would. by the time the three of you are leaving the cafe, Yeonjun and Wooyoung have their arms intertwined as Wooyoung tells Yeonjun about the time he free styled for his dance exam after someone stole his choreography, Yeonjun listening intently as his mouth parts in awe.

you giggle as you watch them from behind. sure, Yeonjun might be your new rival for Wooyoung’s attention, but so long as Wooyoung was happy, you didn’t mind. the grin on your face only grows when you watch them hug goodbye.

this was your true happy ending.

unofficial tags: @scuzmunkie

#ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x you #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x y/n

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bvidzsoo · 5 months

Text

Heavy is the head that wears the crown

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of human trafficking

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

Word count: 24,9k

Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Buckle up my friends, this one is a longer one; but it became my absolute favorite one lol. This oneshot now definitely has a special place in my heart. Next part won't be up too soon as I'm busy with things, I hope y'all can understand, I can't wait to write my pookie Mingi's part lol. I hope you'll find it as funny as I do and don't shy away, leave feedback! Enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni @sharksandminhos @mountiiny

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The life of a princess was lavishing and comfortable. The people around you always had everything you needed and would deliver it to you before you could even ask for it. It was as if they could read your mind, anticipate your thoughts and actions. Princesses were supposed to be beautiful and humble, respectful, with a smile always on their faces. They were supposed to hide their mouths when they laughed, never too loudly, of course, and they weren’t supposed to keep eye contact for too long with a man. Princesses were supposed to be well mannered and studious, and able to hold a conversation about any topic. Princesses were supposed to speak softly and slowly so that everyone could understand them, yet they shouldn’t speak up first, unasked. Princesses were supposed to hold their chins up high and stand with their backs straight, almost gliding when they walked, never allowed to run. Or to skip their beauty sleep, meaning they always had to go to bed early. Of course, they weren’t allowed to be seen with any man, other than their betrothed, and they weren’t allowed to sneak around. Princesses weren’t allowed to talk back to their parents and they had to accept whatever future they built for them. Princesses couldn’t say no to ruling if they were next in line to the throne and they also weren’t allowed to choose their own lovers. Not when they were supposed to marry the prince in the neighboring kingdom who was the same age as them, their marriage unifying two powerful forces: The Sun Rise Kingdom and The South Kingdom. But what was a princess supposed to do if their betrothed disappeared one day without a trace? If he got kidnapped by pirates and then never returned to his parents? To his Kingdom? To fulfill his duties as a monarch and man? What was a princess supposed to do then? I still haven’t figured out that part yet, but for once, I decided to take the reins in my owns hands and write my own future. If my betrothed could disappear off the surface of Earth, then I could do it too. And that is exactly what I did when I turned twenty. I waited for my mother to fall asleep and then quickly packed everything I deemed precious and important for my journey into a briefcase, then dressed in my maid’s clothes and made sure to conceal my face. I had to be swift with my escape and if anyone recognized me, I knew my mother would never let me out of her sight. I wanted to live a free life, to see what I would become if I was stripped of my title. Would I still live comfortably? Would people be finally genuine with me? And not pretend to like me for the sake of a title I inherited by being born into the royal Oh family? I wanted to see if I could fend for myself. But most importantly, I wanted to get away from my mother’s scrutinizing glares and sharp words reminding me daily of who I was. Princess Oh Y/N, next in line to the throne, still waiting for her betrothed to return. At some point I had given up on the fantasy of ever seeing him again. But my mother, however, vehemently believed that my prince would return soon and fix all of his wrongdoings. To be fair, I only remembered his family name at this point, Jung, and barely the shape of his eyes and their color back when he was eleven. We’ve met once in our lives, when we were eleven, and then never again. Because three days later, he was gone. Apparently captured and taken by pirates. Many believed he was dead, many believed he joined those pirates willingly. His family shut down those silly rumors quickly and reassured my mother that he would return and then we’d finally get married.

But I didn’t want to wait for him anymore. It was useless. I didn’t even love him or want him. I didn’t want a total stranger as my King. And as I ran as far away from the castle, heart thumping wildly and feet aching from such strenuous activity for my sheltered body, I realized I didn’t even want to become a Queen anymore. Why would I even want that? To become like my mother? Rigid and vengeful, always having to watch my steps because someone was out for my head? Her own husband tried to kill my mother, my own father, did I truly want that life? For my King to abandon me and wish harm upon me? I did not regret escaping the safety of my castle, of my nation, of my Kingdom. The sailor ship I snuck on was nasty and dirty, filled with drunken sailors as they screamed their lungs out, too wrapped up in their songs to notice a woman struggling to pull her briefcase over the railing. They either didn’t care, or I just hid too well, because they never even bothered looking for me the following days. They never came towards the supply room I was hiding in, and if they did, they quickly grabbed the rum off the shelves and then left the room, whistling loudly. I counted the days, somewhere around five, by the time we decked down. I had no idea where I was as I made a run for it, knocking a few sailors off their feet as I got off the ship, panting and struggling to carry my briefcase. Their shouts were loud but they never bothered chasing after me. I had no idea in which Kingdom I was in, perhaps it was still the Sun Rise, just a smaller island of it. I hoped that wasn’t the case, because I would be back home in no time if anyone recognized me. But in the three years I’ve been living on my own, my identity remained a secret to the people around me, nobody ever recognized me or suspected me of being royalty. Perhaps it was because I lived on one of the Nordic island’s from the South Kingdom, perhaps it was because people never looked for too long at you. They rarely questioned your origins or your life story. Here, everyone seemed to be busy with their own lives and problems. People also weren’t as nice and friendly as back home, but I found it refreshing. For once in my life, I felt like I was truly invisible, left alone and unbothered. Nobody pried for something which didn’t concern them and nobody forced their kindness on you, expecting you to return it one day. If someone here did something for you, it was because they wanted to and not because they secretly wished for you to do the same for them.

I found it easier to live here, the town I settled down in was well off and progressive. Women here were allowed to do as they wished, and so, they opened an institute for the younglings, where governesses would teach them everything they had to know about our world. Girls and boys alike were welcomed, poor and rich, their differences placed aside. The institute is where I found myself working, as a smaller governess, someone who taught the children etiquette. It was a sudden thought I had one night, as I was wondering how I would earn my own money since the one I brought with myself from the castle wouldn’t last me forever, and I realized that for once in my life I could use all of those years of living as a princess to my advantage. Everyone loved well-mannered, well-spoken and studious people, I found myself perfect to do such a job. So, the next day I walked to the institute and proposed to teach said subject and everyone was thrilled by the idea. I didn’t demand for a high pay, the cottage I was living in was fairly cheap when I bought it, and food here seemed to be a lot more accessible than back at my own kingdom. The only pricey items were my canvas, brushes, and colors. I loved to paint and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. Whenever I had free time, which I had lots at the castle, I would sit in the gardens and paint whatever I felt inspired by. Here, in the town, I had less free time, but I managed to balance my attention onto everything. The young mothers seemed to adore me and often brought cookies and delicious meals for me at the institute as a show of gratitude for the work I put in with their children, I often found myself not having to cook anything at home. Living here for the past three years has truly been liberating, however, I couldn’t deny it, I did find myself missing the posh lifestyle from time to time. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and unconsciously reach for the bell to ring for my maids to come open the curtains and window for me. Or sometimes I would find myself sitting at my stand, painting, and if I forgot something I needed, I would scream the name of my most trusted maid, only to realize she wouldn’t be coming around. There were evenings when I was so tired I wanted someone to warm up the water in the bathtub for me and cook me a chicken noodle soup, but unfortunately, I now had to do all that by myself. I couldn’t complain, unless my body was aching from having a strenuous day, which happened less often lately. It was a comforting thought. It means that I was finally becoming familiar with the chosen lifestyle.

I had just finished up my lessons at the institution and after locking up, I walked to the market to see if I could buy some vegetables. It was late in the evening, but some vendors stayed out until the sun was setting. My favorite vendor was still there by the time I walked through the square and I quickly approached her, greeting her with a warm smile.

“Oh, dear,” She smiled back brightly, her hair a light gray color, “I had a feeling you would come by today, I waited for you.”

“You shouldn’t have, Mrs. Chwe.” I picked up two carrots and three potatoes, placing them in my handbag once Mrs. Chwe saw them, “Let me walk you back home, then. The sun will be soon gone, you shouldn’t walk alone.”

“Do not worry about me, dear.” Mrs. Chwe chuckled and handed me two tomatoes with a wink, “I know my way around here better than you do. Nobody casts a second glance at an old dame, unlike you—a beautiful young lady. You better head back quickly.”

I chuckled and grabbed ten pennies from my pouch, “I insist, Mrs. Chwe.”

“And I insist too.” She was a stubborn old lady, “You had a long day, I heard you stayed at the institute all day long. The headmistress stopped by not long ago.”

“Of course,” I chuckled and handed Mrs. Chwe the pennies. The headmistress loved to gossip and talk nonsense, it didn’t surprise me she was quick to let everyone know of my packed day. She was a lady I didn’t quite like, “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you pack up at least?”

“No, no.” Mrs. Chwe shook her head and ushered me away with her hand, “Go home and cook something tasty.”

“Alright, have a good night, Mrs. Chwe!” I bowed with a polite smile and the old lady waved briefly before she turned around with a sigh and started packing away the remained vegetables. I turned around and walked the way I have come, until the main road came to an end and I turned to the left, walking down the deserted street. People were getting inside their houses and getting ready for the evening, the squeals and laughter of little children in the gardens the only sounds besides my footsteps. I sighed and stared up at the sky for a brief moment, taking in the tranquility of the evening. I liked it when nobody was around after a long day. It allowed me time to shake off the stress and plan what I had to do the next day. I turned to the right, walking down a dirt path, small cottages on both sides. A few of my neighbors were out in the gardens or standing in their doorway, conversing with each other. My little cottage was second to last on our street and I walked up to the short stone covered path which lead to the back of the house, greeting my neighbor in the process as he was sipping his tea, holding a book to his face. The entrance was at the back of the house, and I didn’t mind. It was actually what convinced me to buy it. I liked the intimacy it offered. No one could see when I came and went, I knew a few mothers on our street liked to monitor everyone’s steps. I placed the handbag on the ground and reached for the key in my pouch, feeling around for it until I found it. As I pushed the key into the keyhole, I realized my door was unlocked. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared down at my hand, wondering whether I have locked it this morning or not. Did I not lock it? How could I forget such important thing? I scoffed and gently pushed the door open, grabbing the handbag off the ground and stepping inside. Dusk settled upon and it wasn’t bright anymore outside, or in the house, but you could still see well without a light source. As I closed the door behind me and looked ahead, I froze. There, an unknown man, was standing across from me in the room. His back was turned to me and his hands were behind his back as he seemed to be staring up at the wall. At my paintings. I stopped breathing, fearing that he could hear me. He probably heard me enter, yet he hasn’t moved. I carefully placed the handbag on the ground as I kept my eyes on the man, slowly and silently reaching for the vase standing on a stand to the left of the door. It was heavy and old, I brought it with myself from the castle. It was my great-grandmothers. It could also serve as a weapon if necessary. I took in the attire of the man and realized he wasn’t a lieutenant or soldier from the Navy, so he couldn’t have been sent by my mother. But then…who was he? His black cotton pants looked loose around his frame and I could see a white collar peeking out from underneath the heavy coat he was wearing. The jacket looked odd, old and patched up in multiple places, different fabrics stitched to the original one. I didn’t dare assume who this man was, but he looked like he wasn’t exactly a good guy. The second he hummed I knew I had to proceed, so I threw the vase towards him, aiming for his head, but before it could touch him, he jumped away. The vase crashed into the wall and shattered into million pieces, making me frown at the destroyed relic. My mother would kill me right now if she were here with me. The unknown man sharply whirled around, his face morphed into shock as he gasped loudly, dramatically.

“That could’ve been my head!” The man’s voice was squeaky as he pointed at the wall, which the vase initially hit. My eyebrows furrowed at the man’s words and I scoffed, eyes falling onto the pillows I had on the sofa. I didn’t dwell much on the thought just jumped on the couch and grabbed two bigger pillows as I hauled them in his direction. The man screeched as one hit him in the stomach and he suddenly took off towards me, face red.

“Stop right there!” I commanded, heart thumping wildly as I held another pillow out threateningly. The man suddenly froze and he eyed the pillow with narrowed eyes, scoffing when he looked back at me. His face was chiseled and sun-kissed, his jawline sharp. His full lips were cherry colored and his nose big and fitting for his face shape. His eyes weren’t too sharp and held friendliness in them despite the situation we found ourselves in, a mole stood proudly underneath his left eye.

“So, will you throw that one too?” He raised an eyebrow, taunting. His voice was smooth, sounded nothing like the screech he let out mere minutes ago. I gulped and glanced at the pillow I was holding before looking back at the stranger, a handsome one. Without saying anything I threw the pillow at him and he caught it easily, lips pulling up in a lopsided smirk. I quickly took the other two pillows, the last ones, and stood up, staring him down. He dropped the pillow and raised both hands in a motion of peace, but that moved his long coat, the handle of a sword glinting. I gulped before I looked back into his eyes.

“You don’t have to be so aggressive; I didn’t even do anything.” The man said with a tentative smile and my eyebrows furrowed.

“You broke into my home!” I answered incredulously and suddenly realized how smart it was to have soldiers littered around your castle. There was someone who’d be able to protect you from intruders, yet here I was, forced to defend myself on my own. I had to run away while I still could. I had no idea who this man was and what he wanted from me.

“Not my smoothest move, I admit—” The man cleared his throat, still holding his arms up, “But all of your windows were locked.”

“Of course, they were!” I exclaimed, irritated with the man, “So that they keep people like you out.”

The man chuckled and lowered his arms to cross them in front of his chest, “Yeah, and look where that got you—”

I threw one pillow forcefully, managing to knock it into the man’s face. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from laughing as his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked appalled, “Right as I was about to tell you how pretty those paintings are…”

I glanced briefly at my paintings, but took a step back when the man took one towards me, “Thank you, I made them myself. Will you kindly walk out of my house so that I don’t have to scream for my neighbors to call for the constable?”

“Would you not report me if I left now?” The man asked with both of his eyebrows raised and I smiled, remembering all those hours at the castle where I had to learn how to hide my own emotions and how to be persuasive.

“If you don’t harm me, I won’t.” I said softly and the man narrowed his eyes at me, leaning a bit forward, as if he was trying to get a better look at my face. I kept my face neutral and looked him back in the eyes, trying to read his emotions. But his face was a mask of blankness, just like mine, that is until he smirked smugly, stood up straight, and ran both hands through his jelled back black hair.

“I’m not here to harm you, princess.” I couldn’t help the involuntary flinch of my body at the mention of the title, but quickly covered it by starting to fidget around as if I was feeling nervous all of a sudden. The man watched me closely, same smirk still on his lips, “I’m not a savage like that, you know?”

“Then what do you want?” I asked quietly, feigning fear as I quickly made up my route of escape. I throw the pillow at his head again and dash for the door. Then I run down to my neighbor’s house and ask for help. Certainly this man wouldn’t follow through with his plans if I wasn’t alone anymore.

“Money, lots of it.” His answer sounded strangely genuine and I gulped.

“I don’t have much, but I can give it to you—”

“Here you don’t have much, princess.” The glint in his eyes suddenly made me nervous and I tensed, wondering whether that truly was just a nickname or he knew about my true identity. I let out a quiet breath and took the tiniest step towards the door, ready to proceed with my plan, “You wouldn’t have been able to bring much alone, right? Princess Oh Y/N?”

I gasped and gaped at him for a few seconds, millions of questions running through my mind. Who was he? Who sent him? How did he know? What did he want? But as he started looking smug again, I quickly jumped into action and threw the pillow at him, dashing for the door. I successfully flung it open and as I went to run away, a strong arm wrapped around my middle and yanked me back inside the house. I was pressed up against a hard chest and before I could scream, a foul-smelling handkerchief was pressed against my nose and mouth, the man forcing me to inhale it. I tried to wriggle out of his firm grip, but it was useless as suddenly the world started spinning around me, darkness wrapping around my mind before my body went numb, kidnapped by a dreamless sleep.

The first thing that bothered me was the overwhelming smell of cologne. It reeked of men in here as I blinked my eyes open, only to jump up from my sprawled-out position in the unknown bed. The room rocked from left to right violently and for a second I thought my head was spinning, but then I looked out the small circle window, eyes widening when a huge wave crashed against it. I whipped my head around, a horrible realization dawning up on me. I was in a room on a ship! My heart started thumping wildly as I jumped off the bed and stared with my mouth open at the two opened briefcases on the floor, filled with my belongings. Blank canvas and different colored acrylics were scattered around on the floor, and I looked down at my body, realizing that I was wearing my long black coat. That man! He kidnapped me! I wanted to throw something against the wall as I started pacing up and down in the room, realizing that whoever he was, his intentions couldn’t be pure. If we were still close to the shore, I could jump off the ship, and swim back to the beach. But if we were out in the open sea…I was doomed. Was he really here to take me back to my mother? I groaned as I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing at the door. Could it be unlocked? He wouldn’t be so clumsy to leave the door open, right? I hoped he was, because then I could try and escape. I took a deep breath and decided to try my luck as I walked up to the door and grabbed the doorknob. I counted to five before turning it and pushing the door open, making it horribly creak open. I grimaced and hoped nobody was in the corridor to hear it as I realized nobody stood in front of the door. My little moment of happiness was soon crushed as I went to take off towards the right but crashed into a firm chest, a gasp leaving my lips as I recoiled from the body. The sight of the same man who kidnapped me brought little comfort as he raised his eyebrows at me, hands placed on his hips, an almost scolding look on his face. I sighed and knew there wasn’t much I could do now, and as if he read my mind, he took a step towards me, making me take a step backwards.

“Escaping already, princess?” He asked with a chuckle, “I heard you’re good at that.”

My mother would’ve had a fit if she saw me rolling my eyes at the man. He took another step forward and I took another one backwards, back inside the room, “I don’t know who told you that I’m a princess, but they were wrong.”

The man’s face morphed into a fake pout, “I wonder how you made enough money in three years to buy that cottage then.”

“Sold the goods I owned.” My lie was too quick and simple. Nobody would believe it. He took another step towards me, making me back further inside the room.

“Sure you did, princess.” He scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “There’s no use to lying, I can smell a princess from miles away when I see one.”

“Disgusting.” I scrunched my nose, making the man’s eyes widen.

“Not like that!” He defended himself quickly before he sighed, “You know…there’s a large sum promised to the one who brings you back to your kingdom.”

I gulped and took another step back when the man proceeded to walk closer, “I figured I should try my luck and try and find you. It was a lot easier than I expected, I bet your mother misses you like crazy.”

“Well, I don’t miss her.” I snapped and jumped backwards when the man reached out for me, “And I don’t want to return, so I demand you free me. I can still pay you lots of pennies and even gold—”

“Ah, ah.” The man smirked and I stumbled onto the bed when he took another step, too close for my liking, “I want the royal gold, not second hand one.”

“It wouldn’t be second hand!” My voice rose a few octaves, outraged by his assumption, “What do you take me for?!”

“A spoiled princess who thought she could get away until the end of times by hiding away in a painfully small village, way too close to her own kingdom.” I opened my mouth and was quickly left speechless as the man leaned down; head too close to mine for comfort. I tensed and leaned my head back a bit, looking up into his eyes. There was a playful twinkle in them and he licked his lips, chuckling, “I must admit, you look nothing like you were described.”

I gasped in offence, leaning back into the man’s face as I glared at him, “You are one to talk you—ogre!”

Indeed, I admit my insult was weak and didn’t even make sense. The worst thing was the shrill, high-pitched, almost crazy sounding laughter which left the man’s mouth, head thrown back as he started hysterically laughing. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, averting my eyes as the man started to calm down as he wiped away tears from the corner of his eyes, eyes falling on my face. I knew he could read the embarrassment on my face; it was futile to try and hide it now, “That’s the funniest thing anyone has ever called me.”

I huffed and refused to look at him, that is until I felt his soft hands wrap around my wrists. His hands felt cold as I glanced down at them and then back into his eyes. He had amusement still written all over his face, lips pulled up into a grin. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what he was about to do.

“You truly are a princess, princess.” He chuckled, his hands moving mine away from my chest, “You can’t even curse me out normally.”

“Oh, I can.” I smirked at him, making him raise an eyebrow, “I just choose not to, my genius is above that.”

“What a well-educated and well-mannered princess.” The man whispered and I gulped as I got lost in his warm brown eyes. His hands didn’t feel too cold anymore, however I felt something foreign against the skin of my wrist, something harsh. By the time I looked down my right wrist was yanked towards the headboard of the bed by a rope around it.

“What are you doing?!” I exclaimed as I tried to free my other wrist from his grasp, but he was quick as he overpowered me and pulled my wrist next to my other one, the rope already binding them together. My mouth fell open as I tried to free myself, moving as much as I could so that he wouldn’t tie me against the bed, but it did nothing as the man made an intricate knot and huffed as if it was the hardest mission of his life to tie me up, “You—you monster!”

The man stood back with his hands on his hips, looking very unimpressed. He squinted his eyes at me and then smiled fakely, “I’m not a monster nor an ogre, princess, I’m a pirate.”

“That’s even worse.” I sighed out as I moved my wrists, checking to see if there were any chances I could free myself. The man chuckled and stepped back, looking down at my belongings.

“You’ll have to clean up this mess at one point, I hate it when a place gets messy—”

“You do it, then.” I cut him off with a glare, tugging on the rope to no avail.

“I’m not your servant, princess.”

“Stop calling me princess.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as a grin stretched onto his lips, “I have a name, you know.”

“And so do I, princess, but I don’t hear you calling me that.” I groaned as I threw my head back, wondering whether he was doing this on purpose. Trying to annoy me.

“Because I don’t know your name, pirate, that’s why.” For a second the man looked surprised and then he scoffed, acting as if he hadn’t forgotten he never told me his name.

“It’s Wooyoung.” The man, Wooyoung, said and I looked at him, his name oddly familiar. Perhaps I have met someone with the same name before.

“Thank you, pirate, now I’ll know exactly who the royal guard will have to catch..” Wooyoung suddenly became serious as he threw an unimpressed glare my way, before wordlessly walking away. I stared at him wide eyed as he left the room, grabbing the doorknob as he stopped in the doorway and glanced back. Was he about to leave me alone? Tied against the bed?!

“What are you doing?! Where are you going?!” But Wooyoung didn’t answer as he smirked and closed the door, which creaked very loudly once again, and then walked away while whistling loudly, leaving me annoyed and frustrated as I tried to free myself form the bounds, but the rope burned my skin the more I tried. I stopped and groaned loudly, kicking my feet, making a mess of the blanket which was underneath me. This couldn’t get worse, right?

Two days of pure anguish passed by way too slowly, my arms sore and wrists burning from being bound to the bed for so long. No matter how much I asked Wooyoung to release me at least when I was eating, he would act like he was thinking about the idea, and then he’d smirk and draw out a no, then walk out of the room and leave me on my own, struggling to even grab the fork to eat my meal. The food was rather good, but I would never tell Wooyoung; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I appreciated at least one thing he did for me, which was as simple as bringing me food. In order to keep me alive, because eating is a necessity every human has. Even a princess. But to make matters worse, he’d leave the door slightly ajar, taunting me even more by how I couldn’t get to it. He made me want to conjure up all the swear words I knew and hurl them at him, curse him out like a sailor as if there was no tomorrow. Wooyoung was a very frustrating person. He would come and try and have a civil conversation with me, genuinely curious about the way I lived on my own for three years, and then suddenly, like a switch was flipped inside of him, he’d start grinning like a Cheshire cat, and the teasing that followed was relentless and sometimes even offensive. He loved pointing out the fact that I was a princess, and how I had everything always handed to me, acting as if I didn’t live on my own for three years without anyone’s acknowledgement of my true identity. He loved to blabber on about whatever he was supposed to do on deck, something about adjusting the sails accordingly to Jongho’s instructions, whoever that was. And then, as any regular man, he loved to show off his skills and talents. Yesterday while struggling to eat my dinner, he randomly pulled out his sword from his sheathe and took a step back in order to be able to show off his swordplay, shouting at nothing and stabbing the air as if his enemy stood there. I couldn’t help but gape at him, rice almost falling out of my mouth, which was very not princess like, until Wooyoung looked at me with the proudest expression on his face, making me burst out laughing. It was loud and so very unlike the way I would usually laugh, the feeling freeing, the shrillness of my squeals foreign even to myself. In my chaotic laughing fit I even managed to almost choke on the unchewed food in my mouth. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and tried to quiet down, but one look at Wooyoung’s face made me burst out in laughter once again, tummy aching, as he looked at me with utmost confusion, eyebrows furrowed, and one hand on his hip as his other held the sword.

“Why are you laughing?” He had genuinely sounded offended, and I hiccupped as I forced myself to gulp down the food.

“Because—” I had to take a deep breath before continuing, “what are you doing, Wooyoung? Is this what pirates do? Fling their swords around in the air at nothing?”

“I’m not flinging my sword at nothing!” Aggravation filled his voice as he stared at me wide eyed, “I’m—I’m practicing this new technique San showed me.”

He didn’t sound very convinced, and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him amused, “Is that it? Are you sure you aren’t trying to impress the princess?”

“As if!” Wooyoung scoffed appalled, and placed his sword back in its sheathe, “That’s least of my concerns.”

I grinned as I tried to lift the fork to my mouth to eat some more, “Yeah, well, I grew up around Navy soldiers, pirate, a weapon doesn’t impresses me anymore.”

“I wasn’t trying to impress you.” Wooyoung quickly defended himself, raising his chin high, the front strands of his hair falling back. His hair was relatively long, it framed over his face. I hated to admit it, but it looked really good. It suited him. I didn’t realize I had started staring until Wooyoung’s eyes snapped onto me, quirking an eyebrow as a smirk slowly etched onto his lips. I sighed loudly before averting my eyes, pretending that I wasn’t openly admiring him, just staring at him in disdain. I ignored the flush of my cheeks, knowing well that if I acknowledged it, then I would become embarrassed and blush even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could make me blush. I dug around in my food, hissing when the rope cut into the skin of my wrist, unable to grab the last pieces of my rice, slowly becoming frustrated. I didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping closer, smirk still present on his face, clearly enjoying my struggle. I really hated being tied up. There was no logic behind it. Where would I run? Up on deck and then do what? Jump into the sea? I wasn’t suicidal, but it seems like Wooyoung didn’t want to understand that I had no intentions of running away. Because I had nowhere to run to. I hadn’t accepted my fate yet; I wasn’t going back to my Kingdom and to my castle, to my mother, to be locked up for an eternity while I wait for my long-lost betrothed. I didn’t want to rule. I didn’t even want to see my mother. I had asked Wooyoung to release me twice already, but he just shook his head and walked off whistling, a pleased look on his irritating face, annoying me like there was no tomorrow. I groaned quietly when I realized I wouldn’t be able to eat the last bite of my dinner, and clumsily threw the fork onto the plate, creating a loud clattering sound. I wonder how these porcelain silverware don’t break on a, sometimes, violently rocking ship. I raised my head with a loud sigh and my eyes widened when I found Wooyoung barely inches away from my face. He raised his eyebrows as I flinched back, putting distance between our faces, his breath fanned over my cheeks. I did not want him that close to myself. When he wouldn’t move away, I glared and placed the plate on the bed next to me, balling up my hands into fists, ready to fight if he tried anything. I didn’t know him and despite him looking harmless he was still a man, and a pirate. All the tales I have heard about them were horrible, and suddenly I felt unsettled as all emotion disappeared from Wooyoung’s face and he looked all over my face, as if he was trying to memorize my features. I gulped, suddenly flustered, my own eyes running over his handsome face. I always thought pirates would be ugly and old. Nobody has ever told tales of young and handsome pirates who returned princesses to their kingdoms. Wasn’t there a price on their heads? What horrible things has Wooyoung done? Suddenly, Wooyoung tsked, and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I swear,” He mumbled, rubbing his chin, leaning uncomfortably close, “I feel like I have seen you before.”

My heart somersaulted in my chest for an unknown reason, and my eyes briefly glanced at his plush lips, before I looked back into his eyes. I hoped he hadn’t seen my slip up, because I had a feeling he would definitely mock me for it later. Wooyoung, however, didn’t look familiar to me. I was positive I have never seen him before; his name, on the other hand, sounded peculiarly familiar.

“Of course, you have seen me before, idiot.” I snapped, trying to ignore the rapid beats of my heart, “I’m a princess. There’s portraits of me, you know?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and finally, stepped back, but still not far enough. Our knees were touching as I sat by the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he huffed loudly, “I’m not talking about the portraits, silly.”

“Are you saying we have seen each other in person before, then?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this peculiar thought of his. Where and how could we have seen each other before? It’s not like a pirate was often invited to join the socialite parties organized by the Queen herself. Unless Wooyoung wasn’t a pirate all his life. That thought made me gasp silently, and I allowed myself to look all over him again, eyes taking in his attire. Everything about his clothes screamed expensive and they looked fairly new. Not a speck of dust dirtied his outfit, and everything else looked exactly just like that on him, perfect. His buttons were all done, shirt tucked carefully inside his pants, and even the belt seemed to hang around his hips at a perfect angle. His hair, too, was styled and it seemed that he gelled it back in order to keep it out of his eyes. No dirt was smeared on his face nor clothes, and his stance seemed strong, shoulders pulled back, back painfully straight. I haven’t seen a pirate before, but this certainly wasn’t the way they looked. No matter how gentleman like they were.

“I doubt a princess like you roams places like the ones I do, so no, that’s impossible.” Wooyoung retorted, giving me a look which made it obvious that he thought I was dumb. My jaw clenched at his very subtle jab, but I just smiled at him sweetly, too sweetly.

“Unless you weren’t a pirate your whole life, Wooyoung, we might have crossed paths before then.” My sentence should’ve been laughed at, the thought quite out of place and nonsensical. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be a pirate willingly. But the way Wooyoung’s body seemed to suddenly tense and eyebrows furrow was a reaction I did not expect. My eyes narrowed at him as he suddenly cleared his throat and stepped back, snatching the plate off the bed, “Do I happen to be right?”

Wooyoung didn’t answer straight away, just threw a glare my way before he grabbed the handle of his sword tightly. I eyed it as he scoffed, trying to play off the tense air around him, “A princess like you knows nothing, Y/N, stop being silly and shut up.”

“And a pirate like you wouldn’t be so defensive all of a sudden if I wasn’t right—”

“Ah, really, now.” Wooyoung cut me off with a smirk on his lips, again, leaning down to be eye level with me, “You just had to get mouthy when I was starting to debate whether to release you or not.”

My eyes widened as Wooyoung chuckled and ran for the door, just as my mouth opened, “Wooyoung! You nasty pirate, release me, right now!”

He was out the door before I could stop screaming at him, but he had the audacity to poke his head back inside with an amused look on his face, “You can’t command me around, I’m not one of your servants.”

“Yet you bring me everything I need, like a servant.” I fired back at it, a grin pulling onto my lips, the sudden anger disappearing for a few seconds, until Wooyoung slammed the door shut behind him without saying anything else. I let out a frustrated scream and trashed my legs around, until I registered the pain coming from my wrists, realizing I was straining the rope against the already damaged skin. My mother would kill me for turning up bruised after three years of not seeing me.

And I wished Wooyoung’s teasing stopped there, but it didn’t. The following day each time he came inside the room, he would somehow manage to pretend that he was going to release me, only to run away cackling as I just fell back against the hard mattress, biting my lip and blinking away the frustrated tears which threatened to fall. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. It wasn’t worth it. In four more days I would be released, perhaps I could survive that much. Hopefully the rope wouldn’t create an actual wound against my fragile skin. It was somewhere around late evening, the light coming through the small window barely strong enough to light up the room I was held in. I figured it was Wooyoung’s room when he came to retrieve fresh clothes this morning, of course mocking me for not having escaped yet. Perhaps if the bounds weren’t so tight I might’ve done just that. I was sitting on the bed, back pressed against the wooden wall, sighing as I played with the pencil in my hand. I somehow convinced Wooyoung to hand me my sketchbook and a pencil, desperate to do something since I couldn’t sleep and stare out the small window all day long. But the light wasn’t enough anymore for me to see the lines I was creating, and my wrist was aching from drawing all day long. Suddenly, the door was slammed open and I jumped, tensing as I thought it was someone other than Wooyoung, but it was him. He was holding a lantern in his hand as he strutted inside while whistling, looking awfully happy and smug, as he cast me a glance from the corner of his eyes. I scoffed and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at him after he pretended to cut the ropes while I was eating lunch today. I did not appreciate his humorless jokes. Especially since he was mocking me with them.

“Enjoying the sunset, princess?” Hearing the title roll of his tongue so smoothly only irritated me furthermore, and I refused to answer as he placed the lantern on the desk. He brought that in just for me, actually. But I’d rather sit in darkness than be tied up. Wooyoung paused and placed his hands on his hips, looking at me expectantly.

“Not in the mood to talk? That’s new, you always have something to say.” I had to steel myself from rolling my eyes at him as he jutted his lips out in a disgusting pout. How was this man a pirate? Even if he were to threaten me with taking my life, I wouldn’t be able to take him seriously anymore.

“I see you’ve been drawing today.” He muttered, more to himself, as he approached the bed. He leaned one knee against the hard mattress and leaned forward, grabbing my sketchbook. I wanted to swat his hand away, but I didn’t react as I kept ignoring him. Perhaps he’d get bored of teasing me if I didn’t react any way and he’d go away.

“Oh,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at me, “have you seen our ship before?”

We made eye contact but I didn’t answer him as Wooyoung raised his eyebrows even more, waiting for my answer. But I remained unresponsive and he rolled his eyes, “Fine, don’t talk then. The drawing looks eerily similar to our ship, princess. That’s why I asked.”

He was quite dumb if he thought a princess like myself has seen a pirate ship before, let alone this one. Wooyoung dropped the sketchbook into my lap, lips pulled in a straight line as he remained leaning close to me.

“I was in a good mood before I came to visit you, what a pity.” Wooyoung sighed dramatically, eyebrows furrowing and mocking my voice suddenly, “I really thought of releasing you, but—your attitude needs some fixing so I’m giving you a lesson by not setting you free, understand?”

That was the last straw. The tone of his voice, the mocking and malice laced into it made my blood boil as my head whipped forward, face scrunched into a scowl. Before Wooyoung could even react, his proximity allowed for my left hand to smack against his cheek. Despite it being the back of my hand, the slap was strong and loud as Wooyoung jumped back with a loud cry, holding his reddening cheek. His eyes were rounded as he stared at me in shock, and I was breathing hard, glaring at him furiously. Nobody moved or said anything for a few seconds, and suddenly I heard hurried footsteps barreling down the hallway, headed our way. Thanks to Wooyoung leaving the door open, I watched as two men tumbled inside the room, eyes wide and hands on the handle of their swords as they looked around, assessing the situation. They both were tall, but the one on the left was taller, and his black hair was wavy. The man next to him had sharper features and his long hair was pulled into a half ponytail, his corset showing off his delicate curves. My mouth slightly dropped open at the sight, hardly believing that these two handsome men were pirates. But suddenly, the taller one looked at Wooyoung and burst out into loud laughter as Wooyoung whined with a childlike frown.

“Seonghwa!” He exclaimed like a little kid, making me look at him with wide eyes. Why did Wooyoung sound like he was about to tell on me to his mother?

“What are you two—” The taller man’s laughter boomed around us, it brought a smile on my own face, and Seonghwa, the ethereal looking man, seemed to throw him a subtle glare as he had to raise his voice in order to be heard. But Wooyoung left him no chance to speak.

“The princess whacked me—”

“You keep teasing me—”

“Because you’re entitled—”

“I’ve been living on my own for three years, for Heaven’s sake, how am I entitled—”

“You’re still a princess and you keep commanding me around—”

“So you keep mocking me that you’ll release me only to walk away?!” Wooyoung and I were screaming over each other at this point, silencing the taller man’s laughter too, and making Seonghwa look at us puzzled, “It hurts! My wrists are sore and I can’t feel my arms, Wooyoung!”

“Well—well—” Wooyoung went to scream back something, but all he did was open and close his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he started rubbing his cheek. The tall man snorted loudly, but one look from Seonghwa quickly silenced him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he cast me a glance, eyes softening for a second, only to turn into a glare as he looked back at Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung,” He started, voice steady and soft, “Why is the princess tied up?”

My head whipped back to Wooyoung as I waited for his answer, glare burning into his forehead as Wooyoung seemed to be avoiding looking at me. He gulped, but said nothing. The taller man had to bite his lower lip as his body started trembling, on the verge of another fit of laughter.

“Yunho.” Seonghwa snapped, “Stop it.”

“Sorry.” The man mumbled, barely, as he rubbed his stomach and jaw, eyebrows furrowing in a funny way.

“Wooyoung, I asked you a question.” Seonghwa said with a sigh and Wooyoung suddenly crossed his arms, looking like a child.

“I tied her up, because—” Wooyoung shrugged, licking his lips as he rolled his eyes, “I wanted to.”

“You bastard!” I snapped, glaring at him, making Yunho snicker until Seonghwa elbowed him in the stomach harshly.

“Untie her, now.” Seonghwa said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking at Wooyoung unimpressed. He looked like a parent who was scolding their mischievous child. Definitely didn’t fit the image I had of pirates in my head. But perhaps Seonghwa was a leaderlike figure, because Wooyoung grumbled quietly to himself, but grabbed a dagger from his boots, and looked at me with a glare. If it weren’t for already knowing Wooyoung, I perhaps would have been scared to have a pirate look at me like that with a weapon pointed my way, but all I could do was smirk at him. Wooyoung scoffed as he very slowly approached me, drawing out the action on purpose, taking his time in cutting the ropes as Seonghwa and Yunho watched. The later more amused as he kept giggling, making Seonghwa sigh until he had enough and pushed Yunho outside. I let out a sigh of contentment when the ropes were finally gone from my skin and stared at my bruised skin, hissing as I touched it. This would certain require some time to heal and it also wouldn’t be as painless as I had hoped, but at least I was free. Wooyoung said nothing as he stormed off, punching Yunho’s shoulder in the process when he walked past him, making the taller man burst out into laughter again as he followed after his fellow mate.

“I’m sorry for the discomfort caused, princess, but I had no idea Wooyoung was treating you like that.” Seonghwa’s voice was oddly soft and friendly as he stepped further inside, grabbing the rope and gathering it up in his hands. His words made it sound like Wooyoung was doing something very horrible to me and I had the sudden urge to clarify the situation.

“He didn’t hurt me,” I spoke up, looking at Seonghwa warily as he shook his head slightly, “and he fed me regularly, it’s just that—I was rather frustrated by his constant teasing. Hence why I reacted the way I did, I know it wasn’t particularly nice.”

Seonghwa suddenly chuckled and looked at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes, “You’re rather protective of your kidnapper and captor’s actions, princess.”

“I am not!” My response was too quick, it made Seonghwa chuckle. I looked away embarrassed, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Well, then…” He cleared his throat and stepped back, pocketing the rope, “You’re free to do whatever you want while you’re on the ship, except jump into the water. I can assure you that we will not save you by sacrificing one of our own. Your mother wants you back safe and sound, princess, we’re not here to harm you, we’re here to collect the copious amount of payment.”

“You mean Wooyoung is? Since he was the one to find me…” My voice got small as Seonghwa hummed and headed towards the door.

“Indeed, Wooyoung is, but he’s nice enough to share it with his brothers.” Seonghwa grabbed the doorknob as he stepped outside, “I wish you a pleasant evening, princess.”

“You too, pirate.” I bowed my head as Seonghwa bowed his, and then he closed the door behind himself. I quickly jumped out of bed and stretched my legs and back, moaning at the pleasant feeling of my bones finally popping, and my muscles pulling. Wooyoung could’ve avoided all of this ruckus if he were nicer.

I couldn’t have been more excited to finally breathe in fresh air, so, after breakfast I was already up on my feet and changing into a baby blue silk dress, one of my favorites’, which I had brought with myself from the castle. It screamed richness as the collar was decorated with royal opal stones and it missed its matching headpiece, my tiara. I didn’t have the heart to bring that with myself when I left, scared that it would be a giveaway of my origins. After all, the royal opal was a significant gemstone of the Oh family and of the Sun Rise Kingdom. Seonghwa had been kind enough to show me where the washroom was, a small chamber with a barrel inside, which served as a bathtub; it was rather horrifying, until I reminded myself that I was currently on a pirate ship. I couldn’t wrap my mind around having to live like this. Wooyoung, for once, seemed to be avoiding me as he brought me breakfast and left wordlessly or without even glancing my way. I was ready to put our little shenanigans past us and greet him a good morning, but he barely stepped inside and placed the tray of food on the end of the bed before he was already gone, shutting the door after himself roughly. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa coming to check up on me thirty minutes later, I perhaps would’ve burst out crying from having to sit all dirty and coped up in this annoying pirate’s room, which still smelled strongly of cologne. This was also peculiar, because when I started walking down the corridors, all kinds of smells invaded my nose, making me feel nauseous. For a pirate, Wooyoung oddly smelled like a prince. Gripping the skirt of my dress, I slightly lifted it so that I could climb up the stairs, headed towards the blinding sunlight. The salty air felt refreshing as I arrived onto the deck, the wind slightly stronger than it usually would be on the beach back in the village I lived at. The sky was crystal clear, no clouds decorating it, and the vast sea was a beautiful deep blue, glistening and foaming as the ship sailed smoothly. I had approached the railing and looked over it, marveling at the beauty around myself, never having seen such sight before. When I escaped from my kingdom I was forced to hide under the deck the whole ride, I didn’t have the opportunity to look at the sea. There was something very calming and beautiful about it, I loved sitting on the beach in the evenings and watching the sunset. Suddenly, my heart clenched when I realized I would no longer be able to do that, the city where the royal Oh family resided was a four-hour long carriage ride away from the beach, my mother would never allow me to travel back and forth.

“Careful, you might fall over.” A very deep voice suddenly spoke up next to me and I was startled as I stepped back from the railing, looking to my right. A friendly looking man stood next to me; his lips pulled into a small smile. His angelic features didn’t match his low voice at all. I smiled at him and bowed my head slightly.

“Seonghwa told me you wouldn’t rescue me if that happened.” I said with a chuckle and the man’s eyebrows furrowed.

“That is quite incorrect, we don’t leave one of our own behind.” The man said with conviction and glanced past me, eyes slightly narrowing. I followed his gaze and my eyes settled on Seonghwa, who was gripping the wheel and holding a binocular to his eye as he gazed out towards horizon.

“Perhaps he was trying to scare me, then.” I chuckled and looked back at Yeosang, offering him my hand, “My name is Y/N.”

“My name is Yeosang.” He took my hand, and to my surprise, swiftly pressed a kiss against it, slightly curtsying, “Pleasure to meet you, Princess Y/N.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pulled my hand back, having not been treated with such respect in the past three years. The feeling was foreign, yet it felt right. I didn’t miss it, but for the first time I felt like someone on this ship truly respected me. Unlike with Wooyoung, I could see myself becoming fond of Yeosang. And then, suddenly, there was a quiet squeak behind him, and he slightly turned his head, a fond smile appearing on Yeosang’s lips as he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed, and I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Then his lips moved, but his voice was low and the crashing of waves completely overrode his words. I stood watching curiously as Yeosang nodded, and suddenly, a head popped out from behind his shoulder. My eyes instantly widened as I looked at the young girl, her sharp eyes wide with wonder and admiration as her eyes quickly stopped on my dress.

“This is Hana.” Yeosang’s hand suddenly gripped the girl’s, their fingers intertwined. She looked so small next to him, she was smaller than even myself, and I wasn’t a very tall woman, “She’s shy, but she wanted me to tell you that she adores your dress.”

My lips pulled up into a wide smile as I beamed at her, gripping the fabric of my dress, “Thank you, Hana! It is my favorite dress, actually.”

“You’re pretty too, Princess.” Hana’s voice was velvety and quiet, but I heard her. I bowed my head and her eyes widened as she quickly bowed back, seemingly not knowing how to react. She was wearing clothes like the rest of the pirates, albeit the shirt seemed too big for her frame, and a belt held the pants against her narrow hips. She looked a bit malnourished, but her cheeks were full of color despite her pale complexion.

“Thank you, Hana, you’re very lovely yourself.” Hana’s lips pulled up into a huge smile and her head turned quickly as she beamed up at Yeosang. The man’s attention seemed to be on her only, his ears-tinged red, as he nodded at Hana, a proud glint in his eyes. Hana’s cheeks were pink and she hid herself behind Yeosang, completely disappearing. It was endearing watching the two, watching how Yeosang’s built frame offered the girl protection, shielding her from unwanted eyes and any harm.

“She’s still learning how to accept compliments.” Yeosang explained and I nodded, not wanting to probe for a reason, nevertheless still curious. Yeosang placed his hands in his pockets and slightly bowed his head, “We’ll be on our way, Princess, we’re quite busy today. Taeri and I have collected some new herbs, and I’m excited to make a new tea I have learned not so long ago.”

Taeri. So there was one more woman on this ship besides Hana. It felt nice knowing that I wasn’t the only female surrounded by slimy pirates, although they proved to be quite the opposite of slimy. Yeosang’s comment caught my attention, however, people who knew how to use herbs to make teas were usually healers, “Excuse me, Yeosang, do you happen to be a healer?”

“I’m a doctor, actually.” He corrected and I let out a sigh of relief before I slightly pulled the sleeve of my dress up on my left arm. Yeosang’s eyes fell onto my wrist, eyebrows furrowing when he saw the red skin and dark bruises, “That isn’t good. It hurts, right?”

I nodded wordlessly and noticed Hana just barely poking her head over Yeosang’s shoulder, standing on her tip toes, but she quickly cringed away when she saw the bruises. They didn’t even look that bad, but perhaps she had a reason why she reacted that way.

“I will stop by after lunch with some ointment and a tea, you’re staying in Wooyoung’s room, right?” Yeosang asked with a smile and I nodded with a long sigh, making Yeosang chuckle, “Well, then you’re never bored.”

“I wish I was.” I muttered as Yeosang and Hana passed by me, Hana slightly waving at me before hiding her face in Yeosang’s back. I chuckled and smiled after them, the scent of freesias’ strong as they passed by. I watched the two as they disappeared below deck, Hana bouncing off the stairs more freely when it was just the two of them. I couldn’t help but feel happy that nice people were present on this ship and that I felt like I was welcomed here. As I looked around, I noticed Seonghwa had abandoned his post and was leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck, nodding his head in acknowledgment as we made eye contact. Another man had taken his place at the wheel, significantly shorter than Seonghwa, and with eyes sharper, and an aura which screamed dominance. His hair was blonde and the back strands had reached his shoulders, a black cloth was wrapped around tightly over his shirt on his right bicep. It didn’t take long to realize he was the Captain. I sighed, and turned around, realizing that I still didn’t have much to do. I was free, but still captive in some way and since I was a princess on a pirate ship, I really couldn’t do anything else than stay in Wooyoung’s room all day long and come up on deck for some fresh air from time to time. And perhaps that was the smartest choice, because as I decided to head downstairs, I caught the eyes of some older looking pirates, which looked just like I had imagined them. They were leaning against some barrels, sharpening their knives and daggers as their eyes followed every movement of mine. I gulped and hugged myself around my middle as I straightened my back; a princess never shows weakness. The pirates chuckled, seemingly amused by my actions, and I held my chin higher as I went to take off, only for my upper arm to be gripped and slightly pulled back. The stench hit me first, before I could even turn around, and I yelped once I came face to face with a very old pirate who looked like, and smelled like, he hadn’t had a bath in years. One of his eye was fully white and his beard awfully outgrown, clothes ragged, and a stain on his cheek which I could only hope was some sort of oil.

“Royal flesh on the ship—” The pirate spat on the floor and I gasped, taking a step back but his grip on me didn’t allow for me to go too far, “Flaunting ye wealth while we rot away. Shark food is what ye are, rat. I might push ye over—”

“Easy, mate,” I never heard him approaching us, let alone unsheathing his sword, but it was pressing against the old pirate’s Adam’s Apple in a blink, “Don’t play with something that isn’t yours. Release her, now.”

“Claimed her as yers, eh?” The old pirate grinned sickly and a few of his teeth were missing, eyes twinkling as he looked Wooyoung in the eyes. I tugged on my arm, but the man’s grip wasn’t easing up just yet.

“The Princess is mine, mate, and I don’t like it when someone touches what’s mine.” Wooyoung’s voice dropped dangerously low and my eyes widened as I looked at him, his glare on the man menacing. The old pirate just laughed, a throaty and hoarse sound, before suddenly his grip was gone as Wooyoung’s sword was swiftly raised in the air, coming down towards the man’s wrist. The old pirate yelled and jumped backwards, clutching his unharmed wrist to his chest, eyes crazed and wide as he stared at Wooyoung, “Go tell your old little friends that if anyone touches the Princess their hands won’t be no more. Both hands.”

“The Captain will hear about this—”

“And he’ll do nothing about it,” Wooyoung smirked smugly as he pressed the sword against the wooden floor, leaning his weight against it as his hands rested on top of the handle, “I’m sharing the prize with him, do you think he won’t side with me?”

“Royal scum.” The old pirate spat and wobbled off, his comment making Wooyoung laugh as he placed his sword back onto its sheathe. I watched as the old man joined the pirates who had been previously eyeing me hungrily and spoke furiously to them, probably recounting what happened just seconds ago. Wooyoung looked at me for the first time today, and I couldn’t help but let out a shuddered breath. I wasn’t so safe on this ship, after all, and not all pirates were like Wooyoung. Or like Seonghwa, Yunho, and Yeosang. I subconsciously rubbed my wrist, wincing at the pain; I had forgotten they were bruised. Wooyoung’s eyes followed my actions and he gulped when I showed signs of pain, but didn’t speak up.

“Thank you for that.” I said quietly, suddenly feeling shy as I looked away. Wooyoung hummed and rubbed the back of his head, patting his sleeveless tank top down. His clothes seemed to be fresh once again. How did a pirate constantly wear a new set of clothes, wardrobe never seeming to empty out? Did they even have that much money? Why did the pirate say royal scum? Did he refer to me? Then why did he say it to Wooyoung? My eyebrows furrowed as I looked back at Wooyoung, who seemed rather modest despite helping me out. I thought he’d be smugger about it.

“No need to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” He shrugged and cleared his throat, “Uh, you’re—you’re not mine, I just had to make sure that man wouldn’t bother you anymore. Pirates tend to be…more possessive of what’s theirs so, uhm, by saying you’re mine I made it clear that if he touched you he’d be facing punishment.”

I could’ve sworn Wooyoung was blushing, but he turned his head around, pretending to be looking for someone as his eyes searched the deck. I appreciated his explanation, but for some weird reason I didn’t find it infuriating that he pretended to claim me. By no means was I an object to be claimed, but the way he said it…it felt different. Like it meant more than just a simple claim. Before my thoughts could steal me away from reality, a man called out for Wooyoung.

“Stop flirting with the Princess and bring your ass over here!” It was Yunho, and he was standing next to a man I hadn’t met yet, but he was glaring at the arm Yunho had slung over his shoulders before he went and brushed it off, “Jongho is upset again, you overslept and didn’t do your duties.”

Wooyoung groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced back at me, “Sorry, princess, but I have to tend to my real duties now.”

I couldn’t help but allow a smirk to sneak onto my lips, “So, you do admit that the other day you were just trying to impress me if whatever you’re about to do is your real purpose on this ship.”

“Yeah, I—what?!” Wooyoung exclaimed appalled and his eyebrows furrowed, “I wasn’t trying to impress you, stop making things seem like something they aren’t!”

“But you just almost confessed to it.” I smiled sneakily and Wooyoung groaned.

“Go have a beauty sleep, princess, you look like you need one.” I gasped, but before I could throw an insult back at Wooyoung, he ran off to Yunho and Jongho, I assume, getting tackled into a headlock by the man I wasn’t familiar with yet. I held my chin high and turned around, storming down the stairs and towards Wooyoung’s room, knowing that he stored a mirror in one of his drawers, eager to see whatever he was talking about. There was no way I didn’t look spectacular today, I made sure there were no signs that I barely got a wink of sleep since I had gotten onto the ship. Outrageous. Wooyoung was so annoying.

Another day had gone by fast without much happening on the ship. Wooyoung was busy with that Jongho pirate, apparently he had been slacking off lately and the Captain had summoned him this morning, asking for an explanation. When Wooyoung didn’t show up with breakfast, I thought about wandering around in search for the kitchen, but Seonghwa beat me to it as he brought me breakfast and let me know that I might be seeing less of Wooyoung the following days. I didn’t mind, in fact, I was grateful that he wouldn’t chew off my ears anymore; at least now I had a little bit of peace of mind before we reached my Kingdom and castle. It gave me time to figure out a plan which would help me escape my mother once again. I knew she’d hate me and probably exile me from the Kingdom, but it’s exactly what I wanted. To get rid of my royal duties as next in line to the throne. I didn’t want to rule in a place which felt like a prison, in a place which wasn’t complete without its King, and in a place where I would never be taken seriously. All of my mother’s advisors dislike me, and had always been against me inheriting the throne, always encouraging my mother to try for another baby in hopes of it being a boy so that he’d bear the crown. But my mother didn’t want another child as her labor was difficult with me and she almost lost her life in the process of giving birth. I was her only hope, and despite that, all I kept doing was disappoint her. I should’ve felt bad about it, but I stopped caring when she started becoming more and more demanding and pressuring. Perhaps if I could somehow convince her that I was back for good and intended on staying, that I have matured and grown to regret my decision, I would earn her trust again, after all I am her only child, then perhaps she’ll crown me and unknowingly fall into my trap. She’d willingly and legally hand over all the fortune which I would run away with later, once I have ruled for enough time to get everyone off my back. But for that…I need someone on my side, someone who would help me. But who would be that person? I didn’t know many people who would do that for me, let alone whom I trusted enough to tell the plan to. Perhaps…would a pirate be interested in playing along with me if I promised enough gold in return for their services?

That was a question I didn’t know the answer to, and I sighed as I glanced back up at the horizon, sky coated in dark shades of pink mixed with purple and a little bit of orange. The sun was setting, creating a beautiful landscape as the ship swayed gently side to side. A few clouds decorated the sky here and there, promising a storm free night. The breeze was gentle as I sat by the railing, feet pushed through the gaps and dangling off the side of the ship as I swayed my legs from time to time, trying to avoid numbness in them. My right hand held my sketchbook as I held a dark blue crayon in my left hand, drawing out the waves onto my drawing. A few more colored crayons sat carefully by my thigh as I made sure they wouldn’t roll away; my heart would break if I lost any colors. I couldn’t live without painting or drawing; it was the one thing I couldn’t leave behind alongside with my title.

The setting was peaceful, and I enjoyed the fresh air and solitude for as long as I could, no pirate in sight as the deck was empty. I thought they never left the deck unsupervised, but perhaps so far out in the sea there were no dangers of other people showing up. Or perhaps these pirates were just confident about their combat skills and they didn’t have to be on the lookout at all time. However, the girl sitting next to me was so quiet, that I completely forgot about her existence if it weren’t for her sneezing, making me jump. My eyes widened as I turned my head and looked at the petite girl, her cheeks rosy as she looked away embarrassed. She has been sitting by my side for the past hour, not saying a word, just watching my drawing. She looked curious as her wide eyes watched carefully each swipe of my hand, her fingers sometimes itching as she reached out, only to sit back and place her hands underneath her thighs. I didn’t know if she whether wanted to be acknowledged or not, so I remained silent, and allowed her the choice to speak up or remain silent. She seemed content in my presence, and it made me smile to myself as she gasped when I created ripples in the water on my sketchbook, leaning forward on her hands as she pocked her head closer.

“Are you feeling cold, Hana?” I asked as I stopped drawing, looking at the younger girl. She jumped and quickly leaned back; cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her nose was red and she had started sniffing as she sneezed again. When Hana realized I wouldn’t continue drawing until she gave me an answer, she quickly shook her head no. I nodded, but decided to take off my shawl from around my shoulders, and hand it over to her. Hana eyed the piece of clothing curiously, reluctantly taking it, “You keep sneezing, wear it, so you don’t catch a flu.”

“Oh, Princess—” Her eyes widened as she bowed her head deeply, her hands clenched, “I really shouldn’t—”

“You most certainly should, Hana,” I chuckled and placed the shawl on her lap, “I insist. Besides, I’m sure Yeosang would be rather worried if you suddenly were to become sick.”

“I’d rather not have him worried about me again…” Hana whispered and quickly wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, the orange fabric complementing her skin tone. I hummed and went back to drawing, the late evening breeze was colder, and it made goosebumps erupt on my skin. I should follow my own advice, and head back to Wooyoung’s room soon, get ready for bed and dinner. It wouldn’t be long until he’d bring me dinner, perhaps I still had time to quickly wash up. I watched from the corner of my eyes as Hana followed each movement of my hands with her eyes, lips opened in awe, looking like she was trying to memorize each line I was drawing.

“Tell me, Hana,” I spoke up as I grabbed the orange crayon, “Do you happen to enjoy drawing?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly, her lips pulled into a wide smile, “I do, Princess! I have made a few sketches myself ever since Yeosang gifted me some canvas and pencils.”

“I actually prefer to paint, but I think the pirates would’ve been outraged if I brought my whole equipment up here.” I rolled my eyes and Hana chuckled, hiding her blush with the shawl.

“Some of them are actually really nice, and Taeri is very helpful and attentive—” Hana abruptly looked away, it looked like she was about to cry, “they take good care of you here, it’s weird. I bet you expected them to be barbarians, Princess, and yet sometimes these men act like little children.”

I laughed quietly and nodded, thoughts straying to Wooyoung. He definitely didn’t act like a pirate, his antics resembling that of a spoiled little child. Taeri I have met earlier today, when she came to Wooyoung’s room, asking if I needed anything or if Wooyoung was bothering me in any way. She had a very motherly aura as we conversed, and I was surprised to find out that she had been living on the ship for ten years now, a pirate herself. Before our conversation could stray to the reason why I ran away from home, Yunho came looking for her, boyish grin on his lips as Taeri told him she’d be joining him in a second. Apparently, they had to check out the supply room, making sure we had enough of everything until we reached land. As I went to close the door after Taeri and Yunho’s departure, I caught a glimpse of Yunho pressing his lips against Taeri’s neck, pushing her down the corner as they disappeared from sight. I closed the door with a shake of my head, wondering if Wooyoung had anyone like Taeri in his life. The thought was sudden and surprising, and before I could dwell more on it, I quickly shook my head and went to dig through my briefcases, searching for something which would keep me warm if I went up on the deck.

“They certainly left an impression on me,” I said with a chuckle, making Hana nod, “but I can’t help feel resignment towards them, especially Wooyoung. He’s the one who captured me, and he is the reason why I’ll be seeing my mother in just a few days—”

“But being a princess must be so nice, I can’t find a reason why I would run away if I was in your place, Princess.” Hana cut me off, words tumbling out of her mouth eagerly, as her eyebrows were furrowed. I hummed and looked off in the distance, eyes unfocused as my grip loosened on my sketchbook. Yes, perhaps, this is how outsiders think of a privileged life. They don’t really have a chance to find out about our hardships, and even then, are we allowed to whine and complain? Are we allowed to wallow in desperation when other people have it so much harder? When other people barely have anything, and are fighting to survive day to day, meanwhile I cry myself to sleep because my mother wouldn’t allow me to paint unless I have attended my etiquette class? As I turned to look at the girl next to me, I couldn’t help but wonder about what her life was like. Wonder what her biggest worries and fears were, anything which would take my head out of the gutter and ground me back to reality. Here I was, on the verge of throwing a fit about not wanting to return home, when the girl next to me seemed to jump at any loud sounds, seemed to become smaller when a man came into sight, seemed to hesitate every time she spoke up, seemed to have scars peeking out from underneath her long sleeves. She was pure and innocent yet the look in her eyes made her look older, tired, and horrified of the world around her, as if she’s seen horrors nobody else has. I didn’t have it in me to tell her the reason why I didn’t want to return home, it felt like I would be making fun of her, taunting her even, so, instead I dodged her question as best as I could.

“Please, call me just Y/N,” I smiled at her and watched as her cheeks turned pink, “I haven’t been a proper princess for three years, it doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh, alright, I shall do that—” Hana seemed to struggle for a second until she ducked her head and whispered, “Y/N.”

I smiled fondly at her and nodded, looking down at my almost finished drawing. The sun had almost disappeared and the air has turned cold, making me shiver. I grabbed a purple crayon and quickly finished the sketch, bringing it up to my eyes, making sure it was finished. I could see Hana lean closer, wide eyes filled with curiosity as I turned towards her and handed her the sketchbook. She looked surprised, but eager as she took it from my hands, staring at the sketch in awe. Her small fingers delicately traced the same lines I had done minutes ago, eyebrows furrowed as she examined my technique.

“It’s for you, Hana, you can keep the drawing.” I found myself saying, taken aback when Hana looked at me with tearful eyes. She was smiling still, but she looked overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do or say, taken aback by her reaction, so I settled for, “It’s a gift, so you can’t refuse it.”

It made Hana cry and my eyes widened as I panicked, thinking that I have said something wrong, but she quickly clutched the sketchbook to her chest, and smiled so widely her cheeks must have hurt, “Nobody has ever given me a gift so beautiful!”

I felt my heart warm at her words and I chuckled, leaning forward to wipe a tear off her cheek, “Don’t cry, Hana, your eyes will be puffy in the morning.”

She giggled and wiped her tears away quickly, bowing her head in thankfulness, “Thank you, Princess Y/N.”

“You said you only had pencils?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the crayons from next to me. Hana nodded as she carefully ripped the page I have gifted to her out of the sketchbook before she handed it back to me. I took the sketchbook and grabbed her wrist, turning her palm, “Take the crayons too. The world would be so grim without colors, I’m sure your drawings will look even prettier with them.”

I placed the crayons in her palm and Hana gasped, gaping at me as I stood up and dusted off the skirt of my dress, bringing my arms around myself in order to try and warm up. Hana scrambled to her feet, and having noticed that I was feeling cold, she went to hand back the shawl, but I stopped her with a raise of my hand, “Keep it, I have plenty of shawls like that one.”

“Oh, Princess—” She brought a hand to her mouth as her lower lip trembled and I just chuckled, feeling slightly concerned. What has happened to this girl before that she was reacting in such way? I’ve never seen anyone so overwhelmed at the simple action such as receiving gifts, “I am so grateful! Thank you so much! I don’t—I don’t even know how to repay you—actually! Come join us for dinner tonight…Ara will sing for us, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Her voice is so pretty, and she’ll be so happy to sing for a Princess like you, Y/N.”

“There’s another girl on the ship?” I asked surprised, eyebrows raising as Hana grabbed my arm softly, and started pulling me towards the stairs.

“Yes, but she rarely leaves her room. She’s—” Hana stiffened for a second, I wouldn’t have caught it if she didn’t stop walking, “San doesn’t like letting her out of his sight, he’s—Would you like to meet Ara before dinner?”

I listened to Hana with furrowed eyebrows, taking in the new information, slightly confused about who San was. Wooyoung mentioned him once briefly, something about learning something from him, but I haven’t seen the man yet. I hadn’t even known there was another woman on the ship, nobody ever talked about her, it was peculiar. But Hana seemed very eager, and so I nodded, not wanting to ruin her good mood as she pulled me after herself, leading us underneath deck. She turned to the left and walked down the corridor, we passed by four doors, until she suddenly stopped walking. I almost ran into her, but noticed in time. Hana was suddenly tense, and I looked down at her, eyebrows raised, but she quickly let go of me and pressed herself up against the wall.

“Her room is the last on the left—” A loud crashing sound echoed down the corridor and Hana sucked in a deep breath, “I—I can’t go closer, I’m sorry, I should walk you there, but I—”

“It’s fine, Hana.” I stopped her rambling, offering her a comforting smile. Hana gulped loudly and nodded, looking down at the floor, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

She nodded quietly and slipped past me, figure tense, “I’ll see you at dinner then, Y/N. Thank you for the gifts.”

“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” I bowed my head back as Hana curtsied, and turned back towards the end of the corridor, wondering why Hana wouldn’t walk me to Ara’s door. I thought she would like to see the girl, but perhaps I was wrong. I sighed and took off again, but the closer I got, the louder the voices were from one room. As I came face to face with the door Hana told me about, the mentioned voices seemed to come from inside, loud and angry. It was mainly a male voice, shouting about something he didn’t care about as he claimed that it was his job and nobody could stop him from doing it, and then, a shrill feminine voice shouting back that he couldn’t do this, that he was hurting people and ruining lives. I gulped and was about to walk away when the feminine voice shouted for the man to get out, and suddenly, the door was ripped open and I found myself face to face with a fuming man, who’s sharp eyes looked like they could kill anyone if he stared at them long enough. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched as he took me in. I glanced behind him and found a shorter girl, crying, as her big brown eyes stared back at me. Why were all the girls crying here? Suddenly, the man hissed, and I straightened my back, giving him a glare.

“What do you want?” He snapped, glaring me down.

“Is that Ara?” I asked as I glanced at the girl again, who was quick to wipe her tears away and pat her short hair down.

“What do you want from her?” The man now blocked my path, chest puffed out and stare pinning me to my place. But that wouldn’t work on me, I have been facing scarier looking men compared to him since a young age.

“I would like to talk to her—”

“No, walk along now—” The man didn’t even let me finish my sentence as he cut me off, nose flaring as he became angrier. Perhaps this person was San, Hana did say he never let Ara out of his sight.

“I am here,” I was the one to cut off his words now, taking a step closer as we stared each other down, “to talk to Ara. Whether you like that or not, it will happen, pirate. Step aside.”

The man scoffed and narrowed his eyes at me, sneering, “We aren’t in your fucking palace, Princess, you won’t command me around. Do you even know who I am?”

I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Do I have to know? Clearly, you are a very overbearing person who’s getting on my nerves right now. You should do what I ask while I’m being nice, pirate.”

“Listen here, spoiled brat—”

“That is not how you talk to a Princess!” Ara shrieked and before the man or I could react, she was by his side, pulling him away from me. I watched the two with narrowed eyes, glaring at the man as he scoffed, but looked at Ara when she grabbed his bicep, “San, treat her with respect, she’s royalty. The next Queen.”

“I don’t give a fuck about who she is.” He chuckled, but it was humorless. Ara bit her lower lip and spare me a quick glance before she took a deep breath.

“San, please—”

“I said no, Ara, you’re not going with her.” San snapped, and shook Ara’s grip off himself, “So that she can feed more bullshit into your head?! Like Taeri has? No, Ara. Get lost, Princess.”

San’s eyes snapped onto me, glaring as he went to slam the door in my face, but before I could react, Ara was stood in front of him, standing in the doorway, and not allowing him to close it. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as Ara grabbed San’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. San’s body grew tense and his jaw clenched as the girl clung onto him.

“Please,” Ara’s voice was barely over a whisper, I strained my ears to hear her words, “I—I will stop. Everything. San, please, let me walk with her. No more Taeri, I will never talk to her again, I promise just—let me talk to the Princess. It’s my only chance to be around royalty, you know that.”

San swiftly grabbed Ara’s nape, leaning slightly down so that they would be eye to eye. He raised his right hand and pointed his forefinger at the woman, “You better keep your word, angel, or else you will regret it.”

Ara nodded wordlessly and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, San released her and stepped back, sharp eyes falling on me. His demeanor seemed to change, he almost looked calm, almost. He pointed his finger at me, “You have twenty minutes with her.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I grabbed Ara and pulled her out of the room, slamming the door after ourselves. My blood was boiling as I took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation and the relationship these two seemed to have. Ara was an anxious mess next to me as she fidgeted with her fingers and when I glanced at her, she gasped.

“I am so sorry, Princess, he shouldn’t have treated you like that nor spoken to you like that! San has issues controlling his temper, I can assure you that he didn’t mean any of that—” I placed a hand over Ara’s shoulder, she quickly averted her eyes.

“Do not apologize for him, Ara, and do not defend him when he behaves like that with you. He meant everything he said, no need to try and turn his words around.” I couldn’t help but feel aggravated as Ara chewed on her lower lip, suddenly bowing deeply.

“I apologize profusely, Princess, this is certainly not the way I hoped to see you for the first time—” She suddenly sniffed and my heart clenched, “I am so embarrassed right now, I can’t even put it into words.”

I sighed and grabbed Ara’s hand, making her stand up straight. I offered her a small soft smile, raising her chin up as her eyes were filled with tears, “Your actions are admirable as many would’ve cowered in front of him. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let us walk then…”

Ara forced a smile onto her face as she stood next to me, and we took down the corridor. I had no idea where we could walk to, but perhaps going to Wooyoung’s room for starters was a good idea. If she didn’t leave her room often, I didn’t know if bringing her on the deck was too smart, maybe it would make San leash out on her again, and I didn’t want that to happen.

“My name is Y/N, Hana told me you would be singing after dinner tonight?” I spoke up when the air was filled with tension. Ara’s shoulders were suddenly pulled back, her demeanor changing scarily fast, as a very charming smile appeared on her lips.

“Yes, Princess Y/N, I shall be your entertainer tonight, my name is Im Ara.” She curtsied quickly and I chuckled, intrigued by her change of character.

“Have you entertained aristocrats or royalty before?” I asked curiously, her attitude way too professional. It certainly didn’t seem like this would be her first time speaking to important people.

“You would be the first one, Princess Y/N.” Ara bowed her head slightly and I looked at her surprised as we reached Wooyoung’s room. It was on the other end of the corridor from San’s room.

“What is an entertainer and a beautiful lady like you doing on a pirate ship?” I asked, genuinely curious, as I pushed Wooyoung’s door open, the room empty. He was always absent before dinner, I wondered where he disappeared to every day. Ara seemed to tense because of my question as I led her inside, suddenly embarrassed about the mess in the room. My things were thrown all around the room, dresses falling out of the briefcases messily, and my paintings were laying around on the floor. Ara took in the sight surprised, but when we made eye contact she quickly masked it with a pleasant smile and placed her hands behind her back.

“I was kidnapped by San.” The look on her face didn’t match her words, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Ara, waiting for her to tell me the real reason. But when she just continued staring at me with an emotionless smile on her face, my stomach dropped.

“He—you what?” I asked shocked, and Ara’s smile fell as her face turned solemn.

“I was walking home from the Inn I worked at one night. My boss warned me that Ateez were in town, but I thought I was safe, that nothing would happen to me. That’s when San kidnapped me to sell me off to a wealthy man, but as you can see…I had the misfortune of staying with him—”

“This is horrible!” I gasped as I placed a hand over my mouth, watching her in horror as Ara seemed unaffected by whatever she was saying. Like she had accepted her fate.

“I begged him to let me stay with him, I wanted this,” She sighed, her shoulders slouching forward, “Trust me, Princess, staying here and living with him is a lot better than whatever fate was waiting for me once I was sold.”

I shuddered just at the thought of getting sold off by someone, “Does he do this often?”

Ara chuckled humorlessly, “It’s one of the many businesses he gets by, we were just arguing about it earlier before you came. I don’t understand why I bother to try to change his mind, it’s fruitless. But I—I can’t just stand by and watch as he ruins so many lives—not when I went through that. Not when I know the kind of thoughts which cross your mind during those moments, the dread which fills your body, the despair and uncertainty of what will happen to you. I have to stop him, Princess, I’m trying so hard, but he’s—too strong. He holds too much power, and he doesn’t care at all about the consequences of his actions.”

“He seems to care, since he gave in so quickly to you.” I muttered and Ara shook her head sadly.

“He only gave in because he got something out of it.” I gulped at Ara’s words, feeling the weight of them.

“Will you—stop? What you were doing before, whatever that is?” I inquired quietly, and suddenly there was a glint in Ara’s eyes, but she quickly masked it as she frowned, looking around with fake sadness etched onto her face.

“It’s best if I don’t bother a Princess with such topics, isn’t it?” I smiled, understanding the hidden message in her words, and hummed, looking around, eyes falling on my gowns. I looked back at Ara, noticing her gaze on the gowns too. I smiled and walked up to the briefcase, picking up a beige colored cotton gown, glittering golden like stripes decorating the long sleeves of it. Ara’s eyes widened as she stared at it longingly. I let my eyes run over her form before I looked down at the gown, mentally comparing her frame to my gown. She was slightly taller than me, but seemed to be around the same dimensions as myself, so, with a big smile I extended the gown towards her. Ara’s eyes widened as she looked at me, taking a step back taken aback.

“What—what are you doing, Princess?” She asked alarmed. I chuckled and approached her, pulling her hands from behind her back.

“The entertainer must look stellar when on stage, especially if they have a Princess in their audience.” Ara’s eyes widened as she grabbed the gown, hugging it to her chest, “I think it will fit you nicely, Ara.”

“Thank you, my Princess,” Ara bowed her head deeply, beaming with happiness, “I will forever be grateful and indebted to you.”

“Oh, well,” I chuckled and waved her words off, “you could start by simply calling me Y/N, and I suppose your debt would instantly disappear.”

“I could never do that, Princess!” She gasped and watched me as if I had two heads, “You deserve respect and to be properly addressed to.”

I chuckled and pretended to think, “Well in that case, keep the gown. It’ll show just how grateful you are.”

Ara’s eyes widened and she bowed again, making me bow back, alarming her as she quickly pushed me to stand up straight. I giggled and Ara huffed, as if I had been a disobedient child antagonizing her. She seemed lovely and very well mannered.

“I shall go and get ready, I look forward to seeing you later, Princess.” Ara curtsied and I nodded with a smile, waving at her as she left the room. As I went to close the door after her, I heard a high-pitched squeal echo down the corridor, making me chuckle to myself as I debated whether I should wear or not a representative dress of the Oh family to make Ara even happier.

I didn’t want to out dress Ara as I had given one of my most beautiful gowns to her, but I knew she would absolutely love seeing me in the Oh family’s colors, therefore I chose to wear a dress which has been passed down for generations. It was a cotton dress, dark blue with silver highlights and a belt decorated with royal opals. The dress was heavy and different from the gowns in our times, but it always had a special place in my heart. I couldn’t leave it at the castle, secretly hoping that I would have a reason to wear it at least once. And Ara offered me just that chance, making me feel excited as I pulled the front strands of my hair back and tied them into a braid. The dress was warm and I was thankful as I had been feeling rather cold since coming back downstairs, the fabric sitting snugly against my body. Once I was ready, I left the room and searched for the kitchen a little confused, each room’s door was closed on this corridor and no loud chatter came from the insides. Pirates wouldn’t be so quiet at dinner, right? And then, just as I was about to give up, I remembered the corner Taeri and Yunho rounded yesterday, and I headed towards it, finding a new set of stairs leading downstairs. I grabbed the skirt of the dress and raised it above my ankles as I carefully made my way downstairs, finding less doors on this hallway. And just as I took off towards the right, the louder chatter I expected echoed down the hallway, a cacophony of sounds as I couldn’t make out one comprehensible word. The door was closed, yet it wouldn’t make much difference if it wasn’t, in my opinion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pulling my shoulders back as I exhaled. I knew everyone would be staring at me, especially when I was wearing such a dress screaming of my origins and wealth. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for Ara, that thought would stop me from running back to Wooyoung’s room. The woman seemed so sad and tired, I felt like this was the least I could do to cheer her up. She held so much respect and admiration for me as we talked, my heart would break if I were to disappoint her. So, masking all emotions from my face, I placed my hands in front of me and straightened my back as I pushed the door open, pretending that I was walking inside the throne room during one of my mother’s extravagant balls. You don’t look at anyone, you don’t make any faces. You can’t hear and you can’t see. You focus on how you walk and hold your chin high, shoulders pulled back. Your one and only mission is to reach your chair next to your mother. These were the words I was taught in etiquette class, I never thought I would have to actually remind them to myself. Especially not on a ship infested with pirates.

As I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me, startling me, but I didn’t react. The chatter continued for another split second, until the vast kitchen went completely silent, all eyes on me. My blood froze over and suddenly I started sweating as all the pirates stared at me, some openly gawking. I didn’t know where to sit. I didn’t even know if I was welcomed here. The older pirates watched me as if I were a prize, something they could play with until they got bored of. It made my skin crawl as I stepped further inside, eyes sweeping over the long table. There weren’t many vacant places, and I noticed Wooyoung’s absence from it. Where was he if he wasn’t having dinner? Seonghwa had a pleasant smile on his lips as he nodded briefly in acknowledgment, however, the cat-like eyed man next to him didn’t look too pleased as he took in my attire. He was the Captain. Hana was nestled close into Yeosang’s side as she sat in between him and Taeri, who’s lips were pulled into a huge smile as she stared at my dress. Yunho was grinning as he nudged the man sitting next to himself, who’s mouth had fallen open at the sight of me, and I could see the rice he still hadn’t chewed, making me scrunch up my nose in disgust. He quickly closed his mouth and looked away embarrassed, pressing a ring clad hand against his face in an attempt to hide himself from my eyes. I almost chuckled as Yunho started whispering something to him, making the man’s eyebrows furrow as he elbowed him. I noticed San wasn’t here, nor was Ara. Would she not sing tonight? Did I mess up by interfering with their fight and by giving her the gown? My heart beat picked up as anxiety coursed through my veins; perhaps coming here was a mistake. And then, suddenly, I heard dishes clanking loudly, and suddenly, Wooyoung’s head popped into view as he gaped at me blatantly. He threw his hands out and gesticulated towards my body, face scrunched up in shock and mild disgust.

“What are you wearing?!” He asked alarmed, eyes taking in the ancient piece of clothing, “What if food gets on it?! That’s anci—”

My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung sharply sucked in a breath, cutting himself off. He seemed dumbfounded by his own reaction as he gulped loudly, adjusting his shirt all of a sudden as he averted his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him and stepped closer, his words replaying in my mind. Did he just recognize my dress? Of course, it wasn’t hard to recognize when it screamed of royalty status, but those who weren’t in close contact with the royal families wouldn’t know the real meaning of it, or the ancestry of it. Royalty were taught about each other’s emblems and relics, family heirlooms, and anything which was representative of their family’s name. Unless Wooyoung was seriously invested with royal families stories, he had no reason knowing about the origins of my dress. He couldn’t have so easily recognized it as if it was burned into his memory. Suddenly, someone from the table cleared their throat and spoke up.

“Wooyoung, your food will get cold, come sit and eat,” It was Seonghwa, voice pleasant as he gestured towards the empty seat from across him, “You too, Princess.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa.” I bowed my head and he smiled pleasantly as he glanced around the table, throwing a glare at the pirates who haven’t stop staring, making them quickly avert their eyes. The Captain just sighed loudly and shook his head, grabbing his cup and drinking from it. He almost looked fed up. I looked at Wooyoung, whose face was expressionless as he turned around and walked to his spot, looking back at me lazily.

“Wouldn’t a princess want to sit down while eating?” He raised one eyebrow, making me squint at him, “I bet your fragile legs wouldn’t last for long if you were to stand on your two feet the whole night.”

I huffed as a few pirates snickered, but didn’t let my irritation show as I walked up to Wooyoung, pushing him over to make space for myself. He gasped as he almost fell into the pirate who Yunho had teased earlier. Wooyoung whipped his head around and glared at me flabbergasted. I grinned as I graciously sat down where Wooyoung was supposed to sit, nodding at the pirate next to me who was taken aback by my presence. The man quickly scrambled to pour some wine into my own cup and I chuckled as I quietly thanked him. Wooyoung scoffed loudly and wriggled himself in between myself and the taller pirate next to Yunho, glaring at my profile as I carefully took a sip of the wine, expecting it to taste awful, but it didn’t. It was actually very tasty and almost sweet. I haven’t had wine like this before.

“Of course,” Wooyoung grumbled as he pulled his plate towards himself and away from me, “you came here to show off, didn’t you? Do you enjoy the attention everyone is suddenly giving you? Of course you are, you are a spoiled princess after all.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Wooyoung with a fake smile on my lips, “I love how you answer your own questions, Wooyoung, it’s like you’re talking to yourself.”

The man on Wooyoung’s left suddenly snickered, hiding his face when Wooyoung’s head snapped towards him to glare at him. I chuckled and thanked Yeosang as he handed me a clean plate for dinner. I looked around the table, finding a lot more food than I was expecting. Perhaps the cook made a special dinner since Ara would sing for us tonight. I placed a bit of chicken meat on my plate and a few vegetables which looked very tasty, thanking Hana when she eagerly pushed some rice onto my plate. She looked away shyly when I complimented her lovely outfit. She wore a white dress with floral imprints on it, the orange shawl I have gifted her earlier wrapped around her shoulders tightly. She seemed to be leaning into Yeosang’s side completely, and as the man was finished with his dinner and sipping on his wine, I noticed the protective arm he had around her hips. Hana seemed happy as she ate her dinner, paying attention to the conversation Yeosang was having with the Captain. I quietly enjoyed my dinner, completely impressed by the cook’s talent as rich flavors exploded in my mouth. Everything was so tasty. It seemed even better than the previous days Wooyoung had brought me food. I took a sip of my wine to wash down the meat, and hummed contently. Wooyoung was quiet for once as he carefully ate his dinner, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was holding the silverware correctly as he carefully cut up his meat into equal pieces, and he never rushed as he ate, never putting too much food into his mouth. He chewed slowly and would pat his mouth from time to time with a handkerchief, only grabbing for his cup of wine when he was finished with his food. My eyes narrowed as my thoughts started wandering, thinking of how much etiquette Wooyoung seemed to be aware of. I even dared to think that he was acting like a prince would at the dinner table with his family. When Wooyoung’s eyes fell on me, I quickly averted my eyes and took another gulp of my wine, embarrassed that he caught me staring.

“I didn’t choke despite you wishing for me to do so.” Wooyoung mocked, yet I never wished for that to happen to him, however, I didn’t tell him that.

“Pity,” I muttered over the cup before clearing my throat, “I wonder who the cook is. I’ve been intending to tell them how tasty the food is. You pirates are lucky to have him, otherwise you’d be long dead without him. Especially you, Wooyoung. I bet you’d be the first one to starve to death—”

I couldn’t even finish my sentence before the man next to Wooyoung moaned loudly, barely gulping the food down in his stuffed mouth, “Mate—Wooyoung, you really outdid yourself tonight. I haven’t eaten anything this good like—ever!”

“Thank you, Mingi.” Wooyoung smirked smugly as his eyes fell on me, one eyebrow raised. My mouth fell open, I couldn’t help myself even if it wasn’t princess like. Wooyoung was the cook? And I just accidentally complimented him while also insulting him? I hated how quickly my face flamed up, but I acted as if I didn’t feel it, staring Wooyoung down as he looked at me challengingly.

“And you were saying, princess…” He clicked his tongue loudly and I huffed as I looked away, licking my lips in frustration. I would certainly never hear the end of this, “I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner, the cook, myself, is rather flattered at the moment.”

I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wasn’t for Wooyoung’s sudden proximity. His strong cologne invaded my nostrils as I felt his breath hit my ear, his warmth engulfing my slightly tingling body. I haven’t drank alcohol in long, and it was hot inside the kitchen, it was slightly getting to my head. But I gulped and sat up straighter, turning to glare at Wooyoung. However, I found myself speechless as I was face to face with him, his skin flawless from so close. My eyes fell onto the mole underneath his left eye and I gulped, looking back up into his eyes. Wooyoung watched me curiously, and I felt his fingers sneaking towards my wrist, feeling the fabric of my dress. I looked down the same time he did, my heart racing in my chest. Why was I reacting in this way?

“Why would you wear this to dinner?” He asked in a whisper, looking back up into my eyes. I gulped as I stared into his eyes, suddenly mesmerized by the color of them. Wooyoung had really pretty eyes.

“I promised Ara I would come watch her perform,” I whispered, feeling like a cocoon fell over the two of us as the pirates loud chatter downed out our quiet voices, “I figured wearing something specific for my family would make her even happier. She seemed rather taken by me.”

“Her life purpose was to sing for the royal families and aristocrats,” Wooyoung’s lips pulled into a small smile, I felt his finger graze against my skin, where my bruises were already fading, “She’ll appreciate your gesture, Y/N.”

The breath caught in my throat. Wooyoung has never called me by my name before. As I fought the smile off my face, hating how badly I was blushing, Wooyoung seemed to realize his slip up and he quickly cleared his throat, withdrawing, and looking away. I gulped and reached for my cup of wine quickly, catching Taeri and Yunho’s knowing glances, my body shuddering at whatever those two were trying to imply by the simple look on their faces. Wooyoung was insufferable, there was no way I was starting to take a liking to him. Before I could dwell more on my mixed feelings for Wooyoung, the kitchen door opened, and Ara walked inside. The gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and complementing her skin. Flowers were placed in her short hair and there was a slight red blush to her cheeks, unnatural. Her lips were redder than before and she threw a beaming smile our way. Nobody would be able to tell how she truly felt, her eyes were empty of any emotion and her face was a mask of calmness. My lips instantly pulled up into a huge smile and as Ara’s eyes fell on me, they widened, and she placed her hands over her heart. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, a simple pearl necklace sat around her neck snugly.

“Good evening, lovely ladies and gentlemen—” Ara extended her hand, pointed towards me, “my Princess, Oh Y/N, from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”

She curtsied and I bowed my head, smiling at Ara’s adorableness. She would’ve been so beloved if she would’ve been able to follow her dreams. My mother would’ve certainly loved her for her adequate manners and deep respect.

“Tonight, I, Im Ara, will be your entertainer.” She bowed slightly and the pirates started clapping furiously, everyone seemingly liking the lovely girl. Ara waited patiently for the room to quiet down, I couldn’t help but join in on the clapping, “After my opening act you are all welcomed to requests songs and join me on the dance floor.”

The pirates roared again and I chuckled, looking around impressed. I would’ve never thought I would witness such things one day.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere seemed to get livelier and livelier as the drunk pirates enjoyed themselves. If anyone would’ve told me a week ago, that I would be sitting on a ship full of dangerous pirates, who gather around in the kitchen and sing their hearts out as they drink their sorrows away, I would’ve probably laughed in their face. Ara was like a bright star in the late hours of the night, guiding you through the darkness. She laughed and twirled around, her beautiful voice carrying through the vast room, allowing the pirates to pull her into their arms as they danced around. She was glowing, and when I decided to join the dancing circle, her face lit up even more and her voice rose a few octaves, her song turning even livelier as she sung about a hidden treasure, about a lost woman finding herself while on the hunt for it, and about a rather dumb man who fell head over heels for her, worshipping her as if she were the last woman in the four seas and four kingdoms. The pirates seemed to love this little tale as they joined Ara, their manly voices booming over hers, making me laugh as I was suddenly pulled into a hard chest. My eyes widened when I realized it was the Captain, but the displeased look was gone from his face and his eyes weren’t as sharp as before, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. I chuckled as he made a comment about my dress, before twirling me around until my head was spinning and I had to excuse myself, stumbling into the wall near the exit. As I caught my breath, I noticed movement from the corner of my eyes, head still spinning, and I turned to see who was standing in the doorway. It was rather surprising as San and I made eye contact, his eyes narrowed as he threw me a warning glare, probably telling me to shut up. I didn’t say anything as his eyes fell back onto Ara, who was in the arms of Mingi, giggling and helping him stand up straight as he has had too much wine. If it weren’t for San’s clenched fists, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was bothered by that simple gesture. His face remained emotionless until he sucked in a harsh breath and stormed off, body rigid. Before I could dwell more on the man’s actions, Taeri was gripping my hands and asking me to join her in a dance as the pirates took over with a sailor’s song, Ara just laughing as she continued struggling to dance with Mingi. However, I had to refuse Taeri as my legs were aching, not having danced this much before. The stuffiness of the room was also getting to me as it was making my head spin more, the hotness of the room bringing a flush to my cheeks. When I thought nobody was watching, I made sure to look around, I slipped outside the kitchen and took a deep breath as cool air instantly hit my face. I raised the skirt of the dress above my ankles and carefully padded down the corridor, headed for the stairs. I sighed as my feet felt heavy as I climbed them, yearning for some fresh air. Instead of going to Wooyoung’s room, I went up on deck, raveling in the tranquility around me. The breeze was slow and small, the cool air felt refreshing against my flushed skin. I walked towards the railing and gripped it, staring up at the clear sky. The moon was beautifully reflected in the seawater, ripples disturbing the image as a wave would crash occasionally. I have missed this. Gazing up at the stars as the world was quiet around me.

The soles of my feet felt sore and I stepped out of the high heels I have found nestled underneath my dresses in one of the briefcases. Wooyoung, surprisingly, has packed a lot of my things. Things which I wouldn’t have even considered bringing with myself if I were to come willingly. My thoughts seemed to fixate on Wooyoung as the image of his eyes and that one mole underneath it plagued my mind suddenly, making me sigh as I allowed my head to fall back. My eyes fell on the Evening Star, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Ara. It was bright, beautiful, and so far away. Ara seemed to be a sweet person, but whatever was happening to her because of San was dimming her light. It made me feel helpless that I couldn’t help her in any way, it made my blood boil. How could someone be as horrible as San? Did he not have a mother? A sister? Did he have no respect for women? My throat closed in on me as I forced my thoughts to stop spiraling more about the mistreatment Ara must go through because of that horrible man, and instead, I found myself feeling grateful that the only thing Wooyoung seemed to be doing to me was to annoy me. He fed me since the beginning and even tried to hold a civil conversation at times; there was an attempt at trying to get to know me better. Besides the fact that he was a pirate, who quite frequently dodged his duties, and cooked for his crew, I didn’t know much about him. I wondered where he was from and why he was living this life. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crew, something about the way he held himself and spoke set him apart from the other men. Seonghwa was an elegant man, but his façade would slip frequently, and you could see that he was simply just a man, raised by probably someone very savage. The Captain couldn’t even be compared to Wooyoung, his exterior and behavior were rough. The only person who came close to Wooyoung was Mingi, who’s steps were light and posture always straight, as if it had been grilled into his mind that was the adequate way to carry himself. And yet, Wooyoung dressed in expensive clothes, smelled expensive, and more often than not acted like someone who was raised in posh conditions. His skin was flawless and hands soft, despite handling a sword, no bruises decorated his palms. He spoke freely yet was careful with his words, and I have never heard him cursing. His gaze was intense when he watched you, attentive and analytic, yet never intrusive. Even tonight, I could feel his gaze on me almost at all times. I supposed he was keeping an eye on me since the older pirates were there with us and would look at me like I was a piece of meat. Perhaps Wooyoung’s warning hasn’t been harsh enough.

The wood cracked behind me and I flinched, head whipping around quickly, praying that it wasn’t any of those awful pirates. I probably wasn’t powerful enough to overpower them and with the fiesta happening downstairs, nobody would hear my pleas for help. And to my fortune, it wasn’t a scary pirate. It was just Wooyoung. Which made my heart beat fast all of a sudden, the cool air doing nothing against the flush of my cheeks. He came closer, eyes watching me carefully before a small smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t say anything, but I returned the smile, a bit reluctantly, as he came to a stop next to me. He left little distance between our bodies as he leaned against the railing, looking off in the distance. His gaze seemed unfocused as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes lightly. The soft breeze brushed against his dark hair, and I noticed he let it sit freely for once against his face, framing it. It made his features seem sharper, and I gulped as I looked away, blaming the alcohol for all the things I was noticing about him. We remained silent and the silence was comfortable around us, pleasant even. Wooyoung’s hand rested close to mine against the railing, if I were to extend my pinky finger, it would poke his. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought and I cleared my throat just as Wooyoung turned his head to look at me. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason, so I continued gazing out towards the dark sea.

“Are you feeling alright, Princess?” Wooyoung asked quietly, as if to not disturb our serene surroundings. I looked at him slightly surprised and nodded wordlessly, chewing on my lower lip.

“It felt too packed inside the kitchen, I needed some fresh air.” I explained and Wooyoung hummed, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but gaze back into his, taken by the glimmer in them. His features were soft, for the first time, he didn’t look like he’d say anything malicious.

“The dress Ara is wearing tonight…you have that to her, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked quietly and I nodded with a small smile, “And the orange shawl on Hana, is that yours too?”

“Yes, I gifted them to the girls.” I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders, “I also gave Hana my crayons. Once I’m back in my kingdom I’ll be able to purchase tons of them—unless my mother bans me from drawing or painting ever again, of course.”

My voice turned a bit sour and I averted my eyes when Wooyoung looked at me with confusion, “Did you know Hana loves to draw?”

I knew he wanted to ask about my mother, but I didn’t allow him as I quickly changed the subject. Wooyoung seemed to be thinking for a second before he quickly shook his head no. I smiled and stared at the moon’s reflection in the sea, “All of the ladies living on the ship seem to be lovely. However, Ara—you should take more care of her. Forbid San from going close to her.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, princess,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked away when my heated gaze fell on him, “We don’t meddle with each other’s businesses. Whatever San and Ara do is between the two of them—”

“What if one day you all wake up to find Ara dead?” My voice hardened and Wooyoung’s jaw clenched.

“Then she’ll have a funeral and people who’d mourn her.” I scoffed at Wooyoung’s harsh words, taken aback. His eyebrows were furrowed as he turned to look at me, face pulled into an irritated grimace, “We’re on the sea, princess. You’re surrounded by pirates. You’re on Ateez’ ship, we’re known to be merciless and dangerous. The laws from your kingdom don’t apply the same way here on the sea, on this ship.”

“You should treat people more decently, at least.” I snapped and Wooyoung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Tell me, princess, were you not treated decently while traveling with us?” I bit my tongue, unable to deny his question. I was treated well, a lot better than I expected, but what about all the other people who weren’t? Who died by their swords? Who were tortured and taken away from their familiar lives? What about them?

“This isn’t about me.” I whispered, gulping when Wooyoung shook his head, seemingly annoyed.

“Then who is it about?” He pressed; voice laced with annoyance.

“Everyone else who suffered a fate worse than mine.”

“Quit acting like a kind soul who’s worried for everyone around them.” Wooyoung’s voice hardened and my eyes widened at his next words, “You abandoned your people. You ran away from home, because anything is allowed for a princess. Because you got bored one day of the comfortable life you were living and ran away, proving my point that you’re a spoiled brat. You think anyone can just do that? Leave everything behind and build a new life without consequences? Live comfortably despite having nothing?”

My blood boiled at the hear of his words and my jaw clenched as I took a step closer to him, shoulders squared back as I glared at Wooyoung, “You sure know how to judge and hold a speech about someone who you don’t even know, pirate. I couldn’t care less about what you think of me, but when you make such outrageous claims about me I won’t remain quiet. Not when—someone who’s hiding his true identity preaches to me about what’s right and wrong. I know you’re not a pirate Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me, just a few inches between the two of us. My heart stuttered in my chest, but I paid it no mind as my cheeks flared from anger, glare hardening the longer Wooyoung remained silent. It only further proved my theory. He wasn’t a pirate. I had caught onto his poor façade.

“You’re right,” He cleared his throat, lips pulling into a tight smile, “I am not a pirate.”

“Then who are you?” I quickly questioned, anticipating his answer. My skin suddenly tingled for I was right. I saw through his little act and now he was about to confess his true identity to me. I shouldn’t have felt so victorious over such a small thing, but I couldn’t help myself as my glare disappeared and my eyebrows raised in urgency the more Wooyoung stalled with his answer.

“Jung Wooyoung,” He breathed out, looking uncomfortable as the next words left his mouth, “Crown prince of the South Kingdom. I ran away when I was thirteen on a whim, and joined Hongjoong’s crew. I never wanted to rule, my parents forced me into taking a decision. Be the crown prince or be forever locked away in a castle far from any humans. I craved a life full of adventure and freedom, far from my controlling and ruthless parents.”

My eyebrows were furrowed as I listened to Wooyoung’s story, heartbeat picking up again as I looked at him confused. He was Jung Wooyoung? The next in line of the South Kingdom? He was…he was the thirteen years old Wooyoung I have met all those years ago? A pang, which felt like a dagger to my heart, traveled through my body as I gasped and took a step back, staring Wooyoung down. My eyes ran over him, and suddenly all the repressed memories of the little boy came rushing back. The pretty eyes, the mole underneath his left eye. His loud laughter, which was ear piercing and irritating. His put together attire despite him constantly running and hiding in impossible places. His mischievous nature and his snarky comments. The whispered promise before we parted ways of us conquering the world together, of fighting our hardships together, of a love which would be eternal. And then…not even a week later, the news of the little prince going missing. The many letters his parents sent apologizing and promising to find him, promising to wed us as soon as he’d be found. Jung Wooyoung, the missing little prince, presumed to be dead, yet never quite forgotten.

My lips quivered at the discovery and I shook my head as Wooyoung watched me with a confused expression, reaching out, but I slapped his hand away, “No. You—you’re here preaching to me about what’s right and wrong—about running away when you did the same thing! When you abandoned your duties, when you—when you left a little girl worrying and waiting for your return for her whole life! You made her life miserable with your departure, and you never even considered the repercussions of your actions! You don’t get to talk to me like that, Wooyoung, leave me alone. I don’t need you bringing me meals anymore, I know where the kitchen is. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

I stormed off with an aching heart, tears streaming down my face. My betrothed had been right by my side all this time, almost making me second guess everything I had done in the past three years.

Wooyoung respected my request, for the past two days he hasn’t come near me. I haven’t seen him during breakfast, lunch, nor dinner. I didn’t know where he went when I was in the kitchen, and I wasn’t curious. I was beyond hurt and mad at him. I couldn’t believe the prince I was supposed to marry was the one who’d return me to my mother, make me a prisoner of a life I didn’t want anymore, meanwhile he would return to the life of a pirate where he had no care in the world, no commitments, and no troubles. The thought didn’t sit right with me, it made my blood boil. I couldn’t let that happen; I couldn’t allow Wooyoung slip through my fingers unpunished. But if I wasn’t smart about it, then the both of us would be doomed for a lifetime. Therefore, the plan I had been twisting and turning in my mind, found its perfect side character. Jung Wooyoung, the man who would pretend to be in love with me, get married to me, and then…run away with me. If I were to follow my heart, I would leave him behind, but he could easily find out about my whereabouts and then all my efforts would be in vain. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have much time, the sun was close to setting, anchor already settled as we have reached the coasts of the Sun Rise Kingdom. I was nervous as I paced up and down the hallway in front of Wooyoung’s room. I left the door open when I left, that’s how I knew he was inside. There was no better time than right now to rope Wooyoung up into my plan. There was no time left. I had to act now. So, I pushed the door open and closed it behind me quickly, turning to march up to Wooyoung all confident, back straight and chin held high. But the sight in front of me halted me in my steps, making Wooyoung cry out as his wide eyes fell on me. The pants he wore hung low on his waist, undone, and a black tank top was clutched in his right hand. My strong façade broke as my eyes traveled down his bare torso, skin tan and smooth, muscles hard and worked. His stomach wasn’t lacking either as a six-pack stared back at me. Staring so blatantly was very much so not princess like, but it wasn’t often a man stood half naked in front of me. Let alone a handsome man like Wooyoung.

“Hey!” Wooyoung yelped, suddenly snapping out of his initial shock as he clumsily covered himself with his hands, “Stop staring at me! Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t deserve privacy! This—this is outrageous and unacceptable! Get out, princess—”

“Stop fussing, and shut up.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “You wouldn’t be exposed anymore if you used your brain and put on that tank top you’re holding.”

Wooyoung opened his mouth to fire something back, but realized I was right, and he quickly whirled around as he dressed himself, doing the lace of his pants as I rolled my eyes at his childishness, “What do you want? I thought you said you didn’t want to see me ever again.”

“I changed my mind,” I snapped, watching as Wooyoung faced me again, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment, “You’re not allowed to say no to what I’m about to tell you. And you need to keep your mouth shut about it too, can you do that for me, Prince Jung Wooyoung?”

“Don’t call me that, I haven’t been a prince for—” Wooyoung’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he looked appalled, “You can’t command me around, Princess Oh Y/N, I won’t listen to you or do whatever you want me to do.”

“We’ll see about that later,” I muttered with a smirk as I walked closer to Wooyoung, raising an eyebrow at him, “What’s my name?”

Wooyoung looked at me like I grew two heads all of a sudden, “Are you dumb or something—”

“Say my name.” I snapped, glaring at him when he didn’t want to do what I told him to. Wooyoung scoffed and placed his hands on his hips, looking irritated.

“Princess Oh Y/N.” He finally said, making it sound like it was forced out of him, it might as well been.

“And you’re Prince Jung Wooyoung.” I said firmly, making Wooyoung look at me confused. Uncomfortable silence fell around us as I kept staring at him, hoping that he’d realize by himself, but apparently Wooyoung was too daft for that, “Didn’t you have a betrothed, prince? From the Sun Rise Kingdom?”

“Yeah, I did,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “But it was ages ago, I don’t even remember what she looked like, except for her name which stuck with me, because she loved gazing at the stars at night and her name meant sky. Princess Oh—”

A wide grin spread onto my lips as Wooyoung’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He shakily raised a finger and pointed it at me, making me chuckle amused, “That’s right, Wooyoung. It’s me, I’m that girl. I’m your betrothed. I don’t understand how you didn’t figure it out straight away, you’re quite daft, have you been told that before?”

“I am not, I—” Wooyoung seemed speechless as he exclaimed, huffing loudly, “I just…didn’t make the connection because I made sure to forget everything about my life before I became a pirate.”

I licked my lips, heart clenching weirdly at the knowledge of Wooyoung purposefully wanting to forget about me, “Well now you know. And you’re going to help me out. I don’t want to rule either, not when I know my mother’s men will make my life a living hell. All I want to do is paint and live by the sea, gaze up at the stars at night, and perhaps teach etiquette to little children. And for that to happen, I need your help, Wooyoung.”

The prince’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked very repulsed by the idea of mingling into the life of a royal, but as he was about to refuse me, he looked me in the eyes and paused. I was grinning at him, skin tingling just at the mere thought of my plan working out, of having Wooyoung by my side in the process. Something in his demeanor changed as a light glimmer appeared in his eyes, the mischievous boy I remembered suddenly stood right in front of me.

“What’s the plan, Princess?”

For a second all I could hear was the loud pounding of my heart as my mother’s scrutinizing gaze rooted me to my spot. Nothing really changed around here. The Throne Room was still decorated the same, still as cold as it had always been. If it weren’t for the presence next to me, for the warm hand gripping my hand back tightly, I probably would’ve fainted on the spot from my nerves. I was sweating, I was feeling hot and cold at the same time, and my head was thumping wilder than my heart. This was the day everything would change. I heard Wooyoung suck in a quiet breath next to me as my mother and her most precious advisor took off, headed towards us. Wooyoung and I stood in the middle of the Throne Room, their trek strenuous and nerve-wrecking as they took careful and slow steps towards us, almost as if they couldn’t believe the Princess was back. I couldn’t imagine how Wooyoung felt after so many years of evading his Kingdom and origins to be standing in a Throne Room, about to utter some crazy words. I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second as my mother stopped a few steps away, her advisor standing behind her, glaring harshly at me and at my joined hand with Wooyoung. His palm was sweaty, but our intertwined hands would never allow the other’s hand to slip away.

“Child,” My mother’s voice was hard as it boomed around us, and I gulped drily, “you have returned, I see.”

Wooyoung and I acted at the same time, my body folding in two as I bowed in front of my mother, in front of the Queen. Wooyoung got down on one knee, bowing his head deeply, showing her the utmost respect. After a few seconds of not moving, I dared raise my head and peek at my mother. She watched us shocked and as she cleared her throat she spoke, “Stand up, you fools.”

Ah, yes, her affection never ceased to impress me. I tried to keep off the sour grimace from my face as I stood up straight, shoulders pulled back, and Wooyoung got back to his feet, averting eye contact as he stared at the red carpet we stood on.

“Princess Y/N, how pleasant your presence is,” The advisor spoke up, making my jaw clench, “Almost as if you haven’t been gone for three years. Did you enjoy yourself?”

The insult was on the tip of my tongue, but Wooyoung’s slight tug on my hand stopped me from saying anything to the blatant mocking of the insufferable man. My mother hissed in his direction and raised her hand, that was a first. She adored listening to that monkey of hers.

“I want to hear what this is, right now.” She gestured to Wooyoung and I, glare falling on our joined hands. I allowed a small smile to slip onto my lips, everything carefully planned out last night. The spotlight was on Wooyoung now, he better be a good actor.

“Your Majesty, Queen Oh,” He bowed his head again, bringing his free hand up to his heart, “My name is Jung Wooyoung, the South Kingdom’s crown prince.”

He paused for dramatic effect and I almost rolled my eyes, his words made the advisor gasp as my mother’s eyebrows furrowed, “I know my return is sudden and unexpected, but after the pirates kidnapped me I was lost. I was merely a child, I couldn’t tell wrong from right, I thought their lifestyle was something to envy. That is until I realized my mistake and ran away from them, going into hiding out of fear that they would find me and kill me for good this time as I had stolen gold from them to fend for myself. I lived in a humble town for years, alone and scared most of the time, until…until your daughter, Your Majesty, showed up and reminded me the joys of life and—love. Until she showed me what it felt like to feel loved, to be in love. I am in love with Princess Y/N, Your Majesty.”

My heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s words and I could only hope it had a similar effect on my mother and her advisor, “I—I regret running away, mama, but if I didn’t do it—I would’ve never found the Prince, mama. I love him and I want to marry him. We’ve been sheltering our love for the past three years, scared of returning because we didn’t know what was awaiting for us. We were scared to face your wrath and his parents wrath, scared that you would separate us despite us being betrothed at an early age. I realized how much my people mean to me; and Prince Wooyoung and I want to rule together, we want to join the Kingdoms and become the next King and Queen under your blessings, mama.”

I watched my mother’s strong façade waver for a second as her eyes filled with tears, a reaction I would’ve never expected from her. She didn’t even cry at her own husband’s funeral. She glanced behind her, at her advisor, and I quickly nudged Wooyoung as they weren’t paying attention to us.

“Your Majesty, we—” He looked down sheepishly, cheeks flushed, making me wonder how he made himself blush so easily, “We would like to get married this week, if possible and allowed. I do not wish to separate from the Princess, therefore may I ask for a letter to be sent to my parents?”

“Oh, what a shocking change of events!” My mother exclaimed, pressing a hand over her mouth, the advisor not looking happy at all, “I thought I lost you, my child, forever, and here you are! Doing the right thing! I am so proud of you!”

Of course, she was only proud of me because I was doing what she wanted, not what made me happy. I almost scoffed, but Wooyoung’s quiet sigh grounded me, making me focus on the task at hand.

“I give my blessings for the weeding to happen this week, but your parents also have a say in it, Prince Wooyoung, they haven’t seen you in too long, they might not be as lenient as myself.” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed as she placed her hands in front of her. Of course, she was only lenient because I came back with my betrothed wanting to get married and take over the throne. Pathetic.

“I am sure Your Majesty will be able to work things out with them, they have always had a spot for you, my Queen.” Wooyoung, always the sweet talker and charmer, smiled at my mother with a dashing smile on his face, my eyes staying on his face for a second too long. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and I quickly averted my gaze, suddenly turning red as a tomato. Why was I blushing so hard?

“Very well, Hugo, go prepare a parchment and my pen, this is an urgent matter!” My mother clapped her hands together, and I couldn’t help but allow a victorious smile stretch onto my lips as Wooyoung squeezed my hand once, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling too hard.

“Yes, my Queen.” The advisor muttered with distaste and after a nasty look sent our way, he stormed off. My mother was smiling expectantly at us and I gulped, realizing that we weren’t exactly displaying any joy at the outcome of the events. So, I quickly took action as I turned towards Wooyoung, letting go of his hand and cupping his cheeks as he faced me instinctively.

“Oh, Wooyoung!” I let out a dreamy sigh, faking that I was on the verge of crying, “The world will finally know about love. I’ll be finally your wife—”

“And my Queen.” Wooyoung cut me off, mesmerizing eyes boring into mine. My breath caught in my throat as I gulped nervously.

“And you shall be my King.” For a second, nothing happened, but then Wooyoung’s eyes fell onto my lips and my heart started beating fast again, breath faltering as he leaned in closer. I knew we had to do this because my mother was watching, waiting for us to slip up despite her acts of kindness. So, I closed my eyes when Wooyoung’s lips brushed against mine barely, my whole body flaming as I pushed my head forward, connecting our lips firmly. My mind blanked for a moment and I didn’t dare move, as I felt Wooyoung’s hands on my waist, pulling me closer. My hands on his cheeks tightened and I almost gasped as he suddenly moved his lips, capturing my lower lip in between his as I returned his kiss. His lips were soft and warm, they fit perfectly against mine as we found a rhythm comfortable for the both of us, the feeling of kissing foreign. My skin tingled as the kisses were slow, until I forgot about the presence of my mother and I found myself pressing into Wooyoung’s body, breathing in his strong cologne as his lips picked up their pace, more urgent than before, and my head was suddenly spinning. My fingers dug into his cheeks painfully as Wooyoung’s grip tightened on me as well, lungs screaming for air, yet I couldn’t pull away just yet. Something felt addictive about his lips, about his kisses, about his warmth and his cologne. Wooyoung was the first to break the kiss, much to my dismay, and as I gasped in a deep breath of air, a short but deep kiss was pressed against my lips once again, our eyes slowly opening at the same time. I was breathing hard as we stared into each other’s eyes, Wooyoung’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his hot breath hitting my face in quick puffs. I chuckled, biting my lower lip at the absurdity of the situation. Wooyoung’s eyes quickly looked to the side, but my mother was gone. It was just the two of us. I don’t know when she walked away and I didn’t care. As Wooyoung looked back at me again, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his eye and I had the sudden urge to press a kiss against it, but I willed myself not to. I shouldn’t give in to some absurd urges so early on. His lips seemed slightly plumper and redder than before; I supposed mine looked similar.

“I have to admit you might be a genius, Princess.” Wooyoung whispered and I couldn’t help but grin at him.

“And you might just be the partner in crime I needed, my Prince.” Wooyoung’s lip twitched up into a handsome smirk and I stepped back embarrassed, our hands finding each other again as our fingers intertwined.

My fate might’ve turned out to be even better than I could’ve ever dreamed of. With a Prince like Wooyoung by my side, I knew success would follow. And perhaps a lifetime of adventure, danger, and mischief. And maybe…an abiding love as well.

Next part (divider)

515 notes · View notes

justaaveragereader · 5 months

Text

Use Me

Pairing: FuckBoy!Wooyoung x Afab Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Dom Fuckboy!Woo, Sub!Reader, Unprotected Sex, Choking, Face Smacking, Degradation, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Woo Is Mean Asf🤪…If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know!

A/N: Listen…idk why but Woo has just been clouding my mind😵‍💫, I just feel like Woo would be a honest fuck boy, like he already is honest now, and loves being honest. Can you imagine him being a fuckboy?!? The man wouldn’t be sparing ANY feelings. Also I literally said I was going to take November off, and here I was at working writing a lil some some, if there are any mistakes, sorry😬. I wrote this without my glasses.

You knew that this was wrong, you heart yearned for him, he used you when he pleased, whispering sweet dreams into your ear, and you let him. That’s all he sold you, nothing but dreams, and you bought them everytime. You watched as his eyes ran over the large crowd, stopping once they reached your frame. With one simple look he could break you down in various ways then one.

The crinkle of his eyes, due to that mischievous smile he sported, he was taking you all in. Shifting your body weight from foot to foot you watch as his eyes flicker over to the bathrooms, before looking right back at you. Signaling to you to meet him in the restroom, subtly you make your way to the restroom, excusing yourself from your group of friends, you push your way through the packed crowd, the club lighting shining off your skin. With each step you take, Wooyoung hawks you down with his eyes, drinking in your form, the way you move, the way your chest slightly heaves with anticipation of knowing what’s to come. He's got you wrapped around each individual finger.

Excusing himself from his own friends, he makes his way towards the restroom, following closely behind you. Shutting the door behind him, he braces himself against the door. His sharp eyes drift over to your form that is leaning against the wall right across from him, how can someone make you feel so small? Walking slowly over to you, he stops right in front of you, his body slightly towering over you.

Squatting down to your level, so he could get better eye contact with you, he wanted to make sure your full attention was on him. He didn’t want you looking up to him, he wanted to make sure you understood him, with no room for misinterpretations of things. His intense gaze made your face heat with embarrassment. You both had sung this song various times, danced this dance numerous times. Yet he always made sure he drilled what was going to happen into your head, and made sure that you understood that this would be nothing more or nothing less. Nodding your head letting him know that you are listening closely, and that you understood his every word, he drags you over to the first available stall, not wanting to waste anymore time.

Shoving you in the stall, he quickly locks the door, shoving your chest against the cool metal door, pulling up your dress, moving your soaked panties to the side, as he places sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. Your body so easily submits to him, he’s like a drug, you know he’s no good for you, you know he’s nothing but a user, yet you can’t stay away from him. He's your daily dose, as much as you are his.

Pulling your back flush against his chest, he slowly thrusts into you, causing you to let out a loud mewl. His fingers immediately find your throat, tightening his grip around it. His wet lips brush over your ear, which each deep thrust your body hikes up the bathroom stall door. With your dress around your waist he uses the scrunched fabric as a way to stabilize himself.

“Fuck Woo..” you choke out through a moan. A large grin takes over his face, clearly pleased at every loud sound that leaves your mouth, it helps aid and feed his ego. With one harsh thrust, your cunt clenches hard around him, pulling a loud groan from him, he wraps his hand even tighter around your throat. Cutting your airways off partially

“Do you know what your purpose is? Hm?” He grits out between clenched teeth. There is so much fury beneath his dark eyes yet you miss the storm that’s brewing behind them.

“Your purpose is to satisfy me, and only me.” Gripping the sides of your throat tighter with each word he spits. You let out a choked out noise, your cunt clenching with need, the sounds of his deep voice in your ear, no matter how degrading they are, is enough to make your eyes roll back.

“Isn’t that right?” He spits out, your lack of an answer annoys him, slapping the side of your face lightly, he cocks your head to the side, bringing his face close to yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own, his soft plump lips lightly touching yours.

“I. Said. Isn’t. That. Right.” He says with a harsh slam of his hips in your cunt. Letting out a choked out moan, you scream nothing but confirming words to him. Acknowledging you are nothing but something for him to stuff his hard dick into when he pleases.

Nodding your head swiftly, your forehead rubs against the cold metal stall door. While your heart pulled with each thrust of his, your pussy clenched with need. You wanted Wooyoung all hours of the day, you didn’t care how he came, you just wanted him.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good.” He grits out through clenched teeth, cocking his head back as he picks up speed, the sound of skin slapping echos in the empty bathroom, not even caring if someone was to enter and hear the noises you two created. He had one goal, and only one goal in mind.

Gripping your hips tighter, your body crushed against the door, face completely smushed against it. Wrapping his hand around your waist while the other tugs the bunched up fabric around your waist. Making sure to slam your hips down with each thrust up, making sure to hit that spongy spot over and over again.

“Fuck, Fuck Woo…please.” You rush out, your sweaty hands find grip on the top of the stall door, trying to stabilize yourself. The door rattles from the movement of his thrusts. Gripping your waist tighter, speeding up the pace of his thrust, while keeping the same hard thrust. Your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasm washing over your body with a loud mewl. Your hands grip the door for dear life. Orgasm so intense, tears stream down your face. He thrusts harshly a couple more times, before he pulls out, shooting his cum all over your lower back. Giving his cock a couple more pumps. He slightly leans forward, his nose brushing against your neck, stepping back he tucks himself away, pulling your panties back over to cover your dripping cunt. He doesn’t even wipe the cum off of your back, pulling the dress down, he pats where his cum is sitting on your skin, like a stain, like a temporary tattoo that only he leaves you with, that you wear secretly with pride.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he helps you stand up, unlocking the stall door, as he washes his hands, he looks up, catching your eyes through the mirror. A wicked grin grows across his face. Your eyes grow big and glassy. Looking back down at his hands, your eyes take over him. Taking him in for what he truly is, a user, an abuser, an opportunist, a man who sells you nothing but wishes and dreams, just as he finishes drying his hands he makes his way over towards you, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

“It’s never going to be me…is it?” you whisper out quietly but loud enough for him to hear. With his lips still on your forehead, you feel them stretch into a smile.

“Don't ask questions you already know the answer to.”

DO NOT REPOST.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez angst #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez one shot #ateez oneshot

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jaehunnyy · 10 months

Text

Fight club

Genre: enemies-to-lovers, brother's best friend!au, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: boxing-manager!Wooyoung x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions and a few descriptions of fights, fighting settings, mentions of blood, hits, rude people, swear words, mentions of making out, pet names, kisses, allusions to some lines from the actual movie Fight Club and to Bouncy lyrics, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @cromerteez, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @heesnovia

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

The white, wadded clouds were threatening to cover the ground in sad tears of rain as you were wandering around the strange city you were in, all because of his love for traveling. Your car's engine decided to give up in the middle of the street and there you were, looking for anything that would serve as a roof under your head for the night, until he gave you a sign. Suddenly, your eyes started to beam as you saw a rundown ‘Mtel’ sign, written in red neon lights (one letter obviously missing), one that happened to have a car service on the first floor. You ran there as fast as you could, fearing that it was gonna close or something; and as soon as you got in front of it, you started to wonder if you were in the right place. Two guys were trying to make their parrot talk or something, a few french keys and other tools scattered around the floor as they seemed to be occupied with their pet.

"Uhm… hello?" you dared to talk and get their attention, having two pairs of eyes analyzing you. "My car broke down… and you seem to work with these things so… mind helping me?"

The look they gave each other really had you confused—they were almost surprised with your request.

"Okay, I see how it i—"

"No! We can help, of course. We just… wondered how many other cars we have to repair, you know?" The taller one said, not-so-gently nudging the other one as if he wanted him to support his words.

The younger one jumped a little, smiling weakly as he nodded. "We got it!"

You still couldn't figure if they were honest or not, but you just went with it and let them handle your car as you went to the receptionist to book a room.

The morning came with fast steps as you woke up due to some noisy sounds from outside, disturbing your already not-so-great sleep. You yawned and looked outside the window, seeing how the two mysterious guys were carrying things in their garage. They were getting more and more suspicious, so you grabbed your jacket and went downstairs to see the process. Your car seemed to be intact, they actually put some effort into changing the color of it too into a matte one, which you weren't opposing to at all.

"Is it done yet?"

They looked at you, both trying to cover the car as much as they could as you were approaching it.

"No! Don't touch it! Go eat and then you can come see it." the one with the purple highlights said once again. "Oh, and we're Jongho and Yunho, by the way." He said, a gummy smile taking over his face as you nodded softly and introduced yourself.

As soon as you left the room, they sighed.

"We're screwed. We are supposed to be undercover policemen, not mechanical engineers!" Jongho scolded Yunho, as the oldest sighed softly.

"Then go and tell her this! I actually think we even did a great job… Even our parrot agrees."

"We'll see about that. And let’s hope she doesn’t call the police on us!"

Said and done. You came from the little diner, looking at your now covered car. It seemed promising.

"Tadaaaaa! Here is your car, fresh and new." Yunho said, taking the sheet off of your shiny car.

"Thank you so much guys! Money won't thank you enough for that." you went and excitedly opened the car's door, only for something heavy to drag you down slowly—it was the car's door.

"...I guess no money for us," Jongho said, head down in shame as he couldn't look you in the eyes. "I told you, stupid."

You were still in shock as the door was now standing on the ground, looking at the two boys. "Mind telling me what’s this about?"

"This… is not our job, Y/n, we're sorry for lying to you." Yunho said, trying to reach for you but you went outside, leaving them to wallow in self pity.

This was all because of your stupid companion, one that wasn’t even accompanying you right now, when you needed him the most. You threw your hair back in frustration, going around the busy streets you didn’t even know. It kept getting darker, and the few houses you saw were not giving you any comfort. You were in trouble, in a run down neighborhood you wouldn't even dream of. A blue-haired guy showed up at some point, and as crazy as you must have looked, you followed him into an alley. When you saw him suspiciously entering a back door; you rushed inside just before it could close. The inside was lit by some yellow lights and you swore you could hear loud cheers coming from the basement. You went to the first door you saw and opened it, forgetting about the personal space for just a while, until you saw a long-haired brunette surrounded by money. Oh, and having a rolled-up bill between his teeth. If you weren't in need of help, you would exit the door as fast as you entered it. Feeling that someone was staring at him, he looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow when he saw your unfamiliar face, putting the money in the bag and hiding it under his desk as fast as he could.

"Robbery?" he asked, eyes continuously on the money bag you were amazed of.

"Listen, dude. I'm lost in this hell of a district, my car is screwed by two liars and I just want to find a way back and go home. My last intention is to rob you."

He wore an unfazed look on his face, almost like he didn't understand a thing of what you said; he was getting on your nerves more.

"Also, what kind of people ask someone if they are gonna rob them? And how the fuck do you have so much money?"

He smirked as soon as you mentioned the money—if you looked close enough, you could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes.

"If you wanna know how, I can show you right now. Follow me."

What did you have to lose? You were already lost in your thoughts, you didn't have the energy to say no—so you followed him. As soon as you got inside the room, you noticed the pleasing decorum, but also the fighting ring in the middle of it. And after you took some time to look around and take in the new surrounding, your eyes met his.

"Sa—"

Before you could even finish anything, he was on the floor, mouth full of blood as your eyes widened, wondering what the fuck he was doing there—the one who made you get lost, the one who brought you there. Before you could speak again, you saw the money guy hurry in San's direction, as he got seated on a chair, an exhausted and hurt look on his face.

"What the fuck got you that distracted? You literally let him hit you!"

"Wooyoung… her… protect her…" he raised his hand weakly, finger pointing to you.

"Ha? Her? You know the mysterious I got lost girl?"

"That girl is my sister, Wooyoung!"

Oh.

"Shhh, calm down. Don't waste your energy. C'mon, drink a bit of water, and go back on the ring." he said, splashing half of the water bottle on your brother's face while trying to look unaffected. I didn't sign up for this, he thought, though there was nothing he could have done—they really needed the money.

The cheers only got louder when San returned to the ring, while you tried to make your way in the crowd, squinting your eyes to see something between the pink hair strands of a tall man in front of you.

"You stole my place." you turned back to face a built man, anger visible on his face as you blocked his view—and stole his place.

Words got stuck in your throat as you swallowed the lump inside of it, anger getting over your senses. "What did you just say?"

"I said that you stole my place and that I expect you to go back!" he raised his voice more and your eyes shut together, your fist ready to throw a punch, before you felt a strong arm dragging you behind them—the brunette again.

“She’s with me." he growled, dragging you next to him as you were worriedly looking at your brother. "You're going to have to win double the amount of money for this, San." he mumbled.

Another hit on the ring and he was completely out of it, the three seconds passing and the bells letting the public know who the winner was—and much to his friend's disappointment, it wasn't San.

"No way. No way this is happening. He lost because of you!" he pointed at you, hitting his chair with his foot until it fell down.

You were already overwhelmed by everything you witnessed, tears beaming at the corners of your eyes as your brother came to the two of you.

"Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go, Wooyoung! For once!" he said, tiredness audible in his voice as his breath was hitched and slow.

"That's my job, San. And you were supposed to help me, help us." All Wooyoung could do after this was frown, before he left the building to go get some air.

You looked at your brother and dragged him somewhere far from the looks of the curious ones, hitting his chest slightly.

"What the fuck are you doing here, San? Is this the traveling you loved? Is that what our parents would have wanted you to become?"

He looked down, avoiding your stare as he couldn't look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me you needed money?! I would have gotten a job to help you!"

That's when his eyes met yours, finally hearing his voice in the two days you've been separated.

"The first rule of Fight Club…" he started, his gaze becoming stern: "… is you don’t talk about Fight Club.”

He genuinely annoyed you.

"And what are you doing here in the first place?"

"I was trying to find a way to cope with everything that happened after my brother left me so he could go fight some random people."

Auch. That hurt worse than a kick, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Y/n… C'mon, you can stay with me from now on."

You didn't want to give in, you couldn’t imagine yourself having to stand Wooyoung's tantrums, yet it was better than wandering alone in an unknown city—so, you did what you thought was right and listened to your brother. And maybe staying so much with him (and his friend you won't talk about), watching his matches, that might have opened new horizons for you. You were now having dinner with them, clearing your voice before letting it be heard.

"You know… I wanna join the Fight Club too." you said softly, waiting for any sort of reaction from them; and there were two different ones—Wooyoung's eyes lit up immediately as he saw more money coming his way, whilst San was looking terrified.

"No."

"Yes!"

They said in unison, glaring at each other.

"I'm not letting her join this, it's dangerous, Woo!"

Wooyoung seemed to absolutely ignore the boy as he smiled at you, the first time you have seen him smiling outside of matches San won.

"I will help you become the best fighter out here. We're starting tomorrow!"

All you could do was smile excitedly as San face-palmed himself.

Said and done. You were already one month into practicing, and Wooyoung kept on finding matches for you, the next one being in two days. You were inside the little space he claimed as your training room, punching the innocent punching bag as you heard the door behind you. You thought it was Wooyoung and smirked, turning to face him and kicking, only for your fist to stop right in front of your brother's face.

"Oh… hey San." you smiled innocently whilst all he could do was sigh.

"If you don't get along with Wooyoung, why do you keep on doing this? I didn't even agree!"

You looked at him, deciding to ignore the judging look he threw your way. "I think I am capable of making my own decisions and I sure as hell don’t need my brother to make them for me."

"Do you think our parents would be proud that their daughter chose this path?"

This time, you snapped.

"Maybe you should have thought about this before choosing it first. You are my only role model, San, what do you expect from me?"

"I'm sorry, babes. If that's what you really want… I promise I will support you. But please take care." he said, arm wrapping around your waist as he dragged you into a hug. You hugged him back, the nice feeling of longing surrounding you—before a fake cough snapped you out of it.

"Sorry to interrupt your brother-sister moment, but you're distracting her."

"So now I can't spend time with my sister?"

"Not when she has a match coming. Also, she's getting as good as you. I won the lottery with you, guys."

You smiled at his praise, though he seemed to have something else in mind.

"I didn't like you at first, you know?" he said, looking directly into your eyes.

"I know, it was mutual." you said, a cheeky grin taking over your face as you waited for his response.

"Don't get too excited, I still don't like you. But I like the money you bring." he winked, watching as San's eyes darkened.

"Wooyoung," he growled, "if you think I'd let you talk to my sister like this, you're wrong. We're not your fucking bank!"

Wooyoung flinched a bit at his friend's words, pulling his glasses on his nose and trying to act unaffected when, in fact, he wasn't. Since you joined, he found himself thinking if he was doing the right thing, if you two thought he used you for money—which San kinda confirmed; but he couldn't let these emotions take over him, so he did what he thought was best—left.

He left and you two didn't see him again. Match time was right there and he was nowhere to be seen; and as much as you wanted to lie and act indifferent about it, you kinda missed his antics, his nag, perhaps you missed him. This was maybe, the reason why as soon as you stepped into the ring, you started to have an uneasy feeling. He wasn't there to support you, to hype you up, and it left you with a bitter taste. Despite this feeling, you still tried your best. Tried to avoid your rival's hits, tried hitting more, and you actually thought you were gonna win. That was until you spotted the pair of ebony-like eyes you waited for, being the last thing you saw before everything turned black.

That wasn't the sight Wooyoung expected to be welcomed with. He forgot about the two police officers behind him, running straight to the ring and following San who jumped inside immediately.

"Stop hitting her! Stop fucking hitting, she passed out!" he shouted, shoving the person off you, just to discover it was exactly the reason why the cops were there.

"Yunho, Jongho, it's him!"

Before he could do anything, San pushed both of them and took you in his arms, running to the infirmary as fast as he could. Yunho and Jongho were fast to catch the guy before he could run away, whilst Wooyoung was quick to follow San, who let you on the bed while waiting for the nurse.

"San!" he said, catching his breath as the eyes of the older one sent ice arrows down his spine.

"Don't you dare get closer to us! She was your responsibility Wooyoung, you were supposed to take care of her!" he said, hands on Wooyoung's shirt as he shaked the younger.

"I know San, I fucking know I fucked up! But her rival… he was following you San, I had to let Jongho and Yunho know that you were in danger… I wanted to protect you two…"

"I don't care about myself, Wooyoung. I only care about her and you failed. You failed us and our trust as well."

Maybe it took some harsh words for Wooyoung to realise that he put you in danger, and that he actually cared about you. About his friend, and unexpectedly, about his friend's sister as well.

"San… I'm sorry, please give me one more chance! I'll be more careful and—"

"She's out of this, Wooyoung. We are out of your damn Fight Club."

Wooyoung looked down, tears beaming at the corners of his eyes as he couldn't blame you. He just wanted to get closer with you, heck, he might have been attracted to you all this time—yet look where ignoring his emotions took him.

"You have my number if you change your mind, San."

And with this, he turned in the opposite direction, preparing to leave again. He wanted to be there when you wake up, he was aware that he distracted you when he came in way too late to your match. He wanted to hold your hand and start being there for you, but San was right. He didn't deserve none of you. His wish for money made him realise what he was truly lacking—love.

"San," you whispered, your weak voice being heard by both boys in the room: "San, you were too harsh… He wanted to protect you…"

Wooyoung's heart swelled a bit at your words, ignoring San's warning and sitting on the bed next to you. Right when your brother wanted to tell him to leave, his best friend was faster.

"I'm sorry I was late to your match, Y/n. I wish I was there for you."

"It's okay, Wooyoung. I wish I did better."

"No, Y/n! I'm proud of you nonetheless. You two are already the best for me."

Seeing Wooyoung hug you made San's anger dissipate into the void, joining as one hand caressed your hair and the other one patted his friend's back softly.

Your bond became even stronger after that day. While you met their friends (the ones who screwed your car) and realised how nice they actually were, your feelings for Wooyoung also grew stronger. You thought it was the same for him. The way his hand would softly brush yours, the random forehead and cheek kisses you were given, they had to mean something. And there you were now, plopped on a blanket as the night sky was shining above you.

"Isn't it pretty?" you asked him, looking at his flawless face and brushing his long hair with your fingers.

"It would have been even prettier if I watched it with my girlfriend."

Your heart remained still.

"Your girlfriend…? Do you have one?"

"Not yet, but I am about to. I know it's been quite of a long ride for us, but I'm deeply in love with you. And I know you feel the same, Yunho told me."

You looked at him flabbergasted, hands stopping on their track as he dragged you on top of him. You didn't know if you should be mad at Yunho, or glad that he eased the situation.

"Pfft, do you really believe Yunho? What if he lied?" you teased, grabbing his cheek softly as he looked at your lips.

"Well, let me figure it out." he said, before his soft lips met yours.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment, smiling a bit when his nose brushed your own.

"Thank you for making me realise that love is more powerful than money, babe." he whispered, "I'm still going to be San's manager. And you are going to help me."

You nodded, pressing a kiss on his chin as you laid your head on his chest.

San's next match was going to be interesting. Ten minutes before it started, yet nor you or Wooyoung were anywhere to be found. He was searching for you with a water bottle in his hand, tank top tight on his chest as his muscles flexed under it.

"Wooyoung? Y/n? Where the fuck are you?"

As he stepped further into the darkened hallway, he heard your giggles and sighed—he was already growing tired of how big of a menace you were as a couple.

"For God's sake, can you stop making out and come watch me? I have a match to win!"

You and Wooyoung could only laugh harder as your brother sighed for the nth time that day, but it soon became a chorus of joyful giggles as he joined you two.

"We're coming!"

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 month

Text

Girlboss

Corporate Worker Jung Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: Why would his angel hide this from him? Especially when he'd been waiting day and night for this day to come- no, especially when he'd give her the whole world on a silver platter, all she had to do was ask. For Jung Wooyoung, lived to serve- lived to serve her.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.2K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: The amount of oneshots I've written to cope with exams is frightening- anyway, @edenesth- GOOD LUCK

"What are you doing here?"

His head snapped up at the question, eyes widening at the realisation of being caught, a crimson hue spreading across his face, the same face he had tried to hide- with the classic glasses and cap duo.

"I … um…" Pulling down his glasses he blinked at her, "Sorry miss, I don't know you." with that he went back to texting- or rather pretended to do so. Ignoring the sound of her sitting across him, the screech of the chair was muffled by the people around them.

Placing her bag on the table she hummed, leaning forward to get a better look at his all-black choice of attire, "Are you twinning with me or are you wearing black because you wanted to hide?"

A cheeky smile broke past his 'cool' exterior, a chuckle following suit before he pulled off his glasses, neatly placing them on top of his cap, " A bit of both, boss."

"I'm not your boss, Wooyoung."

"Well," he leaned closer, enough for only her to hear his words, "Not yet." His hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together with ease, no resistance was met, which meant she was in a good mood, which meant she had good news, which meant the rest of the day would perhaps be good too- well, at least in terms of chronology and the cycle of 'luck be with you'- whatever that meant when San told him to slip in the small 'lucky cat' keychain in her purse.

"True." she hummed in response, looking around the almost empty cafe, smart, he chose the place across her office, the office where she had an interview, but she did instruct him not to follow her, so why was he here?

"So, you got good news, they said they'll definitely get back to you?" his words were quick, fast-paced and laced with excitement, honestly, he had never been excited about his own work as much as he was for hers- possibly because he had been present during the late nights and endless hours of research, managing life, struggling to maintain those pesky grades all the while trying to be an active and emotionally available partner. What he did not expect was for her not to tell him about her interview date, she had invited him for everything, else convocation and whatnot, so why keep this a secret?

"Even better, we discussed my salary as well." she smiled at him, brighter than the stars he'd love to watch with her at night, warmer than the summer sun that he loved.

This was it, it was exactly this very reason that had him go all spy mode early in the morning and follow after her. He'd been awake before she slipped out of bed, he'd been awake when she came out of the shower, he'd been awake when she was trying to quietly make himself breakfast and he was awake when she came up to his side and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, mumbling an 'I love you'. He had thrown off the blankets, already dressed for the mission - he changed when she was in the kitchen- putting on the cap and glasses he had made sure to follow her discreetly, to not take his car but use public transport, to reach the destination before she could- while she was busy looking for a place to park, he had already found a nice seat across the road at the cafe, making sure to have a view of the entrance of the office- what he did not expect was for her to catch him. For when she did, he was actually formulating a text, calculating if she was free by now, to surprise her and tell her to come into the cafe across the street where she'd arrive and be greeted by the loving sight of him and her favourite English breakfast.

"That's great." giving her hand a little squeeze, before he let go and sighed, "I just…I don't wanna ruin the mood but…" sighing he averted his gaze, was the question really worth it? Should he bring it up? This was about her achieving a huge milestone in her life, about how she was going to start something new, something she'd been striving to achieve- maybe she didn't want him to be there because it would be better that way, maybe she wanted some space, maybe he was holding her back, maybe-

"I was…scared," she whispered, reaching for his hand again, clasping it in both of hers, pulling him closer so he was leaning across the table, much like her, "I was scared of disappointing you, so I didn't wake you up and-"

"Disappoint me? my sweet angel, if anything, you are the reason why I get up for a nine-to-five job every morning, how could you ever disappoint me? Do you think I'd be upset if you got the job at the same company as mine?" Frowning at her, he scanned her features, trying to look for any signs of discomfort or unease, had he been not expressing himself enough? Had he not been telling her how much he was proud of her enough? Had he been a bad boyfriend-

"I was too afraid of rejection, Woo, I didn't want to come out of that office to see the disappointment on your face- I know how bad you want us to work in the same office." She smiled, sensing his inner turmoil, she could tell when he'd be debating on choosing his next words carefully, which was rare because Wooyoung's chattering would often be quicker than his brain could formulate the pros and cons of the chatter.

"I- how could they reject you, you're literally the coolest person I have ever met." he gasped, pulling back with a scoff, "I'd personally go in there and knock some sense into Hongjoong."

Shaking her head at his comment she chuckled, "Only you would think that is a great quality for a job applicant." Smiling, she waved to the waiter who was looking for the only table that had ordered the special breakfast at noon.

"I know you would- but to celebrate I got us-," leaning back she thanked the waiter to place the platters of English breakfast, four to be exact, four platters? He thanked the two before speed-walking away, probably presuming the two were insane.

"Um…did you order an English breakfast too?" she asked, eying the food, only for him to sigh and shake his head at her antics.

"I was going to surprise my angel with a nice warm meal- guess we're so in love we're basically ruining each other's surprises." With that, he pushed a platter towards her and a glass of juice, "Eat up lovely, the corporate world is not for the weak, and my girl ain't no one to be messed with."

Her heart almost leapt out of her throat and into his palm at the statement, to be all snug and all his, watching him slice and dice her breakfast into smaller pieces for her, now literally standing above the table to do so, he really was a blessing and she was grateful to whatever entity out there for gracing her with him.

"Imma call you snookum's at work." "I'll report for harassment." "Damn, tough crowd."

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

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songmingisthighs · 10 days

Text

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. iii

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.5 k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : I'M FINALLY UPDATING THIS HOLY SHIT i would like to thank stress and my manic episode for making me abandon sleeping at 4 am and just went nyoom with this

a/a/n : btw happy black day 🫶🫶

buy me coffee ?

The three weeks that passed after Wooyoung's incident was rather hard on you but it was severely... bland.

Mind you, there was nothing in particular that happened but between finding out you were pregnant with a child you didn't even know how your cheating husband would feel about and finding out the person your husband cheated with was his staff member, you couldn't tell if your morning sickness was mostly caused by your pregnancy or as a physical reaction to your current marital situation. Not to mention your daughter had been severely opinionated regarding your care of her father.

Despite everything, you still took care of Wooyoung well. That day you left after finding out that Wooyoung was with a bitch who had some audacity to make big claims about her status, and you came back not two hours later with Wooyoung's things. Upon your arrival, Wooyoung was visibly tense, as if he was being wary and you assumed that the nurse said something about the whore he was with not being his wife and he panicked because how was she supposed to know that? You didn't make things easier for him either when you showed up all calm and collected unlike how a wife usually would react upon finding out that her husband had been hospitalized. He knew how you would usually fuss over him when he was ill so your behaviour struck to him as abnormal and concerning. Or well, something to be concerned about, it's not like he would be concerned over you at this point, right? Though, you excused yourself as being out of it and he just bought the lame excuse. Luckily, his mom soon came and later when you brought your children to visit him, your behaviour became less of a concern and the next two days he was under observation went by smoothly.

But still, the turmoil you felt didn't die down, it stayed stagnant within you and you were at a point where you were feeling too much but couldn't exactly let anything out. Except for puking, that's non-negotiable.

"You need to check that stomach bug out," Wooyoung said as he poured himself a glass of coffee upon hearing your footsteps nearing the kitchen. You had gotten into the habit of ignoring him because you didn't know what you would do or say to him if you opened your mouth. So you simply let out a hum of acknowledgement, not even bothering to answer him completely, not after you just emptied your stomach. "Did you drink any wine last night?" Wooyoung asked, now leaning on the counter to look at you who had situated yourself on the stove to prepare your children some breakfast before they had to go to school. But of course, you simply shook your head whilst turning the electronic inductor on and placing a pan over the surface.

It seemed like Wooyoung had taken note of your odd behaviour and while normally you would be glad that your husband had taken interest in you, all you felt was just sick to the pit of your stomach. It was as if his attention no longer mattered knowing that he shared that with someone else. Someone who hadn't done anything for him for years only to be betrayed yet someone worth risking his marriage and vows to you for.

Wooyoung huffed and pushed himself off the counter to go over to you, leaning on the countertop close to you to take a good look at your face. "I'm worried. You seem like you haven't been yourself for quite a while now," boy did you want to whack him and claw his eyes out for saying that because how dare he act like he cared when you knew he had something going on with a cheap side piece. But you held it in as best as you could, balling your hands tight that the spatula in your hand almost snapped and just shrugged, "d'know what you're talking about," you muttered lowly, trying to avoid as much interaction with him as you could. With a sigh, Wooyoung tried to push some hair out of your face but for some reason your body moved involuntarily out of the way as if revolted by his touch which surprised Wooyoung who stood aghast, staring at you with wide eyes as you stared him back with nose twitching. Knowing you (ironically), you would not avoid his touch or act as if he was going to hurt you because (to his knowledge) he had never hurt you nor does he have shown any inclination that you should be afraid of him. Both of you just stood there in the kitchen, Wooyoung in surprise at your reaction and you in annoyance and once you finally took a good look at him, you glared at him in anger and boy did Wooyoung took notice of that.

"What?" He asked, stupidly, you might add. "What?" You answered back, returning to scooping breakfast to your children's plates. "Okay, sure, act like you haven't been avoiding me these past three weeks, (y/n). Did something happen when I was in the hospital?" yes, you got hurt but you were as fine as a peach because your mistress was there, "Are you mad that you had to take care of me these past three weeks?" no, but I am mad that your whore claimed to be your wife to the nurses and even had the gall to visit you while I was right there against my will, pregnant and all, "Did I do something wrong?" and that was when you snapped your head and crossed your arms at Wooyoung, "I don't know, Wooyoung, you tell me. Did you do something wrong?" though he wanted you to answer him, the tone of your voice surprised him greatly to the point that he straightened up. "Hm? Tell me Wooyoung, is there something you think that you know is VERY wrong that you wish to tell me right here right now?"

How you wished you had a camera to capture just how stupid Wooyoung looked. It was obvious to him, or made obvious to him, that you knew that something was up but there was no way Wooyoung could confirm that you knew that he had been cheating on you with his subordinate out of all people. As much as it was the most logical answer to your sudden hostility, Wooyoung didn't want to accidentally confirm his suspicion much to your dismay.

The moment he heard footsteps rushing to the kitchen was the moment Wooyoung believed that God existed because he knew the conversation was coming to an end. "Morning!" Woohyun chirped, throwing his book bag by the doorway before rushing to give you a hug, completely unaware of the tense situation or even the stare-off you were having with your husband. With one final glare, you shifted your attention from the cheating bastard Wooyoung to Woohyun, smiling to cover up your annoyance, "Morning Woodonnie," it had been a while since Woohyun grew out of his lisp phase but the nickname stuck and he liked that you had a special name for him, "Slept good?" he nodded with a wide grin, "Want food?" his grin widened and his nod was firmer. "Dayoung, do you want food?" you asked your daughter, who was too busy grinning on her phone to actually look at you, "Hey, Dayoung?" You called out again, sighing after carefully handing Woohyun his plate of eggs and half a toast.

Realizing that Dayoung was ignoring you, Wooyoung huffed and snatched Dayoung's phone, causing her to let out a 'hey!', "Your mother was talking to you, Dayoung," he stated, unimpressed with his daughter's blatant disregard for you (for once). Dayoung rolled her eyes and turned to you, "Yeah, I want breakfast, if not I wouldn't have come here now, would I?" Wooyoung was about to scold her but he was stopped when he saw you visibly gag, halting everyone's activities. Then you gagged once more before dropping the spatula on the counter and rushing to the toilet without saying anything else.

"She hadn't thrown up on those eggs, did she?" Dayoung asked, cringing at the thought of you doing something to her breakfast. Wooyoung snapped his head to Dayoung and glared at her, "Can you not? Your mom is sick and the last thing she needed was for you to act disrespectful to her," he scolded which surprised Dayoung because, to her knowledge, Wooyoung hadn't been that defensive of you for a long while.

"Is mom okay?" Woohyun asked, worry visible on his face and he was about to get off his chair to go to you when Wooyoung patted him on his head, "Don't worry about mom, okay? She'll be fine and she'll be even finer if she sees you eating," he smiled, trying to assure Woohyun which thankfully work as Woohyun began eating his breakfast with so much gusto Wooyoung had to tell him to slow down.

When Wooyoung got to you, you were getting out of the bathroom, looking pale and sweaty. He immediately approached you with a small towel he grabbed from the linen closet when he was getting to you, "Really, (y/n), you need to go to the hospital and get this checked out. I'll go with you today, okay? You definitely can't go anywhere yourself right now, I-" you simply snatched the towel from his hand and pat your mouth dry, refusing to look at him as you turned away, "I'm fine, Wooyoung, I can manage myself," it was the first time that you hoped he would just shrug and go back to not caring but of course, Wooyoung didn't come through when you desperately needed him to. Instead of leaving you be like you wanted, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders gently and turned you around, "(y/n), please stop being stubborn and let me help you, okay? You're clearly unwell and whatever it is, we can get rid of it and you'll be better!"

You knew that he didn't mean it like that because you knew that he didn't know about the growing person inside of you. But still, with your current state both physical and emotional, you were hurt and you couldn't help but think that his words meant that he didn't want the child that he helped create.

Balling your fists, you used the tension in your hands to stop yourself from rushing over and punching Wooyoung in the face. Instead, you pushed his hands off of you. "Like I said, I can manage myself. Shouldn't you be worried about work? You know, with people at work that you need to give more attention to?" you tried pushing past him to tend to your children but he effectively blocked your path with his body, frowning down at you, "What's with you? I'm trying to help here, (y/n), I'm worried about you!" "Well, maybe you've been ignoring me too much too long to the point that right now I'm so used to doing things myself without your help, Wooyoung. You've been very absent from me and I'm sorry to say this but it has come to the point that your presence is actually making me feel annoyed and I don't know if it was because of you in general or if it's because of this very uncharacteristic shift in your behaviour that's making me wonder if you're compensating for something or if you genuinely want to be there for me now."

Though you had managed to not physically hit him, your words stung worse than any slap you could deliver to him. Wooyoung was painfully aware of how distant he had been with you since your miscarriage and what he thought was his attempt to give you space had instead caused a rift in your marriage. He never meant for things to go this far, heck he never thought that he was capable of cheating on you but when another woman approached him when he was crying in the practice room to offer him a shoulder to cry on, he felt like his own pain was being acknowledged. After all, the loss didn't just happen to you, it happened to him too. While you were in your zombie state, Wooyoung manned the ship and put himself on the back burner, not even letting himself falter and stupidly not letting himself process the pain. He wasn't justifying his infidelity whatsoever, he knew that it was beyond wrong and he was disgusting for committing to it for so long. But it felt nice to let his vulnerability taken care of even if it ended up with him using someone he had no affection for as a mean to get some form of twisted connection because he was too ashamed of himself to touch you again.

Wooyoung stood there silent, not knowing how to react, or more like not knowing what to react to first. So you simply shook your head and walked past him, this time successfully.

Soon, Wooyoung heard Dayoung and Woohyun saying (yelling) their goodbyes which was then followed by the front door shutting.

When the silence of the empty house settled in on him, he found himself slumped on the couch, emotionless as your words kicked him all over. His chest burned with hatred for himself and his fingers became tingly from anxiety. He couldn't help but think of the ways he had failed as a husband and perhaps as a father considering how his daughter treated you. It dawned on him how mad he was when Dayoung disrespected you earlier, how he hated seeing you, who had always treated Dayoung with a lot of consideration, to be treated that way. And while he felt justified for chastising his daughter for her action, it was almost laughable how he didn't do the same when what he had been doing was a hundred, if not a thousand times more disrespectful. He was a hypocrite. You didn't deserve this.

Negative emotions welled inside Wooyoung, creating turmoil that almost made it hard for him to breathe.

Unfortunately, despite his realization, Wooyoung found himself driven to an action he had repeatedly done like a sick act of compensation when he was feeling bad. His hand fished the phone out of his pocket and his fingers moved as if on their own, immediately finding the contact that he didn't even bother to fake because he trusted that you wouldn't snoop because you were not that kind of a person.

"Hey, I know you're not busy until later in the evening, can I come?"

And the self-hate repeated itself.

But how much can he hate himself when he is being distracted by shallow, unfulfilling "pleasure" instead of dealing with his true feelings? How much more pain should he give you before he could finally take the first step to stopping and coming clean?

Maybe this was the last time he did it.

Maybe.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@atinyreads @strawberry-yeo @soobiverse @melanchobtch @vixensss @smally97 @maidens-world @yunhoswrldddd @imcoenffl @nescaffei @miaatiny @showmehoseok @tmingi @wlv-asteria @sunwoosbaby @hyukssunflower

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captain-joongz · 3 months

Text

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

jeong yunho

♤ the drill by @byuntrash101

big dick!yunho, kinda fluffy and sweet

kang yeosang

◇ let's play a game by @anyamaris

yeosang x reader x soobin (txt), friends to lovers, primal play

choi san

♧ howling to your moon by @essenteez

established relationship, smut

☆ oh he's good by @yoongiseesawmp3

part of church boy series, bad boy (?) san kinda

♤ pornstar!san by @orgverse

camboy/camgirl au, live stream sex, hinted ateez x reader

◇ incubus: coming of age by @byuntrash101

incubus!san, kinda slowburn

♧ moll by @last-words-ofashootingstar

1920s mafia, corrupt police officer!san, dark, yandere, manipulation

song mingi

☆ roommate by @essenteez

roommates to lovers, horny mingi

♤ a taste of desire by @solfiera

college au, brother's best friend!mingi

jeong wooyoung

◇ not on my watch by @remedyx

christmas time, getting together thanks to mistletoe, fluffy

♧ 5 weeks by @setsugekka

idol!wooyoung x stylist!reader, coworkers to lovers, woo is an annoying little shit (affectionate)

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 BTS, TxT, Stray Kids, Seventeen, NCT rec list

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

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comfortable? — jung wooyoung PART ONE OF LILO'S 600 FOLLOWER EVENT

requested by @jaehunnyy. “aaaaaaa lilo darling, congrats on your milestone!! i am so proud of you, and i would like to request some floofy floof with Wooyoung, with the prompts [ see below ]. take your time and know that im so proud of you 🤍” lilo’s notes. chippy, thank you so much~!! i hope i made your wooyo delusions come true 🫶

prompts. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” ; wearing each other’s clothes for the first time. pairing. jung wooyoung x fem!reader

warnings. none. wc. 714

dating wooyoung has been a dream so far. despite how playful he was and how much he loved to tease you, he was incredibly caring in ways that he showed through lingering touches and glittering eyes.

you’d known each other for years but only began dating a few months earlier after a confession that left you giggling every time you thought about it. “would you punch me if i confessed my love for you and asked you out?” “yeah, probably.” “cool… so, i really like you, let’s go on a date?” you did indeed punch after that, but he wasn’t one to complain about such things.

earlier today you showed up at his house after he told you to come over, which led to a spontaneous baking competition. a few hours later, the kitchen was covered in flour and other baking ingredients but the two of you finally put together pastries that (somewhat) resembled cupcakes. his batch looked pretty good, four vanilla cupcakes, each with a piped red icing heart on top. yours looked passable, four chocolate cupcakes topped with a swirl of white icing and sprinkles.

wooyoung took a long moment to stare at your creation before doubling over and laughing like his life depended on it. “what the hell is that?”

“they’re cupcakes and probably taste better than yours.” you pouted at him and took one of them from the plate. you eyed it for a moment before taking a small bite. you hummed appreciatively, it was pretty moist. so you took another bite bigger than the last. it was then that you noticed the cupcake was very much underbaked, the raw batter spilling out and dropping against your shirt. this only made wooyoung laugh even more as he observed you, tears nearly welling up in his eyes.

“it’s not even baked properly!”

you hastily grabbed some napkins and began wiping at the shirt. while the batter came off, it left behind a rather large brown stain on it that had you frowning. as soon as your boyfriend saw his expression, his laughter died down to amused giggles as he patted your cheek gently.

“don’t worry, jagi, you can borrow one of my hoodies.”

“are you sure?”

he nodded, leading you up to his bedroom. a few minutes later you walked out to meet him back in the living room, this time wearing one of his black hoodies over your leggings. it was too large for him and a bit larger for you, reaching the middle of your thighs if you didn’t move your arms.

the mischievous glint you usually saw in his eyes faded completely as he looked at you so lovingly when you walked in and flopped down on top of him on the couch. his fingers threaded themselves through your hair as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“comfortable?” he muttered against the soft skin of your cheek, making you giggle since it tickled a bit.

“very much so,” you nodded enthusiastically and cuddled into him further, “i might have to start stealing your hoodies.”

he hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist, turning you over so you were both laying on your sides, face to face and cramped together to fit on the couch. a few minutes of peaceful silence washed over you as you enjoyed each other’s presence. it was a rare occasion for him to be silent for this long and you looked up at him with some curiosity.

“what are you thinking about, woo?”

“you…,” you haven’t seen him looking so unsure since your first date when he spilled coffee all over your white rug. you slipped your hand into his and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night would you? i just really don’t want this day to end.”

your heart fluttered at his question and before you knew it you were smiling like an idiot and nodding. “i would want nothing more than that.”

he laughed giddily and pulled you closer. “have i told you how much i love you today?”

“yes but i wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“i love you.” he said again and again and again between tender pecks against your lips, cheek, jawline, anywhere he could reach. “i love you.”

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal

[ perm taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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atinycafe · 6 months

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You're running as fast as you can, feeling your heart pound in your chest. But no matter how hard you try, it's like your lungs just can't grab enough air. You're on the verge of collapsing, but you fight against it because you know that if you do, the creature chasing you will catch up. You try to move quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention from the zombies, the one trailing behind you is more than enough to handle.

You swiftly dart into an alley, the chill hitting you as you slide under a beat-up Ford, hoping the zombie isn't clever enough to figure out how to wriggle in and grab you. With your palms pressed against your mouth, you stifle your sobs, stealing glances as the zombie's body lunges violently at the car, its desperate cries and growls piercing the air as it searches for you.

You remain there, tears streaming down the sides of your temples, praying that it doesn't locate you. It feels like hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes, before the creature loses interest and sets off to hunt down another victim elsewhere.

You shut your eyes, allowing the tears to trickle down your cheeks, relishing this brief respite. You know better than to venture out of your hiding spot now; it would be a foolish move. The zombie might still be lurking nearby, and you're utterly spent, devoid of the energy to flee once more. Your legs feel distant, except for the persistent throbbing in your thighs. Glancing to the side, you catch sight of a distant silhouette at the mouth of the alley. Your lip quivers as you pray it's not another monster. You focus on steadying your breath, doing your utmost not to draw any attention, until the walkie-talkie strapped to your waist crackles to life, Wooyoung's voice inquiring about your whereabouts and whether you were able to secure the meds you sought.

Frantically, you fumble with the device, attempting to silence it, smash it, anything to no avail, as the zombie has already caught wind of the noise. A searing shriek escapes you as it homes in on your position with alarming speed. Fear overwhelms you, making it impossible to stifle your cries as you try to scramble away from the relentless advance of the oncoming undead.

You cry as you try to move but the zombie is already there, having ran so fast, it fell, which conveniently helped it get to you easier. You struggle against the relentless grip of the zombie, which had managed to reach you despite its fall. A piercing shriek escapes your lips as its bloodied hand seizes your boot, refusing to release its hold, overpowering your feeble attempts to break free. The creature's ghastly appearance sends shivers down your spine, its face a distorted mask of veins snaking through its cheeks to its pitch-black eyes. Smudges of blood and shreds of flesh cling to its decaying teeth, intensifying the nausea already roiling within you.

With a horrifying tug, it secures its grip on your ankle, your skin brushing against its own causing you to cry out even louder, the mere thought of a scratch sealing your fate—infected. The monster echoes your cries with its own guttural growls, hauling you closer with an inhuman force. You resign yourself to the belief that this is the end, that you will meet your demise here. It's over. You're dead.

Yet, just as despair settles in, something yanks the zombie by its legs, pulling it out from beneath the car. In a fleeting moment, you witness a knife thrusting into the creature's skull.

Through your tear-blurred vision, you spot Wooyoung kneeling before you, frantically scanning beneath the car, his disheveled appearance adding an unexpected allure. Specks of blood dot his face, his tousled hair falling across his eyes, a glistening sheen of sweat adorning his flushed cheeks. You sob uncontrollably as he tugs you into his embrace, pulling you out from your hiding place.

As you collapse into his lap, your tears dampening the nape of his neck, he holds you tightly, his broad palm cradling your head, drawing you nearer to him, while his other arm encircles your waist. He sways gently, murmuring reassurances about how you're okay and safe, about how he's not going to let anything hurt you, about how he's sorry, about how he should've been next to you and vows to never leave your side again.

His whispered words of comfort soothe your racing heart, calming the storm within you as you cling to him, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace, the assurance of his protective presence.

He eases you back slightly, his gaze fixated on your face as his hands tenderly sweep away the disheveled strands, tucking them behind your ears to better take in your features. Lowering his head to yours, his forehead presses gently against yours, your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world around you fading into the background as you share a moment of intimacy amidst the desolation of the city.

Guiding your chin with a gentle touch, he guides your lips to meet his in a languid kiss, his tongue delicately tracing the outline of your chapped lips, coaxing you to open them. You allow his tongue to slip past, a gentle dance commencing as it caresses yours, each movement tender and deliberate, creating a rhythm that speaks of both longing and relief. This delicate exchange continues, a cherished connection that speaks volumes in its simplicity and depth.

As you both part, Wooyoung helps you to your feet, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before leading you deeper into the city, glock in hand, toward the refuge of a random apartment, your own little sanctuary.

"Let's go pretty girl, I found some canned peaches, we're gonna eat good tonight"

masterlist | taglist in comments | feedback is appreciated :)

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bro-atz · 2 months

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amnesia [trope — wooyoung]

inspired by: hi nanna — tollywood movie

word count: 2.7k

content: angst, smut, plane crashes, head injury, talks of ptsd, bedroom sex, unprotected sex (pls remember to wrap up irl!), completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: if you can, watch the movie this is based on! it's on netflix, and lowkey it is very cheesy and over the top in a way, but there were so many plot twists my brain exploded fr (also nani is an amazing actor okay i love him sm)

trope masterlist

“Baby, can’t you stay for one more day? Please?” you quietly asked your boyfriend as you nuzzled your nose into his neck.

The two of you were laying in bed— you had gotten ready for bed, but let’s be honest, you were definitely not planning on sleeping anytime soon.

“You know I would if this project wasn’t launching this week,” he sighed as he hugged you a little closer.

You frowned. You knew when your boyfriend took this promotion that he wouldn’t be home as often, and you both agreed to make the relationship work long distance, but you didn’t realize how hard it would be when it was time for him to leave.

“Hey, but once the project is over, they’ll be transferring me back here,” he continued softly.

“Really?” you shot up and looked at him eagerly, earning a cute smile from the man.

“Yes, baby. Really.”

“You better not be lying to me, Jung Wooyoung,” you warned.

“No, I’m serious. Three more weeks, and it’s over,” Wooyoung insisted.

You hugged him immediately, your lips crashing into his. Your heart was soaring just thinking about getting to live with your boyfriend peacefully again. Wooyoung smiled against your lips as he brought his arms around you and hugged you close, his hand petting your hair while the other one was securely around your waist.

The kisses deepened, and when Wooyoung slipped his tongue into your mouth, he moved you so that you were straddling him. His hands were on your waist when he moved you, so he was able to slip them under your shirt and tiptoe up along your waist until his fingers brushed your underboob. He knew that you didn’t wear a bra to bed, but he was still pleasantly surprised that he had one less thing to worry about.

His fingers ghosted over your nipples and teased you until your tits were hard. When he started tugging on them, you let out a little moan. You pushed against his chest and away from him, your face flushed as you looked at his half-lidded, lusty eyes. Quickly, you pulled off your top and grabbed the hem of Wooyoung’s impatiently, trying to get the man to strip down quickly.

The two of you were completely naked as Wooyoung leaned against the head board. He had his hands on your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin occasionally as you continued to kiss him passionately. You could tell he desperately wanted to be inside you based on the way he was gripping your thighs. So, you moved up slightly, taking his cock into your hand as you held his neck with the other hand. You stroked him briefly then rubbed the tip of his penis against your folds, his cock twitching and throbbing in your grasp.

“Baby,” Wooyoung whispered hoarsely. “Stop teasing me.”

You responded by kissing him briefly then leaned back. You sat down slowly on his cock, the two of you stifling moans as you took your sweet time sitting down. Wooyoung’s hands moved from your thighs to your ass, and when he spread your ass cheeks, you immediately fell into him, your chest rubbing against his.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Wooyoung chuckled into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You feel so fucking good.”

You let out a slight mewl when he bit your earlobe, making him chuckle again. His head moved into the nook of your neck and left soft kisses along it as his hands pulled on your ass cheeks, willing you to start moving. Clinging to his shoulders, you moved your waist slowly, his cock sliding in and out of you. You started slow, but it was much too slow for Wooyoung’s liking. You felt him bite down on your neck the second he brought down your ass with insane force, the smack of your ass hitting his waist reverberating in your bedroom.

“Oh, God!” you cried as Wooyoung moved you faster, his waist starting to roll upwards, meeting yours halfway. “B-Baby— Angh!— S-So good!”

You felt your walls flutter when Wooyoung’s cock rubbed just right against your G-spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning loudly, only for Wooyoung’s thumb to untuck your lip.

“I want to hear you, baby. I want you to tell me how good I make you feel,” he told you, his voice slightly rumbling.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby!” you cried loudly. “I’m almost— I— Ah! I wanna c-cum!”

Wooyoung pulled out— more like lifted you— your legs trembling as you arousal squirted all over him. Your breathy moan faded into heavy pants, and before long, you were moaning all over again when he sat up and pinned you down on the bed, his cock swiftly re-entering you as he knelt between your legs and pushed your thighs up so that your knees were almost near your shoulders. He resumed his high pace, making stars fill your vision quickly despite having just cum.

“Oh, yes, just like that,” you sighed as you pushed your head back. “Fuck— Nngh— Right there!”

With a light smirk on his face, Wooyoung bent down, making your back bend further and his cock drill deeper into you. He reconnected his lips with your and kissed you sweetly as his waist ruthlessly slammed against yours. You heard little grunts and groans slip out from him when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the pitch of them getting higher as his orgasm neared.

“Cum with me, baby,” Wooyoung uttered as his breathing hitched.

When Wooyoung thrust into you as hard as he could, you felt your thighs start to tremble again. White filled your vision as the two of you came together, the harmony of your moan and his groan echoing in the room. You felt the hot ropes of cum collect within you as he came inside, his cock twitching slightly as he pulled out and hovered above you.

“How do you feel?” he asked you softly, his hand caressing your face.

You merely responded with a nod and a smile, making the man smile back at you. He was going to get off the bed to get you water and start to clean the two of you up, but before he could move away, you reached for his cock and started stroking it, the man flinching and shivering as he felt your hand barely grasp and tug.

“We’re not done here,” you whispered to him as you continued to pump.

“Whatever you say, baby. I’m all yours tonight.”

“Baby, don’t cry,” Wooyoung said quietly. “I’ll see you soon, right?

You couldn’t help it— you always cried when Wooyoung left. Three more weeks, you had to keep telling yourself. You would see him again in three weeks.

Wooyoung cupped your face and dried your tears. He had a soft, reassuring smile on his face, making you feel only a tiny bit better. What really made you feel better was the gentle kiss he left you.

“I’ll miss you, baby,” he told you before heading into the airport.

“I’ll miss you, too,” you responded while waving him goodbye.

You thought it would be three weeks, but that certainly was not the case. Honestly, you really wished that he had made it back to where he needed to work, that he would work for three more weeks and then return to you for good, but that didn’t happen.

What happened was a huge mistake. It all happened so fast. Air traffic control cleared Wooyoung’s plane for take off while also clearing another commercial aircraft for landing. The flight had barely gotten 15,000 feet in the sky before the two plane made contact. You didn’t see the collision, but you heard it, and your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You hoped and prayed that it wasn’t your beloved’s flight, but it was.

He was taken to the hospital in your city immediately. Out of two flights of hundreds of civilians, he was the sole survivor, and doctors worked day and night to make sure he would survive for certain.

The doctors put Wooyoung in a medically induced coma to fix all of the damage that air accident caused. He had so many broken bones, so much internal bleeding, and burn wounds all over his body since the flights had burst into flames upon crashing to the ground. It seemed hopeless, but you never gave up hope— you refused to give up hope.

You could barely sleep, you could barely eat. You stayed at the hospital day and night, refusing to go home until you knew that the love of your life was safe. The doctors had to come and reassure you multiple times that his condition was stable, that you could go home and visit in the morning, that you should sleep in a proper bed before you start to endure your own health problems. It was only when they allowed you in his room did you stop sleeping in the hospital.

Wooyoung looked… He did not look like himself laying in that bed. His face was covered with bandages and scars that doctors said would go away after some time, but he looked like he had gone to hell and back. To be fair, though, going through a horrible accident like that was like going to hell and back. Still, seeing him motionless and unresponsive in the hospital bed was sometimes too much for your heart, but you refused to leave his side even when your heart was bawling for him.

It was late at night when Wooyoung came to. You had decided to spend the night at the hospital that night he came to, so you were asleep in the arm chair in his room. Wooyoung’s eyes lingered on you as he sat up, but his eyes were bleak, dull, devoid of all emotion.

He remained sitting in the hospital bed as he turned to look out the window. It was raining that night, and he just stared at the water droplets collecting on the glass. He did have one emotion, actually, and that was confusion. He didn’t know where he was, what was going on, why he was there, and who the person in the room with him was. The only thing he knew was that he didn’t want to be there.

Wooyoung tried to get up, but his body was in so much pain that he couldn’t put any pressure on his arms— it was a miracle he was able to sit up without pain.

The sound of Wooyoung hissing in pain woke you up. You stirred and barely blinked the sleep out of your eyes when you saw him sitting up, your entire body immediately waking up. You covered your mouth and started sobbing, relief washing over you from head to toe. You shot out of the chair and knelt by his side as you reached for his hand.

“Oh my God, baby, you’re awake! You have no idea how—”

“Who are you?”

You froze. Your blood ran cold, and your heart nearly sank into your stomach.

What?

“I… Um,” you cleared your throat. “I’m your girlfriend, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung blinked in surprise. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to place you.

“…Who?”

“Y/N,” your voice trembled. “Your— Your girlfriend…”

“That’s… Not possible…” Wooyoung whispered.

You were about to start crying all over again, this time for a different reason. You got up and immediately ran to get the doctors. As the doctors checked his condition, you stood outside the room and waited, your mind swirling, your heart racing.

“Who are you?”

“Y/N?” a doctor snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“From what we can tell, Wooyoung seems to be experiencing some amnesia,” they explained. “The accident must’ve been so traumatic that it made him forget the plane crash and why he was on that plane in the first place.”

“So… He doesn’t remember me?”

“Unfortunately, that’s what it seems like. He can remember everything he did in the days leading to the accident, but nothing else. It’s… It’s like you never existed to him.”

Tears streamed down your face. You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs, but there was no way in hell you were going to be able to control your tears, especially not after hearing that the only man you ever loved didn’t remember you at all.

“And… Um… This is probably going to hurt more,” the doctor continued awkwardly. “But, we recommend you… You shouldn’t interact with him.”

“Why?!” you were hysterical at that point.

“If he recollects you and the accident, then he’ll definitely suffer… Most likely, he’ll develop PTSD… And right now, since his mind is wiped clean of the event, we think it’d be better for him to remain that way…”

Part of you wanted to choke the doctor— yeah, it did fucking hurt to hear that you should stay away from the love of your life for the rest of your life. But you didn’t want Wooyoung to be unhappy. You didn’t want to think about him having survivors guilt, him remembering what it was like for that flight to collide and go down, him suffering nightmares because of everything. If the price of keeping him happy and ignorant was you, you were going to do it. Anything for Wooyoung.

Anything for the one true love of your life.

You never really moved on. You managed to focus on yourself and live your own life, but you were never able to fall in love ever again. It had been years, but you still could only think about Wooyoung.

You usually liked to go to a café to work since you were allowed to work wherever you wanted— remote jobs are truly the best— and you always chose this one particular place near your apartment because it was quaint, it was cozy, and best of all, it was usually empty whenever you wanted to sit and work.

Which meant you were able to see every single person that entered the shop, which meant that you got a perfectly clear shot of Wooyoung sauntering through the door.

Tears immediately sprang to your eyes. Even though it had been years, and even after all of the surgery and the scars and burns, Wooyoung looked the same. He looked just as happy, just as beautiful, just as… Just as he did before the accident.

You desperately tried to focus on your work. You hid behind your computer and stared at the screen until your eyes dried up for the most part. But, all of that was futile, because as soon as you thought you had recovered, someone sat across from you— Wooyoung sat across from you.

“Hi,” he started— God, it had been so long since you heard his voice, you were ready to start fully sobbing. “You look like you could use a friend, or at least a shoulder to cry on.”

“I— I’m perfectly fine,” you managed out after barely clearing your throat.

“Are you sure? I promise I’m a good listener.”

“I’m sure.”

It fucking sucked to be so curt with him, but you needed to get away from him. So, you packed up your bag and got up, the man’s eyes following your movement with slight sadness.

“Well…” he said softly. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll get better.”

No, it wouldn’t. But he didn’t need to know that. You responded with a small nod and quickly made your way to the entrance, only for you to nearly collide with another woman. You muttered an apology and had one foot out the door when you heard it.

“Baby!”

You looked over your shoulder to see the woman run to Wooyoung and jump into his arms, Wooyoung hugging her tightly, happily. You could barely watch as you saw him kiss her gently, the same way he had you before he got on that fucking flight.

Numb, you left the shop. You walked all the way home in a daze, your face completely flat until you got into your apartment where you collapsed to the ground and started fully sobbing. You wailed and tried to drown out the sound of Wooyoung’s voice that lingered in your head, your heart.

“I’ll miss you, baby.”

trope masterlist

trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen @xhexy @interweab

network: @cromernet

#ateez #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung ateez #wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung smut #broatz #trope ateez #trope series #ateez smut #ateez angst #wooyoung angst #jung wooyoung angst #cromernet #Spotify

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starrysvn · 11 months

Text

place in me | jung wooyoung

pairing: chef!wooyoung x chef!gn reader

genre: angst, slow burn, fluff, ex2l

word count: 17k

warnings: angsty af, kinda toxic workplace, food, drinking, i know jackshit about cooking apart from hell's kitchen, masterchef and google searches, one (1) sex joke, reader is kinda dumb.

a/n: this has been in the works since march. i gotta stop procrastinating. anyhoww, i cited "m. butterfly" by david henry hwang and reworked one of my favorite quotes ever from "jane eyre" by charlotte brontë bc i luv her. hope u guys enjoy it <3

networks: @cromernet 🫶🏻

playlist: beside you by 5sos, finally // beautiful stranger by halsey, sparks fly by taylor swift, sorry by halsey, back to december by taylor swift, right where you left me by taylor swift, the winner takes it all by abba, haunted by taylor swift, amnesia by 5sos, place in me by luke hemmings

masterlist | navi

During quiet nights you worked best. It had always been that way ever since you were a student and you didn’t think things would change. Not when the kitchen was completely silent except for the slow rumbling of whatever you had on the stove and the swift swish of your chopping knife against the cutting board. You loved listening to music while cooking, but on nights like these, you preferred the muffled sounds of the city coming in from the cracked open window and the occasional humming that left your mouth.

It was peaceful enough to remember why you loved cooking so much. Not that you ever forgot but, lately, it was hard to find joy in your job. The hustle and bustle of the kitchen kept you busy enough to render your work almost mechanical, punctuated by the quick rhythm of orders coming in. All the loud noises around you sent you into a frenzy more often than not.

It was on nights like these - in the kitchen of your own apartment, off duty for the evening - immersed in the mellow atmosphere you created, that you wondered if it had all been worth it. The studying, the getting yelled at, Paris… If it had all brought you to this - working in a Michelin star restaurant you had only ever dreamed of setting foot in - but could never get you anywhere past it. If this was your final dream, your last ambition, then why did it all feel so heavy?

It was a question you could never answer. You took great pride in your work and in yourself for getting you where you were. You liked some of your fellow chefs, and the reaction your answer got out of people when they asked you where you worked. It lit a match in you, it felt like a pat on the shoulder to your younger self. But when you got home exhausted and so not ready to face it all again the next morning, doubt clung heavily to your mind.

You turned off the burner with a sour taste in your mouth you knew only your cooking could melt away. Sat down in front of your gamjatang, you took a big breath before diving in. You had avoided the dish like the plague ever since then, but somehow tonight your hands moved for you when reaching for the ingredients. The circumstances couldn’t have been more different than when you last cooked it; you weren’t hungover, it wasn’t four in the morning, and you weren’t halfway across the world with him.

A memory pushed and shoved to come to the forefront of your mind, one about warmth and love and understanding all washing over you in the tiny kitchenette of a Paris apartment where, with him, you tipsily laughed and slow danced to the music of your hearts beating at the same time.

It wasn’t surprising that it just didn’t taste the same. Recipe and execution-wise it was perfect, you couldn’t count the amount of times you cooked the soup. But it tasted off, somehow. And right now you didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze why. So you just ate in silence, a slight frown on your lips with every spoonful, grateful you only had to load the washing machine before going to bed, disappointed your peaceful night of cooking had been ruined.

–

“What’s got your panties in a twist today?”

Park Seonghwa was your favorite coworker. You two started working at Hwang’s at the same time and bonded pretty quickly. He was quiet and focused, a perfectionist when it came to his job and never really contributed to the migraine-inducing bustling crowd of chefs around you. He also would never dare to speak like this when you both were in earshot of the sous chef. You sighed. Apparently, you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and proceeded to grill your junior chef Jongho with more bite than usual.

“Please don’t say that when Seo’s so close to us,” you flashed him a warning look which was met with a mischievous smirk.

“We all know you’re aiming for his spot, with the scolding you just did he can only be proud,” the sous chef in your kitchen had the reputation of being even worse than head chef Lee, truly the bane of everyone’s existence. You didn’t want to be like him.

“Oh, lord,” you shook your head, slowing down your chopping the slightest bit. You’d woken up with a headache after a fitful night of sleep, already frustrated with the world before even facing it. Missing the bus and clocking in late didn’t help either, not when you were greeted with a murderous glare from the head chef. You didn’t mean to be snappy with your junior, but things had inevitably piled up.

“I don’t even know if I want the position anymore,” you grunted under your breath, earning a soft giggle from Seonghwa.

“Careful saying that out loud, or the vultures will try even harder to take you down,” he knew better than to bump his shoulder with yours, lest he interrupted your furious chopping and ended up being the reason you lost a finger, but did it anyway. The sweet gesture comforted you, surprisingly you didn’t feel the urge to bite his head off.

“Let them,” you meant the words to sound a little less disheartened than they did, but all of last night’s thinking had seemingly gotten to you. Seonghwa gave you a confused look but could say little before being interrupted.

“Executive Chef Kim needs to speak to you,” the eyes of the whole kitchen were on you as a sort of stillness descended upon everyone. Even Seonghwa beside you looked surprised, even if less than everyone else. You knew in his head he was probably cooking up some joke about you being the next tyrant sous.

There were two ways this encounter could go: either fire you or promote you. A conviction that grew stronger when you entered the still-empty restaurant and sat at a table were not only the executive chef, but also the owner and manager, waiting for you. Why would they do this hours before opening?

“Thank you for joining us,” manager Na said as soon as you sat down in front of them. “As you may be aware, chef Kim and chef Lee have had their eyes on you as a possible candidate to replace chef Seo once he retires.” Her piercing eyes stared deep into your soul. You nodded, almost afraid to speak, wondering why in the world you chose to work for such intimidating people.

“I’m afraid you will not be taking that spot.”

A low blow. Somehow, even when you were neither too hopeful nor too enthusiastic about becoming sous chef, the rejection still hurt. It still sent a jolt of disappointment and self-doubt shooting through you. Were you not doing a good job? Were you not up to their standards?

“However,” you looked up again, your eyes now on executive chef Kim. “Mr. Hwang is opening up another restaurant.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” you mumbled, wheels slowly turning in your head. Manager Na smiled knowingly.

“I would like to give you the opportunity to become head chef in my new restaurant,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m told by chef Kim and chef Lee that you would fit the position better than the one of sous chef. I trust their judgment.”

It took all you had not to let your jaw hang in front of them. Head chef? Had they lost their minds? Never had your mind taken the decision for you before you could even rationalize your thoughts.

“Could I think about it?”

“Time ticks fast here, you know that chef Y/L/N,” Manager Na’s intimidating eyes were on you again. “We’d like to have an answer in two days at most.”

With a curt nod, they dismissed you. You didn’t think you had ever made a beeline for the bathroom so fast in your entire life. Surely, you couldn’t go back into the kitchen looking like your cat just died. Everybody would know something was wrong, they would know that the position as sous was still free and you had been shot down. And there was little they could do better than kicking a man when he was down.

So you sat in the cubicle, trying to calm your shaking hands and regain composure. Act like nothing happened. Betray no emotion. Go back to dicing potatoes exactly one centimeter by one centimeter. Not a millimeter more, not one less.

Assholes. All of them. They couldn’t have chosen a better moment to tell you this than the most hectic night of the week. And now you’d have to work through it. Through the eyes trailed on you, holding questions and spite and jealousy. Through chef Lee’s and chef Seo’s yelled reprimanding, making sure everything was just perfect for the critic coming in.

Just one more night.

Never had you held on so tightly to such meager consolation.

–

“You look like you need a beer.”

Seonghwa’s voice broke the silence of the back alley. After closing, you decided to stick around instead of fleeing home like you usually would. It had been a while since the last time you sat outside the back entrance of the kitchen, alone with your thoughts after hours of noise.

“I need vodka,” you voiced, not looking up as he took a spot beside you.

“That’s stooping so low, what’s wrong?”

You knew the question would come. Somehow he had not asked anything when you entered the kitchen again with a blank face. A murmur had slithered past as you took your place and started working again. But Seonghwa had just shot you a look, resuming his work as well.

“They want to make me head chef at Hwang’s new restaurant.”

“But that’s great!” He was looking at you with those big, wide, excited eyes of his and a genuine smile on his lips. One would think the offer was made to him. You were almost sorry you had to wipe that happiness away.

“I don’t know if I want that…”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, but not surprised. You sighed. How did you explain this without sounding crazy?

“I mean… I-” you grunted, hands in your hair. “When’s the last time you felt like cooking?”

Seonghwa stared back with a slight frown in his brow, eyes bouncing around your face in an effort to understand.

“Like, really cooking. Without walking into the kitchen and wanting to throw up, or dreading opening time and all the yelling. I know it’s how it is when you work for such big names but fuck. Everything’s too fast and I… it feels like I don’t care anymore, Hwa. They took my passion and stomped all over it.”

“Didn’t you want to be a high end, gourmet restaurant chef?”

You stared, mouth hanging open. Of course, you did. It was your biggest dream, your one ambition. It was excruciating that all the pressure was making you break, making you think that you weren’t cut out for this and you had wasted your time.

“I did, I do.”

“But?”

“But this isn’t it. This feels like a survival show, where everyone’s out for blood. I understand competitiveness, but I can hardly breathe when we start cooking. Chef Seo is a literal nightmare and I don’t think I can do it anymore in a place like this.”

“I see…”

“You think I lost my mind,” you let your head tilt back, eyes on the starless night sky.

“Maybe you did,” Seonghwa said. “That doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

“I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d hear you like this,” he continued. “You hold such pride for what you do and how you do it. I think Seo might yell at you just because he’s irritated he’s got nothing on you. Half of the people hate you for how well you manage.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed.

“My point is,” he bumped his shoulder with yours. “That it’s indicative of how much this place fucking sucks if they got you breaking. A Michelin kitchen, or any kitchen for that matter, shouldn’t burn out their best chefs.”

“Jongho is so brave for junioring here,” you deflected, allowing his words to soothe your burning wounds.

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Yeah, and look at where it got us,” you giggled, smiling for the first time tonight. Seonghwa huffed out a laugh.

A beat of silence passed. You were glad for Seonghwa. Even though you often joked he was just your favorite coworker, you considered him a dear friend. One of your only friends for the matter.

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll quit,” you heard his surprised gasp and chuckled. “And I’ll refuse the position. I know head chef sounds better but I know them. Manager Na and Mr. Hwang will only hire straight up assholes and I’d have to deal with it, and not even as executive chef.”

“We’re not assholes!” his hand sat on his chest in mock offense, you giggled.

“We look like assholes and do our job quietly and damn near perfectly, that’s why we’re here.”

Mumbling something along the lines of I guess so, Seonghwa accepted the heavy truth. In the quiet alley, sitting with your friend, you felt okay. The murmur of the busy city filled your heart as you quietly giggled and remembered your first days working at Hwang’s. Goodbyes were always hard on you, but not this time. You expected gut-wrenching pain and tears and the heavy burden of failure on your shoulders as you accepted your decision. But none of it manifested, not when Seonghwa had snuck one of the most expensive bottles of wine out of the kitchen and launched himself in a perfect rendition of Chef Seo’s latest meltdown. Maybe taking a step back didn’t mean failing, something you never would’ve believed mere months ago.

The sound of freedom equated to the one of your blaring alarms each morning. It had been two weeks since you had quit your job, but you still refused to get a good night’s sleep. Well, except the night you told Seonghwa and you ended up drunk off your faces.

You rolled over, turning off the annoying alarm, ready to start another day of not knowing what to do. There were few things you enjoyed doing, apart from cooking, when all you were left with was free time and silence. It was nice getting out of the house in the early spring morning to buy groceries, go for walks, and swing by your friend’s flower shop, but it got old quickly. Mostly, you didn’t like how sometimes, while cooking, memories you tried to never think of seemed to resurface on their own.

When you finally got to the kitchen and there was nothing but eggs in the fridge – it was shopping day – you settled on an omelette for breakfast. Only, halfway through cooking, your mind wandered back there.

When Chef Berrien asked you to make an omelette you wanted to laugh. You didn’t though, not when you saw the serious frown he was sporting. He was being serious? The absurdity of the situation made you question if dropping everything you had back at home just to fly to Paris to master your craft had been worth it. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you were crazy.

“Omelettes are the easiest thing to spoil,” he stood resolutely in front of you all. “Only good chefs make good omelettes.”

Oh god, your mother was right.

“Good luck,” a smug voice sounded from beside you.

If there was someone who could push you over the edge Chef Berrien shoved you to, it was Jung Wooyoung. In just two weeks of sharing your working station with him, you discovered that his bubbly personality clashed with your silent brooding. You preferred to work in silence and, apparently, he thrived in chaos.

“You too,” you grumbled, getting your few ingredients ready. How in the world were you supposed to prove your worth with a fucking omelette? You closed your eyes and sighed, getting to work.

“That definitely looks… simple,” Wooyoung mumbled as Berrien walked through the cooking stations, pulling faces at every dish. You looked down at yours - a plain, french omelette - then at his - all prettily plated and definitely cheese filled - and bit your tongue.

“He asked for an omelette, not a Michelin star worthy breakfast,” you hastily whispered, wishing he would just shut up for once.

“Aren’t we training to be Michelin star worthy chefs?” came his rebuttal, getting on your last nerve with that pretty smirk of his.

Pretty?

You scoffed and shook your head, straightening your back and clearing your throat as Berrien came close to your station. When the chef’s eyes landed on your omelette, a slight frown pulled his lips downwards. As he walked away, you did your best to ignore Wooyoung’s silent snicker and the burning in your cheeks. After the evaluation, you kept quiet for the rest of the day.

It sometimes happened that you would close off to the rest of the world, and focused only on what you were thinking and the task at hand. Most often when you were cooking, which both helped and hindered your work. As much as you needed to focus on what you were doing, you also needed to listen to orders while doing it. You hoped to get better at managing it, it was why you were here, after all. Though, for now, after a full day surrounded by people, you were happy sitting alone with your back resting against the backdoor to the kitchen.

“Is the silent treatment payback for beating you today?”

The door flew open, making you lose balance for a second, then came his question.

“You didn’t beat me, Wooyoung, this is not a competition,” you sighed, keeping your eyes set on the wall in front of you rather than on his figure sitting down beside you.

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, no doubt with a shit-eating grin on his lips. That did it.

“Just because your omelette got a nod and mine got a frown, it doesn’t mean yours was better!” You all but exploded, finally looking at him. Indeed, he was wearing a smug grin.

“Well, Chef Berrien would disagree,” you scoffed as he looked at you with shiny, distracting, eyes. Was it the light from the lamppost reflected in them or had the lack of sleep finally got to your brain? You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thought.

“Fuck you too, I guess,” you finally said, turning back around, earning a laugh from him.

You didn’t want to stop and think about why his laugh pulled a snicker out of you, making you feel so light and at ease.

“Does this mean you’ll go back to talking to me then?” He asked, sounding a little small. “You’re not mad?”

Something pulled at your heartstrings, hearing him ask something like that. Did he really think you were mad at him? You probably looked like an asshole for the rest of the day after Berrien barely passed your omelette.

“I’m not,” you said much faster than you anticipated. “I never was.”

“That’s good,” he smiled, and you weren’t sure you liked the warmth that blossomed in your chest.

You avoided thinking of your training in Paris with all your might, and he was the reason why. But it seemed that now that your whole world had turned upside down, your brain could do nothing but. Add that to the list of things you hated about unemployment. A funny smell pulled you from your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the almost burned omelette in front of you. Mumbling curses under your breath, you turned off the heat and plated it. This was why you never let your thoughts take over.

You ate your spoiled breakfast in silence, deciding to get started with your day and your grocery shopping, mentally listing all the food you’d need. Anything, really, at this point to keep your mind occupied with something that wasn’t him.

It was still hard for you to wrap your head around what Jung Wooyoung meant to you. Or rather, you knew perfectly well and tried to avoid it like the plague. He was a closed chapter you didn’t want to revisit simply because it hurt. Because there was a point in time where he meant the whole world to you, where he was your whole world, and you decided to burn it all down only to choke on the ashes of what it used to be.

You left wondering if he was still writing pages or considered the story closed and done as you did. Like you had to not to drown in guilt.

While walking down the street, warm sunlight caressing your face, you asked yourself why it was all coming back to you now. A hollow of confusion had opened up in your chest, and of its own volition your heart chose to fill it with such memories. When Wooyoung came into your life, he did so by taking it by storm; randomly, upsetting all you had ever known, and maybe at the wrong time. That didn’t mean he didn’t leave a sign, a permanent one, on your heart. And now that you were crawling in confusion, he was barging in once more.

Wooyoung was late. It was teamwork evaluation day and your project partner was nowhere to be seen. Chef Berrien had sent daggers flying your way upon seeing the empty side of your workstation, not waiting a second longer to start the class. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole and also to strangle Wooyoung on sight. There must’ve been a logical reason why he still hadn’t shown up when you were supposed to finish your three-day project. If the fucker left you alone to finish cooking lièvre à la royale, you were seriously going to give him the scolding of a lifetime.

Anxiety started to claw at your stomach, twisting it in knots and tugging at them in a way that made it harder to breathe. Under the chef’s pointed gaze you could only stay as still as possible, hoping he’d prolong his very unsubtle speech about tardiness until Wooyoung got here, praying he would, and yet cursing him in your head.

He still hadn’t shown up when he gave the class permission to start working. You sighed in frustration, walking to the fridge to retrieve the hare you’d cooked the day before with trembling hands. Back at your station, you realized that working while checking the door every three seconds would get you nowhere, and you weren’t about to fail the assignment even if half of your team was missing.

When the meat was finally cleaned of the jellied liquid it had sat in overnight, and you were preparing to cut it into exactly eighty grams slices - not one more, not one less, Berrien's voice sounded in your head - the door to the kitchen burst open.

In came a panting Wooyoung, his white chef jacket buttoned up a little crooked, who tried to make his way to your station unseen. It didn’t work.

“Jung,” Berrien’s voice resonated in the hot hair of the kitchen, making everyone stop working for a beat. Too bad no one had time to spare. You started slicing. “I don’t appreciate tardiness.”

“I’m very sorry, Chef-” he held his hand up next to his face, shutting up your partner.

“You may start cooking,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding the whole time, shoulders almost sagging in relief. “But don’t think I won’t keep this in mind during evaluation.”

The frustration you’d tried to keep at bay so far flared up once more, and your grip on the knife tightened. Wooyoung silently made his way next to you, washing his hands carefully and using the time to assess how far you’d gotten into the process. You didn’t utter a single word, fuming quietly as you focused on your task and he picked up on his.

You couldn’t afford to lose time bickering now, and for the first time in a while, you cooked in complete silence, the air around you tense and devoid of the usual jokes he would throw around to lift your spirits. No banter, just instructions and cooking for the next five hours.

Despite everything, Chef Berrien couldn’t hide how pleased he was with your dish, which didn’t end up at the top of the class only because of Wooyoung’s mishap. As soon as the chef dismissed you, you fled the kitchen.

“Wait!” Wooyoung’s voice called after you, who were already outside and determined to escape to your apartment to avoid cussing him out in front of your fellow chefs, who had already thrown confused glances at you the whole day.

“Hey, hold up!” He caught you by the wrist, spinning you around. If he wanted to do this here, who were you to deny him?

“What.” Wooyoung almost flinched at the harshness of your voice.

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am, I just-”

“Save it,” you cut him off. “Day’s over, damage is done, and we ended up with an alright grade. I don’t want to fight.”

It was true. For how mad you’d been, you didn’t want to make it worse. You could tell he was sorry by the way he’d cooked in silence, waltzing around you as if you were a bomb ready to go off at any minute. It had taken all your strength not to. You made to turn around and walk away, but he was determined to make you listen to what he had to say.

“Can you come with me?” He sounded defeated despite the determination in his eyes. All you really wanted was to go home, wash up and rot in bed. You were tired, physically and mentally drained by the day. But your friend – because how could you deny that Wooyoung had become more than a simple classmate in the last month? He’d quietly snuck up on you, surprising you with his cheerful smile and awful jokes, and slowly but steadily carved his own spot into your heart, now beating to the rhythm of his screechy laughter and kind words – was pleading you with his brown, burning eyes and how could you say no?

Sighing in defeat, you nodded, readjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and watching as his frown turned into a soft smile. Wooyoung took your hand in his, going back into the building, and guided you up the stairs. Transfixed, you stared at your hands; his felt slightly rough from all the cooking but still soft. You ignored the warmth the simple gesture sparked in your heart and followed quietly; you could only hope he wouldn’t get the two of you expelled.

Finally, you got to the last flight of stairs, legs burning and chest heaving. You hoped he had a good reason to be dragging you up six flights of stairs and potentially getting you in trouble for trespassing. He ushered you to the small balcony, apparently mostly used for storage, and nodded to a shaky ladder perched onto its wall, leading to the roof. You often did this at your apartment too, the one perk of living on the last floor, but suddenly your mouth went dry.

“How did you even have the time to find out about this-'' you climbed the small way up, thanking your lucky star that the building at least had a flatter roof compared to yours. But the words died in your mouth when you finally got your bearings and looked around.

Wooyoung emerged as well, now leaning against one of the chimneys. You sat down, amazed at the view all around you; as the sun set in the West, tinging the bluish sky with hues of warm orange and golden light, you spotted the Sacre Coeur sitting North and the Eiffel Tower immersed in a pink blush down South. A light breeze passed by, blowing a strand of dark hair into Wooyoung’s eyes, taking your breath away. Paris was quite the show from up there.

“I really am sorry,” slowly, he made his way over, sitting down next to you as he cast his eyes onto the breathtaking view in front of you. “I overslept, couldn’t find my keys, then had to rush here and… I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, not believing he almost failed the both of you because he didn’t hear his alarm in the morning. Actually, you could believe it, because it was such a Wooyoung thing to do. You couldn’t stay mad for long though, not when you turned to look at him and simply seeing his face bathing in the golden sun made your heart stutter in your chest. Not when his sorry eyes were melting like honey in the light.

“I wanted to punch you in the face when you came in late,” overwhelmed by his gaze, you looked away. Faintly, you heard him scoff beside you. “But I was also relieved. I didn’t think Berrien would let you cook.”

“I was ready to beg on my knees,” you snickered, Wooyoung elbowed your side. “No, really, lièvre à la royale is a bitch, I wouldn’t have let you cook it alone.”

“Then why did you sleep through your alarm? I was seeing red and had a knife in my hand, do you have a death wish?” You joked, heart singing when you made him laugh.

“Hey, I had trouble sleeping last night,” he defended himself, hands up as his laughter died down. With a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes, you finally looked back at him, studying his face. Only then you noticed the purplish circles under his eyes, just a bit darker than usual.

“Why?” You asked, trying to sound less worried than how you felt. It was Wooyoung’s turn to avoid your eyes and look out at the Parisian skyline, starting to twinkle in the fast-approaching night.

“I- well,” he sighed as you kept looking, feeling the air around you shift. The way Wooyoung was struggling to come up with an answer had you feeling like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, buzzing with expectation, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t ponder too long on why your heart was racing or why you felt like you could barely breathe. Finally, he looked at you.

“I like you.”

Now you truly did find it hard to breathe.

“I like you so much I can barely focus when we cook, and it’s never happened to me before because I love cooking and I always pay close attention to what I’m doing. I also don’t want to lose a finger, you know? But now you’re around and it’s like I can’t help but look at you. You’re so bright and so passionate, and when you’re chopping vegetables you scrunch your nose a little and it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen-”

In seconds you had your lips on his, pulling him closer with a delicate hand on the back of his neck. Wooyoung froze for only a millisecond before kissing you back. His lips were so pillowy and soft, you kissed him slowly, like you had all the time in the world. Lightly, his hand traveled up to rest on yours, which had moved onto his cheek. Kissing him felt like coming home after a long day. Warm and pleasant like the flame that swallowed your heart, chasing away the menacing grip fear had on it.

Wooyoung pulled away first if only to plant a small peck onto your lips before smiling.

“I was speaking,” he said.

“You were rambling.”

You both started laughing, hearts singing.

“What I wanted to say is that you shine in your own light and I can’t help but bask in it.”

The way he was looking at you, in ways no one ever could, could have melted you right then and there. You felt the flush rise to your cheeks, the hand that still rested on his cheek trembling lightly.

“I like you too, Jung Wooyoung,” you smiled. “More than I think I should.”

The quaint flower shop came into view, dispelling the memory, and a soft smile opened up on your lips. It didn’t look like there were any customers, so you stepped in. The colors of the pretty flowers that covered every inch of the walls always managed to put you in a better mood. You walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.

“Coming!” You heard from behind it, somewhere in the back, with a little shuffling and a loud thump. You jumped on your spot, giggling.

“You okay, Sang?” You asked, trying to peep. Your friend emerged a second later, clad in a white shirt, jeans, and his green apron, blowing a piece of his black fringe out of his eyes, a vase full of sunflowers in his hands.

“Oh, hey, what brings you ‘round?” He smiled, setting the vase on the counter.

“Just dropping by before going grocery shopping,” you shrugged, smiling back before you started playing softly with the leaves of the flowers near you. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, I should be asking how you are,” he raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s the fourth time you visit this week.”

You rolled your eyes, used to his antics, standing to help when he nodded at you to follow him. The quietness of the shop eased your thoughts more often than not, plus, you enjoyed the company of your friend. Yeosang lived in your same apartment building and opened up his shop early in the morning, around the same time you had to leave for work. Oftentimes you shared a coffee before your obligations called. He complained about horrible customers and you complained about your horrible coworkers.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” busy with an arrangement, he nodded you to the water lilies to his right. You reached for them with an arched brow, passing them. “A restaurant is opening down the street, if you’re interested in paying rent this month.”

You huffed a laugh, pretending to be offended.

“I’ll have you know I save my money, thank you very much.” He stood again, having finished his composition, watching you with an amused expression. “But I appreciate it,” you conceded. Yeosang smiled now, going back behind the counter as you followed.

“You should really check it out, even if it’s just temporary. It’d do you good,” a customer walked in, interrupting your chat. You nodded, leaving him to his work, shooting him one last smile before walking out. His cheerful Have a good day followed you out of the shop and into the now busier street.

Yeosang was right, you knew that much, but you still hesitated as you left the flower shop. There was uncertainty in your steps as you dared to walk down the street, looking ahead to spot the restaurant. Maybe you could go later that day, you could start with something easy like the grocery shopping you needed to do, to ease your nerves.

That was better, you decided, easing yourself into the day with your routine before upsetting it by facing something new. With newfound vigor, you resumed your walking, headed to your favorite greengrocer. A walk that lasted barely five steps, before you collided against another passerby.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

As apologies spilled past your lips, your eyes finally caught sight of the person you so rudely slammed into. When you did, you stopped talking, just as your lungs stopped breathing for a long second.

His dark hair looked a little longer, and his smile was just as you remembered, if not a little softer. Breathtakingly dashing like the first time you saw him, even in his worst moments. Because the last time you saw him, things weren’t pretty. You threw around words you didn’t mean only to disappear from his life. Both of you were crying, eyes red and puffy, voice broken as you spoke. You thought you’d never see him again.

To your dismay, you realized right then and there that you weren’t ready to face him yet. You never prepared for the moment it would all come back, simply because you never thought it would.

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Wooyoung huffed, his polite smile falling in seconds.

“Yeah, me too,” you croaked, still in shock.

The moment stretched on for what felt like minutes, and was only probably seconds, as you desperately tried to come up with something to say, something that’d make sense. But your brain came up empty-handed, because what if he hated you? He should hate you. What if he just told you to fuck off and left? Just like you did years ago.

“So, what are you up to?”

And yet, here he was again, taking your life by storm. There was no way he was standing there, in front of you in the middle of a busy sidewalk, asking what was of your life. You blanked, producing a sort of confused and surprised noise. He had to be joking. You watched as a little amusement flashed in his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“Would you like to catch up over coffee?”

Your eyes must’ve been wide as saucers, not a single second of this was making sense to you.

“U-uh… Sure,” you shrugged, despite yourself.

Was this his way of showing you he was unbothered and had moved on? His long-awaited chance to brag about where he was in life? You didn’t know him as someone who would do that, but perhaps you deserved it. Maybe this was karma.

Awkward. It was all so painfully awkward: walking in tense silence beside him to the coffee shop down the street, trying to make small talk about the weather, stumbling over your words when ordering coffee, waiting for him to join you at the table near the exit. Just in case.

“You’re back home?” You finally asked as he sat down in front of you, desperate to find something, anything, to talk about and fill the silence that hung menacingly over your heads. After all, he wanted to catch up. Wooyoung nodded, slowly sipping his drink.

“Oh, you’ve been traveling then,” you mumbled, playing with your coffee cup, not daring to look up at him again.

“I was, yes.” It was hard to wrap your head around what was happening. In another life, this would all have been familiar. It could have been. Sharing a cup of coffee on a Thursday morning, talking about whatever, sharing cool recipes, and planning how or when to try them out. His presence wouldn’t make you want to simultaneously vomit and run and hide. Dug your own grave, huh?

“Only big names I imagine,” you forced a smile. He shrugged with a huff, a little bashful perhaps. It was all you needed to know you’d guessed right.

“What about you? What brings you here?” Wooyoung asked, pulling you out of your reverie. Despite the small, polite smile on his lips, his eyes were unreadable. Though, deep down, you knew the answer he wanted to hear. That you traveled all around the world and did big things - still were - and worked for big names. Achieved your dreams at the expense of his. The lump in your throat made it hard to swallow, to speak.

“Worked at Hwang’s for a while…” you managed to say through the bitterness. Wooyoung’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, jaw hanging open.

“Really? Wow, that’s… amazing! Doesn’t it have two Michelin stars?” Some of your guilt evaporated at the surprise and excitement in his voice, a lightness that was quickly crushed by your own disappointment.

“How’s it there?” There it was, the million-dollar question. You scoffed, bitter, looking at him, watching his face fall a little.

“I quit.” You shrugged.

“You? Quitting? What happened to the Y/N I knew?” Wooyoung was surprised, that much you could tell, but there was something else brewing in his brown eyes.

“Dead, gone and buried, apparently.”

Your words were nothing but bleak, with a little bitterness still in them. Sure, you did what was best for you and you were proud, but you couldn’t help but feel like you had let him down. And wasn’t that absolutely, wildly foolish?

“They offered me a job as head chef in their new restaurant, but I turned that down as well,” you rushed to explain, feeling like you had to, missing his furrowed brow.

“That’s…”

“Crazy?” You offered, cutting him off. Wooyoung scoffed.

“Well, yeah, but there must’ve been a good reason,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to justify your choices to me, Y/N.”

Your breathing faltered at his words and the fragility they held. Wooyoung had muttered them so softly, you could’ve lost them in the bustling atmosphere around you, and somehow both stabbed and healed your heart’s wounds.

A moment passed before he cleared his throat, speaking again.

“So, you’re unemployed,” you almost couldn’t fathom how quickly he got back to bubbly and upbeat. You nodded, still stunned.

“Great, me too.” Wooyoung smiled while you blinked repeatedly. Was he… happy?

“My friend told me about this one restaurant opening down the street-”

“They’re not opening,” he said, watching as your face fell. “Not yet at least.”

You furrowed a brow, confused, about to ask what he meant when he cut you off again.

“I still need to find a co-owner.”

For a moment, you didn’t hear the car, just outside, honking at a group of teenagers crossing the street despite the redlight. You missed the way a barista made a glass fall and shatter eliciting surprised gasps around the shop. You only saw Wooyoung in front of you, his expression between smug and daring to hope, eyes shining with a little fear. All you heard were the words that left his mouth and what they implied, along with your heart ringing in your ears.

“What do you want to do? Why did you decline the head chef position?” You blanched, head spinning, brain scrambling to form coherent words. His eyes burned with a fire in them that screamed determination, one you were used to seeing as he challenged a dish he was afraid to ruin. A fire you used to love so much and that, you found, still made your breath hitch.

“I-I just want to make good food and not run a kitchen of overworked, stressed, miserable and spiteful people,” you settled on, not daring to look away, not even when he leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips.

“How’d you like it to open a restaurant?”

“Let’s open our own restaurant,” you laughed at his words, turning your head to catch his enthusiastic smile and bed hair all over the place. He was so beautiful, bathing in the morning light of your room, that your heart jumped and hurt and sang all at once.

“What?! Is this post-nut clarity?” Wooyoung laughed, pulling you with him.

“Way to ruin the moment, love,” he quieted down. “I’m serious, though,” he was looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes, and such adoration that sometimes it was hard to fathom it was directed at you.

“Mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster, Jung,” you found yourself saying, giggling when he pulled you into him, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was quiet for a while and you reveled in the warmth of the moment. Wooyoung often made you feel like anything was possible, like right now, huddled in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets despite the impending class you needed to leave for.

“I think we’d make it,” he whispered, quite believing the words he was saying. “And if it all starts falling apart we can hire chefs to cook and be the owners. Live somewhere tropical, rebuild our relationship…”

“That’s so sad, we wouldn’t be cooking at all!” you laughed, hiding in his chest and hearing a fake offended hey! from him. “You dream too big, Woo.”

“And you dream too small, my love.” He guided your face in front of his with gentle hands, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you until you were left breathless. When you pulled away, you finally saw the stars dancing in his eyes.

“I do have dreams,” you almost whispered, treading lightly on your own aspirations, opening up your heart for someone else to see. Someone who would understand and not call you crazy. Wooyoung nudged you, an expectant smile on his lips. “I want to travel all around the world and learn from the best of the best. Life’s a classroom, I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

“Never?” he asked, not quite surprised, but more like impressed. He understood. You let out an elated giggle, almost cursing yourself for behaving like a schoolgirl.

“Never.” unable to resist, you pecked his lips once.

“That’s a wonderful dream, love.”

One of his hands came up to rest on your cheek, cradling it gently, looking at you as if you were the most prized possession of his. All over, warmth wrapped you up, and rose to your cheeks that he was still grazing his thumb over, light as a feather.

“I want to open a restaurant someday, ” he whispered, so close to you, looking into your eyes and sending sparks flying in your chest. “But I think I might just follow you to the ends of the world.”

His lips crashed on yours once more, sending your heart racing more than his words had. This might’ve been the closest you’d ever felt to heaven, with Wooyoung wrapped around you, canceling any and everything else. You knew, right then and there, that the fall was going to hurt like nothing had ever before.

Consommé was the most devilish dish you’d ever had the displeasure of cooking. And yet, its intricate cooking process demanded every last bit of your undivided attention. That was why you were sweating away in the kitchen, trying to achieve the perfect result through your rusty memory of the process, although you had no need for it. Well, except not thinking of your morning. You’d rather remember Chef Berrien’s voice as he dictated the recipe and the endless ways you could ruin it, than your encounter with Wooyoung.

A shiver ran down your spine, tingling all the way, when his words, the ones from earlier and the ones from back then, echoed in your mind; clashing, fighting, and leaving behind scorched earth.

You could hardly believe this was your life right now. Accepting would mean tying yourself down to this place, to Wooyoung. You let the thought simmer in your head, waiting for the familiar claustrophobia to bloom in your chest, suggesting you to run and never come back.

It didn’t come.

Instead, the thought of leaving pulled at your heartstrings. You liked it here. You liked your morning coffee shit-talking sessions with Yeosang, you liked meeting up with Seonghwa on his days off, you liked your greengrocers and the walk back through the park near home. You liked your apartment, you finally liked the disposition of your tools in your kitchen. You liked the thought of working with Wooyoung.

You dropped the ladle, splashing your skin with the hot soup. You hissed in pain, clutching your hand to your chest before assessing the damage. You walked the short distance to the sink, running your hand under cold water.

Well, you thought, there goes the clarification process.

You skipped breakfast with Yeosang that morning. For one, you were late despite the alarms, and, most importantly, you needed to talk yourself into actually meeting Wooyoung at the restaurant. The day before you’d left him with the promise of letting him know about the offer. You preferred not to think about how, for just a moment, you could see the determination falter in his eyes. Again. Wooyoung saved his number in your phone before letting you go.

After taking care of your slightly burned hand, you stared at your phone for all of twenty minutes before finally crafting the perfect text saying you’d meet him at the restaurant at ten.

And now, five minutes to ten, you were running down the street, dodging people left and right, trying to get to the closed-down restaurant. You couldn’t count the amount of sorry’s you’d thrown around when accidentally running into someone. Finally, the sign came into view, and so did Wooyoung.

“You made it,” he sounded vaguely surprised and you tried not to let it get to you, or to let it show on your face.

“So,” you cleared your voice after nodding. “How’d you find out about this?” He gestured for you to follow towards the entrance, producing the key from the back pocket of his black jeans.

“I used to like this place,” he easily opened the door, leading you inside the empty restaurant. From the outside the restaurant didn’t look like much more than a hole in the wall, but the inside was spacious enough. A small restaurant, fitting maybe twenty tables at best, but you liked the idea. By the looks of it, it must had been recently renovated. Wooyoung switched the lights on, allowing you to see better. “When I got back the owner told me he was thinking of closing, and I asked if he wanted to sell. He made a pretty good offer.”

“Huh,” you were still looking at the anonymous white walls and the few sleek black tables left behind, making your way to what you knew to be the kitchen. Stepping in, you gasped. It was perfect; an island kitchen slightly bigger than you’d imagined. Almost gleaming in its silver glory it stared back at you, inviting you in. You didn’t even mind the checkered floor as you walked across the space and took it in. Wooyoung stood by the door, leaning against its frame with his hands in his pockets, watching. It looked like he was holding his breath, and you knew why.

“What do you think?” his voice was just a little bit hesitant. You turned around with a smile.

“I love it,” you offered, noticing how he seemed to ease up the slightest bit.

“Ah, I knew you’d fall for the island kitchen,” Wooyoung scoffed, walking into the space as well.

“Not my fault it’s the best type of kitchen,” you raised your hands, hearing him snort.

“Debatable,” he muttered, now standing in front of you. There was amusement dancing in his eyes, a spark you realized just then how much you’d missed.

It hit you then, square in the chest, how much you really just missed him. He still seemed to know what you wanted even before you knew yourself. It happened then and it was happening now. Being in the kitchen with him felt electrifying, your hands itched to start cooking. You looked around once more, seeing yourself bustling around in this kitchen, Wooyoung at your side.

Never once did you regret the choices you’d made; your love for food had brought you all around the world, learning and cooking in the most beautiful kitchens, earning your praise felt like the biggest reward. Believing in yourself and your skill, your craft, and being able to perfect it was all you really needed. Maybe it was time to stop and breathe for a while, and put your experience to use. Because, no, you never regretted where your choices took you, except losing Wooyoung. Your compass, the one who never lost sight of your heart.

“Let’s do it.”

Wooyoung looked at you as if you’d grown a second head, letting out a surprised sound.

“I saved quite a bit in the last few years and we could ask for a loan. Quite frankly, I’ve always wanted to run a kitchen on my own terms,” you could hear it in your voice, the ambition faintly coming back to it, something you hadn’t heard in a while. You smiled seeing Wooyoung straighten up.

“We’d be running it together,” he lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. You mirrored his stance.

“That’s good with me,” Wooyoung smirked.

“Then let’s do it.”

Oftentimes you asked yourself how you ended up here. You believed it almost impossible that you were, once again, sitting in front of Jung Wooyoung at an ungodly hour of the night, eating food you’d made as the radio softly played in the background. What was even less credible to you was how you were sitting in your restaurant, yours, discussing menu plans.

A month strong into the planning and designing, you were proud to say that you and Wooyoung were… friendly. Like coworkers were. Almost like long-lost friends would be. But it was fine because you got to stress Yeosang nearly every morning about how sometimes you both would slip into old habits and bicker like you used to and how that would confuse you. Then you’d talk Seonghwa’s ear off one night a week in front of your drinks, rambling on and on about how you’d catch yourself staring at him, blushing like an idiot, stumbling over your words.

Safe to say that your friends were tired, but deep down it surprised and comforted them to see you come back to life bit by bit.

It was all hard to wrap your head around because the last time you saw him still burned in the back of your mind. It was the giant elephant in the room you could never address, you could never pretend to not see. But Wooyoung was great at turning a blind eye, you realized. And you couldn’t really blame him either. You never expected to be in this sort of situation, you had quite literally run from it.

But you were afraid of misstepping, of crossing a line.

So, now, there you stood, at a crossroads; talk about it and watch this newfound truce crash and burn, or pretend like everything was fine. For now, discussing the menu with your co-owner would have to do.

“I think we should add that!” Wooyoung all but yelled, slamming his chopsticks down.

“And I’m telling you that I know the area!” You rebutted, swallowing your bite, before carrying on with your point. “There’s at least three other restaurants that do that, what’s missing is a gourmet place.”

“Will you let it go?” He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. “If we get there, we get there, if we don’t, then we’re still making fantastic food!”

Wooyoung had a point, you knew he did. A valid one at that.

“You’re insufferable,” you conceded, rolling your eyes and resuming your eating, trying to hide the smile pulling at your lips.

“You love it,” he winked, picking up his chopsticks.

And just like that, he threw you back into your loop. How could you simply let it go when this felt so familiar? When it reminded you so much of how you were? Light and carefree. Happy. You hadn’t noticed your eyes roaming around his figure, taking in his long dark hair pulled back by a ponytail, the way his eyes seemed to shine in the dull light coming from the stupid lamp he’d insisted on bringing in.

This was his dream, wasn’t it? You remembered, because how could you forget the endless hours he’d spend talking about his own restaurant, managing his own kitchen, creating dishes, and cooking his favorites? You could tell by the small smile he sported as he ate, looking around the room with star-filled eyes.

You didn’t know quite how you fit into this. You never amounted that one conversation, years ago in your Paris apartment, up to anything more than daydreaming. Though, right now, the moment felt tangible, you could grasp it in your hands if you wanted to. He'd given you a new dream to chase right when you thought you were over.

“You’re looking at me weird,” Wooyoung waved his chopsticks in a circle around your face, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” your eyes fell back to the almost empty plate, moving the last bites of food around.

“I didn’t say it was bothering me,” his voice was lower, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart drop. When you looked up, you didn’t know what to make of his expression. It looked like he was contemplating his following words, and you were all but hanging from his lips. He stayed quiet, eyes downcast on his plate, and shot you a short smile.

You let the radio fill the silence between you, allowing the thoughts to pester your mind. Though, like a cup overflowing, there was little you could do to cage them and push them down.

“Wooyoung, were you-” his eyes rose to meet yours, and you stopped for a second, mulling the question over, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth before spitting it out as if it were a seed that ruined your bite. “Who were you going to open the restaurant with?”

His wide eyes told you all you needed to know, and yet his stunned silence pulled another set of words out of your lips.

“You said you needed a co-owner first…” you rasped, almost shocked you were still talking through the cotton in your mouth. Wooyoung set his chopsticks down, trying to hide the way his hands started trembling, sighing.

“We made a good team, didn’t we?” his voice was quieter, wondering. He shot you an uneasy smile, so short and so small you almost missed it. “I know you’re a great chef and we want this to be a great restaurant.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, feeling the weight of memories unloading on both your shoulders, their presence demanding the unwanted plunging into deep, murky waters. “Does it have, uhm… does it have anything to do with-”

“Let’s not open that can of worms, mh?” He cut you off immediately, sounding a tad harsher than he had before, rubbing salt into your matching wounds.

“I just-” It felt like you were gasping for air, grasping at any lifeline you were afforded, lost in the swirling sea that were his pained eyes.

“I know.”

A mangled victory, or a loss, the way his voice sounded resolute. It allowed no space for you to counterattack, to try and pry any other thought out of him. And you accepted it, simple and plain, with no complaints. You had no right to. Nodding, you averted your eyes, affording him space.

“I-” Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conflict in his mind was reflected on his face clear as day. Before his eyes were back on you, they looked around the room. “I missed you.”

Bearing his heart, that was what he was doing. It felt like, despite everything, he was still offering you a small piece of it. Your breath caught in your throat. Three words that held huge implications and a heavy past. One right answer, a truthful one, that could sound highly hypocritical of you. But you had to say it.

“I missed you, too.”

Wooyoung smiled, small and tentative, but still as warm as sunshine. You smiled back.

The night was as cold as you felt despite having his arms wrapped around you, offering you shelter from the biting wind. Tonight the twinkling lights of the city below you couldn’t offer their usual comfort. You knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened your mouth to speak; you’d be breaking his heart along with yours. But you had to, hadn’t you? Wooyoung would understand.

“Don’t you want to stay here forever?” He mumbled in your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. You kept staring out at the Parisian lights, heart sinking with every beat.

“I-” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing there was a way to prevent the hurt you were about to put him through. Never mind about yourself, all you cared about was him. Always him. Then why are you doing this? Sounded something in the recess of your mind. You shushed it. The lump in your throat formed out of the blue, making it hard to utter the next words.

“I wish I could,” you whispered, hoping your words would get lost in the wind, bracing for impact when you felt him tense and pull away from you. A gust blew by, chilling you to the bone now that he wasn’t holding you anymore. The look in his eyes sparked burning regret in your heart, setting it aflame.

“What do you mean?”

He had taken a step back, confused eyes searching for yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you were about to break all the promises you’d made right along with his heart. What a coward.

“I was offered a job in New York,” you began, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “I took it… I leave next week.”

When you finally mustered enough courage to look back at him, you saw betrayal shining clear in his eyes, swirling in disbelief, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. It was almost as if you could hear his thoughts, and each of them cut a deeper wound.

How could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I would've been happy for you. We could’ve made other plans.

“Were you just going to disappear from my life forever, then?” He spat, a little angry, a little sad.

“No, Wooyoung, I-” you tried to reason, knowing very well that no excuse would hold. He scoffed bitterly, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jacket like a hurt kid. Already hard to talk through the burning in your throat, the tears springing in your eyes didn’t make the task any easier.

“Save it,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for there,” he made to go, but you couldn’t let him, not yet.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” He stopped dead in his tracks; you’d said the wrong thing. But you couldn’t hide your hand now that you’d thrown the stone. “Is it not our dream to learn and travel when all of this is done?”

Wooyoung shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, and to some extent, you couldn’t either.

“No, I wouldn’t have, Y/N. It may be your dream but it isn’t mine. Not anymore, not since I met you. So, yeah, I would’ve given it all up,” he all but yelled, each word was like a punch in the gut. Despite the noise of the city below, the beat of silence that lingered sounded louder than any of it.

“Go to New York, love. It’s your dream after all,” he conceded, voice dying down and broken, softer, like some sort of realization had dawned upon him. He blinked away his tears, still, you refused to let yours fall.

In a second he was close to you again, his smell and warmth engulfing you once more. A sob broke through you when you felt his arms wrapping around you tight, and another was pulled from you when one of his hands came to softly rake through your hair. Wooyoung surrounded you with all he was, holding you tight, almost as if he loved you. Almost, you thought, because you knew the difference, for you had felt what it was to be loved – truly loved – by him. But you went and broke it. Now, you had to put love out of the question, and think only of duty. You had made your choice, after all, and he knew it too.

“Goodbye,” in an instant you were left on your own, cold, and watched as he walked away from you, his whisper resonating in your soul, breaking it with each echo.

If you chose to follow your dream, then why did it hurt so much?

Sundays used to be your day off. You’d wake up at midday, usually to a ray of sunlight harshly shining into your face until you could no longer bear its warmth. You’d roll out of bed and lazily proceed to tidy your apartment and rot on the couch for the remainder of the day. Now, though, you were a restaurant owner and Wooyoung insisted you should stay open on Sundays because two out of three of the restaurants in your area were closed. So, you rolled out of bed, taking just one second to admire the first rays of sunlight shining through the fading, dark night sky. You sped through your routine and breakfast, having sacrificed that slot of time in favor of five more minutes of sleep.

Despite the fast-approaching summer, the morning air was still rather chilly, and much quieter than the rumbling of cars and city rustle that you were used to. You didn’t have to squeeze past sleepy teenagers and angry old ladies on the bus and got to choose which seat to sit in. You didn’t mind early Sundays.

In no time you’d open the restaurant. Today you’d convinced Seonghwa and Yeosang to drop by for lunch; you needed them to test out the menu you and Wooyoung had carefully crafted. Of course, at the mention of free food, both of them agreed, so there wasn’t much convincing involved after all. A sort of test run before the grand opening.

The restaurant stood before you in the quiet street, looking close to the eye. You smiled proudly, producing the key from your bag, opening the door, and closing it behind you after walking in. The room was quiet, the only indication of someone being in there was the rustle and faint light coming from the kitchen.

“Hey, Woo,” he was already there, setting out pans and pots. You walked in, reaching for your jacket.

“Hi!” Although his head was hidden in a cupboard, you could hear his cheery voice loud and clear. “Are you ready?”

When he emerged, he was sporting a happy smile, contagious enough to make you chuckle.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Wooyoung smiled at you, beckoning you over to the station where a copy of the menu lay. You sure had your work cut out for the day. Up until then, between the furnishing and taking care of the more bureaucratic aspect of opening a restaurant, cooking together hadn't been common. You were thrilled to finally share the kitchen with him again.

“Hey! The rolling pin is there to keep you off my half of the counter,” you huffed, trying your best not to let your irritation show. Not while you were trying to close dumplings perfectly.

“Oh, come on!” He protested, “I can’t believe you’d still do that, look at how much space we have!”

“Yeah, and somehow, you’re still taking up most of it,” Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, finally moving a few of his bowls and pans to make space for you.

“Gee, thanks,” although you weren’t trying to rile him up, you still ended up falling back into old habits.

“Oh my-” he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, moving a couple more things, “You’re the bane of my existence.”

“You literally asked me to be your co-worker!” You laughed, shocked, but amused.

“And there’s not a day I don’t regret it,” with his nose in the air, trying and failing to hide a smile, Wooyoung resumed his meat slicing. You scoffed, not really offended. It was so easy to breathe when things felt as light as they did. A smile threatened to open up on your face, but you had an act to keep up.

Silence used to be rare between the two of you, yet you liked it now. There was no awkward space to fill anymore, not a single word to be wasted. You worked in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, chuckling at Wooyoung’s occasional jokes and exchanging instructions. It felt good. It felt like it used to.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him as you finalized the prepping for the second course. Wooyoung looked up, flashing that smile of his that could rival the sun.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Are you?”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the bowl under your nose. The sauce you prepared to marinate the fish had a pungent note it shouldn’t have had. You didn’t notice him slipping closer to you, right at your side. Wooyoung was leaning on the counter, facing you.

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” his voice aimed to soothe, and it did, sweet like honey. “Are you or are you not one of the best chefs in town?”

You looked up at him, scoffing, ignoring the heat on your face that his closeness brought along.

“See, now you’re exaggerating!”

“I’m not.”

“Are, too!” A soft laugh escaped the two of you, and when he looked at you, eyes so full of hope and happiness, your breathing stopped for just a second. “But you’re right, it’s gonna be okay, I’m just… I don’t know, I want them to like what we made.”

“They’re gonna,” he shrugged. Only when you gave him a questioning look he answered. “Because we made it.”

It looked like Wooyoung still knew what to say and when to say it to put your nerves at ease.

“Can I have some more?”

“Me too!”

“You can’t ask that!”

“Says who?”

“Alright, we’ll make it,” Wooyoung quelled the discussion that was about to start quickly, coming back into the kitchen with empty plates.

Two of his friends had joined yours for lunch, not that the food was lacking, but it seemed that Yeosang and San had promptly bonded over their love for one particular dish. Gamjatang, which wasn’t even on the menu, the two were just bottomless pits, apparently. The only one coming to your aid with restaurant etiquette was Seonghwa, whose reprimanding went unheard. Hongjoong stuck to silent side-eyeing, which barely helped.

“Should we consider adding it to the menu?” Wooyoung joked, coming over to the stove where you stood, already heating up what was left of the broth from the previous batch. You thanked your lucky star you had some ready, or else they’d had to wait hours to eat.

“Let’s make it available only after eleven, though.”

He laughed, reminding you how you closed at midnight while washing and cutting up the mung bean sprouts, crown daisy leaves, perilla leaves, and green chilies you needed to add later on. You went for the pork bones, potatoes, and cabbage leaves.

Wooyoung set his bowl of vegetables close to the stove, ready for you whenever.

“Do you need more seasoning base?” He asked as you put your portion of ingredients into the pot.

“Yeah, there’s not much left,” you looked at him, waiting for your word to start. “Thanks.”

He smiled, getting to work quick.

As everything simmered and cooked, the two of you stood in front of the stove, silent, side to side. Outside, you heard your friends all talk and laugh, but they sounded miles away. Once again, you thought you knew what was running through his head. The night when he taught you how to cook the dish, the way he followed your every step with an encouraging smile. How your heart fluttered when he kissed your lips right after his first bite, saying that there was no way he was ever going to cook it again if yours tasted much better. How one night you tipsily tried to cook it together, almost spilling the batch of broth you saved in the fridge and ruining it all, but could only laugh until your stomachs hurt because somehow it was the funniest thing ever. After all, they plagued your thoughts as well.

When the timer went off and he looked at you like a deer caught in headlights, you smiled, trying to ease away the tension that had bubbled up, going to kill the flame and plate the dish.

You passed him a full bowl with shaking hands, praying he didn’t hear the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Maybe you should take away the wine,” Seonghwa sported a light frown on his lips when you made your way to the table with the other bowl in your hands. You furrowed a brow, noticing the way San and Yeosang were giggling a little too loudly, and how the former was particularly flushed, only after setting the dish in front of him.

“Good idea,” Wooyoung snickered, scurrying back into the kitchen with the bottle. You watched him go, debating if to follow or give him space. You decided to stay, asking your guests how they liked the food.

Seonghwa ended up giving you precious input and feedback, over the laughter coming from the opposite end of the table. It made you smile. Despite how interested you were in your friend’s recap of the things he appreciated the most about appetizers, you couldn’t help but glance a little worriedly at the kitchen doors from time to time. Wooyoung was still in there.

“Alright, we should go,” Hongjoong, who had simply complimented your cooking with a polite smile, spoke up after a while. San protested a little but stopped his efforts to stay pretty quickly when his friend said he was going to have no ride home.

The two made their way to say their goodbyes to Wooyoung in the kitchen, leaving you with your friends.

“We should go, too,” Yeosang stood, walking over to the doors with you and Seonghwa.

“Thank you guys for coming,” you quickly hugged them both. “Drop by whenever.”

“You know I will,” Yeosang giggled, making you smile.

“Keep it up!” Seonghwa said, walking out first. You waved them both off, and when you turned around, you were faced with San and Hongjoong. The former complimented your food, saying he’d bring over friends and family, rambling a bit. You giggled as he spoke, thanking him.

“Thank you for having us, the food was delicious,” Hongjoong watched over San making his way out of the restaurant after saying his goodbyes, turning to you with a small smile. “Can I ask one thing of you?”

Your brow furrowed, but you nodded quickly. He sighed.

“I know you two have a complicated past,” he started, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. “And I see you’re doing great despite it, so, please, just… don’t hurt him again.”

“I would never,” you were furiously nodding, suddenly your throat felt a little dry, hands all clammy.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiled, walking out as well, leaving you dumbfounded and staring at their disappearing figures.

You waited in silence for a while, mulling his words over in your head. When you turned around and saw Wooyoung leaning against the kitchen door’s frame with a bright, wide smile adorning his lips, the sight almost gave you a heart attack. He laughed loudly seeing your spooked reaction, making a smile appear on your face. His laughter only served to make your heart stutter like butterfly wings, having barely recovered from the surprise, making you giggle as well.

Wooyoung looked so happy that you felt you could burst at the seams.

“They liked it!” You could barely contain your excitement as you locked up and started to make your way over to him, almost with a skip in your step.

“They did,” he smiled back, eyes scanning your figure until you were right up in front of him. Not even thinking twice, you let your arms sneak around his shoulders, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. You even swayed side to side. Wooyoung laughed happily, his own arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“I’m so happy,” you murmured when your excitement quelled. Your chin was resting atop his shoulder, and his on yours. When he spoke, quietly, you could hear the smile on his lips right against your ear.

“I’m glad,” he said. “Me too.”

It was quiet. For the first time since that morning there were no friends laughing at the table, no bickering in the kitchen along with the sizzling of the pans, chopping on the cutting board, and rumbling of the pots.

Just you and him.

Your heart was still racing, over the moon for the success of your menu, but also quickened by his close proximity. Once realization struck that you’d pulled him into you, you were quick to let go, though his arms around your waist wouldn’t let you wander far.

“Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” the look in his eyes was enough to send your heart to your feet, air stuck in your lungs, and take you back in time, just for a second. It was all it took for you to want to pull away from him as if you’d gotten shocked. You found that you couldn’t. Not when Wooyoung held you a little tighter, searching for anything in your eyes that would prompt him to stop leaning even a breath closer.

Frozen in time, in your spot, your grip on his kitchen jacket grew impossibly strong.

When his nose softly brushed against yours, as if he’d sensed your mind wandering far and wide and wanted to bring you back to him, and you saw how his half-lidded eyes were holding a simple question, you pulled back.

“Should we get to cleaning up?”

Wooyoung’s eyes closed, for a fleeting second, before he started nodding.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be here all night,” he cleared his voice, arms falling from around you. He offered a smile so small that it barely showed, the moment gone as soon as it came. You watched as he disappeared behind the kitchen doors, shoulders dropping and eyes falling close.

You gave yourself a moment, just one, to relish in his closeness. The closest he’d ever been to you in years, something that used to be so familiar and still sparked the same goosebumps, the same erratic heartbeat. You sighed, following after him.

You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t for a good week.

Between the imminent opening of the restaurant and the newfound awkwardness between you and Wooyoung, your head was so full of swirling thoughts that, as soon as you closed your eyes, it prevented you from enjoying one singular night of rest. They just kept going, growing into a never-ending spiral of what-ifs and exploding into a hurricane of beating yourself up.

By now you’d given up on trying to make sense of your feelings. All you knew was that you wanted to keep Wooyoung to your side, co-worker, friend, or lover, it didn't matter. Now that he was back into your life, you didn’t want to risk losing him again. Though, it got increasingly hard to ignore how you wished he would stay with you once you closed the restaurant. How you wanted him to hold you like he used to, how you wanted to tell him every day just much of your love and devotion he had.

It was still dark outside when you closed the door to your apartment behind you. Almost without thinking, you’d thrown the covers off of yourself and gotten out of bed, put on the first clean clothes you found, and got out of the house. The cold, crisp air of the night hit you right in the face, waking you up like an icy splash of water would have. You pulled your jacket closer around your body, starting the walk to the restaurant. The keys jiggled in your hand, one of the few sounds in the lonesome streets.

Your heart had decided the way for you before your mind could catch up.

You’d always found solace in cooking. It allowed your mind to relax, and think about what was right in front of your nose, slicing through all your doubts and worries like a knife. With each step you followed, each accomplished passage towards the perfect result, you felt lighter and lighter. Then Wooyoung came along. Never could you have predicted that something else in your life would’ve been able to bring you the same comfort and brightness as cooking.

Whatever peace and happiness you’d found in your passion, you’d also found in him. He set you alight. You’d been dumb and wrong enough to think that the feeling that came along with him could be replaced.

But how could it? Once you let go if it, of him, Wooyoung had haunted all of your what-ifs. All of your darkest nights could only brighten up if you thought of his infectious laugh, his soft kisses, and his kind words.

Reaching the restaurant brought you back out of your thoughts. You were here now, by some fateful design, with him again. You’d do anything not to lose your brightest star again.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You closed the backdoor behind you with a jolt, not expecting Wooyoung to be sitting at a table, illuminated only by the light coming from his beloved lamp.

“What’re you doing here?”

Ever so slowly, you made your way to him, trying to calm your racing heart. He raised his shoulders, avoiding your eyes a second later, shrugging as if he had no answer to your question. You sat with him, noticing just then the few papers scattered on the wood.

“What’s on your mind?” The question fell from your lips in a quiet whisper, almost afraid to disturb the silence hanging in the air. You still knew him, after all, maybe even more than you gave yourself credit for. He sported that furrow in his brow, the one that lightly creased his smooth skin, that only showed up when something had been bothering him.

“I-” he sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they didn’t waste a single second to find yours. Your mouth went dry.

“You know what I hate most? That sometimes I hate you, sometimes I hate myself, but always I miss you. And I never stopped torturing myself with the same questions over and over, why would you go? Did our dreams mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you?” A bitter, void laugh fell from his lips. “But you’ve gotta move on, right?”

Oh.

Heart in your throat, you were left speechless in front of his innermost thoughts. Thoughts you never imagined could be plaguing his mind still. But how could you miss it now? His eyes were begging for answers, after all this time, as if the dam had finally broken. You couldn’t bear to see them be so pleading, so misty.

“That’s not true, I,” the words died in your mouth as you choked on them. “You must know it,” reduced to a whisper by the weight of truth, you tried to salvage what you’d so carefully rebuilt.

“Do I?” He sounded so helpless, your brain scrambled in all directions to find a way to convey how so untrue it all was. “You left me, Y/N, and sometimes I'm still there.”

A gasp left your lips, his words squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“We’re doing it now, isn’t it enough?”

Wooyoung shook his head, shoulders dropping in disbelief as he scoffed. Despite the dim light, from across the table, you could see his red-rimmed eyes begging you to catch on. You did, you had the second he started speaking, but you’d still said the wrong thing.

“You’re so dense,” head thrown back, hands on his face, you waited for him to speak again. “Tell me why did you go.”

Not a question. Up against the wall, you felt the way your heart fell to your stomach, how nerves were tugging at it painfully. He needed this, and you were willing to give answers.

“I didn’t think,” you started, feeling so small under his gaze. “The only thing on my mind was that I’d made it. Selfishly, I thought you’d understand. I… I never meant to hurt you, and I know it sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. And when you told me to go, for a split second, I thought we could make it. I realize now how stupid I was. How there were at least ten ways in which I could’ve handled it better. I wish I’d fought for us,”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I-” Unshed tears started to run down your cheeks, wetting your mouth with salt. “There’s nothing I regret more than letting you go.”

“We were meant to be, love,” his broken whisper was a sinking stone in your chest. Lifting your eyes to meet his, you saw the tear tracks on his desperate face matching yours.

“But we were not meant to last,” there were few ways you could describe how your heart was hurting as you muttered the words, hand reaching forwards on the table. You didn’t think Wooyoung would hold on to it until he did. Fingers intertwined, you both held on painfully tight as if by letting go you’d get lost in the current the sea of your words had provoked. Each other’s buoy in a storm of unsaid words and unresolved, muddy feelings, so strong that with nothing they could tear you apart.

You cried immersed in the dark silence of the restaurant hall, the place that crowned your dreams, listening to the other’s quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” you choked out again, trying to find his face past your tears. Wooyoung reached out to brush them away, his hands just as soft as you remembered, if not more careful. The moment his skin grazed yours, a shiver ran down your spine, electrified by such simple contact. His hand lingered for a long second, cradling your cheek before all you felt was its cold absence.

He stood up first, only to walk around the table and stamp a kiss on the crown of your head, his hand holding your shoulder. You froze, barely hearing how he murmured something about seeing you in the morning, barely breathing. What you did hear was the closing door, a sign you’d been left alone with your thoughts in the dimly lit room, knowing your ignorance had broken his heart again.

You didn’t know how to fix it.

Standing and cooking side by side felt off again. You were walking on eggshells, treading on a fine line to avoid ticking off another bomb. If the weight of apologizing had been lifted off your chest, something much heavier now resided upon it. Knowing something had changed yet again, all because of how you’d acted. What you’d said.

“You want to make ramen noodles? From scratch?”

In the middle of cleaning up part of the station, you couldn’t help but let surprise seep into your voice. Wooyoung stared, nodding.

“I thought we already made enough to last us at least two days…” You let your words fade out, not wanting to start an argument. His jaw set and you realized your efforts had been in vain.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, at least until our new hires come in,” he shrugged, going to preheat the oven. He really was serious.

You wondered why he was going through with this; you ran out of kansui, which was already hard enough to find, let alone expensive. In its absence, you’d need to prepare a substitute for it: baking soda that had to be baked in the oven for at least an hour to act properly instead of the kansui. It was such a waste of time when you had more pressing matters to attend to. Ones that didn’t need the help of your brigade.

Breathing in deeply and deciding that keeping peace was essential, you assessed how Wooyoung was just lining the baking sheet with parchment paper and spreading the baking soda over it. You went to retrieve the whole wheat and bread flours you’d need in an hour, trying to keep frustration at bay. You’d think about the salt and riboflavin later. When you came back with the sacks, Wooyoung was already cleaning the rolling pins and pasta machine. With a grunt, you set them down on the counter, watching as he jolted in surprise.

“I’ll go call our supplier while we wait on the oven,” you really didn’t mean for your voice to sound so clipped. He seemed not to care, simply giving you a nod and going on with his task.

You left the kitchen almost stomping your feet in frustration, sitting down at the table furthermost from it. Whatever game Wooyoung was playing, it needed to stop now. You had tried time and time again, in the last few days, to get anything out of him. To try and patch things up and salvage them as best as you could. But you guessed he needed time, and with the opening just around the corner, you decided it was best to let him be. As long as you could work well together, everything would be fine.

Except the wall he’d put up was so high that you felt it was impossible to climb it or break through.

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality, reminding you that you needed to find the supplier’s contact and call, murmuring something about being closed to whoever had just come in.

“I figured,” the voice made every hair on your skin stand, plunging you back into prickly, cold, anxious times. As you looked up, you could barely believe your eyes.

“Mr. Hwang,” his name left your lips in an incredulous whisper.

“It’s been a while,” he looked around, coming in. His eyes were inspecting thoroughly everything they could lay themselves on, scrutinizing all that might be out of place, or all that wasn’t, and had the ability to spark envy in an enviable man. “Nice place.”

“How may I help you?”

“I have an offer to make you.”

Wooyoung nearly stumbled on his feet. When he’d walked out of the kitchen to see if anything had come of your call with the supplier, the last thing he’d expected was seeing you sat at a table with your old boss, having a chat, exchanging laughter. He’d quickly retreated, leaving you to it, seeing red. He didn’t need to know what was going on, nor did he want to. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he stared, unable to do anything else, at the timer of the oven ticking by. Every second you sat out there, was a second he needed to reason with himself and find out what the menacing grip that held his heart was. All Wooyoung knew was that he wished you’d walk through the kitchen doors, a bright smile on your face, ready to get back to work.

And when you did, he couldn’t quite figure out the look on your face. He was dying to ask what Hwang wanted, no matter what it was, he needed whatever words you’d utter to soothe his burning curiosity. But you never spoke, keeping up your diligent work even past the timer dinging, through the kneading of the dough, its thirty-minute rest, and the several compressions through the pasta machine. He observed you carefully, like he always had, as you used a long knife to cut the noodles by hand as he was occupying the noodle cutter of the machine. Were you slipping through his fingertips again? His eyes on you had always felt like an encouraging, gentle caress. Always looking after and out for you. Wooyoung never noticed or wasn’t fully aware, that sometimes they still did. More often than not you felt the need to step away, or look away, under his gaze, caving in under his affection.

You felt that you didn’t deserve to be looked at so tenderly, not anymore.

He searched for words to say as the several pieces of dough were turned into noodles, but nothing came to mind. Nothing sounded right, not even in his head. Wooyoung let silence win this battle, preferring to let the whirring of the machine and the slicing of your knife talk, trying to work out all the tangled threads that were his thoughts. It was easy to mess up the noodles and have them stick together in an unsalvageable way; then you’d have to make them into dough again and put it through the machine, compressing it until it was ready to be cut up. He tried to treat his thoughts with the same care as noodles to avoid starting over. But Wooyoung wasn’t having the same luck.

Your muttering from the other side of the kitchen prompted him to look your way, struggling to find some space in the refrigerator for your sheet-pans. He hid his smirk, tossing the last of his noodles with cornstarch.

“Why?” You turned around, hands on your hips, irritation barely at bay. Wooyoung raised a brow, doing his very best at pushing your buttons.

“Why did we make so many fucking noodles when we are stocked full?”

“Because we need them,” he shrugged. “They’re tedious to make from scratch, it’ll make our lives easier.”

“Then you make space for them,” you huffed, hastily walking over to the dishwasher to start filling it with the utensils you’d just finished using.

“What did Hwang want?”

Wooyoung bit his tongue, watching how your back straightened at his question. He’d tried to sound casual, but the question turned out to be anything but. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, the longer he did, the more his nerves tested his peace of mind. Wooyoung watched as you froze, halting your movements, before turning to face him again. The furrow of your brow as you raked your eyes over him accelerated his heartbeat in mysterious ways, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Nothing important,” but it was to him. Wooyoung’s thoughts had taken him places he didn’t want to revisit. His heart had been swallowed with an all-consuming and unkindly familiar pain at the idea of you leaving him behind. Hwang had offered you a lot in the past, afforded you to realize your dreams, he knew that much. What could he give you, then?

“Then why did you take so long talking to him?” One way or the other, Wooyoung had to exorcize the sinking feeling in his chest along with the overpowering green monster resurfacing with all its might. The only way afforded to him now was to venomously spit his words to you.

“I’m not trying to put us in a hard place with our number one competitor,” you closed the loaded dishwasher behind you, coming closer to him, clouding his senses. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes and you lifted a brow, crossing your arms.

“Fine, be that way,” you carelessly threw the towel that was resting on your shoulder upon the counter. “He came back to try and persuade me to work for him again.”

And there they were, the words Wooyoung had feared the most. Someone who would whisk you away from him again as he watched helplessly, feeding into his fears.

“I said no, Woo…” your voice put a halt to every thought drowning him, your eyes full of the same softness your voice was. Giving up the fight, extinguishing the fire of his worries, at the cost of your disappointment. You swallowed the bitter bite. “Did you really think I’d go back, that I’d leave this? That I’d leave you?”

His silence was answer enough. You nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Well, I wouldn’t.”

You weren’t going to let him think like that, not now.

“I wasn’t happy there, and there’s not a single thing he could offer that would make me as happy as you do.”

Wooyoung watched, stunned into silence, while you got rid of your jacket and murmured something about still having to call the supplier. The timid smile you gave him, eyes full of warm hope, moved something inside him that had been slowly waking up ever since you bumped into him down the street months ago.

For so long, he’d tried to move on. In the end, it turned out that you wanted different things from him, and he had to accept that. Wooyoung couldn’t convince you to stay if you wanted to leave. So, with his heart aching and bursting at the seams with the hope that eventually you’d be back, he let you go. There was no way he could describe how he felt when he saw you again. Surprise struck him, leaving him disoriented for a long moment before his mouth spoke for him. As if his body had reacted to the presence of yours, remembering what it felt like to have you close.

No, Wooyoung wasn’t surprised that he so readily welcomed you back into his life. You were trying, that much he could see, but he was, too. There was a battle going on inside his head that left him frustrated and confused when it came to you, to his feelings for you. His thoughts laid their armor down only in your presence. His heart knew you were the only one he’d ever truly loved. A love that bloomed at the wrong time, a fragile flower that didn’t survive the winter. Wilted and withered, you’d left him to mend the gashes.

He did, only if it meant learning how to be without you, burning with the hope that one day, if the time was right, together you could grow flowers anew.

The chance was right there for him to take, and yet. It had taken him just a couple of hours after closing the kitchen to decide he needed to see you, and set things straight once and for all.

“What are you doing here?”

The sun was just about to set, gilded light flowing into your apartment from the window, bathing you in its gold. Wooyoung’s breath caught. For a fleeting instant, nothing else existed besides your confused pout and his erratic heartbeat.

“Can we talk?”

You nodded, opening the door wider to let him in, gesturing for him to follow to the kitchen. The sweet aroma hit him first, enveloping him, and he saw the cutting board in the sink after. It didn’t take him long to figure out you were making blackberry jam.

“You’re stressed,” the words left his lips before he could realize he’d spoken them, your head jerking in his direction as you kept stirring the pot, only to nod right after.

“Well, yeah, the opening’s just around the corner now and we-” your eyes fell back on the stove, briefly avoiding his. “What did you want to talk about?”

Wooyoung hesitated. He didn’t know. Rather, he was sure he needed to make things right. Clean the suffocating air of uncertainty when it came to you and what you were to him. What he was to you. You two were always good at dancing in the dark but now, in the light of day, it was hard to fall back into rhythm.

“I’m sorry about the noodles,” he bit his tongue. Way to start.

How could he say what he wanted to when his head was on fire? Still, you were there, waiting, occasionally stirring your jam, making his heart skip. Wooyoung sighed.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving.”

Your hand halted its gentle movements, he saw your knuckles turning white.

“Wooyoung-”

“No, let me say this,” he was pretty sure his lungs almost failed him when you turned to look at him, wide eyed, hanging onto his words. “I don’t really know how to act around you. At first, I wanted to be mad. Just a little bit, but found out quickly that after the anger was gone, there wasn’t much left. Just the part of me that wondered if you’d ever come back, if you missed me like I missed you. And if I push all the confusion back, it’s as easy as breathing. I never expected to want you with me as much as I do.”

You turned off the flame, walking closer.

“I never meant you any harm,” you were picking at your fingers, almost subconsciously, just like Wooyoung’s hand reached out to twine with yours, halting your nervous motions. “I‘m sorry that I let you down, and that I hurt you.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand with a small sigh, eyes cast on them. “We weren’t meant to last.”

The words bitterly echo in the quiet kitchen, almost lost in the burbling coming from the stove. Wooyoung was tempted to let go of your hand and walk out the door, fragile like a house of cards, as if it cost him his whole heart to tell you the truth. To expose his confusion in fear it may be an imposition.

“No, Woo, not when I was so confused and only put my dreams first. Not when we had so much that we would’ve held each other from,” your watery smile hit him square in the chest, your words feeding his worries. “But I think we were always meant to be. I still… I’ve always held so much love for you.”

Wooyoung stopped breathing, letting the sweet taste of your words wash over him.

“Can we start over?” you asked, tentative, searching his face for any sign that you may have crossed a line. “I want to be by your side, at your pace, we’ll be whatever you want us to be. I wasn't ready then but I am now, and I know it'll take time but I want you to know that I'll be there. No matter how long, I'll always be there.”

The unruled hope, that he’d been fighting to keep at bay, finally broke free and sparked a fire in his chest that swallowed up his heart, holding it in a fierce grip, burning. Your hopeful, misty eyes told him more than words could, more than he could ever dare to imagine. He had longed to see them from this close again.

“Didn’t you say that mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster?”

Behind the carelessly amused shrug of your shoulders, your untamed smile shined with bright happiness. The hand that wasn’t holding his tentatively rose to cup his cheek and Wooyoung wasted no time in leaning in and basking in its warmth.

“I think we’d make it.”

Your promise was enough for him. Wooyoung rested his forehead against yours, finding home in your sweet perfume once again. You were finally back into his arms, to hold and to love. Once your lips met his hesitantly, almost afraid at first but feverishly at last, the sweet and pleasantly tart taste of your kiss assured his head and heart that everything would be alright.

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