#wooyoung oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sungbeam · 27 days

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𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!

nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader

the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.

7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome

a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3

The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.

The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.

“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.

Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.

You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"

He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"

"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”

“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”

“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”

“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.

As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”

You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”

“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”

Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.

“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.

“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”

“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.

“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”

He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”

You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”

“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.

The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.

Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”

“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.

He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”

“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.

You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”

“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”

You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”

“Took you that long to notice?”

You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.

With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.

A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)

“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”

All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.

“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.

“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.

Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”

A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”

From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”

“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.

Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”

“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”

“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”

“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.

You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”

“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”

San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”

Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.

San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?

“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.

His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”

Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”

San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”

For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”

“And why not? He's a nice dude.”

“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”

San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”

“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.

He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.

San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”

Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”

“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”

“So you want me to be a parasite?”

San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”

“Parasitism, it is!”

As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.

Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)

When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.

When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.

You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.

Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”

Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”

Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.

You blinked. What in the world…?

Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”

“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”

Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”

Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.

Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”

“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.

“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”

“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.

Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”

You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.

His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”

“Jung,” you mused back.

“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”

Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”

He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”

Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’

You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.

Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.

“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?

When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.

Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”

His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”

You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.

From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.

“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)

A snort from Hyunjin.

Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”

By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.

Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a paradise about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.

At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’

“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.

From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”

When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—

A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.

You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—

You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.

Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.

“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)

Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.

“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.

He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”

You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.

“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”

You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”

He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”

“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”

Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”

A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.

As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.

But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.

“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”

For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.

Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.

The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.

Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.

Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”

“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”

“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.

“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.

Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”

You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”

“Do I get something in return?”

“I don't know, your jacket?”

He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”

“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.

The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”

“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.

“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.

Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”

It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.

Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.

Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.

Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.

“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.

One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.

Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"

“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”

Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.

Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.

You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”

“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?

Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.

“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”

“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.

His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”

Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”

“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.

Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.

Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.

There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”

Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.

“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”

“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—

San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”

“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)

San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.

Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.

You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.

Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”

“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”

You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”

The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”

“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.

A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”

He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.

You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”

“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.

You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.

Your car doors slammed in tandem.

“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.

The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.

There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)

Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.

You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.

A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.

You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”

“Uh oh,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.

“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”

“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.

“You're not wrong.”

Your head tilted to the side. “So?”

“So?”

You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.

Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”

“Huh?”

“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.

Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.

At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”

You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”

“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Jung. Jung, wait—”

“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”

“Wooyoung.”

He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.

Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”

“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.

“Hey!”

He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”

You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.

“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”

He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”

In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”

“I like you—I do.”

“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”

In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.

Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.

You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”

“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”

“What's that?”

“I think I like being your lover boy.”

You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”

Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”

“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”

How could you refuse?

He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.

When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.

“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.

God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.

When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.

“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.

He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”

“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3

atz m.list

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beenbaanbuun · 1 month

Text

enemies w/ wooyoung

“i can’t believe i have to share a room with you,” wooyoung spits as he dumps his bag on the floor at the side of his bed. he wastes no time in throwing himself down onto the matress, keeping a stern aye on you as you make your way inside, “out of all the people on this trip, its you.”

you scoff as you follow him, slamming the door in your wake. trust you to draw the same colour marble as him. jung fucking wooyoung. number 1 on your hit list ever since the very first time he pulled your hair in junior school. hatred may have been a strong word, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough for the way you feel about him.

and now you have to spend the next week of your life in a combined space with him. perhaps you’ve done something wrong that the universe is punishing you for. maybe it’s a curse, or some evil spirit messing with you. you’re not entirely sure, but either way you’re certain something is out for your blood.

“the couch is available if you want it,” you snarl, barely able to keep a modicum of civility when it comes to wooyoung. there’s just something about him that makes you so inexplicably mad, “you know, if you have that much of a problem with me.”

“i’m fine here, actually,” he puts his hands behind his head in a display of arrogance. it’s difficult not to go over there and slap it out of him as you move to sit on your own bed, “but you can go and sleep there if you want; you won’t find me stopping you.”

you scoff, “what exactly is your problem with me?”

it’s hypocritical of you to ask that, you know. if anyone has the problem, its you. you’re the one who’s always fought against him; eye rolls and back handed comments the only things you give him whenever he’s around you. and you’re the one who’s always arguing with him over the tiniest of things, even if you know deep down that he’s actually right. some days you can’t even find a reason behind your incessant need to hate him, but that never stops you.

he’s just so annoying.

“you’re a stuck up little princess,” wooyoung supplies with that cocky grin still spread across his face. god, what you wouldn’t do to wipe that away and put him in his place; it’s almost a desperate need that you have to knock him down a few pegs.

“anything else, youngie,” you throw the nickname at him like it’s an insult. he catches it effortlessly, chuckling at your attempt to throw him off.

“yes,” he pushes himself from the mattress, sitting himself up straight so he can look at you; look down at where you lay on the bed beside him. so cute, with your arms crossed over your chest in a petulant attempt to act tough in front of him. it doesn’t work, your little act. not with the way your arms push your tits together, making your cleavage look so fuckable. wooyoung’s dick twitches in his sweatpants, “most of my problems are about you, actually.”

cliche, you think as you roll your eyes; of course he thinks you’re the cause of all his problems. just because he doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean he has to blame everything on you.

still, you’re curious.

when he starts talking again, you’re all ears.

“like how you think you’re so tough when you’re being a condescending little brat, when actually it just makes me want to pull you over my lap and make you scream,” the words take a second to sink in, but when they do, your jaw drops. he smirks, “or when you bite your lips when you’re mad; it just makes me think about how pretty they’d look wrapped around my cock.”

you can’t help the way your eyes flicker to the crotch of his sweats. he’s hard, or halfway there at least. fucking huge too, by the looks of it. you dart out your tongue to lap at your dry lips. holy fuck, what’s happening to you.

“and do you know that i see these pretty little things in my dreams?” a single finger brushes gently over your nipple, hard and visible through the thin material of your t-shirt. you suck in a sharp breath, barely catching a moan before it slips out, “wake up covered in my own cum every single time. dream you is just such a good little slut for me.”

the hand that sits gently on your tit begins to move, climbing gently up your chest until it lands on your neck. he squeezes down lightly, your head spinning under the barely there pressure.

“it’s a shame real life you takes a little more taming, hm?” wooyoung drawls as he bends down to your level. warmth spreads across your face as your lifelong enemy blows a stream of cold air over your face, chuckling to himself when you shiver.

how the fuck had you let this happen? one second you’re sure you had the high ground, and the next you have a hand around your throat and wetness leaking from your pussy. part of you wants to fight back. spit in his face and push him away. set a boundary and let him know that this, whatever the fuck this is, will never happen.

what scares you is that an even bigger part of you is begging you to give in.

and it’s a really shame that you’ve never been very good at saying no to yourself. it makes it borderline impossible for you to listen to that ever-shrinking part of your brain that’s telling you to run.

“wooyoung,” you whisper, although youre not even sure of your next words yourself. you haven’t decided whether this is going to happen or not. whether you’re going to let him tame you like he so clearly wants to. you open your mouth, hoping to all that is holy that you make a good choice.

“what do you want, baby?”

“fuck me,” you say.

oh…

“such a good girl.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung oneshot

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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

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

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)

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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!"

966 notes · View notes

dees-writing-corner · 8 months

Text

ink and needles

pairings: tattoo artist! bf! wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2890

main masterlist

“Hongjoong, will you stop pacing?” Exasperated, I stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve made my floorboards at least 3 shades lighter. Now can you please tell me why you’ve barged into my house at 3 o’clock in the morning with the intention of putting a dent in my living room floor?”

“Okay, so, remember that little trip we have with some of the boys on Saturday?”

Curling back into the corner of the sofa, I nodded, “Yeah, what about it?”

Hongjoong smiled awkwardly as he inched away from me, “Well, um, some of the boys has turned into all of the boys.”

Raising a brow, I sent him a look, “Okay? Why are you getting so worked up about that?”

“It means Wooyoung’s gonna be there as well.”

“So?”

Hongjoong frowned as he looked at me, “You’re alright with Wooyoung being there?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Standing up, I made my way back into my bedroom, Hongjoong trailing behind me as he turned off the lights.

“I - uh- I just, you two have a love-hate relationship going on, just thought that you might want to get away from all that while you're trying to relax.”

Pulling my duvet back, I paused before looking up at Hongjoong, who was leaning against the wall, “Wha-? Why would you think that?”

Slipping into bed, I looked at Hongjoong as he made his way to the door.

“You two bicker. A lot. Every time you see each other, you bicker. Doesn't it get tiring sometimes?”

“It’s just how we are. I mean, yes, he knows how to get on my nerves, and can sometimes not know when to stop talking, but he’s a good b- a good friend. I wouldn't change it for anything.”

Turning my back to him, I reached my hand out and turned off the lights.

"You know where the guest rooms are, now goodnight, Joong."

I watched as Hongjoong slid into the passenger side of the car before I looked at Wooyoung in the backseat grinning.

Leaning down next to Hongjoong's window, I raised a brow at both him and Seonghwa, "You two do know that you've just assigned yourselves a death sentence by putting Wooyoung and I in the same car, right?"

Sliding into the seat next to Wooyoung, I watched as Seonghwa adjusted the rear-view mirror before backing out the driveway with a nod, "Yeah, yeah, just don't bicker the whole way there or else I'm gonna be throwing one of you out."

Casting a glance at Wooyoung, I nodded, "As long as he knows when to shut up, we'll be fine Hwa."

Wooyoung pouted, putting a hand on his chest dramatically as he leaned over to me, "How could you say that about me?"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed his face away from mine, "Oh, hush, ask anyone in our friend group what your favourite pastime is and they'll say trying to rile me up."

I could see him nod in my peripheral vision, "True, I like seeing you all riled up, you get all pouty and it's cute."

Making a sound from the back of my throat, I turned to look at him, "I don't pout when I'm annoyed."

Wooyoung was about to say something when Hongjoong cut in, "You do. You furrow your brows and then start pouting."

Looking over to Seonghwa, I saw him nod along, "Yeah, they're right." Stopping at a red light, he glanced back at me and grinned, "You're doing it right now."

Pausing, I realised that, yes, I was indeed pouting.

Running a hand over my face, I glared at the three men laughing at me, "Why are you guys ganging up on me today?"

I felt Wooyoung put his hand on top of my head as he ruffled up my hair, "Because it's fun."

Swatting his hand away, I tried to smooth down my hair, "Stop it. I just washed my hair this morning, and if it gets all frizzy because you did that, you and I are gonna have a talk, pretty boy."

Chuckling, Wooyoung pushed my hands out of the way before running his own over my hair, "Your hair's fine sweetheart."

I could see Hongjoong share a confused look with Seonghwa before he glanced back at us. Ignoring it, I chose to concentrate on my phone.

Replying to the messages Mingi sent me, I felt a presence next to me. Turning my head to the side, I frowned when I noticed Wooyoung's face right next to mine.

Glancing up at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I kept my voice low, "What are you doing?"

"Quick question."

Feeling his lips brush the shell of my ear, I leaned back slightly, "What is it? And can you please quit breathing down my neck, it tickles."

Wooyoung chuckled slightly, "Whatever you say. I just wanted to ask if we're telling them tonight?"

"Yeah?" Turning my head to look at him, "When else are we gonna tell them? I don't think you can keep your hands to yourself for two days, Woo."

Wooyoung smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he thought of something, "Hmm, I definitely won't be able to."

Arriving at the holiday house late in the afternoon, everyone had just about enough time to settle into their rooms before our dinner would arrive.

Exiting the bathroom, I noticed Wooyoung sitting in my bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Making my way over, I sat down next to him, "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Grinning, Wooyoung put his phone down and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, "Just came to see how my pretty baby's doing."

Scrunching up my nose at the nickname, I let out a small chuckle, "I should be the one asking you that. You're the one that's been scared to tell them."

Tightening his arm around my waist, Wooyoung nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, "That's only because I'm afraid one of them is gonna castrate me. They're all like overprotective brothers and it's scary."

Wiggling out of his arms, I stood up from the bed, holding a hand out to him, "Come on, let's go down, they're probably already in the kitchen."

Wooyoung latched on to my hand, pulling me out of the bedroom and downstairs. As we rounded the corner to the kitchen, we paused when we heard Hongjoong talking.

In the kitchen, the rest of the boys were setting up the table ready for dinner as Hongjoong and Seonghwa took the food off the serving carts, "No, but something felt strange between them. Hwa, back me up here."

Seonghwa set the last plate on the table with a shrug, "Yeah, they were acting a bit weird. I mean, they were still bickering, but also, like, flirting."

Everyone looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa in disbelief as Yeosang let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, flirting? Those two? Okay, Wooyoung might come off a bit flirty at times, but that's because he's Wooyoung. It's not like Y/N flirts back."

Hongjoong simply nodded, leaning against the kitchen island, "Yeah, that's what normally happens, but Y/N called him 'pretty boy' today."

Sharing a look with Wooyoung, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Shaking my head, I entered the kitchen with Wooyoung following behind me.

"And what are we talking about?"

The sound of my voice startled them as they whipped their heads towards us.

Jongho's eyes flickered between Wooyoung and I before glaring at Wooyoung when he caught something in his expression, "No."

I felt Wooyoung snake an arm around me, grinning up at Jongho, "I'm gonna have to say, yes."

Jongho threw his head back as he let out a groan, "Ugh, we're gonna have to deal with you two bickering AND flirting?" Jongho made his way to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, "This is going to be a long weekend, beer anyone?"

The others looked at each other before Mingi broke the silence, "Uh, anyone want to fill us in?"

Running a hand over my face, I grinned awkwardly at them, "We're dating?"

Turning on the reading lamp, I picked up my book as I waited for Wooyoung to finish in the bathroom.

"Well," Flinching slightly, I was startled by Wooyoung's sudden entrance, "That went better than I expected."

Looking up, I watched as Wooyoung exited the bathroom, the lettering at the base of his neck and the serpent that curled at his shoulder blade on display.

"Really?" Putting the book down, I arched an eyebrow as he slid in next to me. "What did you think would happen?"

Once Wooyoung was comfortable against the headboard, I sat up, opting to staddle Wooyoung with my arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found purchase on my waist.

"Definitely didn't think Hongjoong was going to point a wooden spoon at me and threaten to hunt me down with one of his easels."

Laughing, I couldn't help but envision Hongjoong chasing Wooyoung with an easel, "What would he even accomplish? Those things are heavy!"

Sliding one of my hands down, I traced the tattoo over his chest as the other played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

Wooyoung picked up the hand on his chest and raised it up to his lips, pressing a kiss at the pulse point, "What's going through that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I raised my eyes to meet his, a shy expression taking over my face, "I wanna get a tattoo."

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up as he looked up at me in surprise, "Yeah? I thought you were afraid of needles."

Humming, I felt Wooyoung's hands slip under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips, "I am, but I want to get one and maybe a few more piercings."

Wooyoung grinned as he nuzzled into the side of my face, lips brushing against my cheek, "Want me to do them for you, pretty?"

Pulling back slightly, I looked at him, "Please?"

Wooyoung pressed a kiss on my lips, leaning his forehead against mine, "Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'll book you in when the new shop opens."

Wooyoung's arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his chest as his lips found their way down the column of my neck.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Turning my head to glance at Hongjoong, I took a step closer to him as we made our way down the street.

“What?” I shrugged, turning to face ahead. “I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for ages. Plus, I want to get a couple more piercings, so, why not?”

Hongjoong looked at me in disbelief, “You’re terrified of needles. You can’t even get a shot without getting all anxious, and you think you can sit through being jabbed continuously with one?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his words, “You’re exaggerating, I’m just not too fond of needles, that’s all.”

Hongjoong moved to hook an arm with mine, “Hmmm. When are you getting it done?”

Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I looked at him with a sheepish smile, “My appointment’s in about 10 minutes, so, um let's hurry up.”

Hongjoong paused for a second before pinching my arm, “You could’ve told me sooner!”

“Yeah, well, uh, we’re here.”

Stopping in front of a glass door, Hongjoong squinted up at the sign above.

“This is Wooyoung and San’s new shop.”

“It is.”

Pushing the door open, Hongjoong and I walked in, taking a seat as San handed me a couple pieces of paper to look through.

“You chose Wooyoung over ME?” Hongjoong whined as he looked at me with a pout.

Not even looking up, I shook my head, "As much as I love you, Joong, the tattoos that you do are too.... extravagant for my taste."

Signing the last piece of paper, I handed them to San before looking at Hongjoong, "Are you staying out here with San?"

Seeing him nod, I stood up and made my way to the last room down the corridor, where Wooyoung's workstation was.

Pushing the door open, I saw Wooyoung moving around the room, getting everything ready for the tattoo. Upon hearing the door creak open, he looked up, a smile making its way across his face when he saw me.

Closing the door behind me, I let Wooyoung wrap his arms around me and press a kiss on my temple.

"Nervous?"

Nodding against him, I stepped back, placing my bag and jacket on the chair next to the door.

"Of course I am."

Wooyoung gave me a soft smile as he motioned me over to the workbench, "Come on, I'll do your piercings first."

Settling down, I clipped my hair back as Wooyoung put his gloves on.

"You want two more helix piercings, yeah? Same ear?"

Nodding, I watched as Wooyoung took a marker out, marking the positions of the piercings in my left ear before setting it down and taking a sterile needle out. Screwing my eyes closed, I turned my head to the side as I held onto the sides of Wooyoung's shirt as he slotted himself between my legs.

Hearing Wooyoung countdown quietly, I let out a small breath before wincing as the needle went through.

"Alright, one more to go."

Once the second one went through, I slowly let go of Wooyoung's shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles as Wooyoung changed out the needles for studs.

Turning to look at him, Wooyoung gave me an encouraging smile as he ran his hand up and down my thighs.

"Ready for the tattoo, pretty?"

Seeing me nod, Wooyoung stepped back from me to prepare his tattoo gun, "You're gonna have to take off your shirt and bra, babe."

Unbuttoning my shirt, I slid it off my shoulders before unhooking my bra. Turning on the bench, I leaned my back against the seat with an arm covering myself.

Wooyoung snapped on a pair of fresh gloves before seating himself on the stool next to me to start prepping my skin, "Ready?"

Casting a nervous side glance, I smiled, "Definitely."

Wooyoung pressed a quick kiss on my cheek before turning on the tattoo gun. Hearing the buzz fill the room, my body tensed slightly, before relaxing under Wooyoung's touch.

Feeling the needle prick my skin, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The tattoo was a simple chrysanthemum design on the side of my ribs, and it didn't take long to complete.

Wiping away the excess ink, Wooyoung leaned back to have a better look before tilting his head towards the mirror, "Go on, take a look before I wrap it."

Hoping off the bench, I made my way to the side of the room where the mirror was.

Scanning my eyes over the design, I smiled, "This is good."

Chuckling, Wooyoung made his way over to me with a bandage in hand, "Of course it does! I did it!"

Chuckling, I waited until Wooyoung finished whatever it was that he needed to do, before turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

"My pleasure, pretty. But why a chrysanthemum?"

Smiling, I let go of him and went over to the bench to slip my shirt back on, "It's the birth flower for November."

Putting my bra into my bag, I turned to see Wooyoung standing at his workstation with a disinfectant spray in hand with a surprised expression, "Oh? So, it's for me then?"

Shaking my head, a fond smile made its way across my face, "I was born in November too, pretty boy."

Wooyoung wiped down the remaining bit of the workstation before walking out the door with me, my bag and jacket in hand.

"Yeah, but I'd much rather think it's for me."

Laughing, I paused slightly when we entered the reception area, "Uh, where are San and Hongjoong?"

Wooyoung picked up a sticky note from behind the reception desk, "Well, they've left already. You were the last one of the day."

Looking out the window, I noticed that it was raining pretty heavily outside.

"Did you drive here, babe?"

Wooyoung handed me my jacket before taking his off the clothing rack by the door, "Yeah, it's parked down the street."

Exiting the shop, Wooyoung locked to door before turning to me, placing his jacket over the top of our heads, "Dinner at mine?"

Seeing me nod, we both darted out into the rain and ran towards his car.

Reaching the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it allowing me to slide into the passenger side, shaking my arms slightly.

Wooyoung got into the seat beside me, shaking his head slightly to get rid of some of the water particles in there.

Turning on the car ignition, Wooyoung turned to me, smiling, "What? You're staring, pretty."

Taking his hand, I pressed a kiss on the back of it, "I love you."

Wooyoung's hand tightened its hold on mine before letting go to tilt my head towards him. He leaned over the centre console, one of his hands finding its way to the back of my head as his lips found mine.

"I love you too."

taglist: @khuyyn (if you want to get updates for my oneshots/imagines, just message/comment)

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez au #tattoo artist au #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung oneshot #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #wooyoung oneshots #ateez oneshot #ateez oneshots

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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.

554 notes · View notes

edenesth · 7 months

Text

Still You

Pairing: ex-bf!Wooyoung x fem!reader (featuring Yunho)

AU: office au (exes to lovers)

Word Count: 15k

Summary: Wooyoung and you unexpectedly cross paths as colleagues in a prestigious design firm. Years after a painful breakup, you're forced to confront your unresolved feelings while working together on a crucial project. Will you rekindle your romance and build a new future together?

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Dreamscape Inc.

The most prestigious design firm in Seoul.

You've dreamed of working here for as long as you can remember.

The sleek glass doors of the office parted with a soft whoosh, welcoming you into the polished lobby of your new workplace. The buzz of corporate life swirled around you, the air filled with excitement and the scent of fresh ambition.

Moving through the sea of strangers, your heart raced with a combination of anticipation and trepidation. You were excited to begin this new journey as a graphic designer in this firm.

With each step, the memories of your high school years felt like they belonged to a different lifetime.

But as you approached the elevator, your heart clenched, and your breath caught in your throat. There, just a few feet away, was a sight that you had never expected to encounter again.

His name echoed in your mind, a name you hadn't spoken in years.

Jung Wooyoung.

Your first love and ex-boyfriend.

Time stood still as your eyes locked onto his figure, frozen in disbelief. He stood there, as if conjured from your deepest memories, with a casual elegance that hadn't faded with the years. His dark hair, still tousled in that way you remembered so well, framed a face that had haunted your dreams for six long years.

For a heartbeat, you thought it might be a trick of the light, a mirage in your mind, but it was him—undeniably him.

His gaze was intense, his eyes penetrating yours with an intensity that felt like a thousand emotions, a million words unspoken. His once-familiar features were etched with the passage of time, but they were unmistakably Wooyoung.

Your heart, which had been pounding with anticipation a moment ago, seemed to seize, and for a split second, you felt it might stop entirely. A rush of memories flooded your mind—laughter in the hallways, stolen kisses in the park, and bitter goodbyes.

The joy, the pain, the love—all of it came rushing back.

The world around you faded into a blur, and it was just him and you, standing there in that dimly lit lobby.

"Oh hey, you're early!"

As you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the spot where your ex stood just moments ago, Yunho's cheerful voice brought you back to the present. He was the friendly HR recruiter who had interviewed you prior to your acceptance of this job.

Yunho extended a friendly hand and a warm smile, which you returned, feeling grateful for the timely interruption, "Welcome to Dreamscape Inc.," He said with genuine enthusiasm, "Alrighty, let us get on with your orientation then!"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering traces of shock and nostalgia, "Yes, thank you, Yunho."

As you stepped into the elevator with Yunho, you couldn't help but steal a quick glance back toward the lobby, hoping against hope to catch another glimpse of Wooyoung. But he had vanished into thin air, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion.

The recruiter noticed your distracted gaze and leaned closer, his voice lowering slightly, "Is everything alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share a fragment of the truth, "I just... saw someone I used to know. It took me by surprise," His eyes held a knowing glint, "Ah, Seoul can be a small world sometimes. You never know who you might run into."

As the elevator doors closed and the car began its ascent, you wondered about the twist of fate that had brought you face-to-face with Wooyoung again. You knew it wasn't a mere coincidence, and deep inside, a sense of anticipation mixed with apprehension churned.

During the orientation, you did your best to push any thoughts of Wooyoung out of your mind.

The day was filled with introductions to company policies, team-building exercises, and discussions about upcoming projects. You tried to immerse yourself in the whirlwind of information, reminding yourself that you were on the cusp of your dream job at your dream workplace.

The past should stay in the past, and now, you should be focusing on your present and the promising future ahead.

As the hours passed, you met your new colleagues, exchanged contact information, and began forming the foundation of your professional network. The friendly and vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape reassured you that you had made the right choice in joining this company.

Yunho proved to be a valuable guide throughout the orientation.

He introduced you to key team members and offered valuable insights into the company's culture and values. His cheerful demeanour and genuine support helped ease your anxieties.

Amidst the introductions and team-building activities, you made a conscious effort to concentrate on the present moment. You were determined to prove yourself as a talented graphic designer and to make a name for yourself in this competitive field.

As the day came to a close and the orientation concluded, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and excitement about your new position.

You were more than ready to embark on this journey of personal and professional growth. Thoughts of Wooyoung, though still lingering in the back of your mind, were overshadowed by the opportunities and challenges that lay ahead.

The past may have resurfaced unexpectedly, but you were determined to keep it at bay, focusing on the bright future that awaited you at Dreamscape.

A week had passed since you started working here, and life within the bustling design firm had settled into a rhythm of its own.

Thankfully, there were no signs of Wooyoung anywhere.

Perhaps he had been here merely as a client representing another company, or perhaps he belonged to a completely different department or division. Whatever the case, you were relieved not to have to work with him.

The thought of navigating a professional relationship with your ex-boyfriend, with whom you hadn't parted on good terms, was a scenario you didn't even want to entertain.

Things had been progressing smoothly in your new role, and you were already forming strong bonds with your colleagues. The camaraderie and support within your team helped you adapt to the fast-paced environment.

Work had yet to become overwhelming, allowing you to dive into projects with enthusiasm and creative energy.

Your days were filled with brainstorming sessions, design reviews, and collaborative efforts that fueled your passion for graphic design. As you engaged with your coworkers, you appreciated the vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape, where creativity thrived, and ideas flowed freely.

In the evenings, you often found yourself attending team outings or joining colleagues for dinner and drinks, building not only professional relationships but also friendships that promised to extend beyond the office walls.

Life at the firm was becoming increasingly fulfilling, and you were reminded of the aspirations you had once shared with Wooyoung during your high school years. It was a bittersweet realisation that the dreams you had held back then were now taking shape in a different context, without him.

As the days turned into weeks, you grew more confident in your abilities and more at ease in your new environment.

The past, though it had momentarily resurfaced, felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the opportunities that the present had to offer. You were on a path of professional growth, and the future was filled with promise.

With how smoothly things had been going, you were quite certain that you might never have to worry about the possibility of seeing or even having to think about your ex-boyfriend again.

Or so you thought.

As you sat enjoying your lunch break with Yunho and your colleagues, Jongho and Yeosang, in the bustling cafeteria, the excited voices of female colleagues from another department caught your attention. Their animated gushing and giggles filled the air, drawing the curiosity of your group.

With raised eyebrows, you exchanged knowing glances with your friends, wondering what could possibly have them so enthralled. Yunho, always the playful one, leaned in with a sly grin, "Well, well, well, it seems like I have some insider information." He teased, enjoying the intrigue he had sparked.

Jongho and Yeosang exchanged amused looks, their curiosity piqued, "Come on, Yunho hyung, spill the beans! What's got everyone so worked up?" The youngest prodded, feigning impatience.

The recruiter leaned in closer, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, "You know the new architect who recently joined our firm? The one who's causing quite a stir?"

Your heart skipped a beat as dread crept in.

Could this really be happening?

It was your ex's dream to become an architect, and you couldn't shake the fear that this popular architect was none other than Jung Wooyoung.

As Yunho negotiated a price with Jongho and Yeosang in exchange for the juicy intel, your mind raced with uncertainty and anxiety. The memories of your past with Wooyoung, the unresolved emotions, and the complicated history that still lingered between you both suddenly flooded your thoughts.

You tried to keep a composed facade, concealing the turmoil within.

The mere possibility that you might have to face Wooyoung again, not as a distant memory but as a colleague, sent shivers down your spine. You wondered if fate was testing you, forcing you to confront a past you had worked so hard to put behind you.

As the suspense mounted, Yunho finally leaned in to reveal the architect's name, and your heart hung in the balance, waiting for the name that could either confirm or alleviate your fears. The name hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before Yunho finally uttered it.

"It's Jung Wooyoung."

A gasp escaped your lips, though you tried desperately to stifle it. Your worst fears had been realised. The architect who had become the talk of the company, the one everyone was gushing about, was indeed your ex-boyfriend.

A flashback to eight years ago swept over you like a tidal wave, transporting you back to a time when your dreams were intertwined, and the world was full of promise.

The stars shimmered above like countless diamonds scattered across the vast canvas of the night sky. You and Wooyoung lay together on a soft, grassy field, your heads nestled on a shared pillow of dreams and ambitions.

His strong arm cradled your shoulders, and your head rested gently on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation, as if the universe itself were whispering its approval.

You spoke of your dreams, your voice filled with the unwavering determination that only youth could bring.

"I want to become a graphic designer," You said, your eyes tracing the constellations above, "I want to bring stories to life through art, to create something that moves people."

He brushed his fingers gently against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"And I," He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I want to be an architect. I want to design buildings that stand as a testament to human creativity and innovation, structures that inspire awe and admiration."

In that moment, under the canopy of stars, you shared not only your dreams but also your hearts. The world felt like an open canvas, waiting for you both to paint it with your aspirations and love. The possibilities seemed endless, and you believed that together, you could conquer anything.

But as time went by, dreams shifted and paths diverged.

The bond that had once been unbreakable was severed, and the scars of your past had taken time to heal.

Now, as you faced the prospect of working alongside the person who had once been your confidant and soulmate, you wondered if destiny was conspiring to reunite you and him.

Back in the present, Yunho noticed your reaction to the revelation about the new employee. He didn't pry or say anything to prevent Jongho and Yeosang from noticing your unease. Instead, he tactfully steered the conversation in a different direction, allowing you some space to collect your thoughts.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the lunch break as your colleagues continued to discuss Wooyoung's fame in the industry and expressed their admiration for his joining the company. It seemed that everyone was thrilled to have such a renowned architect on board.

You found it increasingly difficult to focus on their conversation, your mind a swirl of conflicting emotions.

After lunch, Yunho, understanding the need for a private conversation, walked with you towards your workspace. He looked at you with genuine concern in his eyes and finally broached the subject, "You know, I noticed your reaction during lunch, especially when we talked about Jung Wooyoung. Was he the person you mentioned seeing on your first day?"

You hesitated, feeling a mixture of gratitude for his concern and the anxiety of having to reveal your personal history with Wooyoung. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be honest, "Yes, Yunho. He's... he's my ex-boyfriend from high school."

He nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic, "I see. That must be quite a shock to run into him again after all these years."

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "It is. We didn't exactly part on good terms, and I didn't expect to see him here, of all places."

Yunho placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "I understand it might be difficult for you. If you ever need to talk or if there's anything I can do to make things easier, please don't hesitate to let me know." His genuine concern touched you, and you felt grateful for the support of a friend in this unexpected and emotionally charged situation.

In the days that followed the revelation of Wooyoung's presence in Dreamscape, you were trapped in a constant state of anxiety.

The fear of bumping into him in the hallway or, worse, having to work alongside him weighed heavily on your mind. It felt like an emotional rollercoaster, with every corner turned, you wondered if you'd run into the past you had tried so hard to leave behind.

During this challenging time, Yunho became your confidant and your pillar of support. After all, he was the only one in the company who was aware of your shared history with Wooyoung. The two of you often found solace during your breaks in the pantry, sharing coffee and conversation as a way to alleviate your worries.

On one of those breaks, you couldn't contain your distress any longer.

You sighed deeply and pressed your head into your hands, shoulders slumping with the weight of your anxiety, "What am I going to do when I eventually see him, Yunho?" You confessed, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Yunho, sitting beside you, instantly shifted to comfort mode.

He gently rubbed your back, a gesture meant to provide comfort in your moment of vulnerability, "I understand how difficult this must be for you," He said, his tone filled with empathy, "But remember, you're not alone in this. I'm here to support you, and we'll get through this together."

You looked up at him, gratitude shimmering in your eyes.

His unwavering friendship and understanding were a source of strength in the midst of your turmoil. With him by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope that you could face the looming reunion with Wooyoung, no matter how daunting it might seem.

And as if the universe had conspired to test your resolve, fate finally decided to bring your past into your present.

It was a moment you had been dreading since the day you found out he worked in the same company, and the timing couldn't have been more uncomfortable. Of course, he chose this particular moment when you and Yunho were so close to make his appearance.

The first indication of his presence came with the sudden clearing of his throat, a loud and deliberate sound that sliced through the air.

Your heart skipped a beat, dread gnawing at your insides.

Wooyoung stood there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying a mixture of emotions. It was clear that the sight of you and Yunho together hurt him more than he had expected. Even after all these years, the thought of you being with someone other than him still held the power to inflict pain.

You swallowed hard, your voice failing you in that moment of unexpected confrontation. Yunho, sensing the tension in the air, also turned to face Wooyoung, surprised.

For what felt like an eternity, no one spoke, the weight of the past and the complexity of the present hanging heavily in the air. The reunion you had both feared and secretly hoped for had arrived, but it was nothing like you had imagined.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

As Wooyoung's voice broke the silence, Yunho slowly pulled his hand away from your back, the comforting touch dissipating like a fading dream. His discomfort mirrored your own, but he was quick to step in, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension in the air.

Yunho let out a slightly nervous laugh, his eyes flickering between you and Wooyoung as he tried to avoid an awkward confrontation.

"Oh, no, not at all," He said with a light chuckle, "We were just discussing some work-related matters. By the way, have you two met?" He then introduced you to each other, acting as if he wasn't aware of your past with the architect.

You and Wooyoung exchanged a polite nod and pleasantries, both of you carefully concealing the history that lay between you. It was an unusual scenario, having to pretend that you were mere acquaintances meeting for the first time, but it seemed like the safest course of action.

Wooyoung's gaze, however, remained intense, as if he was trying to read something in your eyes, searching for a hint of recognition or acknowledgement. But you kept your expression neutral, mirroring his façade of polite professionalism.

As the conversation shifted to work-related topics, you wondered how long this charade could last and what it would mean for your relationship with Wooyoung moving forward. The past was no longer a distant memory but a living presence in your everyday life, and you had to navigate these uncharted waters with care.

For your sake, Yunho kept the conversation short, wrapping it up quickly and informing Wooyoung that you had an important meeting to rush to. It was a graceful exit strategy, and you appreciated his efforts to spare you from the awkward encounter.

With a polite nod, you and Yunho left the pantry, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he guided you out. As you walked away, you felt Wooyoung's gaze following your every step. His eyes bore into your back, and you sensed the weight of his unspoken words, the longing that hung in the air.

Once you were out of earshot, Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, his heart clenching uncomfortably.

The desire to have a proper conversation with you, to ask how you had been for the last six years, to tell you how beautiful you still looked—it all weighed heavily on him. He missed you more than you could ever know, and he regretted the way things had ended between you two all those years ago.

As he watched you and Yunho disappear around the corner, Wooyoung wondered if fate had given him a second chance, a shot at redemption. But he also knew that healing the wounds of the past wouldn't be easy, and he would have to tread carefully to earn your trust once more.

Seven years ago, you had been on the cusp of adulthood, filled with dreams and aspirations for the future.

You and Wooyoung, once inseparable, had shared hopes of achieving those dreams together. But there was an undeniable change in him during your final year in high school, a growing distance that had puzzled and hurt you deeply.

The two of you had been so close, sharing laughter, dreams, and countless secrets. It was a bond that you had believed was unbreakable, forged through years of trust and shared experiences. But as time passed, his warmth and affection started to wane, replaced by an unsettling aloofness.

At first, you had brushed it off, thinking it was just the inevitable growing pains of young love. But the chasm between you continued to widen, bit by bit, like a silent storm on the horizon. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it had all begun to unravel, but you knew something had changed.

It wasn't until graduation day, a day that should have been filled with celebration and joy, that the truth came crashing down.

Wooyoung had taken you aside, away from the cheering crowd and the tearful farewells of your classmates. His eyes, once so warm and full of affection, were distant and cold. The contrast was stark, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He cleared his throat, the sound hollow in the otherwise bustling background, "Listen," He began, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar detachment, "I think we should break up."

Your heart seemed to stop, the world around you growing hazy as the weight of his words sank in, "Break up?" You repeated the words, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding your eyes, "Yeah," He replied, his tone lacking the tenderness that had once been so characteristic of him, "I think it's for the best."

A wave of confusion and pain washed over you.

This wasn't the Wooyoung you had known for years, the one who had held you close on countless nights and whispered promises of a shared future. It felt as if a stranger had replaced the person you loved.

"But why?" You managed to find your voice, your heartache now mingling with a growing sense of betrayal.

He sighed, a heavy, burdensome sound, "Look, what we had... it was just puppy love. We're young, and we'll both move on easily. Trust me, it's better this way."

The words stung like a thousand cuts, each syllable a painful reminder of the love that had once bloomed between you, now discarded as if it were nothing more than a passing fancy.

You struggled to hold back tears, your chest tight with the pain of rejection and abandonment.

He never explained why he had grown distant or why he believed it was best to part ways. You were left with a gaping wound in your heart, the questions and doubts haunting you for years to come. You had assumed that he no longer loved you, that perhaps he was just falling out of love with you and didn't know how else to break it to you.

It was a moment etched into your memory, a wound that had never fully healed, and now, as you faced the possibility of a new beginning with Wooyoung at Dreamscape, it cast a long shadow over the uncertain future that lay ahead.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, fate had a knack for throwing curveballs your way.

As you settled into your role and joined a new project team, the shock came when you realised that Wooyoung, of all people, was your project manager. The tension in the room was palpable, and the air seemed to crackle with unresolved emotions.

You did your best to act nonchalant and remain professional as you extended your hand toward him, a forced smile on your lips, "Thank you for welcoming me onto your team, Wooyoung." You said, the words carrying an undertone of politeness and nothing more.

He, too, played his part, shaking your hand and responding with a polite, "Of course, it's good to have you on board."

But beneath the veneer of professionalism, you both understood the complexities of the situation. The unspoken history between you hung in the air like a fragile secret, and you were acutely aware of the need to keep it hidden from your colleagues.

The potential controversy that could arise from your past relationship was something neither of you wanted to invite into your already complicated professional lives.

As the days passed and you and your ex-boyfriend were forced to work closely together on the project, you both made a conscious effort to push all personal feelings aside and focus solely on the task at hand. The office became a battleground of professionalism, where emotions were carefully masked and the past was buried deep.

But for Wooyoung, the facade of indifference and professionalism was a double-edged sword.

He couldn't help but wish that you would at least show some sign of emotion, whether it be unhappiness or anger. At least that would mean you acknowledged the shared history between you both. Instead, your ability to pretend as though there was absolutely nothing between you seemed to hurt him more than he would admit.

In quiet moments, when you both were reviewing project details or in meetings with colleagues, he found himself stealing glances in your direction, searching for any hint of the past in your eyes. He longed for a flicker of recognition, a sign that you remembered the love and pain you had once shared.

But your composure remained unbroken, and it drove a deeper wedge between you.

The silence between you both was deafening, filled with the words left unspoken and the emotions suppressed. It was a silent struggle, each of you grappling with the ghosts of your past and the desire for closure or resolution.

One afternoon, as the project team gathered in a meeting room to discuss the progress so far, Wooyoung was busy fighting an internal battle to keep his emotions in check. It was a challenging day with tight deadlines, and the room buzzed with the collective effort to meet them.

His attention, however, was fixated on you and Jongho.

You both worked exceptionally close together, huddled over a design, reviewing it meticulously. Jongho, known for his professionalism and respectfulness, offered his insights and ideas in a considerate manner, never overstepping boundaries.

But to Wooyoung, it felt like a dagger through his heart.

Irrational jealousy gnawed at him, and his chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of you working closely with another person, even though he knew it was purely professional. It was a jealousy born of a deep longing and a desire to be the one by your side, sharing those moments of collaboration and connection.

As he observed you and Jongho, his thoughts swirled with frustration and regret. He wished, more than anything, that you would ask him why he had chosen to break up with you all those years ago. At least then, he would finally get the chance to explain his side of the story, to offer the apology he knew you deserved.

But the walls between you both remained stubbornly intact.

The past was a fragile subject, one that neither of you dared to breach. It was a tormenting silence, filled with unspoken words and the desire for resolution, that hung heavily in the room.

Hours later, when you stepped out of the meeting room alone, heading towards the printer to retrieve a few documents, Wooyoung saw it as his chance to finally speak with you. He understood that it wasn't the most professional setting for such a conversation, but he also knew that opportunities like this were rare and precious.

Determined to seize the moment, he discreetly followed you through the quiet corners of the office, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. When he finally caught up to you, his presence was as sudden as a whispered secret.

You turned, and the surprise on your face was palpable as you realised you were alone with him, far away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The awkwardness in the air was thick, a stark reminder of the emotional chasm that had grown between you over the years.

Your eyes met briefly, but you immediately looked away, unable to sustain the intensity of the gaze. The silence hung heavy, and it was a stark contrast to the joyful moments you had once shared together.

Wooyoung felt a tightening in his chest as he watched you, noticing how uncomfortable and guarded you appeared.

He missed the days when your smile would light up a room and when you would beam with joy in his presence. The realisation hit him like a wave; he had played a significant role in creating this distance between you both, and there was no one else to blame but himself.

With a deep breath, he knew he had to break the silence, to bridge the gap that had grown between you. But the words remained trapped on his lips, the weight of his unspoken apologies and regrets weighing him down.

Desperate to put some distance between you and your ex, you swiftly collected the papers from the printer, your heart pounding loudly in nervousness. Every instinct told you to walk away, to leave this uncomfortable situation behind, but fate had other plans.

As you moved to exit the area, he intentionally positioned himself in your path, blocking your way.

Your heart sank, and your mind raced with questions.

What could he possibly want from you now, after all these years? He was the one who had left you, who had chosen to end what you once shared. So, why was he suddenly resurfacing in your life?

Sighing deeply, you mustered all the politeness you could, your voice tinged with impatience, "Wooyoung, please, move aside."

But to your surprise and growing discomfort, he refused to budge.

When you attempted to push past him, he shocked you by grabbing your shoulders, his grip firm but not aggressive, making you look into his eyes. His gaze bore into yours, and the intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to act like this forever?" He asked, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and vulnerability, "Like nothing ever happened between us?"

The anger surged within you, a tempest threatening to break free from its confines. With great effort, you fought to keep it in check, a silent reminder that you were at work.

Your jaw clenched, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve.

In a quiet but firm tone, you asked, "How dare you ask me that? Did you forget that you were the one who insisted on there being nothing between us? Don't start acting like I was the one who hurt you."

Pain was etched across Wooyoung's face as he attempted to reach for your hand, a desperate plea for understanding.

His fingers brushed the air as you pulled away, stepping back to put some physical and emotional distance between you both. The tears welling in his eyes were painful to witness, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. After all, he was the one who had left you wounded and wondering for years.

With a voice that trembled with regret and sorrow, he began to apologise, his words coming out in a broken tone. He wanted to seize this opportunity to finally reveal why he had grown distant and the circumstances that led to your heartbreaking breakup.

But before he could say more, fate intervened.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Yunho had been passing by and had spotted you cornered by your ex. The uncomfortable expression on your face did not go unnoticed, and Yunho contemplated for a moment before deciding to come to your rescue.

The recruiter approached with a sense of urgency, his voice carrying a tone of concern as he called out your name.

"Hey, I've been looking for you regarding that claim you submitted." He said, creating a plausible excuse related to HR matters. His presence was a welcome distraction, breaking the tense atmosphere that had enveloped you and Wooyoung.

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Yunho's timely intervention. It provided you with an excuse to disengage from the emotionally charged conversation and averted a potentially painful confrontation.

Wooyoung stood there, a mix of frustration and regret swirling within him, as he watched you follow Yunho down the hallway. He cursed himself under his breath, the bitter taste of missed opportunity gnawing at him once again. He knew he had failed to provide you with the explanation and closure you deserved.

With a heavy sigh, he retreated to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect himself. He couldn't shake the feeling of bitterness at your absence, his regret weighing him down as he replayed the missed chance over and over in his mind.

When he returned to the meeting room, he found Jongho still there, diligently working on the project. The expression on his face must have revealed his inner turmoil because the youngest looked up and asked, "Everything okay?"

Wooyoung nodded, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Yeah, just some personal matters to attend to." He replied, though he felt a pang of jealousy at how close you seemed to be growing to Yunho.

He knew he had no right to be upset about it.

After all, he was no longer your boyfriend; he was just the douchebag who had hurt you when all you wanted was to be with him.

As he returned to work, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled within him. The encounter with you had opened old wounds and stirred up emotions he had long tried to bury. Now, as he faced the consequences of his past actions, he wondered if there was any hope for redemption and forgiveness at all.

In the days that followed, Wooyoung tried his hardest to find opportunities to speak with you alone. The weight of the unresolved conversation gnawed at him. He knew he had a lot to answer for, and he was determined to make amends.

But it quickly became evident that you were adamant about avoiding him like the plague. You kept your interactions with him strictly professional, speaking to him only when necessary and making a hasty escape from his presence the moment your involvement was no longer required.

It was clear that you had no interest in rekindling any form of personal connection with him.

Recognising the boundaries you had set, he decided to respect your wishes. He understood that he had hurt you deeply, and he had no right to force himself back into your life. The pain of your separation had been his doing, and he couldn't change the past. So, he gave you the space you needed, even if it meant leaving you alone.

As he watched you from a distance, he felt a profound sense of regret and sorrow.

He knew he had made mistakes, and he couldn't undo the past. But perhaps, in time, he could find a way to make amends and rebuild the bridges he had burned. Until then, he would continue to silently bear the weight of his past actions, hoping for a chance at redemption.

Weeks turned into months, and the distance between you remained.

The workplace had its own rhythm, and you both settled into your roles within the company, maintaining a professional demeanour in each other's presence.

He had resigned himself to the fact that you had moved on, and he had no choice but to respect your boundaries. He watched as you thrived in your role, your talent as a graphic designer shining through in your work. It was clear that you had found your place within the company and were flourishing.

In his own way, Wooyoung tried to do the same.

He dedicated himself to his role as an architect, pouring his energy into designing innovative structures and contributing to the company's success. Despite his professional accomplishments, there was an emptiness that lingered, a sense of unfinished business that weighed on his heart.

While you both had managed to coexist in the same workplace without any overt conflicts, there were moments when your paths crossed, and the unspoken history hung heavily in the air.

Each encounter was a reminder of the past, of the love and pain you had once shared.

As time passed, you sometimes wondered if there would ever be a chance for the two of you to find closure. The thought of reopening old wounds was daunting, but you couldn't deny the curiosity about what Wooyoung might have to say after all these years.

The team-building activity at the famous creek retreat on the outskirts of the city had everyone away from the office for a couple of days. It was a chance to bond with colleagues and build better working relationships, but for you and Wooyoung, it meant being stuck in the same van during the journey to the location.

By this point, you had both grown accustomed to each other's presence and the unspoken tension between you.

Wooyoung occupied the front passenger seat, while you ended up sandwiched between Yeosang and Jongho in the middle row. The initial jokes and laughter that had filled the van gradually faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake.

As the rhythmic hum of the van's engine filled the air, you succumbed to weariness, your head hanging uncomfortably as you drifted into an unplanned nap.

But your ex couldn't just sit by and do nothing when he noticed your head drooping uncomfortably.

He threw a disapproving glare at Yeosang, who was still awake beside you, gesturing for him to help you find a more comfortable position. Yeosang obeyed instantly, and carefully adjusted your head, allowing you to rest more comfortably.

In a gentle and almost instinctive gesture, Wooyoung removed his own jacket and carefully draped it over your hunched figure.

It was a small act of care and warmth, a reminder of the time when he used to take care of you in more ways than one. In that moment, as you slept soundly, he allowed himself to reminisce about the past and the love that had once bound you together.

The van journey continued, the landscape outside passing by in a blur, while inside, a sense of nostalgia and longing hung in the air, and for Wooyoung, a quiet longing to care for you, even if it was only in these fleeting moments when you were unaware.

Excitement bubbled within you as the van finally arrived at the retreat, and the sight of Yunho waiting for everyone only heightened your anticipation. You rushed up to him with giddy enthusiasm, your energy infectious as you exchanged a high-five with the tall recruiter.

Yunho, always the gentleman, made a move to grab your luggage from the trunk, his intention to help you take it to your room clear in his actions. He smiled warmly, ready to assist you in any way he could. But just as his hand was about to reach your luggage, something unexpected happened.

Wooyoung, who had been observing from a distance, suddenly stepped in and swiftly grabbed your luggage, his actions asserting his presence with a possessive undertone.

You froze, a mix of surprise and discomfort washing over you as you realised what was happening.

It was evident that your ex's possessiveness was beginning to surface, and he muttered under his breath, "I'll do it. She's in my team after all; I should be the one to take care of her."

The unexpected tension between Wooyoung and Yunho escalated as both men refused to back down. You had thought Yunho would step aside amicably, given his typically easygoing nature. But he surprised everyone by firmly gripping the luggage, refusing to let it go.

"No, it's fine," Yunho asserted with a determined look, "I am the one who recruited her, after all. By right, I should be the one taking care of her better than anyone."

The atmosphere grew increasingly charged as the two men seemed locked in a silent standoff, each wanting to assert their claim over the situation and their desire to take care of you.

Sensing the tension, Jongho and Yeosang quickly stepped forward to diffuse the situation.

Jongho, with a playful grin, stepped between Wooyoung and Yunho, pushing them apart gently. He then grabbed your luggage with a confident air, "Oh, step aside, you two. I should be the one to handle the heavy lifting. After all, I'm the youngest and strongest here."

With that, the tension in the air began to dissipate, and you chuckled at the unexpected turn of events.

It seemed that your colleagues had a knack for turning potentially awkward situations into light-hearted moments, reminding everyone that this team-building retreat was meant for bonding and camaraderie.

Wooyoung, realising the embarrassment of his own actions at that moment, decided to feign nonchalance, offering a brief, somewhat awkward smile before he hurried off to settle down in his own room. It was clear that the situation had caught him off guard, and he needed some time to collect his thoughts.

Yunho, on the other hand, walked you to your room.

The earlier tension now replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere.

As you both made your way, you couldn't help but ask Yunho why he had fought back against Wooyoung's attempt to help you with your luggage. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words, and there was a moment of silence before he finally replied.

"I just... wanted to protect you from him."

He admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. It was a straightforward response, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

You assured him that Wooyoung would never do anything to hurt you, your words meant to put his concerns to rest. But instead of feeling reassured, Yunho felt slightly bitter. It was as if your defence of your ex-boyfriend had struck a chord with him.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, his feelings for you might have been a little more than platonic.

The protective instinct he had shown earlier had surprised even him, leaving him to grapple with emotions he hadn't fully understood or acknowledged. As he stood with you outside your room, a sense of inner turmoil lingered, and the retreat had already taken an unexpected turn for him, one that would leave him questioning his own feelings in the days to come.

The day at the retreat continued with a series of team-building activities and games designed to strengthen your teamwork and bond with your colleagues.

Unfortunately, you found yourself paired with Wooyoung for most of the day, given that you were in the same team. But it was through these games that you began to let your guard down around him, even if it's only just a bit.

As the two of you were selected to represent your team in a treasure hunt, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The task ahead required you both to focus solely on the challenge at hand, putting aside any personal history or unresolved feelings.

With a shared goal in mind, you and Wooyoung worked together closely, determined to solve the puzzles and riddles that would lead you closer to the treasure. There was a surprising ease to your interaction and a sense of teamwork that transcended the complicated past you shared.

As you ventured through the retreat grounds, following clues with him, you realised that, for the first time in a long while, you were able to enjoy each other's company without the weight of your history hanging over you. The laughter and excitement that accompanied each discovery allowed you to momentarily forget the tension that had defined your interactions at work.

The treasure hunt had eventually taken you along a winding trail through the retreat's serene surroundings, and as you both took a well-deserved break on one of the wooden benches along the path, a sense of ease settled over you both.

He flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with a hint of the playful banter you had once shared.

"You know," He said with mock seriousness, "I thought a decade apart might have improved your riddle-solving abilities, but I guess some things never change."

You scoffed at his comment, leaning back on the wooden bench.

"Oh please," You retorted, a twinkle in your eye, "You should talk, Mr. Impatient. You've always been so quick to jump to conclusions. Remember that time we got stuck in that escape room and you nearly dismantled the whole place trying to find the way out?"

Wooyoung's laughter rang out, and he shook his head, clearly recalling the memory.

"Okay, fair point," He conceded, his expression softening as he allowed himself to reminisce about the past, "But in my defence, I was just trying to impress you with my problem-solving skills."

As your laughter filled the air, he stared at you as if you were the most captivating sight he had ever seen. At that moment, the realisation hit him like a lightning bolt: he missed you like crazy, and he regretted walking away from you all those years ago.

The years apart had allowed Wooyoung to mature and reflect on his actions, and he now understood the depth of his feelings for you.

As he watched you laugh and joke with him, he wondered if there was a chance to make amends, to rebuild what had been lost, and to finally give voice to the apologies and explanations he owed you.

Your ex contemplated using the moment of levity to broach a more serious conversation, to finally address the unresolved issues from your past. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to say those words that had been lingering on his mind for so long, "Listen, I—"

But before he could utter another word, his attempt was abruptly interrupted by the unexpected presence of Yunho.

The recruiter had a knack for appearing at just the wrong times, and this instance was no exception. The recruiter approached you both, his expression was carefully neutral, though an undercurrent of unease flickered in his eyes as he observed the two of you conversing like old friends.

With a teasing grin, Yunho playfully chided, "Excuse me, are you actually slacking off right now?" You immediately sprang to your own defence, "As if! We were just taking a short break!"

The banter between you two becoming second nature.

But Wooyoung's reaction to your interaction with Yunho was far from casual. He couldn't hide his irritation, and his patience had run thin.

In a bold move, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, a possessive gesture that sent a clear message, "Thank you for your concern, but we have a journey to continue on." With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulled you away from the taller male.

As he led you down the path, his grip on your wrist gradually loosened, and he found himself grappling with the tension that had resurfaced in the wake of Yunho's interruption.

It seemed that the conversation he had hoped to have with you would have to wait for another time, and the retreat had once again taken an unexpected turn, leaving all three of you with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

Walking alongside Wooyoung, you were aware of the tension between him and Yunho that had been growing throughout the day, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

It felt like their constant battles were, in some way, a result of your presence and the unresolved emotions between you and your ex. You wished you could find a way to alleviate the tension and make things easier for everyone involved.

At the same time, you couldn't deny the unexpected warmth that had enveloped you since rekindling your friendship with Wooyoung.

The day had reminded you of how much you missed his goofy personality and his ability to make you laugh. It was a feeling you hadn't fully realised until now, and you wondered how different things might have been if only you had remained friends all these years.

As evening fell and the group gathered for dinner, the atmosphere had mellowed, and you all enjoyed hotpot together.

Wooyoung made it a point to sit beside you, and as he cooked, he paid special attention to preparing your favourite food just the way you liked them. It was a gesture that felt oddly familiar, and for a moment, it transported you back in time. You smiled as you watched him, reminded of how he used to take charge of your meals because he was the better cook between the two of you.

At this moment, with the delicious aroma of the hotpot filling the air and his playful banter accompanying it, it felt as though you were back in those simpler times, a time when your bond was unburdened by the weight of the past.

As the complex dynamics between you, Wooyoung, and Yunho continued to unfold, it became apparent to the rest of your colleagues that something unusual was happening.

Yeosang had taken the opportunity to fill Jongho in on the events that transpired during the car ride to the retreat, explaining how Wooyoung had taken special care of you when you were asleep and how he had displayed a level of familiarity with you that was hard to ignore.

Jongho nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed this information.

"I always thought there was something different about the way Wooyoung hyung looked at her," He remarked, his brow furrowing slightly, "It's almost like they knew each other before coming to work here. And I'm pretty sure Yunho hyung knows something we don't."

Your colleagues might not have the full story, but they were observant enough to sense that there was more to the interactions between the three of you than met the eye.

As the days at the retreat unfolded, Yunho observed the interactions between you and Wooyoung with a quiet demeanour.

He fought hard to maintain a neutral expression, not wanting to reveal any signs of his inner turmoil. Despite his efforts, he couldn't deceive Jongho and Yeosang, who were growing increasingly perceptive to the underlying tension.

The two exchanged knowing glances whenever they noticed Yunho observing the two of you closely. They had their own suspicions about the complicated dynamics at play but chose to remain silent, not wanting to intrude on a situation that seemed to be filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved history.

On one of the restless nights during the retreat, you found yourself tossing and turning in your room, unable to find the peace needed to fall asleep. Frustration mounting, you made the impulsive decision to take a quiet walk around the safe surroundings of the retreat.

The night was serene, and the cool breeze provided a momentary respite from the turmoil of your thoughts.

As you wandered through the moonlit paths, you stumbled upon Wooyoung, sitting alone on one of the benches, gazing up at the vast night sky. His silhouette seemed so familiar yet distant, and you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to disturb his solitude.

Just as you turned to leave, he softly called out to you, "Stay with me." His voice carried a pleading whisper. Unable to resist the pull, you retraced your steps and settled down beside him.

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt him lean his head gently on your shoulder. In the silence of the night, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. You could sense the tension and emotions swirling around the two of you.

Breaking the silence, he asked the simple question that had been on his mind, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you here?"

You sighed softly, your gaze fixed on the starry sky, "I couldn't sleep," You admitted, your voice equally hushed. He nodded, "Yeah, I'm here for the same reason," You furrowed your brows at the revelation, "Why can't you sleep? You've never been one to suffer from insomnia."

A moment passed before he finally confessed, "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Your heart raced as Wooyoung moved to take your hands in his, gently turning you to face him. The vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable, and it was clear that he had been waiting for this moment, a moment free from interruptions or distractions.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, and you knew that this was the time to finally have that conversation.

He began by addressing the question that had haunted you both for years, "I want to talk about why I grew distant and why I eventually broke up with you back then."

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his, urging him to continue.

He took a deep breath before delving into his past, a past filled with insecurities and misguided advice.

"I spoke to my brother about my dreams, about wanting to become an architect," He explained, his voice tinged with regret, "At the time, my brother was heartbroken from his own breakup, and he... he told me that love would only hold me back from reaching my full potential."

His confession hit you like a wave of emotions.

It was the answer you had longed for, the missing piece of the puzzle that had haunted your memories for years. You listened intently as he continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

"He told me that if I wanted to be successful in the future, I would have to... to get rid of you."

The revelation was bittersweet.

It was painful to hear that his decision to distance himself from you had been influenced by such misguided advice, but it also provided a semblance of closure, a glimpse into the reasons behind his actions all those years ago.

As you absorbed his words, you felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and, surprisingly, a glimmer of understanding.

Wooyoung's voice was filled with genuine remorse as he continued, "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for everything, for believing my brother's words and letting them dictate my actions. I was such a fool."

You listened intently, your own emotions swirling as he spoke.

"Wooyoung, it was so hard for me too," You admitted softly, "I couldn't understand why you were pulling away, why you seemed so distant. It felt like you were slipping through my fingers."

He lowered his head, his voice trembling as he continued, "I know, and I regret it more than anything. I never wanted to hurt you, but I thought it was the right thing to do at the time."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to gently touch his cheek, "We were both so young and confused," You whispered, "And we made mistakes. But it's in the past now."

He nodded, his gaze meeting yours once more, "It's taken me so long to realise how wrong I was," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "I should have fought for us, not pushed you away."

You gave him a small, understanding smile, "Sometimes we have to go through pain and regrets to truly appreciate what we had. I've learned from it too."

As the night breeze rustled the leaves around you, he took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours, "Thank you for listening, for giving me a chance to explain," With a heartfelt sigh, you replied, "And thank you for being honest with me. It means a lot."

The weight of the past began to lift, replaced by a sense of understanding and a glimmer of hope for the future.

In that quiet moment beneath the starlit sky, you both realised that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to heal old wounds and build something new together.

After the retreat, life at work settled into a new rhythm.

The weight of the past that had lingered between you and Wooyoung had finally been lifted, and you found yourselves getting along better than ever. The resolution of your past issues created a sense of understanding between you, allowing you both to focus on the present and the potential for a future together.

But Wooyoung knew that winning you back wasn't going to be easy, even with your forgiveness.

He understood that the presence of Yunho, who had inserted himself into your life in various ways, posed a strong competition. Observing Yunho's efforts to be close to you, your ex realised that he needed to step up his game if he didn't want to lose you to his rival.

Wooyoung was determined to show you that he had changed, that he was ready to make amends for the past and fight for a second chance at love. He knew it wouldn't be a simple task, but he was willing to put in the effort, knowing that you were worth every ounce of it.

As the days went by, he subtly began to make his presence felt in your life once more, finding opportunities to spend time with you and rekindle the connection that had once been so strong. He was committed to proving to you that he was ready to be the partner you deserved, hoping that you would see the changes in him and consider giving your relationship another chance.

The weeks leading up to the project deadline had turned into a gruelling and relentless cycle for you and your team. The pressure was relentless, and you had all been caught in a never-ending loop of work, eat, and sleep—or lack thereof.

As a perfectionist, you held yourself to incredibly high standards. You constantly pushed the boundaries of your abilities, striving for perfection in every detail of your work.

This relentless pursuit of excellence had taken a toll on your well-being, particularly your sleep. Your colleagues might have been unaware of the extent of your exhaustion, but you were all too aware of the sacrifices you were making.

One afternoon, during the usual lunch break, the office was quiet and empty as everyone else headed to the cafeteria to grab a meal and a moment of respite.

But you were too exhausted to join them.

Instead, you found yourself unable to stay awake at your desk. The fatigue was overwhelming, and your body finally gave in to the exhaustion that had been building for weeks.

Your head gently slumped onto your folded arms, and your eyes closed as you succumbed to sleep. The hum of the office's air conditioning and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall provided a soothing background to your unintended nap.

Meanwhile, Yunho thought it was unusual not to see you at the cafeteria, especially during these high-pressure days leading up to the project deadline. Concern crept into his mind as he realised that he hadn't seen you taking a break or grabbing a bite to eat like everyone else.

Furrowing his brows, he decided to check around the office, his worry growing as he found no trace of you at your usual spots. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something might be wrong. Maybe you were feeling unwell, or perhaps the stress had finally taken its toll on you.

As he made his way through the quiet office, his steps grew lighter, and his anxiety turned into relief when he finally spotted you.

Yunho's heart swelled with affection and concern as he gazed down at you, fast asleep at your desk. He found you incredibly adorable, even in the midst of exhaustion. However, that adoration was mixed with a deep sense of worry as he realised just how overworked you must be to skip meals and resort to catching sleep at the office.

Kneeling beside you, he couldn't resist the urge to gently push a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. He wished he could take away the burden of stress that seemed to weigh you down.

But as he hovered over you, lost in his thoughts, he was abruptly pulled from his reverie when Wooyoung's voice cut through the silence of the office.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Yunho quickly stood up, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment. He cleared his throat, struggling to find an explanation, "I... I was just checking on her. She looked really tired, and I wanted to make sure she was okay."

Wooyoung's expression remained guarded, his eyes fixed on Yunho as if he were assessing his intentions. It was clear that the rivalry between them had not dissipated, and the taller male's actions had not gone unnoticed.

Yunho felt a pang of guilt and self-doubt, wondering whether his concern for you was genuine or if it was fueled by something more complicated. He stepped back, allowing Wooyoung to take the lead, unsure of how to navigate the complex web of emotions that seemed to entangle the three of you.

Flustered, Yunho made a hasty exit from the scene.

He needed a moment to collect himself, to sort through the whirlwind of feelings that had been stirred by the sight of you asleep at your desk. It was undeniable that his concern for you went beyond the boundaries of a typical colleague's care.

As Yunho retreated, Wooyoung took a few steps closer to your desk, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep. The stress and exhaustion that had etched lines of weariness on your face tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to make sure you were comfortable and at ease.

With a tender touch, Wooyoung reached for a container, your favourite meal inside, that he had prepared earlier in the morning. He placed it gently by the side of your desk, ensuring you had something delicious to eat once you woke up.

Then, he unfastened his blazer and carefully draped it over your hunched figure before pressing a small kiss onto your temple. His actions were driven by a desire to keep you warm and snug, to shield you from the chilly air of the office. Watching you sleep so peacefully, he smiled softly.

Beneath that smile lurked a sense of jealousy within him.

Seeing Yunho's concern for you triggered a surge of possessiveness and insecurity that he found hard to ignore. He knew he needed to address these emotions, but for now, his priority was making sure you were taken care of, even if it meant he had to battle his inner demons silently.

After lunch, Yeosang's gentle touch and voice roused you from your slumber, bringing you back to the bustling reality of the office.

As your eyes fluttered open, you immediately noticed Wooyoung's blazer draped over you, providing warmth and comfort. It was a gesture that touched your heart deeply, and a small, contented smile tugged at your lips.

Your gaze shifted to the container of food on your desk, and recognition washed over you. It was unmistakably Wooyoung's signature meal, one he had always lovingly prepared for you during your high school days. The rush of nostalgia and fond memories that accompanied the sight of the familiar dish made your heart flutter.

It was as if he had reached through time to the days when you were a giddy high school girl in love.

But it wasn't just the meal that stirred your emotions.

As you turned your attention to the meeting room, your heart skipped a beat when you locked eyes with your ex-boyfriend.

He looked incredibly handsome, his features refined by the years that had passed since high school. The sight of him reignited a spark of attraction and reminded you of why you had fallen so deeply in love with him all those years ago.

In that moment, the boundaries that had kept your emotions in check began to blur. You couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for something beautiful to blossom between you and Wooyoung once again.

The day of the final presentation had finally arrived.

It was a crucial moment for your project, and the team had gathered early at the office to prepare for the important meeting with key stakeholders. The atmosphere was tense as everyone fine-tuned their speeches and went over the final details. However, you noticed that Wooyoung was conspicuously absent.

Concern gnawed at you, as this was unlike him.

He was usually punctual and responsible, and even if he were running late, he would have sent a message to keep the team informed. But this time, there was no word from him, and none of your colleagues had heard from him either.

As the minutes ticked by, your worry deepened.

You tried calling him repeatedly, only to be met with his voicemail each time. It was as though he had vanished, and the lack of communication sent a shiver of anxiety down your spine.

Your colleagues attempted to reassure you, telling you that he would likely show up soon and that there was probably a reasonable explanation for his absence. Still, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was amiss, and your heart sank with every unanswered call.

The postponement of the meeting due to Wooyoung's absence only added to your growing anxiety.

His presence was vital as the project manager, and the fact that he hadn't shown up without any explanation left you deeply worried and on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Unable to contain your concern any longer, you rushed to Yunho, desperately seeking any information that could help you reach Wooyoung. You needed to find him, to ensure he was safe and to understand why he had disappeared on such an important day.

The recruiter tried to calm you as he quickly accessed the company database to search for your ex's personal details. It was a race against time to locate him, and you clung to the hope that you could reach him soon.

Once Yunho found his home address, you wasted no time.

You packed your belongings in a rush, informing your concerned colleagues that you were going to check on him.

Yunho, worried for your safety given your fragile emotional state, volunteered to accompany you. You agreed, grateful for his support as you went on your mission to find Wooyoung.

The tension in the car was palpable as you and Yunho raced towards Wooyoung's house, your hearts heavy with worry and fear for his safety. But what you encountered on the way was something you never could have anticipated.

As your car approached an accident site at the side of the road, your heart seemed to stop when you recognised the mangled remains of an oddly familiar car.

No... no, it can't be.

Panic surged through you, and you screamed at Yunho to stop the car immediately. He slammed on the brakes, and without a second thought, you flung the car door open and sprinted towards the accident scene.

The crash site was chaos personified, with flashing red and blue lights illuminating the area.

As you approached, your heart pounded in your chest like a drum, and the weight of impending dread pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, blurring your vision, as you attempted to rush past the stern-faced authorities who had already cordoned off the area. Their expressions were unyielding, their voices firm as they insisted on maintaining control of the situation.

"Please, let me through! That's my... my friend's car!"

You cried, your voice cracking with anguish, desperate to get closer to Wooyoung. The police officers held their ground, their solemn expressions a stark contrast to your frantic demeanour.

Your desperation reached a fever pitch as you continued to shout his name, your voice carrying your love, fear, and regret, "Wooyoung! Wooyoung, please be okay! God, I... I love you, okay?!" The words tumbled from your lips, heavy with raw emotion and filled with the agony of knowing you might lose him forever.

But the authorities were unyielding, firmly keeping you at bay, their unspoken message clear: they were doing their best to handle the situation, and your presence was only complicating matters further.

The seconds felt like hours as you stood there, helpless and terrified, hoping against hope that Wooyoung would somehow be okay.

In that moment of heart-wrenching despair, Yunho quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly as your legs gave way beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs wracking your body as you repeated the painful words like a mantra, "I've lost him... I've lost him again..."

Yunho held you close, his own heart heavy with the knowledge that, despite his feelings, in the end, it would always be Wooyoung who occupied the most significant place in your heart. He silently accepted this truth, providing you with a comforting presence as you grieved the possibility of losing someone you still deeply loved.

An authority figure eventually approached you two, asking if you knew the victim.

When you confirmed that you were friends with the victim, a sense of relief washed over her face. She quickly informed you that Wooyoung was in the ambulance receiving immediate medical care, and you clung to that sliver of hope like a drowning person clutching a lifebuoy.

With Yunho's support, they guided you towards the ambulance.

Your heart continued to race with anxiety, a relentless drumbeat of fear echoing in your chest. The relief of knowing he was alive was shadowed by the uncertainty of how badly he might be hurt.

Tears streamed down your face the moment you laid eyes on Wooyoung in the back of the ambulance.

The sight of him, battered and bruised, was almost too much to bear. His face bore a couple of bruises, and you reached out to gently touch his hand, relieved that he was conscious and responsive.

The doctor provided some reassurance, explaining that he had sustained a few broken bones and injuries, but overall, he was in stable condition. But they still needed to transport him to the hospital for a more thorough examination to rule out any internal injuries or bleeding.

Your heart remained heavy, but a glimmer of hope flickered within you as you knew he had made it through the worst part.

As the ambulance set off for the hospital with Wooyoung inside, Yunho quickly contacted someone from work to update everyone about the accident. You sat in the back of the ambulance, clutching Wooyoung's hand tightly, unwilling to let go.

The realisation hit you like a wave – your feelings for him had never truly faded; they had only been buried beneath the surface.

Now, more than ever, you were determined to stay by his side, to support him through his recovery, and to make up for the lost time. The events of the day had rekindled your love for him, stronger than ever before, and you couldn't imagine ever letting him go again.

"Do you know how scared I was, Jung Wooyoung? Don't you dare do that to me again, you hear me?" You whispered in a broken voice.

Despite the pain he must have been in, he smiled and nodded. His hand in yours was a reassuring anchor in the midst of this chaotic situation as he tightened his grip, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. This morning, as I was rushing to work, I hadn't been alert enough to realise a reckless driver was approaching from the side, he ignored the red light and ran straight into my car."

As he explained the accident, your worry for him only intensified, but he managed to inject a bit of humour into the conversation, teasing you about your emotional outburst. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's about time I said it out loud," You replied, your voice filled with sincerity, "I do love you, Wooyoung. I never stopped, even when I thought I had. It's still you that I want, it will always be you. And I... I don't ever want to lose you again."

"You won't have to. I'm not going anywhere this time, I promise." His eyes locked onto yours, and the two of you shared a moment of understanding, the unspoken feelings finally out in the open.

Wooyoung's heart swelled with joy, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. For years, he had carried the weight of regret and longing for you, unsure if he would ever hear those three words from your lips again.

Now, as he looked into your eyes and heard you say that you loved him, it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.

A radiant smile spread across his bruised face, and his eyes sparkled with happiness. It was a smile that spoke of relief, of hope, and of a love that had endured despite the years of separation and heartache. In that moment, he knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was willing to face them, because he had the love of his life by his side once again.

The final meeting for the project was a bittersweet moment.

Wooyoung, with his cast on his arm, sat next to you, and the shareholders expressed their relief and sympathy for what had happened to him. The mood in the room was one of gratitude that he had come out of the accident relatively unscathed.

You couldn't help but steal glances at him throughout the meeting, your heart filled with love and concern for his well-being.

As the presentation concluded successfully, you exchanged a subtle, reassuring smile with your boyfriend. It was a silent acknowledgement of the challenges you had overcome together, not just in the project but in your personal lives as well.

The future felt uncertain, but you both knew one thing for sure: you were determined to face it together, hand in hand, and this time, nothing would tear you apart.

The dinner celebration later that night was filled with laughter.

Your colleagues chatted and celebrated the successful completion of the project, unaware of the quiet exchange happening beneath the table. Wooyoung's caring looks and subtle touches spoke volumes, and he couldn't resist the urge to hold your hand, even as you shot him a warning look with wide eyes.

You both knew the importance of keeping your rekindled relationship discreet at work, fearing any potential conflicts of interest. But, at that moment, as your fingers intertwined under the table, you smiled at each other, knowing that your love had found its way back, and this time, it would be even stronger.

Yunho, ever the understanding friend, had come to terms with the reality of your relationship with Wooyoung. He genuinely wished the best for you, even if it meant he had to let go of any romantic hopes he might have had.

He knew that in your eyes, he had always been a close friend and colleague. Nothing more, nothing less.

One afternoon in the office pantry, the recruiter smiled to himself as he discreetly observed the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the pantry, thinking no one else was around. Wooyoung held your hand, and in a daring move, he stole a quick, playful kiss, prompting you to smack his arm in a half-hearted warning.

It was a glimpse of the love and happiness that had found its way back into both of your lives, and Yunho was content knowing that you were where you truly belonged.

A few months passed since Wooyoung's cast had been removed and he had fully recovered, you both found yourselves in a comfortable and loving routine. Although you travelled to work together, you would part ways to enter your respective offices, with your boyfriend taking every opportunity to sneak a kiss onto your face before playfully running away, dodging your affectionate smacks.

The sun streamed through the car windows as you both drove to work together, the atmosphere light and easy. As you approached the office building, he glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know, babe," He began, his voice warm and teasing, "I've been thinking. We've been keeping our relationship under wraps at work for a while now. And, well, I was wondering if maybe it's time we let everyone know."

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise, "Are you serious, Woo?"

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, I mean, we're in different departments anyway. It's not like we're working closely together every day. Plus, I think it's about time our colleagues knew how lucky I am to have you."

You smiled at his words, your heart warming.

"I agree," You replied, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "I think it's a great idea. Let's do it."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness, "That's my girl. I can't wait to show everyone how amazing you are."

On that memorable morning, the meeting room was filled with an air of curiosity as Wooyoung called your closest colleagues together. You stood nervously at his side, your fingers intertwined with his, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The glances and smiles exchanged between your colleagues only added to your jitters.

With a deep breath, your boyfriend finally spoke up, his voice laced with affection as he raised your intertwined hands, "We thought you guys deserved to know, we're together."

Instead of the expected gasps or exclamations of surprise, mischievous grins and playful amusement greeted his announcement. Yeosang, always quick with a witty remark, responded first, "Okay, and?"

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you glanced around the room, wondering why everyone seemed so unfazed.

Jongho chimed in with a smirk, teasing Wooyoung mercilessly, "Yeah, we know. Literally everyone knows you two are together. You haven't exactly been subtle at all, you know, especially you, Wooyoung hyung."

Your boyfriend's laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but join in, your cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. You exchanged a sheepish look with him, realising that your relationship had been far less discreet than you thought.

Yeosang playfully rolled his eyes, "Seriously, guys, we've known for ages. You don't have to announce it like it's breaking news."

Jongho continued teasing, "Yeah, and Wooyoung hyung, you've been practically broadcasting it with that lovestruck look on your face every time you're around her."

Wooyoung's grin widened as he glanced at you, affection clear in his eyes, "Well, I can't help it. She's pretty amazing."

Everyone groaned loudly at that, all prepared to witness more public displays of affection at work now that you were both openly together. Pulling you close to him, your boyfriend knew there was one more thing you both needed to do.

With the decision to revisit your hometown and properly introduce each other to your families, the two of you planned a weekend trip back to Ilsan. It was a significant step in your relationship, a journey that held the promise of deeper commitment.

As you packed your bags and prepared for the trip, there was a sense of excitement and anticipation in the air.

This symbolised a beautiful chapter in your relationship, one where you would bridge the gap between your pasts and your future, and where the bonds between you and your families would grow stronger, just as your love had.

As the car journeyed back to Ilsan, the town where your shared childhood memories were embedded, a sense of nostalgia washed over both of you. You gazed out the window, watching familiar landmarks pass by like scenes from an old movie. Wooyoung took notice of the emotions welling up in your eyes as you relived those cherished moments from your past.

Unable to resist, he gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your eyes met his, and he felt a profound connection to you, one that spanned years and countless memories. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto the back of your knuckles, his way of silently acknowledging the shared history you both carried.

The journey back to your hometown was a trip down memory lane, a testament to the enduring love you held for each other and the promise of a bright future together.

Visiting Wooyoung's family was a heartwarming experience.

His parents welcomed you with open arms, their smiles radiating warmth and genuine happiness. They had always liked you, even during your younger years, and seeing you back together with their son filled their hearts with joy. They believed that you and Wooyoung made a sweet and perfect couple.

His brother, however, carried a heavy burden of guilt.

He took the two of you aside, his voice filled with remorse as he offered a sincere apology for his role in breaking you apart all those years ago. As you and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, you both forgave him wholeheartedly.

You understood that sometimes, people make mistakes, and those mistakes can lead to valuable lessons for everyone involved.

It was a moment of closure and healing for all of you.

Wooyoung's visit to your parents' house, however, was accompanied by a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

He knew he had deeply hurt you in the past, and the possibility of your parents' disapproval loomed large in his mind. He was prepared to work tirelessly to earn their trust back.

Much to his surprise and relief, your parents welcomed him with open arms. It was a gesture of acceptance he hadn't expected so readily. As he sat down with them, he couldn't help but express his gratitude and curiosity.

"I'm truly grateful for your acceptance," He began, his voice filled with sincerity, "But I have to admit, after everything I put your daughter through, I didn't expect this. Why are you so willing to accept me back into her life?"

Your mother sent him a warm and understanding smile.

"It's clear to us how happy she is with you, Wooyoung-ah. That happiness means the world to us as her parents. Besides, we believe that people can change and grow. We all make mistakes when we're young and foolish, but it's the choices we make now that define us. You have a chance to redeem yourself, and as long as you make our daughter happy and treat her well, that's what truly matters to us."

He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, knowing that he was given a second chance not only with you but also with your supportive and forgiving parents.

It was a moment of redemption and hope for a brighter future together.

After years of deliberately avoiding the annual school reunions to spare yourselves the potential heartache of seeing each other again, this year was different.

You both had finally agreed that it was time to attend the gathering, now that you had found your way back into each other's lives.

In previous years, you had both stayed away from the event, each for your own reasons. It was simply too painful to confront the memories of your past, the love that had once blossomed, and the heartbreak that had followed. But now, after rekindling your relationship, you feel ready to face those memories together.

The decision to attend the reunion was a significant step, one that reflected your newfound confidence in your love and your willingness to embrace your shared history. It was a declaration to yourselves and to everyone who knew you that your bond had not only endured but had also grown stronger over time.

As you both made your way to the reunion, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

It was a chance to reconnect with old friends, relive cherished memories, and show the world that sometimes, love could find its way back, even when all hope seemed lost.

Walking hand in hand into the school reunion together was a statement that no one expected. Your presence together was a surprise to all your old classmates. While you and Wooyoung had been a couple for most of your school years, everyone knew about your painful breakup on graduation day.

The sight of you two together again caught everyone off guard.

Whispers and surprised glances followed you both as you entered the venue. Old friends and classmates couldn't help but comment on how you had reunited, expressing their astonishment at seeing you as a couple once more.

You navigated through the crowd, greeting old friends and engaging in conversations. All the while, there was an undeniable aura of curiosity and intrigue surrounding your relationship.

As the two of you mingled around, you couldn't escape the teasing and playful jabs that came your way. Some of your friends had been firmly on your side during the painful breakup years ago, and now, they couldn't resist taking a few indirect jabs at Wooyoung for the hurt he had caused you.

Amid the laughter and nostalgia, they warned him not to hurt you again, albeit in a lighthearted tone. Before you had a chance to come to his defence, Wooyoung took the initiative to address the elephant in the room.

Surrounded by the chatter of your old friends, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on you, and then addressed the group with a touch of nervousness in his voice, "I know you've probably all heard about what happened between us back then, and there's no denying that I messed up big time. I hurt her, and for that, I can't apologise enough."

Your friends and classmates exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement while others waited to hear what he had to say next.

"But today, I want to make a promise, not just to her but to all of you who care about her. I promise that I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, showing her the love and respect she deserves." As he spoke, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and the surprise on the faces of your friends gradually turned into admiration.

"Well, you better keep that promise, Wooyoung. We're all watching, you know!" One of your friends chimed in playfully.

Your boyfriend smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way. I know I have a lot of work to do, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Another friend added with a smirk, "That's a good start, Wooyoung. Just remember, actions speak louder than words!"

The atmosphere lightened up as everyone joined in with their friendly banter. Wooyoung's heartfelt promise had not only taken you by surprise but had also won over your friends, showing them that he was genuinely committed to making things right.

As you looked at him, your heart swelled with a mix of emotions—forgiveness, hope, and the overwhelming feeling that your love story was finally on the path it was meant to follow.

The reunion had been a whirlwind of laughter, reminiscing, and catching up with old friends.

As the centre of attention, you and Wooyoung found yourselves in the spotlight, surrounded by friends eager to hear your stories and experiences since graduation. It was heartwarming to see familiar faces again, but it also felt overwhelming at times.

In search of a brief escape from the lively atmosphere, you gently tugged his hand, leading him toward a balcony just a few steps away from the bustling hall. The night air was cool and refreshing against your skin, providing a welcome respite from the warmth of the gathering.

Wooyoung willingly followed you, his eyes never leaving your face.

The quietude outside offered a stark contrast to the animated conversations and laughter inside. Out here, the distant sounds of the city were a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both looked out over the town. You took the chance to speak your mind, still touched by his promise, "You know, what you said back there meant a lot to me, Woo."

"Get used to it, babe. There will be plenty more cheesy words where that came from. I plan to annoy you with them for the rest of your life." You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his words.

"I can't wait for you to annoy me forever."

He finally turned you around in his arms, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. His voice was tender as he spoke, "I love you, babe. More than anything."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you melted into each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with all the words you couldn't express, a promise of love, forgiveness, and a future together. The years of longing, the pain of separation, and the joy of rediscovery were all encapsulated in that single kiss.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of happiness, gratitude, and the overwhelming feeling that, finally, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Laughter and catcalls from your friends inside the hall pulled you both back to reality. They hadn't been too discreet about watching your balcony rendezvous.

"Hey, lovebirds! Save the show for later!"

With shared laughter, you pulled away, your hearts full of happiness and gratitude. As you returned to your friends, you couldn't help but feel that your love had come full circle and that this time, it was stronger and more enduring than ever before.

The two of you wore genuine smiles as you demonstrated that love could indeed find its way back, even after years of separation.

Your presence together spoke volumes, reminding everyone that sometimes, love could be rekindled, and old flames could burn brighter than ever before.

I'm realising that my oneshots are gradually getting longer and longer lmao. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one!

This took me quite some time to finish. I worked on this bit by bit in between breaks from my assignments and thesis, so I do apologise if certain parts might've appeared somewhat awkward(?).

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #office au #exes to lovers #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot

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cheollipop · 1 year

Text

wet

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.1k

tags: smut, established relationship, non-idol!au

taking in the sight of wooyoung - soaked from head to toe, thin white shirt clinging to his chest and the metal bar piercing his nipple protruding from the wet material - you simply couldn't wait until you got home.

warnings: dom!woo, sub!reader, semi-public sex (they're in a public bathroom), slight exhibitionism, wooyoung has a nipple piercing, unprotected sex (👎), wall sex (wy is strong.... and has pretty veins.... ehem), pussy slapping, (very gentle) face slapping, squirting, rough oral sex (m receiving), spit kink, face-fucking, deepthroating, fingering (m receiving), cum-eating/swallowing, dirty talk, praise, nicknames (youngie, baby, pretty girl, good girl, darling, angel)

A/N: somebody restrain me. please.

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

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“Oh baby, you’re drooling everywhere. Am I fucking you that good?”

Wooyoung had you pressed against the wall in the cramped public bathroom, palms splayed out over your ass, veins protruding as he held you up and rammed his cock into your sopping heat.

“So-so good! Hnnngh-” You arched your back, pushing your chest into his. One of your hands slid down the soaked material of his shirt to circle two fingers over his nipple, tugging at the metal bar decorating it and feeling a fresh wave of arousal rush to your core at the groan it elicited from Wooyoung.

One look at Wooyoung while you were in the crowd, drenched from head to toe with the water the artists performing had sprayed you with, and your eyes couldn’t help but fixate on the metal adorning his perky nipple, prominent through the thin material of his white shirt. As soon as the last artist left the stage, you found yourself dragging Wooyoung to the nearest public bathroom, too impatient to walk to the car. Wooyoung, it turned out, was just as desperate, not wasting time before pushing you up against the wall, tugging your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket before sliding his cock inside you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively when one of his hands left its spot on your ass, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, freeing it from the painful grip your teeth had on it. “Why’s my pretty girl being so quiet? Let me hear your voice.” He accentuated his words with a firm thrust, his cockhead pressing harshly against your g-spot, groaning when your walls clenched around him.

Your bottom lip found itself at the mercy of your teeth once again, Wooyoung’s hips snapping against your own forcefully, pushing you up against the wall with every thrust. You didn’t notice Wooyoung’s hand leaving your face and sliding between your bodies, neither did you expect three of his fingers landing sharply onto your clit, your body convulsing at the sudden pain.

“What did I say?” He leaned forward and bit down on your jaw, his hips unrelenting as he drove his cock into you, fucking the tip directly into your favourite spot and smiling lopsidedly at the uncontrolled shaking of your thighs around him. “Didn’t I tell you not to hold back your pretty voice?”

With your head lolling back as pleasure shot up your spine and your eyes fluttering shut, you missed how Wooyoung’s hand quickly moved to cup the back of your head, stopping it from hitting the wall behind you. Just as quick as he had done that, his fingers were back on your clit, your eyes shooting open when he dropped another painful slap onto the swollen nub. You gushed around him, releasing your bottom lip and emitting a desperate whine, hips rolling to meet Wooyoung’s cock halfway.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, breathing out a series of grunts and moans before speaking. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me now? Let everyone hear how good I’m fucking you?”

“Uh-huhh, want everyone to know h-how good Youngie f-feels-”

Wooyoung’s chest swelled with pride – you were so pliant and desperate, feet digging into his lower back and pushing him deeper inside your clenching pussy, eyes rolling to the back of your head while he ground his hips into you. He stuck his tongue out and licked up the drool leaking out the side of your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down. “That’s right, let them all hear how pretty you sound when you’re creaming all over Youngie’s cock.”

“Gonna- I-I’m gonna cum- please, please, please! Please don’t stop- Nghhh!” You chanted, high-pitched and desperate as he fucked you stupid, your pussy squelching every time he pumped his cock into your cunt.

“Yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum for Youngie?”

Your orgasm punched through you, sending hot flashes of ecstasy rushing through your whole body. Your thighs shook violently around Wooyoung’s waist as he fucked you through your high, his fingers working your clit and elongating the abuse to your nerves. The pressure in your abdomen released, a stream of hot, translucent liquid flowing out of you in streams, cascading down Wooyoung’s length and wetting his legs. He swallowed your cries of pleasure, his tongue licking over your teeth and pushing against the roof of your mouth. Slowing his hips down to a slow grind, Wooyoung eased his throbbing length out of your fluttering hole when you weakly pushed against his shoulder, the overstimulation becoming too much.

“Holy fuck,” Wooyoung panted, tilting his head to look between your bodies at the liquid streaming down his legs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He crouched with you in his arms and set your limp body down on the cold tile, watching you adjust yourself until you were on your knees. He cupped your face and kissed over the damp skin, licking up and sweat and drool and leaving line of his spit to reflect the white light shining over you. He waited for you to catch your breath, sucking the delicate skin of your neck into his mouth and admiring as a trail of blossoming bruises decorated it. He stood back up, holding your jaw in both hands and angling your head upwards to look into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but glance at his cock, the tip red and angry as it stood drenched in your arousal. Your mouth salivated at the sight and you reluctantly moved your eyes back to Wooyoung’s, being met with a knowing look and a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

“Feeling okay?” He stroked your jaw and you nodded, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips. “Can you help Youngie out for a little longer?”

You nodded again, more frantically this time, allowing Wooyoung to guide your mouth to his weeping cockhead with one hand, the other holding himself at the base. He watched you place a few kitten licks over his head, lapping up the precum beading at the tip before he grew impatient with the desperate need to cum. He moved the hand holding his dick, landing a few firm slaps onto your cheek, hard enough to catch your attention. “Are you gonna stop teasing? Or should I fuck your mouth until you’re choking on my cum?"

He huffed out a laugh when your eyes widened, nodding your head instantly and parting your lips without him prompting you to. Wooyoung’s thumb slid into your mouth and hooked into the corner, prying your lips open even wider. He leaned down, looking into your pleading eyes for a moment before pursing his lips and shooting a hot wad of spit onto your tongue, watching your throat bob as you swallowed it down without hesitation. Wooyoung’s cock twitched at the sinful moan that escaped your lips and echoed in the cramped bathroom, quickly straightening up and pushing himself into your mouth.

He slid his length along your flattened tongue, all the way down until his cockhead teased your uvula, reveling in the feeling of your throat constricting around him as you resisted the urge to gag.

“Fuuuuck- oh darling, you look even more beautiful with your mouth around my cock.” Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds as he held back from coming down your throat, the hand cradling your jaw sliding back to fist into the damp hair at your nape. He ran his thumb over the corner of your stretched lips, thrusting shallowly into your mouth and watching tears well up in your eyes. “Baby- ah, breathe through your nose for me,” he instructed, barely coherent as pleasure shot up his abdomen.

You did as he said, feeling so full of cock, the bitterness of his precum paired with the sweetness of your arousal overwhelming your taste buds. Once Wooyoung knew you could breathe, he began pistoning his hips into your mouth, moaning a series of curses when you gagged around him, his cock pushing into the back of your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me, angel?” Wooyoung breathed out, leaning his forehead against the wall and looking down at you, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth and reemerging drenched in your spit. He heard you gargle a response, chuckling lowly as he drove his hips into your mouth once more before pulling out, grabbing your jaw roughly and snapping your head upwards, waiting for you to stop coughing before speaking. “Tell me how I taste, darling.”

“S-so good, Youngie,” you panted, voice hoarse and throat scratchy. “More- I want more, please-”

Wooyoung cursed under his breath, taking one more look at your face – eyes red and cheeks stained with tears, mouth swollen and spit dripping from your chin – before sheathing his cock inside your mouth once again, a throaty moan ripping out of him.

You moved your hand between your legs, swiping two fingers through your dripping folds to saturate them with your arousal, then brought them back up to circle around Wooyoung’s rim. You felt him stiffen up momentarily before leaning into your touch, making you dig your digits harder into his puckered hole as it clenched around nothing.

Wooyoung’s moans turned high-pitched and airy, his hips stuttering when you sunk your middle finger into his tight heat. You gave him a few shallow thrusts before slipping in your ring finger and curling them against his walls. Wooyoung’s thrusts lost their steady rhythm, his fingers tugging harshly at your drenched hair as your fingers found his prostate.

“Fuck! R-right there-” He panted, running his cockhead over the roof of your mouth before sinking it back into your throat. “So perfect- s-so perfect for me, my precious baby. Sh-shit!”

You moaned at the praise he was so generously giving you, your free hand grabbing a handful of his ass and spreading him open so you could pound him even harder, watching as Wooyoung fell apart every time you rammed your fingers into his swollen gland.

“Oh, fuck, shit- I’m so fucking close,” he moaned breathlessly, gagging you on his dick with every forceful thrust into your mouth. “Hnngh- T-take my cum, darling-”

His hips bucked into you once, twice, and he was emptying his load into your mouth, shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat. It was so much, and you struggled to breathe around the sheer about amount of cum he was shooting into your mouth, but Wooyoung was shuddering violently with the force of his orgasm, tugging at your hair to slide you over his length, milking himself of every last drop. Your fingers fucked him through it, shoved so deep inside Wooyoung to grind against his prostate, pulling moan after moan from his lips.

His muscles spasmed with overstimulation and he grabbed your wrist to still your movements, your fingers slipping out of him and giving his rim a few firm taps as it clenched and unclenched uselessly.

Wooyoung pulled you to your feet, wrapping you up in his arms and burying his face into your neck, peppering kisses over the heated skin. “I love you so much,” he nipped at your jaw. “My pretty angel,” his fingers gently massaged your scalp, contrasting the way he was mercilessly tugging at your hair earlier. “So perfect for me.”

Wooyoung moved his head closer to yours, his hot breath warming your flushed skin, and his eyes traveled down to your lips – wet and bitten, much like his own. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in and pressing his mouth to the top one, sucking it into his mouth. His other hand circled around you and pulled you closer with his palm on your ass until your hips were flush, swallowing the breathy moan you emitted into his mouth.

The sudden banging at the door startled the both of you, pulling away abruptly as an enraged, unfamiliar voice sounded on the other side of the door.

“Fucking hurry up! You’ve got a line of people about to piss their pants out here!”

“Get a room!” an equally displeased voice added

You stifled a laugh, watching as Wooyoung bit down on his bottom lip in a attempt to do the same. He leaned in, unbothered by the infuriated screaming outside, whispering in your ear. “Can I make you squirt again in the car?”

You grinned, holding his face in both hands and pressing a firm kiss to his lips, pulling away and looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“You read my mind.”

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starrywooyo · 6 months

Text

HIS - JWY one-shot

synopsis: you save a fox but what happens when he turns out to be more than just a fox?

pairing: fox!hybird wooyoung x f! reader

genre: hybird au - fluff/smut/angst (im so sorry)

!!warnings!! hunting, hunting terminology. non-con (consent is key!!) wooyo saves the day, time skips, smut, dom wooyoung, sub reader, blood, guns, death (im so sorry)

notes: very slow but I promise its worth it!!

word count: 5.7K (omg its long but I promise its well worth it)

before it begins i just wanna say I'm so sorry i wasn't even gonna make it angsty but idk i just wrote it and now im crying at 11pm so I'm very sorry in advance, regardless i hope you enjoy!!

It’s a calm Thursday morning as you awaken in your cosy little cottage home you live in with your parents and older brother in the countryside. You go about your business and get dressed, with it being such a calm morning you decide to pack a small lunch in your basket and go to your favourite spot for a nice lunch picnic. A spot which entails you to walk through the woodland. And so you do, it's a peaceful walk anyway.

You walk until you reach a sort of meadow-lake area and settle yourself in a nice spot with just enough shade and warmth from the sun and start to place your food out on the blanket, taking your book you had with you and begin to read. Your reading however is briefly interrupted by the rustling coming from the long grass just by your right side. A rabbit or a hare rushes by your blanket. The rustling continues and out pops a fox!! It creeps out and comes to a stand still as it spots you sitting on the grass. It watches you carefully before sprinting off.

Weird.. You think to yourself.

…

You awaken as the morning light shines through the curtains, sitting up in your bed you slip on your slippers along with a light shawl to heat you up from the chill of the morning, and make your way downstairs toward the kitchen.

Sitting at the kitchen table you grab a piece of toast and you're halfway through spreading some butter on there that your brother bursts through the back door grabbing the attention of your father.

“I caught something in one of the traps pa!!” he’s exclaiming.

Your dad is suddenly sitting up at that

“It’s about time!! Come on, i’ll show you how to get the game out of the trap”

And with that they're out the door together.

…

A few days later you’re again taking a walk in the woods, you hear something in the distance. You can't quite make out what it is. Shaking the thoughts away you continue walking, though you seem to be walking in the direction of the noise as it gets louder and closer sounding the more you walk forward.

It seems to sound like a whine of somesort.. Like a whine of pain?

You get to where the bush is and push past it. It's then that you see it.

A Fox, trapped in one of your dads traps.. Poor thing has its leg clamped shut in the metal trap. damn you hate these traps and how your father and brother do things.

The fox whines and seemingly tries to free its leg only to feel more pain and whine more.

“Poor thing..” you whisper out.

The fox halts its movements, its eyes darting towards you, only to bare its teeth and growl lowly

You slowly crouch down to be on the same level as the fox, trying your best to show you are no threat.

“Hey hey.. It's okay, let me help you” you go to touch the trap and the fox snaps at your hand.

“Now stop that. I know you’re scared but that’s no way to treat someone who's trying to help you” you firmly tell the fox.

“Damn i'm actually talking to an animal i must be crazy” you laugh out and the fox that's now stopped growling tilts its head at you.

“Just let me help you” you say as you reach for the trap again. And this time the fox allows you to get close.

Pushing the release lever on the trap you pull the metal bars away from its leg the gentlest you could. It winces as the sharp prongs exit its leg. With its hind leg now free it turns its head toward the wound, licking it slightly before standing and what you assume would be to make a break for it. Only the small orange animal collapses with a yelp

You slightly pout, and begin to take off the shawl you were wearing. Inching your way toward the little fox you drape the shawl on its body and gently pick its dejected form off the ground and hold it close to your chest.

“Come on i'll help you” you tell the creature and begin to make your way back home.

Before reaching the front door, you decide against taking the fox inside knowing if your father or brother was to see the animal, the poor thing would most likely be ‘put out of its misery’ as your dad would say and then skinned or something of the sort.

So you decide to take the little fox into the barn and up to the floor loft where there is plenty of hay so at least the animal can be warm or hide if need be..

Placing the ball of ginger fur down on the hay you walk away and begin to make your way back down.

“I’ll be right back okay?” you tell it.

And with that you rush back into the house through the back door, not taking into account what your family would think if they saw you with the blood on your dress had they been in the kitchen. Thankfully though no one was there. Your whole family is seemingly still in the town.

Raking through the cupboards you find what you're looking for: bandages, antiseptic, suture kit and scissors. As well as pouring some hot water in a bowl and grabbing a cloth and a bowl before placing all the items into a small basket, you make sure to wash your hands thoroughly well and then you make your way back into the barn, the fox thankfully still where you left it. Not that it had any choice..

Sitting down as close as you could to the creature you organise and place all the items on the floor beside you, the animal carefully eying all the items up.

Taking the bowl filled with hot water and carefully dip the cloth into the water, slightly ring it out and begin to gently wipe away at the dried blood stuck on its fur as well as the fresh thats slightly dripping out of the gash on its leg, the fox slightly hissing at the contact with the cloth.

Placing the bloody cloth back into the basket you pick up the antiseptic and drench a little pad with the solution.

“This will probably sting a little” you tell the animal and then you dab the pad on its wound

The fox lets out a bark and attempts to pull its leg away, but the wound needs to be cleaned so you hold onto the leg as hard yet as gently as you could so the animal couldn't pull away.

The fox whines again and just lets its head fall onto the hay giving up on pulling away and just lets you do your thing.

Opening the suture kit, the little fox eyes your movement and you swear you saw it gulp as you thread the needle. You begin to stitch its wound closed, it doesn't take long.. you think maybe about 10 to 15 minutes? Then you take the bandages and begin to wrap the leg to prevent any infection.

“There all cleaned up” you tell the fox gently running your hand on its fur

“Now you have to stay in here for the next few days whilst you heal so don’t be trying to escape” you add, and then you drape a blanket over its tiny form to keep it warm and also hidden.

Over the next 10-14 days you keep checking up on the little fox, changing its bandages as well as bringing him little scraps of meats from the dinner table

You loved having the little fox in the barn. You often read up there and used the barn as a place of solitude but it was nice having some company even if in the form of a fox, and you know you shouldn't have but in turn it caused you to name the fox. Ironically you named him ‘Todd’. and although it was silly you felt you and the little fox had grown a friendship within those weeks.

Walking into the barn with some chicken scraps you were not mentally prepared to see ‘Todd’ up and walking but you knew he’d be healed up soon enough and you’d have to let him go.

Placing the little bowl of chicken down for the fox to eat, you gently unwrap the bandage from its leg to see nothing but a whitish scar going through the black fur.

You sigh sadly as the fox tilts its head at you.

“Well Todd you’re finally all healed. It's time for you to go back home. It's not exactly safe here for you” you tell Todd. you knew it was only a matter of time before your dad walked into the barn and found the little creature so it was best to let him go before that happened.

“Come on” you gesture and the fox follows you down the stairs of the barn and you both walk out and in the direction of the forest.

Once you felt you’d walked far enough away you bent down to the little fox.

“This is where i say goodbye todd” you say “go on” you tell him

The sitting fox looks at you, lets out a little bark and then breaks out into a little run away into the forest.

You don’t know what you were expecting the goodbye to be like but you suppose that was just how it was supposed to be.

…

Now you thought you would never see the little fox again but somehow whenever you had your little picnics by the lake ‘Todd’ would join you. This happened almost every time you were there as if the fox knew you were going to be there.

You were walking home after one of your picnics with ‘Todd’ entering the home you see your father, mother and brother sitting at the table as well as an unknown man.

Your parents seem to have a huge smile on their faces.

“y/n please. Sit and join us. We have something to discuss with you” your mother begins.

Confused, you place your basket onto the worktop and sit down at the table.

Your father clears his throat.

“y/n. This is George” your father introduces the unfamiliar man.

You awkwardly smile at the man and introduce yourself a little better.

“You’re going to wed him” your father adds

You respectfully decline the offer

“This is not up for discussion y/n. You will marry George, he's a good man. You’ll be in a good sturdy home and he's a great hunter” your father adds even more.

You knew there was no arguing with him but you could however at least postpone it a little bit

“Well if i have to marry him can’t i atleast get to know him a little better before?” you ask.

Both your parents and George agree.

…

You’ve been on tons of dates to get to know George but you just don’t like him one bit and he is a foxhunter..

You're both sitting on your porch, unbeknownst to you of a little orange fuzz ball watching the both of you intently. As the other man makes small advances such as touching you lightly or trying to get closer the little fox notices your discomfort

George moves closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

“So.. are you ready to marry me yet..?” he asks you

You uncomfortably and awkwardly move away from him slightly you hum

“I think I need more time,” you tell the man.

George sighs out angrily

“That's all you've been saying the past few months, when will you ever be ready y/n!!?” the man raises his voice at you standing up on the porch.

The little fox growls lowly in his spot from the bushes, still observing.

You stand giving apologies to the man and enter your home.

George runs a hand angrily through his hair and gets in his truck slamming the door and drives off.

‘Todd’ still in the bushes watches the home, watching as you slip out the back door and up into the barn.

And then he slowly makes his way into the forest away from your home.

You sit up in the barn loft with your feet dangling out of the big window at the top. You sigh, tossing your book onto the floor beside you. You’re then startled by a little bark.

Turning to look behind you you see ‘Todd’ trotting towards you with what seems to be a small vole in his mouth, he places it on the ground beside you and nudges it towards you when you just stare at the prey on the ground, the fox sits tilting his head at you.

“I- Todd.. i appreciate it but i can’t do anything with that..” you tell the little fox.

‘Todd’ picks the vole back up and walks away with it.

This continues over the next few weeks, ‘Todd’ bringing you a wide variety of animals as well as fruits. Most of the fruits you accept but the rats, other animals and sometimes rotten foods you cannot accept.

You’re in the kitchen helping your mother when you hear your father call for you from the door.

Walking to the front door you see what all the hullabaloo is. George is back…

He gets out of his truck going to the truck bed and pulls out a fox pelt

Your eyes widen. You wanna throw up.

“For the lady” George says as he holds the pelt in front of you,

You seem to zone out for a second, being brought back by your father telling you to take the pelt. You take it and bring it inside and place it on the table but then go straight to your room.

The little fox watching from the distance is heartbroken as he sees you accept the pelt. You won't accept his tokens of affection but you’ll accept his.. That murderer's gifts. ‘Todd’ lowly snarls at this and walks away.

It had been weeks since you last saw you little ‘Todd’ and you had no reason why.

You’re sitting in the meadow with George, you silently read your book.

George slowly moves closer to you, his hand resting by your back. Which ever so slowly creeps up to rest on your shoulder.

Closing your book you turn to him.

“I’d appreciate it if you'd remove your hand, it makes me uncomfortable” you say to him.

He laughs “uncomfortable? Come on Y/n we’ll be married soon. I’m gonna do a lot more than hold you like this”

You hold your gaze with him firmly.

“You’re an idiot if you think i'm gonna let you get intimate with me in any way George '' you tell him.

He doesn't like this, he raises his hand and slaps you across the face and grabs your jaw.

“What? You won't let me?” he laughs again. “You’ll be my woman, I can do whatever I want to you. When I want” he tells you as he places his lips on yours pushing you down on the blanket.

You hit and thrash at him telling him to stop. He doesn't listen.

As you struggle, He holds your hands together with one hand as he undoes and pulls off his belt with the other and ties it around your hands.

All the while you’ve been screaming and attempting to kick your feet at him. Hoping and praying for anyone.. Hell anything would hear you.

He kisses you again and this time you bite his lip as hard as you could.

George pulls away with a yelp. He touches his lip and sees the blood. He laughs a bit, his eyes darken and he hits you across the face again. His ring cuts your cheek in the process.

He begins to hike your dress skirt higher

“I’m going to take you now. No matter if you like it or not, I'll fill you up and then we’ll get married. And you’ll give me a nice healthy son” he tells you all while unbuttoning his shirt

He slides down between your thighs and places a kiss there.

You let out more protests and another call for help though you’re not sure how good your attempt was as it came out more a whisper between your sobs.

“I believe the lady said no” you hear someone's voice and then George is ripped away from you. You immediately sit up, scooting back till you hit the tree and try to get your breathing under control. You look at the situation.

There's another man. He has lightish brown hair and is wearing a simple white button up shirt. Sleeves rolled up and some jeans?

He’s on top of George throwing punches at him left and right.

“If you ever fucking touch her like that again” the man said. You swear you heard his growl as he said that.

George though manages to escape running away from the man back into the forest, not before calling him a psycho.

The man turns towards you and the anger slowly melts off his face.

He walks towards you and kneels.

“Here let me help you” he says gesturing to your bound hands

As he takes the belt off your hands you take in his details. He has very pretty brown eyes. And just below his eyes rests a little mole-

Before you can take in more details he stands putting his hand out for you to take and you do.

The man sighs out.

“Why don’t you just come with me y/n..” he whispers

Your eyes widen slightly

“How do you-” you go to ask him how he knows you

But he shushes you

“Let me show you” he says and then begins to take his shirt off and goes to take his jeans off next

You sort of yelp in surprise and look away

The man chuckles slightly.

“You have to look silly if you're gonna see” he says

You take a deep breath in and keep your eyes on his face.

He then started to grow little orange pointed ears with black tufts at the tips, you literally just blink and the next second a fox sits in front of you. Not just any fox ‘Todd’!! You’re in shock

“T-Todd!!?” you manage to speak.

The fox chirps and walks towards you happily.

You bend slightly to rub your hand on his head as he sort of bumps his head into your touch.

The little fox bites the bottom of your dress and tugs at it lightly, silently asking to follow him. And strangely enough you do.

The fox never lets go of your skirt as it pulls you through the forest deeper and deeper past the trees. Until he does. He drops your skirt out of his mouth and happily treads towards the huge redwood tree turning around barks for you to follow and goes into what you assume is his den..

You stand for you don’t know how long. Not making any advance towards the tree.

The fox pops his head back out pulling you from your thoughts as he tugs your skirt again pulling you closer to the tree and this time you follow him in. you’re not sure why. All you know it’s because you feel safe with him even though it's confusing and your thoughts are flying at 100mph.

The underground den was actually pretty spacious; you were able to stand up completely once through the tunnel into the main system of the den.

The first room to you looks like a little living room area as well as what seems to be a little kitchen due to the little fire pit that is under a hole for the smoke to go out.

You turn back to the fox who had shifted back to being a human? Though he still had his ears and bushy tail. And yes. He was wearing clothes.

“I dug this out all by myself, there's more rooms and things through the tunnels if you wanna take a look” he says gesturing to the other holes going off into other chambers connected to this main central room. You nod and slowly shift to look in the other rooms.

There's one just stocked with wood which you assume is for the little fire pit.

Another which looks like random things but the fox soon tells you that those are his treasures

Another looks to you to be a bathroom or well a bath. There's a small pool with actual flowing water. you ‘re very impressed by the craftsmanship of the foxes den.

The fox sits watching you explore your his home, his chest puffed up with pride as you compliment him.

As you make your way to look in the last part of the den, he stops you.

“W-wait- before you see the last room. I'm sure you have questions and want me to explain” he says

You nod “yes, i’d appreciate that Todd” you tell him

The fox frowns.

“Wooyoung,” he says.

You furrow your eyebrows confused.

“My name. It's Wooyoung” he says again

Oh..

“Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realise. Then yes, please wooyoung explain”

“I’m what you’d call a hybrid. I’m part human and part animal. In this case, I'm a fox. I have the ability to change between being fully human or shapeshift into a fox or i can keep my ears or tail” he explains and you nod in your understanding.

He breathes in

“I- id like you to stay with me y/n.. I know it might take time but from that day you saved my life. I knew I wanted you as my partner, my mate. And if you’d let me, I want to court you. So please won't you stay with me?” he asks.

You contemplate your odds. Your family wants to marry you off to some sicko and probably won't even care that he tried to touch you without your consent.

Wooyoung on the other hand seems genuine plus he protected you and you do like the little fox

“I’ll stay… with you” you tell him quietly

His eyes widen at your answer

“You will!!?” he asks again

You nod with a smile.

He jumps you in a hug “thank you thank you thank you!!” he purrs a rumble from his chest and you gently stroke his hair

…

Living with Wooyoung was actually pretty nice. He was super sweet, always respecting your boundaries and for a fox he's a pretty good cook

As the months go on your relationship grows and begins to stem into something more when you finally allow wooyoung to court you. It was around December now. Fresh white Snow covers what was bright green grass. Food is also scarce, you’re often left alone in the den whilst wooyoung goes out and hunts for whatever he can find: hares, rabbits. Fish on an odd occasion and sometimes even bringing back a chicken if he's successful enough to steal one from a farm. You hate when he sneaks onto farms.. It's so dangerous for him as a fox and sometimes you worry he won’t come back one of these days..

Today was no different, left alone in the den whilst woo goes out to hunt promising to be back before nighfall. Now being in the den wasn't all borning you had various books to read, you even had a little sketchbook that you are doing collections of little drawings in.

You just so happened to get lost in a book and by the time you put it down and popped your head out of the opening of the den into the cold air it was already night. Wooyoung still isn't back..

Crawling back into the den you decide to distract yourself and tidy the space a little bit. You reorganise the little bookshelf, tidy around the firelogs. Just whatever you can do really. You must've been really into it though to jump when a pair of arms wrap around your waist, a face snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmmmh baby~ i’m back” wooyoung says as he snuggles closer to you.

He’s cold against your back but you find yourself relaxing into his hold regardless, he places a kiss on your cheek

You turn around to face him and take in his appearance.

His face slightly red from coming into the warmth of the den from the cold

Clothes are a tad bit dirty with dirt. You’ll have to remember to wash them for him at some point. His brown hair is slightly messy.

Wooyoung gives you a cheeky smile “i brought you something~ wait here” he says gesturing you to sit down whilst he now in his fox form goes back outside the den.its not long before he’s back and clutched between his teeth: a fairly large chicken..

His little fox form happily pads towards you and he drops the chicken gently on the floor in front of you and shifts back.

He smiles at you

“So!! Do you like it??” he asks.

You smile softly.

“I love it Woo.. but you know i hate when you go onto farms.. What if the farmer catches you or worse..” you explain to him. Tears forming in your eyes.

His face flashes with panic at your tears.

“Hey hey.. Its okay.. That’ll never happen..” he says as he takes you into his arms rubbing your back.

“I don’t know what i’d do without you” you add through your sobs.

He places a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll always be here. m’not going anywhere so… don’t worry love” he tells you softly.

He places a kiss on the tip of your nose

“Now.. what do you say we get comfortable hmm?” he asks you with a cheeky grin and proceeds to place kisses down your neck slowly moving the pair of you back towards the nest full of fuzzy and soft pelts and furs

You giggle slightly as the kisses continue, he eventually pushes you back to lay on the furs, he slots himself between your legs as your fingers weave themselves between his hair, tugging sometimes ever so gently. At some point during the makeout session he pulls back allowing you to catch your breaths and he tugs his jumper off tossing it somewhere away from the nest. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, of course you've seen him shirtless before but in this setting it just feels so different- and it gets your heart racing.

Wooyoung leans back into your neck placing more kisses and taking in your scent.

He sighs contently

“baby you smell so good” he hums now placing little nibbles on the skin of your neck.

He pulls away a little again and this time he looks straight into your eyes.

“Sweetheart, i wanna show you how much I love you.. Can i?” he asks

You nod and he shakes his head.

“No.. baby i need to hear you say it, cause once i start i won't be able to stop” he looks seriously into your eyes

You nod again “yes, you can, please” you tell him verbally this time.

He nods slowly again “okay..” and he places a slow kiss onto your lips

He pulls you to sit up breaking the kiss, and pulls your own sweatshirt over your head your lips quickly captured in another kiss

Laying you back down the kisses now travel down your neck, to your chest and across your stomach, he gazes up at you through his eyes and begins to tug your jeans off all the while you watch him intently.

He pulls you to sit up once more, placing another kiss softly on your shoulder and his hands moving towards your back ”may i?” he asks

“Yeah” you breathe out and then he's slowly unclasping your bra and tugging off your underwear. And kicking off his own. He lays you back down and your quick to cover yourself up.

He pulls your hands away “don’t hide love.. You’re so beautiful” and he starts leaving his kisses again..

“So fucking stunning baby”

He slithers down and begins leaving kisses on your thighs leaving little nips every so often little marks beginning to form

And then he’s between your thighs slowly pushing himself into you

You gasp, hands shooting to grip his shoulders. “Woo..” you whine out feeling the stretch

“Mmh it's okay baby.. I got you..fuck you’re so tight” woo moans out

He places more wet kisses on your lips and his hands lace into your own pinning them down onto the fur as he begins to thrust

Gasps, heavy breathing and moans are the only things heard throughout the den, if anyone was to be that deep in the forest they’d turn the other direction.

Wooyoung whispers sweet little words and praises to you as his movements are slow yet powerful.

“You’re doing so well for me baby”

“Taking me so well”

“Just a little bit more”

“That's my girl”

“So pretty”

That's when you feel it building up in your stomach, that knot that just wants to come undone.

“Woo..” you moan out, tears filling your eyes

“I’know bubs.. Just a little longer for me hmm? Y-you can do that for me” his thrusts getting more powerful

“I c-can’t-” you cry out

“S-shit” he gasps out “yes you can baby, be my good girl” he coos

His hands slipping from your hand go to grip your hips as he seems to push himself deeper inside you and it has the tears finally dripping from your eyes

“Fuck w-wooyoung” you sob out

His grip gets tighter on your hips, definitely gonna leave a mark

“Pretty girl~” he coos again “gonna fill you nice and full with my kits” he moans out

“You like that baby? You’d look so pretty, your stomach all plump and round with our litter” he whines out and attacks your lips with kiss after kiss after kiss biting your lips gently making them more swollen.

And then it snaps, your release falling over you in waves and wooyoungs painting your insides hot and white.

Your bodies glisten with sweat, his hair a mess and sticking in every direction, his forehead leans on yours as he chants over and over again “i love you”

…

Eyes fluttering open you’re met with a mop of brown hair, he’s still asleep so peaceful looking, gently you place a kiss onto his mole just under his eye and while still under the furs you snuggle tighter into them. His eyes blink open

“Morning baby” his voice rasps out as he snuggles into your neck leaving a kiss. He pulls you closer to him

He sighs out “i love you so much”

You return the saying and smile softly, yeah you could definitely get used to waking up like this

…

A good few months later as expected your tummy did in fact have a tiny little person in there.

Wooyoung was overjoyed, he began to dig out another little room in the den. A nursery for your little ones and the both of you decorated it together. The perfect little space to raise your young together.

…

It wasn't long before the cries of babies soon filled the den, three. You had three little ones. Two twins and then another little one a few years later

A little girl the oldest and two little boys. 2 of them are fox hybrids like woo the little girl and boy and the other boy the youngest just like you.

You named your daughter: youngsoo

Your eldest son: youngjoon

And the youngest: jaewoo

You’re heart warmed seeing how well woo takes care of and loves his children

…

Watching your children grow alongside wooyoung will always be the most precious memories you’ll keep in your heart. Your children are now at the ages of 7 and 5

You’re in the den with your youngest and daughter, wooyoung having took youngjoon out to show him how to hunt despite you being against it.

You’re baking with youngsoo whilst jaewoo naps in the nursery.

As you bake however there's a nagging feeling in your chest that you can’t seem to shake off. The feeling gets worse as time passes and wooyoung and youngjoon aren’t home.

“Youngsoo baby.. Look after jaewoo would you? Mama will be right back, just gonna go see if your father and brother are on their way okay baby?” you place a kiss on her forehead and she nods.

You exit the den and see the beautiful spring colours and begin walking in the direction the boys trotted off in when they left the den this afternoon.

You must’ve walked a good solid 30 - 40 minutes before you heard it

“M-mummy”

You run off in the direction as you hear your little one

Brushing by trees and bushes until finally you get to him.

There he is crouched against a tree, tears soaking his little face

“youngjoon” you breathe out

His head snaps up to you and he's quickly running over

“Mummy” he sobs

“It’s okay bubs, mummys here”

Its only then when you take in your surroundings you notice wooyoung is nowhere to be found.

The nagging feeling becomes more stronger and you shakily sigh out

“Youngjoon baby… where's your daddy?” you ask