#Jung Wooyoung Angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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.

569 notes · View notes

hahafixon · 8 months

Text

Go To Bed Angry ~ *Jung Wooyoung*

Summary: Wooyoung has been very angry as of late and you don’t know why. You try to help to the best of your ability, but how can you when he doesn’t listen? Will you both have to go to bed angry?

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung X G/N!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 1400

Warning: Very angsty beginning but fluffy ending

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @maeleelee @mxnsxngie @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: Based off the song Go to Bed Angry by Set It Off

Lately, he’s making you mad. He’s always making snarky comments and making you feel bad or guilty for attempting to be a good girlfriend, even when he was failing at being a good boyfriend. Tonight, however, was the final straw. You made dinner as a peace offering so that you could talk and work through whatever it was that was making him so upset. Perhaps he was just really stressed and needed someone to take care of him or maybe he just needed some time to himself. Either way, you wanted to help ease his mind.

However, as soon as Wooyoung got home, he started yelling about anything and everything. You tried, you really did try to calm him down to the best of your ability. But he wouldn’t listen. He just kept screaming, making your blood boil and your temper to be let loose.

“Everything has to be about you doesn’t it?” You mumbled to yourself as he spouted off more reasons why he hated you. You looked away from him, afraid that you might really lash out if you saw his face.

“Says the selfish one in the relationship!” He shot back, venom lacing his words. “You’re so clingy and vain. You’re always asking me to do stuff for you and buy things for you. You don’t care about me. You never did!”

That forced you to whip around and face him, your eyes boring holes into his soul. “I don’t care about YOU? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’ve been nothing but patient and caring towards you for the past two weeks and what kind of thanks do I get? Some moron calling ME the ungrateful one in this relationship! I don’t deserve this crap Wooyoung!”

He sneered at you. “See? Selfish.”

“That’s it. I’m done. I’m not going to do put up with this anymore.” You stood up, your eyes cast down on the floor. “I’m going to bed.”

Before you could walk past him, he grabbed your arm. “No.”

“What the hell do you mean no? You obviously don’t want to listen to me, so why should I stay and listen to you? Why should I listen to you scream at me about how ungrateful I am that you’re in my life? I’m not going to stay here and be insulted like that.” You spat, a murderous glare directed at him.

He looked at you with cool indifference, though you could just barely detect a hint of fear and anxiety in his eyes. “I’m not going to bed angry with you.”

Wrenching your arm out of his grasp, you tried to ignore the stinging in your heart as you said, “Well that’s too bad, because that is exactly what’s going to happen until you can learn to control your temper and listen for once.”

Making your way to your bedroom, you tried to hold it together. As soon as you got into bed, you laid on your side, facing away from the door. You didn’t want to talk to someone who wasn’t going to even attempt to hear your side of the story. Besides, who did he think he was saying he was the patient one in the relationship? For the past few weeks, you have been right by his side as he tried to push you away with his screaming and temperamental mood. No, you were right.

But your heart hurt so much. You hated fighting with him. Before all of this, Wooyoung was the perfect guy. He was kind, considerate, and always listened to you, no matter what. How could all of that just disappear in a couple of months? You loved him and you knew you loved him very much. But it was times like this that you found it very difficult to love him. You wanted to keep fighting for this relationship, but what if he didn’t want to anymore? You didn’t think your heart could handle such agony. So you closed your eyes, hoping to sleep it off till the morning.

The bed dipped beside you, making you scowl. Just what did he think he was doing, trying to sleep in the same bed as you right now? If you knew what was good for you, you’d demand he take the couch tonight. But, something inside you didn’t want to yell anymore. A part of you was exhausted from all this fighting that had happened tonight. All you wanted, deep down, was your boyfriend back. You knew he was there, he was just lost.

Still, despite all of your inner turmoil, you managed to point out, “Don’t act like everything is fine when it’s not. You know that kind of shit drives me crazy.”

“I told you, I’m not going to bed angry with you.” He mumbled.

Your eye twitched open and you turned your head to give him a small glare. “What do you want from me, Wooyoung? You won’t even listen to me and you’re dead set on being right in this argument. What could you possibly do to make me not mad at you?”

He sighed, looking away from you. “I’d rather hear you scream at me then walk away, Y/n. I also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Sitting up, he followed suit. You both just stared at each other, wondering how in the world you got yourselves in this mess in the first place. You were so close before all of this. Everyone thought you were made for each other. Now, everything felt so different and neither of you liked it. There was only one thing to do.

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” He interjected. “Don’t be sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I’m the one who started yelling lies first and I’m the one who started taking advantage of you. You’ve always been there for me and I just took it for granted. I thought that everything you did was a given and not something I needed to work for. You are worth it. Everything I have done to you in these past few weeks was completely uncalled for. You deserve to be with someone who sees you for the treasure you are. I love you so very much Y/n, but if you see yourself being happier without me, I will step aside with no questions asked. However, if you can find it in your heart to give this idiot a second chance, I’ll fight for us like there’s no tomorrow. Because you deserve nothing less than the best of anyone who is worthy enough to hold your heart in their hands.”

Your heart cracked at his words and your bottom lip quivered. You took a deep breath to keep yourself from bursting into tears and spoke softly to say, “Wooyoung, I love you too. And I do need to apologize. I did yell at you too when I could have listened to you calmly and rationally. I was just scared that everything was changing, and not for the better. We both said things we regret and we can both learn from our mistakes. I love you so much and I want to fight for us as well. Because we both are worth it. We both deserve nothing less than the best from each other.”

Wooyoung gave a weak smile before his hand inched over to yours. You let him hold it and a smile bloomed on your face. His grin grew and he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles before looking deep into your eyes.

“Let’s not go to bed angry.”

“Taking back everything I said.”

“Baby, let’s not do this.”

“Baby, I don’t want to go to bed angry.”

You smiled and pressed your forehead against his. He let out a soft sigh and another I love you before gently pulling away. Things were still going to be different for a while, but you knew you were going to be okay. Tomorrow morning, you were going to talk about what went wrong and how to move on from there. You were going to get through this, together, just like you promised.

“Let’s go to bed Wooyoung,” You whispered and he nodded slightly. As you laid down, you let him pull you closer to his chest. With a smile and a sigh, you fell asleep knowing that your boyfriend has found his way again.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 2 years

Text

Win

wooyoung x princess/assassin!reader

royal au but wooyoung is from the enemy nation and you both are sort of undercover

genre and warnings: fluff, angst, mild smut, violence warnings, mention of death and violence

synopsis: you are the princess of wonderland but also an undercover agent for your nation. on one of your undercover assassination missions, you happen to cross paths with wooyoung, also undercover. you cross paths again as princess and the representative of utopia's foreign affairs, and learn that wooyoung is a wonderland native but serves the enemy nation. though you two don't make the connection instantly, wooyoung soon realises that you are both princess and assassin- and you realise he serves utopia only on the surface. will you two team up and prevent utopia from taking your homeland? will wooyoung be loyal to you, the princess of the homeland that he has hated all his life, or to the place that raised and fed him?

-> part 1

-> part 2

status: complete

taglist: closed

#im back after a long break with another royal au #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung fluff #ateez angst #jung wooyoung angst #ateez smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez series #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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ateezreactionsandscenarios · 2 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors | Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/n is a journalism student who’s just started her internship at Ocean Media, what she thought was going to be a smooth sailing internship actually turned out to be something much more complicated when she becomes caught up in a fling with none other than Mr Jung Wooyoung...The CEO of Ocean Media...And her boss.

Pairing: CEO! Jung Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Slice of life, Angst, Suggestive, Eventual Smut, Fluff.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 28.5k (So far)

a/n: This is my first ever series, so apologies if it’s not the best and might come off a little rushed at times, I’m still trying to get to grips with laying out and writing something like this, but I hope this will be a learning curve for future my series.

Prompt List Main MasterList Buy me a Coffee

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - Coming Soon

Chapter 9 - Coming Soon

Chapter 10 - Coming Soon

Chapter 11 - Coming Soon

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yearningandpatheticaboutit · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER 13: SOMEONE IS COMING

warnings: murder, arson.

wc: 5141

prev chapter

***

"alright, hurry up! we don't have all night!"

seonghwa chuckles, watching changbin's short frame from above. he leans against the railing of the upperfloor of the warehouse, a cigarette between his lips as he observes the lower ranks moving merchandise. he's getting bored already, but changbin's loud and authoritative voice in that tiny body proves to be sufficient entertainment.

changbin sighs and shakes his head, somehow his eyes drift up toward seonghwa. he seems startled, as if not expecting the man's face. it brings him to seonghwa in just a minute.

"miss A said all the big dogs would be here. i didnt know that meant you too," changbin says.

seonghwa snorts, his lips curving slyly. "am i not the biggest dog?"

changbin raises his eyebrow. "you are, that's why you should be on the tightest leash."

killing other gang members are not allowed under any circumstance unless they turn out to be traitors. changbin is as loyal as they come, but that didn't make seonghwa's hand itch any less. its curved around his hunting knife, which happens to be resting in the pocket of his long black coat.

"why do you want me gone so bad, Binnie? am i bothering you by being here?" seonghwa asks, sighing dramatically.

changbin bites the inside of his cheek. he'd heard about seonghwa when he was a junior in the gang, a bitch and a nobody. when he moved up, the man was still like a tale told by pirates. folklore. always in the shadows. he only saw him once or twice, either gambling or killing people.

yunho was an avid gambler. you would always find him at a table, whether it be at a restaurant, in a club, a casino. he was there. yunho made a lot of bets he couldnt pay up, and he lost often. seonghwa was his final collector. he paid the ultimate price.

"i think everyone in the streets know you offed Dirty Ho," changbin leans in closer to whisper. it only makes seonghwa's grin widen, thinking that changbin could be scared of death.

"point is, i dont know if you should be here. not sure why miss A would let you come to some small fry work like this."

"do you really not know, Binnie?" seonghwa frowns mockingly. "are you really a big dog yourself?"

"i know this is bait for the black dragons. but come on! its too obvious, dangling yunho's killer infront of them? everyone knows this...if the black dragons know you're here they'd know..."

seonghwa lightly slaps changbin on his shoulder, making him pause in his rambling.

"dont underestimate miss A. she knows what she's doing. she anticipated yunho would run and knew how to intercept him. now she's luring the BGs out. has she ever been wrong?"

then, as if fate thought this was a movie or videogame, gunshots erupt from outside. seonghwa and changbin's heads turn together like alert birds, their hands instantly going to their weapons.

changbin moves to run, but seonghwa grabs him by the bicep, making the man turn with a glare. "what are you doing? cmon! they're here!"

seonghwa coolly shakes his head. "we have lots of boys out there. let them come to us."

changbin's clenches his jaw, hating that idea completely. but seonghwa's ranked far higher than him, so he hits brakes and hangs back, refusing to untighten his grip on his knife.

the chaos outside grows louder. eventually there's a loud boom outside. a bright orange glow flashes by the entrance of the warehouse. it dims after a few seconds, but its still there. a fire?

men start running inside the warehouse, some of them getting blasted in the back. guns. seonghwa finally pulls a pistol from his pocket and points it at the entrance, waiting for the enemy to walk in.

it never happens. instead the entire place starts smelling like gasoline.

changbin keeps tossing looks of stress to seonghwa, irritated that they arent doing anything. "we can't just stand here!" he says, exasperated.

seonghwa doesn't really care. he looks past changbin's buff shoulders, seeing another figure on the mezzanine. he smiles, because its another assassin.

he's got red hair, noticable ear piercings and glint in his eye that seonghwa has definetely heard of before. there's something in his hand. changbin stiffens when he realizes its a match.

"the butcher?" the man asks with a tilt of his head. he looks changbin up and down then snorts with disgust. "you don't look like much to be having that kinda name?"

"im the butcher," seonghwa speaks up, his smirk growing. "and you are?"

"thats Fangs," changbin says, a pathetic waver present in his voice. "kim hongjoong. he's been in prison for armed robbery and murder for years?"

hongjoong smiles. "well, i got out. and im looking for a few people."

"me?" seonghwa grins. changbin is terrified by how normal the conversation is going when a black dragon is right infront of them. hongjoong only chuckles, then launches his entire body at changbin.

changbin's knife hits the steel, with hongjoong kicking it through the railing. seonghwa jumps in, trying to pull hongjoong from changbin's body, but as he's lifted, hongjoong kicks changbin in the chest, sending him folding over the railing.

seonghwa is pushed against the other side of the railing as hongjoong struggles, attempting to stab him. seonghwa has just enough speed to evade, but hongjoong's knife catches his leg, forcing him to let go.

seonghwa hits the floor, blood spurting from the wound above his knee. he grounds his teeth as hongjoong smiles and stands above him menacingly.

"ive come out of retirement for you fucker. where's the other two?" he asks, flipping the knife between his fingers.

who? seonghwa looks at him in confusion through his pain, trying to move back. hongjoong ends up stomping on his other leg, forcing his heel into it. seonghwa screams in agony, glaring through his hair.

"what the fuck are you talking about?!" he yells.

hongjoong throws out a punch, knocking seonghwa to the side. "dont scream, fucker. thats rude. where's the other two bastards that got our buddy killed?"

when seonghwa doesnt answer, hongjoong sighs and moves back, lighting the match.

"what are you doing?" seonghwa coughs, eyes going wide.

"tell Miss A this is a gift from us to her."

hongjoong drops the match down the mezzanine, setting the bottom floor of the warehouse alight. flames burst to life, spreading to nearly all corners. screams erupt from the bottom, ending the already dying men.

"fuck you!" seonghwa screams, finally pulling his pistol and pointing it at hongjoong. it barely spends a second in his hand before hongjoong boots him off the edge of the mezzanine, sending him thrashing into the flames below.

***

Yaera

i decided to go looking all over the house for san. after five minutes of being bored and horny, i didnt want to be just sit and wait for him to be finished.

where there's potential for more blackmail, i go exactly there.

not that i dont trust san, but if any of this goes wrong for me, i need to remember what im doing this for. if i ever need more money, yeosang is right there. im not going to pass up that golden opportunity.

i stiffen when i get downstairs, running right into jongho. he runs me into the wall, pausing when he sees me. he's beaten up still, he looks horrible. and his eyes are burning with hatred when they finally take me in.

we stand there for what feels like forever, but its only ten unbearable seconds. he moves past me with a purpose, no words exchanging between us.

and where the fuck is he going so determinedly?

jongho only really hangs in one place at a party, with yeosang. where yeosang is, usually there's more expensive booze, a bunch of girls and probably drugs.

and the situation on this night, is i need to be exactly where yeosang is.

i follow jongho, the blasting music masking the sound of my persistent steps going after him. he's marching, he doesnt even once look behind him. i guess he's pissed.

i dont know the layout of this place, but jongho cuts through an empty room and stops infront of the door. i slide behind a wall quickly, knowing he most likely turned around to check for anyone. the music is muted in this part of the house, so i only come out from behind the wall once i hear the opening and shutting of the door.

i go the same route, finding a dim hallway and no jongho. it reminds me of the sketchy place i followed san after school the first day i met him. weird time to get deja vu but i came prepared. i creep down the hallway and cautiously peer around the wall at the end, seeing san and wooyoung standing infront of yeosang.

yeosang's sitting on a couch in what looks like a garage. and he has a shit-smug grin on his face. san's fist is clenched and wooyoung looks tense. oh yeah, this definetely isnt going well.

“money?” yeosang lets out a laugh. “youre not getting any money.”

"what?" san snaps.

“you disrespected me, and these rosies are to make up for the shitty service. its a gift so that i stay a part of your shitty clientele. i dont owe you shit, lazarus. all this is mine.”

what the fuck is going on. i dont hear the next few words that get exchanged. i pull my taser from my jacket pocket, readying myself for any and all bullshit. i know its about to hit the fan.

jongho grabs a lamp from the corner of the room, hitting it right over san's head. the glass shatters against it and he drops to the floor, out cold. wooyoung screams and tries to attack jongho, but he's struck in the face with the base of the lamp, the attack too quick to dodge.

wooyoung falls to his knee and jongho finishes him with a punch to the face. he flops down next to san and i grind my teeth. jongho continues to beat them both, alternating kicks in the stomach between them.

"fucking! assholes!" he kicks with every word. "fucking! lowlives!"

"alright relax, buddy, they're out." yeosang chuckles. the girls on his couch arent reacting. they should be running for the hills right now. how much is this bastard paying them?

"nah. ive been wanting to do that for a long time," jongho grunts. "its personal."

"i get it. have you seen marino around?"

"ran into her. as soon as i find that bitch again she's done."

"you have my permission to escort her out of the party." yeosang raises a glass to jongho. he drops the lamp and takes it, swallowing it all in one gulp.

these assholes.

i come out from behind the wall, holding the taser behind my back. "you got anything to tell me, jongho?" i say, feigning curiousity.

they both jump in their skin when they see me. "fucking hell," yeosang breathes. "were you here the whole time? you're creepy, marino!"

"i only show when im summoned," i force a smile. "well? care to explain what happened to my friends?"

"they got what they deserved," yeosang answers cockily. "honestly, you're not so innocent. so you might too."

i hum and turn my eyes on jongho, who's borderline hyperventilating. he's pissed angry when he sees me, his face reddening and his shoulders just barely steady. its scary, but its nothing i havent seen before. jongho isnt the most stable person out there, ironic i know, coming from me. i guess thats why we gravitated towards each other back then.

"you bitch!" he yells and marches towards me. he grabs me by the neck and forces me against the wall, pushing me up. my head knocks against the surface and i yelp, steadying my breath. fuck okay, we're doing this.

his body presses me into the surface, and i barely have space to breathe with his angry breaths fanning me in the face.

"i hate you so fucking much," he hisses venomously. "everyday i wish it was you that was gone. i regret it. i regret everything we did. i wish i never met you!"

"likewise," i squeeze out, and he harshly grabs my face with his hand.

"dont bullshit me. i know you loved me," he scornfully laughs and i feel myself getting triggered. "you loved me and i only loved her. thats why you took all my pictures of her. you want me to forget her but i wont. i'll only remember her. i'll only cherish her. but you? i'd toss you away any fucking day, yaera. any fucking day."

yeosang gasps dramatically. "woah, marino. are you gonna let that slide?"

a single tear escapes me. not because im hurt. i just cant believe i ever loved someone like this. im beyond embarrassed. pissed at myself even. i beat myself up about it enough. now this? fuck no.

"oh yeah jongho?" i smirk dryly. he clenches his jaw harder. he wanted a different reaction out of me.

"yeah, yaera. you mean nothing to me."

"feelings mutual," i grit out and put the taser into his stomach.

jongho instantly lets me go, turning red as his entire body starts thrashing with electricity. he drops to the ground and screams, his reaction prompting yeosang to jump up from the couch. and the girls on him finally burst out running.

"what the fuck?!" yeosang screams. he moves to come towards me and i hold out the taser, making him jump back. he narrows his eyes at me, lifting his arms in surrender.

"you want some too?" i challenge.

"you have NO idea what you're getting into, yaera!" yeosang snaps, taking me aback. i smile, i cant believe i made kang yeosang lose his cool. that's the first time i ever heard him raise his voice, well at me anyway.

i use my foot to shake wooyoung awake. he stirs and looks up, disorientated. a trail of blood leaks down his lips from his nose.

he winces and feels his nose, letting out a hard groan. yeosang is frozen in fear as he stares at wooyoung. he tries to run but wooyoung springs at him, tackling him into the ground.

"bitch!" wooyoung screams as he grabs yeosang's hair, using it to slam his head into the floor multiple times. after a while they stop struggling and yeosang is dazedly looking up at the ceiling.

i move and try and wake san up, who is just gone from that head hit. i touch his hair, looking in horror at my fingertips as blood sits on them.

"i think the lamp cut his head," i say to wooyoung.

wooyoung curses and gets up, not before spitting on yeosang. he bends down next to me, shaking his head at his knocked out friend.

"lets carry him out to the van. i dont wanna be here another second."

i sneak a look at yeosang. "what about him?"

wooyoung scoffs. "fuck him. we'll get him back for this. he wont get shit from us after this."

maybe then he'll take up sobrierity. i take san's one arm and wooyoung takes the other and we carry him out of the garage, leaving those two assholes passed out where they are.

carrying san out of the party goes unnoticed. he looks like just another drunk guy who partied too hard. but im worried because of the blood in his head. im sure there's still left over painkillers and bandages from when i took care of his first wound. i lay san down in the backseat and slide next to wooyoung in the front.

its awkward as we start driving. wooyoung isnt even playing music. hes just gripping the steering wheel with his jaw clenched.

"you need me to check that nose of yours?" i ask him to break the tension.

"didnt realize you were a registered nurse," he snarkily answers. geez. "its not broken. you can lay off."

this guy is such an asshole. i dont ask him anything further, choosing to focus on the road.

"how did you know where we were?" he suddenly brings up, tossing me a distrustful look.

"what?"

"at the party. how did you know where to find us?"

"i followed jongho," i shrugged. "he looked like he was going somewhere serious. and i had a gut feeling. then i found you both."

wooyoung nods and sighs. he looks like he wants to thank me but doesnt know how. i just take the fact that he's asking as a thanks.

we pull up to san's place and wooyoung gets a phone call. he looks at the ID and scowls, cursing again before answering.

"yeah?" he says. it takes five seconds to pass, then his entire face changes.

"what happened?" he stammers.

i should move but i dont. i sit there and watch wooyoung's expression change from angry to filled with fear in no time. i dont even think of how much time has passed when he puts the phone down.

"i need to go," he tells me, not meeting my eyes. "i'll put san to bed and dip. you need to stay here with him."

"i was going to anyway," i say. "wait, what happened?"

he's spooked. his tan complexion looks like a squid swam underneath his skin and inked it full of grey. he gets out of the van without answering me and goes around the back to pick up san. i get out to help him too.

we carry san into the elevator of his apartment building, the silence deafening. wooyoung's reflection in the mirror is haunted, and hes standing with his mouth half parted the entire time.

god, as if more bad news was needed. if this is how he's reacting i dont even want to know how bad it will affect san. i know its not personal.

when we get inside san's apartment, wooyoung and i put him down on the nearest bed, the one i always sleep on. he's completely lame, yet his face looks like an angel. i close him with blankets and wooyoung gives me a dead serious stare.

"do not open this door for anyone," he presses like im a child. "if you need help, san has knives in his sock drawer."

he slams the door and leaves, not even giving me a chance to answer. okay, that's fucking unsettling.

for the first time tonight, i look at my phone. there are missed calls from my family and i know im in trouble. i cant be bothered though. i send a text to my father letting him know im sleeping at a friends house, adding a selfie so he knows i am in fact alive.

i dont wait for a response and sit myself down at san's desk, looking at his fishtank. watching the mollies swim in circles eventually put me to sleep.

***

san

when i wake up, my brain feels like it fell down a flight of stairs.

the entire back of my head is throbbing and i cant even tell where i am. my vision blurrily focuses on the blue in my room, until it focuses on my fishtank. i try to get up, wanting to feed them, but as soon as i get to my feet i stumble into the wall. my arm is grabbed and my soul jumps inside me when i see yaera.

my mind is blank. "morning sunshine," she says with a soft smile. oh god.

i stare at her and shes wearing an old shirt of mine over the skirt she had on last night.

"did we sleep together?" i ask. i look down and my clothes are still on but i cant remember when i got home. all i remember is...

her lips on mine in a dark room and my walls and feelings of caring slipping rapidly.

"if i said yes would you be mad?" yaera grins. my face falls instantly and i hold my head, feeling more lightheaded. i fucking slept with yaera and i cant even remember. what a waste of space my life is.

"i cant believe this," i groan and pull at my hair, falling back onto my bed. this was NOT supposed to happen. why was i so weak?

yaera sighs and sits down next to me. "no we did not sleep together, pagliaccio. i'll pretend to not be offended by your reaction."

oh. i awkwardly look at her and she's glaring at me. i want to fall down a hole. so did the rest of the night happen...? was it real?

i want to ask everything on my tongue but all i can get out is, "what did you call me?"

"i called you a clown," she clicks her tongue in annoyance. "how are you feeling? does your head hurt?"

i nod, wincing. i must have had too much to drink. and i blame her, because i was trying hard to not care about kissing her. i couldnt do it without the liquid courage, i was too afraid. because i have never met anyone like her in my life.

"san?" she frowns at me. "do you remember what yeosang did to you?"

"yeosang..?" as i utter his name everything comes flooding back. that bastard.

i grind my teeth against each other and seethe. he robbed me. kang yeosang seems to think hes immortal. he seems to think nothing can ever go wrong for him. him and jongho both.

i laugh bitterly. "well, what a shitfest that party was, huh?"

"it wasnt all bad," yaera eyes me. i feel my face redden. i have to handle this soon. "but lets talk about what you're going to do about it. you gonna let him get away with it?"

i cant even think straight at the moment. "where's woo?" i ask her. surely he didnt just let things be. i know his impulsive ass probably left both yeosang and jongho with some missing teeth.

yaera frowns. "i dont know actually. he took off last night and seemed off. i think something happened. he got a phone call, put you to bed and then quickly took off. you should check on him."

phone call? it had to be from changbin then. we were due to hear from him anyway. i pull my phone from out of my pocket and there arent any missed calls for me. thats weird.

"do you think you're in trouble?"

her dark brown eyes are innocent like a deer's in asking me that. truth is, i dont even know. i dont know how to feel entirely. all i know is my head is spinning and i cant believe a thousand things.

"i dont think anything." i say honestly.

yaera lightly rubs my shoulder, a soft look in her eyes making my chest burn. this is bad. she becomes conscious of our contact, suddenly looking at her own hand and awkwardly pulling away.

"so...you're still going to be my date for tonight, right?" her voice is hopeful. i want to say no.

i want to say no because im scared. i dont want this. i dont want this kind of attachment.

"well, i did say i would be. plus its for business," i shrug. yaera lightly raises her brows, not pleased with that answer. of course she isnt.

"business, of course." she tightly smiles. "è tutto un affare per te?"

i scowl. "are you cursing me out again?"

she gets up and goes to the kitchen, pulling out a cigarette as she opens my fridge. i swear its like she moved in here. "at least that lamp didnt completely knock the common sense out of you. get ready and go shower, i promised my parents i'd be home soon and they have to meet you."

"what?" i stutter. "sorry??"

she turns around and gives me a deadpan look. "where fucking else are you going to get a suit for the gala? you have to come to my house remember?"

i shouldnt have said yes to this thing. i feel out of place and the energy between us is weird. i know im making it weird but i dont know how to act. we kissed. and were going to do much more than that. its not a good thing. theres no way this ends well.

i say nothing and go shower, my head hurting for more reasons than the lamp now.

***

yaera

all i can say is, i hate men. i hate them with a burning passion.

i hate my uber driver. and i especially hate the man next to me in this fucking uber.

san isnt saying a word to me. hes staring out the window as we drive to my house, completely avoiding conversation. coward. he couldnt keep his lips off me the night before and now he cant even look me in the eye.

a familiar feeling floods back. its an empty feeling. i dont know what it is, but i'd remember being filled with it back when jongho and i were the present.

he'd kiss me. and touch me. and he'd spill all his desires in my ear whenever we were alone. it was nice while it lasted, those few times he was mine. then we'd get around my sister. or her friends. and we'd get to school, and suddenly i didnt exist to him.

i was pathetic. i tried hard to get his attention. i'd move closer to him when he talked. even though we'd just insult each other. i'd try to make conversation when we were in a group setting. he'd respond and not look me in the eye.

then later on when we're alone again, he'd tell me how pretty i looked all day. he'd tell me how he couldnt wait till the day ended to see me. no matter how much he cussed at me, embarrassed me and humiliated me infront of others, he'd still want me to come back.

and i went back. so many times. and it was so fucking humiliating.

i swore to myself when it all ended. when i knew for certain he wouldnt ever care about me the way i cared about him, that i would never do this to myself again.

and yet here i am, the deja vu waving infront of me like a fucking flag in the wind. but somehow worse, because san wont even acknowledge what happened.

"thanks," i tip the uber driver and get out of the car infront of my house. i got my books and everything so my parents have proof i was out studying.

im in a shit mood so i dont say anything on the way to the front door. san is following behind me like a lost puppy and its pissing me off. i dont even want him as a date anymore, i just want to see him in a damn suit.

"what do i call your parents?" he asks me as i knock on the door.

"Mr and Mrs Cunt," i sarcastically answer, not looking at him. san sighs in response.

one of the maids open the door and i mumble a greeting before bulldozing through. i find my mother and father sitting at the kitchen island, both furious in the eyes as they see me.

i go kiss them on the cheeks. "mamma, papà."

my mother shoots me a dirty look. "and where the hell have you been? you smell like cigarettes!"

"i was hanging out with some friends and i slept over," i act casual, looking to my father. "i told you, didn't i, papá?"

"you sent me a message last night after being gone ALL day," he slams his cup onto the island, glaring at me. "what did i tell you, yaera?"

"is this that boy who had bruises all over his face the last time?" my mother asks, looking directly at san with narrowed eyes.

san is confused. he doesnt seem to recall when and where my mother has seen him. but i know. from the very next day we decided our partnership, my mother laid eyes on him.

she said he looks like trouble. man if she knew.

"mamma, papá, this is choi san. he's the guy who tutors me. he's also my friend from class and my date for tonight's gala," i introduced, getting growing stares from my parents.

"date?" they both repeat, scowling.

"san, this is my mother, monica marino and my father, ruan marino."

"hello, its nice to meet you all," san says and bows. god this is so awkward.

"so you are tutoring yaera in what?" my mother questions harshly. san gulps and his face screams unprepared. im annoyed at her crudeness but i knew it was inevitable.

"biology, Mrs Marino."

"have the two of you slept together yet?"

"mamma!" i interject, sighing. she wears a twisted grin. san is just standing there like he wants to fade into the wall.

"im sorry. im not sure what you mean, Mrs Marino?"

"has my daughter thrown herself at you?" she repeats more harshly. "are you the reason she keeps sneaking out?"

shes always fucking doing this.

"Moni, we called the school, remember?" my useless father finally decides to speak up instead of just being a bystander. "the headmaster said he is a good kid. one of the best."

"hmmm, they're all good kids in the faces of adults. its when they are out of your sight when you truly see who they are. look at yaera, she acts innocent here and then disappears and comes back smelling like every substance under the sun," my mother scoffs.

"but anyway, welcome to our home, choi san. go with Mr Marino. he'll find you a suit to wear for tonight. are you familiar with Brioni?"

"polony?" san asks. oh god. its going to be a long night.

my mother smirks. "of course you arent. go and help him, mi amor."

my father sighs and abandons his food, beckoning san with a wave of his hand. the two of them disappear into the house and i cant help but stare at my mother tiredly.

"was that necessary?" i ask. "why did you embarrass me? ive been doing everything you ask of me. im here, im going to your events. i did the shoot."

"its not about what i want, yaera," my mother tightly says, irritated. "only when santo is happy with you is when i will be happy with you. now go shower, you smell like an old smoker."

i grit my teeth. if thats what it takes for her to be happy with me, then i guess none of us will be fucking happy.

***

next chapter

tagslist : @brown88 @yujispinkhair @sansonlygf

#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung angst #ateez crime au

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hwanchaesong · 2 years

Text

“Dissemble”

Synopsis: Chilhood love, bestfriends, and summers all ended up within your backseat point of view.

👤: ATEEZ Jung Wooyoung

📼: Home For The Summer & Backseat Rider - Sara Kays

genre & warnings: angst, slight fluff, university au, bestfriend au, cursing, mentions of beer, smoke, party

word count: 2k

"Look at that bastard."

Wooyoung ushered you to look at a smug looking man who just parked his expensive car in the empty lot near the convenience store.

"And what about him?"

He scoffed, leaning on the bench that the two of you are currently seated, "He's annoying."

You raised an eyebrow at him, finding his irrational anger adorable.

"I think it's better for you to admit that you're just jealous."

Your straightforward jab made him look at you with a feigned hurt expression, tightly clutching his chest.

"Rude, and to think that I treat you as a bestfriend."

You jokingly pushed him back, a big smile forming in his face when he heard your laughter.

"No, but for real though. I will buy a car like that soon enough and then we could go anywhere that we like."

That was the promise that he had given to you back in middle school.

Come highschool days and he legit made that silly pledge into reality.

Fetching you from the comfort of your home using that new car of his to attend an evening party that your school hosted, only for the both of you to ditch it when you couldn't stand the smell of smoke and sweat.

It was a fun night. You, sitting in the passenger seat and watching as he lets go of the stirring wheel, making you almost pee yourself while your entire life flashes before your eyes.

Jung Wooyoung was your childhood friend, bestfriend, a person that you can always trust and lean on. You even dare say that he's your happy pill.

So it's safe to say that you were devastated when the news was dropped. The two of you will go to different universities for college, which are miles away.

"I will miss you a lot." you pouted, helping him arrange his clothes into his bag.

"I will miss you too." he smiles a bit, looking fondly at the hoodie that you returned to him today.

It's not like you wanted this to happen, but the two of you have different goals and dreams in life. Ultimately accepting the fact that you're bound to be separated at one point.

Him wanting to go to a dance academy, and you are hoping to graduate in a university that offers an english literature course.

Still, you wanted to compromise.

"You know I was thinking-"

Wooyoung cackled after a few seconds of awkward pause, "We really do have synergy here bestie. So, what do you wanna say?"

You contemplated for a bit, but in the end, you should be honest with him.

"Let's promise to spend time with each other during summer breaks, okay?"

"I was actually thinking of the same thing," he held his pinky out to you, urging yours to link with it, "I promise to do that."

That was a vow that the both of you religiously followed. Every time you get to go home around the same time he's in your hometown, you always make sure to hang out with him. Catch up with life, share stories and experiences.

That car of his that he proudly shows off whenever he can, you use that most of the time for impulsive road trips.

Talking about senseless things to singing your heads off to whatever's playing on the radio. (let's be real, Wooyoung's belting notes if a BTS song comes up)

Going to the beaches and unexplored parks or forests, spending too much time there until the sun sets.

Heads craned up to stare at the dark skies painted with soft light from the moon and the balls of gasses winking at you from above.

Two years spent like that, all fun and games until one day, he brought a new girl home and everything came spiralling down.

"Everyone! This is Hwang Yeji, my girlfriend. I met her during a contemporary dance class and damn, she's great as fuck."

That is how he introduced her, like a queen.

You really don't have anything against her, she's so nice and friendly. Now, there's this one embarrassing moment that you recalled.

The first time that he brought her with him to your hometown, a plan for the three of you to have a drive around town and give her a tour was made.

The next day, you were trudging towards the car, accidentally opening the door for the passenger seat.

'Uh?' Yeji's confused voice reeled you back into reality.

Thank your witty brain for creating a quick solution for the mistake you made.

You stepped aside and bowed, imitating a servant, "Miss Hwang Yeji, please take a seat."

She giggled at your antics, "Thank you Y/N, you're so funny and sweet."

At the corner of your vision, you saw Wooyoung give you a subtle thumbs up.

You didn't mind sitting at the backseat. You have all the space and heck, you can even lie down and sleep comfortably.

It was nice, so nice that it helped you held all your hidden emotions back.

It's not like you were hurt at the fact that they talk to each other like you weren't there. Listening to them converse about music, movies, tv shows and all that.

It's okay, even if Wooyoung used to do that with you.

Watching your bestfriend drape his jacket over her shoulders, share his earphones with her, wipe the sauce on the corner of her lips, tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

Worst of 'em all, her sitting beside Wooyoung like it's her rightful place.

Maybe it really is her spot, maybe you never really had it in the first place.

Nothing belonged to you, only the friendship and the title but beyond that, no more.

After a few weeks, you have come to terms with the fact that you did harbour some mistake of an emotion for that stupid midget guy.

One night, you closed your eyes, crying until the crack of dawn.

It's always difficult to accept something so painful.

It is not easy to cope with the harsh reality, knowing that someone who was in your life for a long time would not be a forever in your timeline.

That someone has your heart but you don't have theirs.

Thus, you let it all out through the form of silent sobs and prayers.

With that, a promise within yourself was created, 'I shall get rid of these feelings, be thankful enough for being his friend, and be genuinely happy for him.'

You'll be able to move on and love someone else in due time, and you definitely did through a dimpled, slanted-eyed person named Choi San.

He became your bright light during your darkest times, replacing the agonizing memories of your backseat charades into something more beautiful and colorful.

You inevitably brought him back home as well, shocking everyone that you, a girl who acts like a barbarian, finally got a boy who accepts you for who and what you are.

Wooyoung didn't know what to feel about that. So this is the reason why you weren't able to reply to him more, because you're busy with some other guy.

The man knows that whatever he's feeling and thinking right now is wrong. He has his own girlfriend for goodness sake, so why the hell is he getting sensitive over this boyfriend of yours.

The answer came to him like a wave when he saw San hugging you in the middle of your backyard. (please don't ask what he's doing there in the middle of the night, it's for scientific purposes)

The both of you were giggling, going from bantering into sweetly dancing under the stars like an old married couple.

Those are the things that he used to do with you, and now you have someone who will do those willingly, without any exchange.

Maybe he has feelings for you. Oh shit, yeah he does.

After that realization, he ran. Like literally and metaphorically.

His feet rattled every pebble he stepped on, heart beating fast like it's gonna pop out of his chest any minute, thoughts of you and Yeji fighting in his brain.

He only needs to choose one, and he already made up his mind.

Wooyoung returned to his dorm fairly early during that summer break, and he didn't came back for the next one. He was avoiding you like you're the plague, keen on keeping a life with Yeji and cutting ties with you to save his remaining sanity.

You were heartbroken for the third time, San consoling you the whole time.

"You did nothing wrong baby, the fault or mistake is not on your side. It will never be."

Communication slashed like a tape, never to be repaired like the deep connection you had with him. Severed hearts and former relationships, no one will be able to mend it.

10 years later.

The sound of glasses clanking, laughter and loud voices, chewing and drinking, noises mixing and echoing throughout the reception hall in the middle of the night.

A banner was loosely hanging on the front, in large font it says, 'Batch xxxx Reunion'

You entered the place and a smile was immediately formed in your face, oh how you missed this rowdy bunch of high school classmates.

"Y/N!"

You craned your neck to see the person who called you.

"Seonghwa!"

You helped yourself at their table, sitting beside Yunho who gladly gave you a plate of food.

"How was life?" Hongjoong initiated, a playful glint in his eyes that highkey glanced at the wedding ring on your finger.

"Well," you sassily started, lifting your hand up to show them the gorgeous ring that shined brilliantly under the light, "I'm fine and as you can see. Happy and inlove."

A chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' resonated on your table, shyly laughing away their teasing and focusing on eating your food instead.

When it was time for you to go home, you bid everyone a goodbye.

A certain person crossing your mind as you exited the place. Did he really not come?

"The princess is going home, huh?"

That made your eyes widen, turning around so fast to glance at the owner of the voice.

"Wooyoung."

There he was. The man that you were waiting for a decade.

He did not say anything, opting to open the door to his passenger seat and gesturing for you to come inside.

Making a similar gesture that you did a few years back, "Miss L/N Y/N, please take a seat."

You couldn't help the slight curl on the corner of your lips. Your feet naturally bringing you towards him and inside the car.

Then he started driving. Nervously biting his lower lip from time to time like he wanted to say something but he's not ready to let the words out yet.

"Is there something you wanna say, Wooyoung?"

The car came to a screeching halt, right in front of your childhood home.

"Congratulations on your wedding." he says, eyeing the piece of jewelry on your ring finger.

"You too, you really toughed it out with Yeji I see." you joked a bit, hoping to lighten the atmosphere up.

Truth to be told, you're not mad at him for ghosting you anymore. You don't have it in you to hold a grudge against him despite the empty feeling that he gave you when he left you without any sort of explanation why.

"Where do you live now?" he asked, now having the courage to make eye contact with you.

"San's hometown, Namhae." you answered with a fond smile, just the mere thought of San made you unusually giddy. The effect your husband has on you truly is impeccable.

"What about you?"

"In Seoul."

An awkward silence ensued, no more topics to talk about and honestly, Wooyoung's motor mouth has suddenly ran out of statements.

"Alright then, thank you for driving me home. Have a g-"

You were stopped when Wooyoung held your wrist, preventing you from moving.

"I'm sorry."

You didn't need to ask what for or why. You automatically knew that he's sorry for everything. And you forgive him instantly to protect your own peace and joy as well.

Your hands slithered towards his, and for a moment, Wooyoung thought that you'll intertwine your hands together like you did before whenever you assure him.

You didn't.

Instead, a handshake was formed through the contact.

"It's okay. I've forgiven you a long time ago, friend."

---------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@xddjoong @hyuckilstan @atzduskmeeting @ateezbabysitters @minkiflwr @hwadump @gwenchwana

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mi-rae07 · 1 year

Text

Jung Wooyoung : All of it

Pairing : Jung Woo-Young (Ateez) and named character (Yoon Nabi)

______________________________________

A/n : self-harming and mentions of blood

_______________________________________

Wooyoung slid against the wall in his living room, looking out into the city below him through the glass wall. The city that he disliked, filled with people who despised him and his existence. Scandals happened to every idol out there, but this big of a scandal? A scandal of having dealt and done drugs in high school while also, being a bully? Wooyoung knew this would destroy his career, he knew all that he had worked hard to build was gone within a span of 4 hours. It felt like thorns stabbing him, all that hate he had been receiving since last week, which was when the scandal first came out. It hadn't died down one bit, of course it hadn't.

While KQ said they'd investigate this matter, the public just didn't seem to care anymore. They had found a victim to pour all their hate and insecurities into, why would anyone care about wooyoung or his feelings? He was an idol after all, wasn't he?

His house had been flooded with people screaming at him and throwing objects whenever he tried stepping out, so he had somehow managed to escape to his girlfriend's penthouse that was located right above her business tower. She owned a clothing brand, a very famous one of that. It was how wooyoung and nabi had met, because he was her brand's global ambassador, or had been. Now he wasn't sure anymore, he didn't want people around the world to boycott nabi's brand because of his scandal, so he had asked her to remove his name from the brand.

Nabi being nabi, refused to do so. But since her brand was an excellent one and designed good clothes, people hadn't boycotted it as wooyoung had expected them to. Still, wooyoung was scared.

Wooyoung reached for his phone lying next to him, trying to look away from all the notifications that flooded his phone. Hate messages from twitter, instagram, bubble, there was no platform where wooyoung wasn't hated. Wooyoung dialed his girlfriend's number and called her, hoping she would pick up. She had gone for work, since their relationship was a secret to everyone but the Ateez members and people would grow suspicious if a workaholic like nabi stayed cooped up in her penthouse. Nabi picked up the call as she said, worry lacing her tone already

Nabi : woo? Is something wrong?

Wooyoung : nabi-ya.

Nabi : hmm? What is it?

Wooyoung sniffed, trying to control his tears

Wooyoung : where are you?

Nabi : I'm at the seoul hotel, bub. I have a meeting with Park Se-hyun within 5 minutes. It's…over a collaboration. Do you need me?

Wooyoung : No I just…I just w-wanted to hear your voice.

Nabi : wooyoung-ah, I will always be there when you need me love. Even now, if you want me, I'll drop this meeting and come right this second.

Wooyoung : no don't do that. I know this collab is important for you and the company.

Nabi : I don't care about the company jung wooyoung, nothing is going to happen to it if I drop this deal.

Wooyoung chuckled weakly, trying to joke as he always used to before this happened

Wooyoung : are you trying to flex your riches yoon nabi?

Nabi sighed through the line

Nabi : don't try to change matters. Wooyoung, do you need me?

Wooyoung : no, I'm fine.

Nabi : alright then, I have to leave now.

Wooyoung : mm.

Nabi : I love you, woo.

Wooyoung clenched his fingers, looking at the marble floor beneath him

Wooyoung : I love you too, bibi.

Wooyoung heard the line get cut, as he slowly pulled his phone away from his ears and brought it in front of him with teary eyes. He looked at his home screen, which was a picture of nabi with butterflies all around her, smiling. Wooyoung had taken this when the both of them had gone to japan for a vacation and visited a butterfly garden since nabi loved butterflies, just like her name.

Wooyoung flinched as a notification popped up in his phone, a twitter heading that read -

"Yoon Nabi, CEO of the Yoon company rumored to be dating Park Se-hyun, CEO of Park enterprises".

Wooyoung paused and clicked on the article, a photo of nabi and se-hyun coming into his view. It was a photo posted by se-hyun a few minutes ago, with them having their arms around each other while smiling into the camera. Wooyoung opened the instagram page and went through the comments, his lips pressed together as he saw the gazillion comments that went on about how the both of them looked beautiful together and truly deserved each other. There were a few saying they had seen them together multiples times this past month, wearing couple clothing and being very close to each other. The entire world was shipping his girlfriend with another man and all wooyoung could feel was helplessness.

It wasn't like he could deny it, was it? The both of them did look good together, nabi's dark green eyes complimenting the colored streaks of green in se-hyun's hair. They were both CEOs of rich successful companies, having made all their fortune by themselves and the public loved them both as individuals and a couple. And they were both beautiful as hell. While wooyoung? He was no match for nabi, he wasn't even half as successful as her and the public hated him. He only brought shame on his group.

Wooyoung opened his past chats with nabi, scrolling through them as he now realized the amount of times nabi had answered his question of where she was with the same answer, "with park se-hyun". It was always him, every single time and wooyoung had never noticed it. And now that he had, he felt his heart drop as more tears filled his eyes.

He didn't doubt his girlfriend, he just knew he was trash compared to her and that she deserved so much better. She deserved what park se-hyun could give her, not what jung wooyoung could. Because now all wooyoung could give her was hate and backlash.

Wooyoung knew he could never get out of this scandal, those past days of the public swooning over him and calling him handsome was over. And the reactions he had gotten from the public when he tried to step out to the convenience store to buy ramen today afternoon had proved it to him. Wooyoung had barely managed to run back to safety before the people threw whatever they had with them at him. But even then, he had fallen on the floor while trying to run and had bruised his arm.

Wooyoung now looked at the small cut in his right arm, just a few centimeters away from his wrist. It was a cut but there wasn't much blood coming out of it, but for some reason, the light pain he felt in that area seemed to give him a sense of comfort now. And the more he stared at it, the more he felt the need to deepen the cut so as to increase the pain and thereby, increase the comfort he was desperately lacking. Wooyoung looked towards the dining table a few feet away from him, the golden cutlery placed on the table shining against the evening sunlight. And along with the spoon and forks placed there, were the knives. There it was, his comfort.

Wooyoung wiped his tears and stood up, stumbling towards the dining table and grabbing a knife before going back to his previous spot and falling on the floor once again as he rested his head against the glass window. He wanted to look at the city that was torturing him as he cut himself. He could see the seoul hotel from this height, a small building compared to the tower he was in right now. Nabi would be there, wouldn't she? Along with park se-hyun, a man who actually deserved her. A man who could take care of nabi better than wooyoung ever would be able to.

This seemed to be the last straw for wooyoung as he brought the knife closer to the cut in his arm and pressed exactly against it, hissing in pain as he felt it seep through his arm. Blood dripped down his arm and fell on the black marble floor drop by drop, camouflaging against the dark surface. A sob tore out of wooyoung at the pain, his fingers trembling as he pressed the knife even deeper. Wooyoung threw his head back against the wall, pulling the knife slightly away in order to feel the pain turn into comfort. And he felt it, felt the comfort of this physical pain.

Wooyoung inhaled deeply, feeling a small smile spread on his face as tears fell down his cheeks one by one, mixing with the blood droplets on the floor as it fell down drop by drop. What a beauty the world was, how easy it was for the world to turn itself against a person within such less time when it once loved and glorified that same person. And how easy it was for someone to stop loving him.

After what felt like a few minutes wooyoung picked up the knife again, bringing it closer once again to the same cut in his arm that now had dried blood around it. The pain was fading in the slightest, wooyoung had to bring it back with even more intensity, he didn't want to get used to the pain at all. Wooyoung touched the edge of the knife against the cut, feeling a slight prick.

??? : w-wooyoung.

Yoon nabi had stopped the meeting with her bestfriend se-hyun mid-way, feeling uneasy about wooyoung's call that she had received a few minutes ago. The way he had said her name didn't sit right with her, she could feel the need through the way he spoke. Wooyoung's voice was only weak and slow when he felt pain, he only dragged his words when he needed nabi next to him. And he had done that today, nabi had to go to wooyoung. She was sure se-hyun would understand.

And se-hyun did, he had been with nabi since middle school and was one of the few people who knew about wooyoung and his relationship with nabi. She had pulled him out of the conference room and told him that she needed to leave because of wooyoung. Se-hyun had understood and promised to make a sensible excuse for her to the other people attending the meeting before giving her a hug.

And now here nabi was, looking at wooyoung who was now looking at her with a face filled with pure shock. Nabi was pretty sure she had turned pale from the sight in front of her. Nabi had imagined wooyoung in various situations throughout her 5 years with him. But seeing him on the floor with a knife in his hand and a wound in his other, never. Never in her life had she thought she would have to face this.

Nabi : oh my god, woo.

Wooyoung quickly tried pulling down his sleeves and realized with a start that he was wearing half sleeves. Wooyoung threw the knife away and stood up, covering his arm behind him as he said

Wooyoung : Nabi, you're not supposed to be here.

Nabi : wooyoung, wooyoung are you…are you hurting yourself?

Wooyoung shook his head desperately at the way nabi looked at him with those eyes.

Wooyoung : I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I couldn't-

Nabi : you cut yourself?

The unsureness and shock filled in nabi's voice made even more tears fall down wooyoung's cheek. He never wanted to hurt her, he just wanted some sort of comfort but now he felt even more pain envelope him.

Nabi : wooyoung you-you could've died if I hadn't come now. How…oh lord.

Wooyoung : please, please nabi-ya-

Nabi fell on the floor, tears falling from her eyes as she pressed her lips and looked at the drops of blood lying on the floor a few meters away from her, wooyoung's blood. She felt wooyoung run up to her, kneeling on the floor and holding her arm. Wooyoung had never seen nabi cry, never.

Wooyoung : bibi, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, love-

Nabi : wooyoung do you know how precious you are to me?

Wooyoung paused as nabi looked up at wooyoung's teary eyes

Nabi : I've tried everything in my power to stop people from hurting you, to protect you from the world but now…I never thought I would have to protect you from yourself wooyoung.

Wooyoung looked on the ground, his tears falling on the sleeve of nabi's white suit.

Nabi : you're the only person I have wooyoung, I have no one in this world apart from you, so what am I going to do if you leave?

Wooyoung sobbed, clenching his fist against nabi's dress.

Nabi : why? Why did you do it? Is it just because of those people hating on you for something you've never done?

Wooyoung : nabi-ya, nabi please. Please stop crying.

Nabi sniffed and looked away before saying

Nabi : tell me why you did this wooyoung. Tell me why you hurt the one person I love with my entire life.

Wooyoung sobbed as he whispered

Wooyoung : I wanted to rid you of a burden like me, nabi-ya. I…

Wooyoung inhaled shakily as nabi shut her eyes tightly

Wooyoung : I saw your photo with se-hyun and I thought-I thought-

Nabi : you thought I should be dating him instead of you?

Wooyoung : yes because you don't deserve someone like me.

Nabi : who are you to decide who I deserve, huh?

Wooyoung : nabi-ya, everyone hates me. I can never get back my career if it goes this way, I can never do the one thing I want to do in my life and the one thing I've worked so fucking hard to do. They took my entire life away from me nabi, I can't live this way.

Nabi : I told you I would solve it for you wooyoung, didn't I?

Wooyoung : what can you do? You can't rewind time bibi. It already hurts too much.

Nabi's eyes fell on the cut in wooyoung's arm, the blood now staining nabi's suit. Nabi held wooyoung's wounded arm as he flinched in pain

Nabi : does this hurt less?

Wooyoung : anything hurts less than what I feel inside nabi.

Nabi let out a breath and grabbed the blood stained knife lying next to her, bringing it close to her arm as wooyoung's eyes widened

Nabi : then this should hurt less too, shouldn't it?

Wooyoung quickly grabbed the knife and looked at nabi with fear filled eyes

Wooyoung : no. no, no no no no nabi let go of this.

Nabi : why? Why should I? if you're going to kill yourself, let's do it together, hmm?

Wooyoung tugged at the knife, tears falling freely as his lips trembled

Wooyoung : no please. Please, please nabi no stop.

Wooyoung’s breathing got heavy, fear filling him. Nabi threw the knife harshly away from them as it crashed against the glass wall, creating a small crack at the edge making wooyoung flinch from the sound.

Nabi : so you get hurt when I try to do the same thing you did to yourself while I was away and then expect me to be fine with you hurting yourself? What sense does that make jung wooyoung?

Wooyoung sobbed as he shook his head

Wooyoung : I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm so sorry I promise I won't ever do that again.

Nabi : no you won't. because if you do I'm burning this entire country down.

Nabi hugged wooyoung as he cried, wrapping his arms around her and leaning against her shoulder. Nabi kissed the top of wooyoung's head as she held him close to her and whispered

Nabi : you're my entire world, woo. Don't destroy it, don't destroy me.

Wooyoung : I'm so sorry, I'm sorry for everything. You shouldn't have to go through any of this because of me.

Nabi : don't be sorry woo, I could go through anything for you happily.

Wooyoung sniffed and snuggled against nabi, wishing he would never have to move from this position.

Nabi : wooyoung-ah.

Wooyoung : yeah?

Nabi : don't worry about se-hyun-shi. He loves another woman, a woman that isn't me. And most importantly, I love another man. A man who isn't park se-hyun. The both of us? We'll only ever be bestfriends, always.

Wooyoung : I was never doubting you bibi. I just…I felt worthless compared to him. I just think you deserve better than all…this.

Nabi : this? Wooyoung, we built all this, we built this for ourselves and I would never continue being with you if you didn't make me happy. You make me the happiest woman in the world woo, no one could do that for me. Not even park se-hyun.

Wooyoung : even then.

Nabi : do you wanna know why I would prefer you over any one else in the world, including myself? Because everything about you makes me go crazy. You cooking for me even when you have crazy schedules because that's how you like to show your care and love for me. Every single time you tie my hair after I'm asleep when I forget to do so because you know I hate sleeping with my hair open. Every single time you have held me close to you when my company stocks fell down, and every word of strength you have given me that built me as who I am today. Wooyoung, without you, yoon nabi wouldn't exist. None of this, would exist.

Wooyoung cried even harder, hugging nabi tighter, not caring about how the wound in his hand was hurting from giving pressure on the wound like this.

Wooyoung : I love you so much, don't ever leave me.

Nabi : I wouldn't dare.

Wooyoung sniffed as nabi pulled back from the hug and held wooyoung's wounded arm before looking at it

Nabi : but this? This was wrong wooyoung, very wrong of you.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together and said in a small voice

Wooyoung : I know, I'm sorry.

Nabi : self-harming is bad for you woo, it will never do you any good. Making scars on your body will never make anything better. The comfort that you would receive from this pain, it will never be eternal. And more importantly, it's going to hurt the people who love you, bub. Not just me, your eomma and appa. What would they feel if they ever see this scar you made on your skin, hmm?

Wooyoung lowered his face, tears filling his eyes. Nabi held wooyoung's face and lifted it to face her, connecting their foreheads as she closed her eyes and whispered softly

Nabi : don't ever do that again, do you promise?

He was never planning to. After seeing what something like this does to nabi, wooyoung couldn’t even think of doing this again. Wooyoung smiled softly and hummed

Wooyoung : I promise.

Nabi smiled and kissed wooyoung, tangling her fingers in his dark curls as wooyoung wrapped his arm around her waist. Nabi's phone suddenly started ringing, making wooyoung let out an annoyed hum as he rested his forehead on nabi's shoulder. Nabi chuckled and rested her one hand on wooyoung's nape before picking up her phone and accepting the call from hongjoong

Nabi : oppa?

Hongjoong : wooyoung's with you, right?

Nabi leaned her head against the side of wooyoung's head before answering

Nabi : yeah, yes. Why?

Hongjoong : I had tried calling him but he didn't pick up, so.

Nabi frowned and reached for wooyoung's phone lying next to them before trying to switch it on as she realized it had switched off due to low battery. She sighed and said

Nabi : it's dead oppa, that's why.

Hongjoong : oh alright. Well! I had called him to let him know that his scandal is finally fucking over.

Nabi froze, happiness filling her.

Nabi : what?

Hongjoong chuckled over the line and said

Hongjoong : he's been proven innocent, nabi-ya. Everyone's taking it all back.

A huge smile spread on nabi's face as she whispered

Nabi : really?

Hongjoong : mhmm, it's all going to be better now.

Nabi : oh god, thank you so much joong.

Hongjoong : ay, that's not required. You're the one who told us to try the other method, and it finally worked. If anything, thank you for taking such good care of my boy nabi-ya.

Nabi chuckled as hongjoong hummed and said

Hongjoong : tell wooyoung-ie that we'll come to meet him within a few hours, okay?

Nabi : yup, I will. Bye.

Hongjoong : bye~

Nabi smiled and cut the call before keeping her phone away. Wooyoung mumbled into her shoulders

Wooyoung : am I thrown out of the company?

Nabi frowned

Nabi : why the hell would I be happy over that, woo?

Wooyoung smiled and whispered

Wooyoung : because then you'd get me all for yourself?

Nabi : I don't want you all to myself if that means destroying your dreams.

Wooyoung : well, it's all gone now, isn't it?

Nabi : it's not, you've been proven innocent wooyoung.

Wooyoung suddenly pulled back, looking at nabi with huge wide eyes

Wooyoung : what?

Nabi chuckled and cupped wooyoung's cheeks before whispering

Nabi : you're back to being Ateez's Jung Wooyoung now.

Wooyoung laughed that beautiful laugh of his before crashing into nabi's arms, hugging her as tight as possible. Nabi chuckled before wrapping her arms around his neck, smiling in content. This was what she always wanted to see, a happy wooyoung who got to do what he did best, being an idol.

________________

#jung wooyoung #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung ff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung angst #jung wooyoung fluff #ateez ff #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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roomsofangel · 17 hours

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LOVER, PLEASE STAY

chapter four

synopsis you and wooyoung have been best friends for as long as you could remember, always overcoming everything in your friendship even after a few bumps in the road and confessions in the past. you could always trust that no matter wooyoung will always be there, right?

wc 4.3k

chapter warnings mentions of drug usage, wooyoung and yn have an argument / wooyoung breaks down

a/n the fact i update this either everyday or every other day… but hope you guys dont mind </3 the next update will be a little slower due to work and trying to bag these ateez tickets with my partner 🙁

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ♥️

“something’s wrong with wooyoung," san mentioned one morning while handing you a dish from beside you that you started washing. you shifted your gaze away from the sink and water and towards him as he leaned against the counter. his side pressed on it a bit more as he continued, "i don't know... but, you notice it, too. don’t you?" his breath came out in an exasperated exhale as he waited for your response.

you gazed down, wanting nothing more than to just focus on how the warm water poured on your hands. the moment was quiet for a few minutes, and your mind raced with all kinds of thoughts. the uncertainty, the silence, and the tension between you and wooyoung recently that was becoming more apparent with every passing day. the strain was starting to wear on you, and that was obvious to everyone around you. “it’s hard not to.” you finally answered after a few minutes of silence, and your voice was solemn and tired.

san frowned at your response, and his expression became more concerned. you could sense the distress in his voice. "do you think we should intervene? what if he ends up like—?“ he started to say, but you interrupted him.

"don't." you said, and your tone was firm. you knew what he was going to say, and you didn't want to hear or think about it. your mind was already spiraling enough, and you didn't need him adding more to it.

san remained silent, looking at you with a mixture of concern and confusion. "but what if..." he began to say but stopped himself, realizing that you already knew. you had already considered that possibility, and it was not something you wanted to think about any further.

“just drop it, okay?" you said, your voice more firm than before as you tried to stop the spiral of thought that was quickly starting to take hold.

san sighed, and the silence that followed weighed heavier than before. "i talked to seonghwa too, you know," he mention. the statement felt somewhat out of place and sudden, and it only added to the tension that surrounded you both. you could sense the strain and stress building up in his words, and you wondered what else he knew or had heard.

"he's worried," san continued, "and so are the rest... they know something's up too. all of them do. but if they ask me, i don't know if i should tell them or not. i mean, it's wooyoung’s own business. i can't just let the secret slip, but.." his voice trailed off, and he let out a long, tired exhale.

"...that’s exactly the problem," san continued, "it’s his own business, but we're all worried about him. i mean, he hasn't been himself for a while now. he’s more reserved, more distant, and there is this strange tension between him and the rest of us. like he's hiding something, or he's just... not there. not fully there."

when you finally became aware of your grip on the dish, the dishes in front of you had already become clean. you were so lost in your thoughts, your head overflowing with memories and worries, that you had failed to notice the mundane task you were supposed to be doing. "i know.." you whispered, because you did. and it pained you that you couldn’t do anything but watch wooyoung destroy himself, or at least that's what it felt like.

"and... and it hurts," you continued softly, as if the admission was too painful for you to keep silent any longer. "it hurts to see him like this, to see him become something... someone that he's not. to see him shut himself off from all of us, to close himself in his own world and not let anyone else in. it’s painful and exhausting."

"he’s like a shell of himself," you went on. "i mean, he's still wooyoung, but... he's not at the same time. and i know i shouldn't say this... but it feels like we've lost him. like the wooyoung we all knew is gone, and there's just... this shell of a person left."

san nodded as he listened to you. he saw the pain and worry in your eyes, and he knew that you needed reassurance. so he held his arms out for you, inviting a hug. "it’s gonna be okay," he tried to reassure the both of you, but he didn't seem so sure himself. it was clear from his tone that he was just as worried, just as unsure. but he needed to remain strong, he needed to believe that things would work out. after all, it had to.

you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling and reminiscing over memories. they were just that, memories. it felt like ages ago, it felt like a whole different world. you were weeping over someone who was still alive, and it made no sense. how did you mourn for someone who was still standing in front of you, with a heart still beating? with a breath still being taken at regular intervals? with thoughts that were still running through their head, and feelings that were still taking place in their veins?

you tried to ignore the tears that were threatening to pour at any moment. everything in your room was a reminder of wooyoung and who he used to be. you could see him across the hall in his own bedroom, but...was that really still him? his demeanor seemed to have changed so dramatically that it no longer resembled the person you fell in love with initially. he was becoming someone else, someone you didn't recognize. and you didn't know if you could handle it anymore.

hearing your phone buzz, you shifted to your side to grab it and take a look. it was hongjoong’s text, asking if you wanted to come to see a movie with him and seonghwa. you recalled the last time you spoke with him, and remembered the intensity of the conversation. sure, he was deeply worried about you and was telling you things you needed to hear that night. but it only made you want to hide more since it meant you had to acknowledge more that you and wooyoung were no longer the same.

you wanted to continue living in the blissful bubble you had created where the two of you were fine, and nothing had changed. but the more time you spent in that space, the more the realities of the situation began to sink in, and the more the cracks in your bubble started to appear. so you avoided talking about the truth for as long as you could, until it got to the point where you could no longer deny it.

“that��s your problem, yn!” hongjoong looked at you with a concerned expression as he stood in front of you with san and seonghwa who matched the same energy. they had seen the situation unfold before enough times to know better than to intervene or get in the way when hongjoong was like this.

as he continued, he spoke louder, like he was trying to get through to you. "you give yourself away to people who keep shoving those parts of you back into your hands," he ranted, becoming more frustrated with each word.

you looked at him with teary eyes, knowing the truth but not wanting to face it. “i know this isn’t what you want to hear but you need to hear this, yn. because i don’t know if you know this but putting a light inside the house your soul died in will not stop it from haunting you.” hongjoong looked at you and his words hit deeper than you expected

"you need to let that light go," he continued, his voice becoming even more impassioned. "you need to let go of the pain, the anger, the sadness, and the guilt that you've held onto for so long. you need to come to terms with the fact that the house is empty, the light is gone, and it is time for you to move on."

when you stopped denying the truth, you began to see things clearer. hongjoong was right, you knew. "you need to let that light go," he had said, but the light he was referring to wasn't a literal one. it was... wooyoung. your best friend was the light you needed to let go of, to come to terms with the fact that it was gone and that you would never get it back.

"you’ve been hiding behind it for too long, too scared to let go," hongjoong persisted, "because if you let go, you would have to face the darkness that has clouded your mind, the feelings that you've been avoiding and refusing to acknowledge. it will be painful, it will be difficult. but it's the only way for you to truly heal."

you remained frozen in silence as hongjoong continued to speak, his words hitting home and piercing you with a truth that you had been actively avoiding. he was right, everything he said was true.

"hongjoong, that's enough," seonghwa’s gentle voice cut through the tension, calling for the confrontation to end. you glanced up and saw his reassuring hand placed gently on hongjoong’s shoulder.

"she’s dealt with enough," he continued. "she doesn't need to hear more, nor does she need to listen to any more harsh words."

as you spoke, your voice became thick, choked by the lump in your throat. "i just... don't want him to think i gave up on him."

"i don't want wooyoung to think i didn't give it my all..." your voice trailed off as you began to choke up. "but i..." you stopped, unable to continue as your tears continued to flow. "i just," you sighed, "i can't give up on him."

your voice cracked with every breath you took, and the tears continued to flow as the pain of realizing how impossible the situation had gotten began to sink in. "i know... i won't... give up on him," you whispered through your sniffles, your throat tight and your heart heavy.

later that night, you were cleaning up around the living space when you saw wooyoung stumbling in, clearly just waking up. you spoke softly to show that you knew he was there, and he grumbled in response. you exchanged a glance with him, noticing his disheveled appearance, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"are you alright?" you asked softly, his response was a grunt, followed by another grunt as he proceeded toward his room without a word. you followed him with your eyes, feeling guilty for asking him anything at all.

you watched as he stumbled back into his room, and a pang of guilt stabbed your heart. you knew he was going through a difficult time, and here you were asking him if he was okay. of course, he wasn't. and you knew that. but what else could you have done? you wanted to speak with him, to see him, to try and be there for him. but he didn't want to speak with you.

after he went into his room, you slowly continued cleaning up the shared space. you couldn't quite bring yourself to go to bed yet, even though you were exhausted. you took care to make sure things were as tidy and clean as they could be, despite the mess that was in your mind. your heart continued to ache with guilt and sadness for your best friend, and you wondered if there was anything you could have done to help him.

you decided to try one more time, gathering your courage and taking your time to slice his favorite fruits like you always did in the past when he was sad. you made your way into his dark room and saw that it was a mess, but you ignored the clutter and scattered clothing. you simply placed the plate of fruit on his bedside table and made a quiet retreat, just leaving the plate of fruit with him and not trying to talk to him again.

as you prepared to exit the room, your eyes scanned the entire space. your heart skipped a beat as your gaze landed on the small ziplock baggie in the corner. you tried to ignore it and pretend as if your mind was playing tricks on you. but you knew that it was real. you saw the tiny powder-like stains beneath the baggies, and you knew that it was more than just a reflection of the light.

you couldn't ignore the small pile of bags on the nightstand. instead, you found your eyes drawn to them, watching the glint of light off the powder-like stains beneath them. you knew what this was, and a chill ran down your spine as you finally accepted the truth. wooyoung's struggles were evident in the things he kept so hidden from you, the substance he kept close by.

it suddenly became very clear to you why wooyoung had been acting the way he had lately. his secretive behavior, the late nights, the withdrawn attitude. everything made sense now.

the truth hit you like a wave of ice-cold water. wooyoung had been using drugs. you had been blind to the signs and the warnings, but this was the confirmation you had been avoiding. and now, you couldn't avoid the reality anymore.

the shock slowly turned into sadness, like a weight settling in your stomach as you stood there, staring at the baggie of drugs on his nightstand. you were numb, frozen on the spot as you processed this revelation. wooyoung had always been so responsible, so sensible, so protective of you. never in a million years would you have imagined him turning to drugs to cope with his problems.

as you were about to leave the room, you were caught off guard by the sudden sound of wooyoung's voice. "you're... not supposed to see those," he rasped out, sounding exhausted and annoyed. you jumped a little at the sudden sound and his harsh tone, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed even though you knew you had every right to go into his room.

he sighed and sat up slowly, the mattress squeaking beneath his movement. "they’re just for me," wooyoung said in a low voice, his tone turning defensive. "they... they help me... cope," he continued, his voice trailing off at the end as he looked away from you. you noticed how he avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the floor below.

wooyoung’s words hung heavy in the air. they were clearly a crutch for him, helping him to cope with the pressures of life. but it was clear that they did little more than numb him. you watched as his eyes darted around the room as if he was nervous about something. his eyes flitted between the zipper bags on his nightstand, and he seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself.

the tension in the air was palpable, and you could sense the heaviness in his breath. you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what he wanted to say but couldn't.

“i can't let you keep destroying yourself, woo”, you said, your voice soft and compassionate. you didn't want to lecture him, you just tried your best to help him see the harm he was doing to himself. but he resisted your words, pushing back with his own defensiveness.

"please, just... let me have this," wooyoung said, a sharp edge to his tone. "don’t try and take this away from me, don't try and protect me. i’m fine, really. i can handle this," he snapped, his tone growing more frustrated. he didn't want you to interfere, didn't want you to try and protect him. he wanted to handle it on his own.

as you watched him, your heart broke even further. he wasn't fine, he wasn't handling it, he was using drugs to cope with his pain. and you were afraid of what would happen if he continued this way. wooyoung's eyes met yours, sharp with his anger, as he continued to resist your words. "don’t you trust me?" he said, suddenly looking more fragile than before.

"don’t you dare say that." you glared at him, feeling your anger rising as you struggled to control yourself. "you know i trust you, but i don't trust that..." you gestured to the baggies on his nightstand, your words heavy in the air. you could feel his defensiveness intensifying, a wall of bitterness rising as he felt he was being accused.

"you’re going to preach to me now, aren't you?" wooyoung glared at you, his frustration clear in his words. "tell me all about how drugs are bad, how they hurt our bodies, how they damage our brains, how they can't fill the void inside of us... is that what you're gonna say?"

wooyoung's glare was intense, his words dripping with hostility as he began to lash out. he knew how he used drugs to cope had been irresponsible and harmful, but he didn't want to be lectured about it. he felt defensive and angry, and he was not going to back down from this argument.

"so you just go right ahead and pretend as if it's not a problem." wooyoung continued, his frustration growing as he glared at you. "you know damn well that they help me cope, that they fill the void i feel inside of me. they make me feel numb, but at least i don't feel anything at all when i’m like this. so just let me have this, and stop trying to interfere."

you could feel your shoulders shaking, your eyes growing damp with tears as you looked at him. "what the hell happened to you, wooyoung?" you choked out the question, your throat clogging with emotion as you struggled to hold it together. you wanted to understand... you wanted to help him.

you saw his expression harden even further as he looked at you, his eyes no longer filled with anger, but rather something closer to contempt. as you choked back your tears, you realized that he seemed to think you were being dramatic. he didn't see the severity of his situation, didn't want to acknowledge that he was falling apart in front of you. your throat tightened as your eyes burned from the fight and the tears that were starting to fall.

you felt something growing inside of you as he stared at you with contempt. anger? hurt? you were feeling these emotions clash with one another as your eyes blurred with moisture. you wanted to yell that you cared about him, that you were just trying to help... but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. instead, you stayed silent, trying to hold back your sobs. it was like he didn't trust you anymore.

"oh... you're crying now, are you?" wooyoung said, his tone cutting and cold. "so you really do enjoy drama then, don't you? you want to try and make me feel worse than i already do, huh? well, you're not going to succeed, so save your tears for someone who cares."

his words stung, hitting everything that was vulnerable and painful inside you. you knew he knew what to say, which string he needed to tug on in order to hurt you the most. you tried to speak, but your voice shook and came out in a whisper. "stop." you tried to be stern, to defend yourself, but you knew that your defenses were crumbling away.

wooyoung smirked at you, and you wanted to slap him for the cruel way he was behaving. he seemed to be taking pleasure in the way he was hurting you, in the way he was tearing you down. he wasn't even hiding the fact that he knew exactly how to bring you down and tear you apart. he seemed to be enjoying it.

there was no holding back now, no restraint. your voice shot up in volume even as you tried to bite it back. "what have i ever done to you?" you looked at him, your eyes burning and your heart racing wildly. "what the hell have i done to deserve this?"

wooyoung stared at you, his eyes narrowing. he seemed to be considering the weight of your words, trying to decide if he wanted to answer honestly. after a moment, he seemed to just decide to be blunt with you. "you’ve never done anything to me," he finally replied simply.

"that's the thing," wooyoung said, his attitude finally starting to soften. "you haven't done a damn thing to me." he had finally stopped fighting back, and his tone had changed from one of anger and aggression to one that was just... tired.

"you’ve just... been there. being my friend. caring for me.. loving me." wooyoung’s voice cracked at the last word, and he seemed to be trying to control himself from breaking down.

"and what do you get out of it?" he took a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. "me falling apart on drugs, making you cry, treating you like crap? is that what you deserve from your friend?"

he quickly cut you off when you began to open your mouth, stopping you from making any excuses for him. "don’t you start with the whole excuses for me, yn," he said. his tone was harsh, like a snapping order. he seemed to be trying to hold on to the last shred of his composure.

"please." his voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes suddenly filled with pain and sorrow. you could see the pain of his life finally coming to surface... the sadness and hopelessness that had been buried under the drugs and the denial finally coming back to haunt him.

he was so vulnerable, so fragile in this moment, and you couldn't help but feel heartbroken for him. the thought of him hurting like this, of him being so miserable and lost and alone, all because of the drugs and the denial, was unbearable. you wanted to reach out and comfort him, to hold him close and wipe away his pain, but you didn't know how.

"i know i’m not perfect, i know i’ve done things... i’ve hurt you..." wooyoung’s voice cracked and he paused, trying to collect himself. "i just... i’m so tired. i’m so tired of fighting, of trying to keep things together, of being in pain..."

he looked at you, and his eyes were filled with raw emotion.

"i don't want to give up on us," he continued. "you’ve been here for me... through everything... please don't give up on me."

wooyoung seemed to be opening up to you again, letting his walls down and showing you the real him. the one who was tired, scared, and scared of losing you. the one who was afraid of being alone. he looked at you, begging you to stay with him, not to give up on him like everyone else. he needed you.

“i can’t give up on you even if i tried,” your voice was quiet as you spoke this to him

"i know you can't give up on me, but i just don't know if i can... keep on like this." he seemed so miserable and exhausted, like he was on the brink of collapse. "i’m so tired," he continued, his voice shaking. "so tired of all the stress and anxiety and the fear of what's to come... i just..."

he paused again, as if trying to find the words to say all the things he was feeling. "i just don't have the strength to do this anymore," he finally admitted. "i’m tired of carrying all this weight on my shoulders, of pretending like everything is okay, when it's not... i’m just... i’m so fucking tired."

the words were pouring out of him, as if he had been holding them inside for a long time. the exhaustion and the pain, the weight and the worry, the fear and the grief... it was all finally coming out. his voice cracked, and he seemed to be fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

wooyoung broke down finally, sobbing as his arms tremblingly folded around his torso. his body was racked with a mixture of sadness and pain, as he let the weight of his emotions finally take over. "i don't want to drag you down with me," he said, his voice trembling. "but i’m so damn selfish. you see, i’m so selfish that..." his words were beginning to be muffled, and he seemed to be struggling to continue.

"i don't want to lose you," he suddenly mumbled, his cheeks soaked with tears. "i’m so selfish that i don't want to let you go, that i keep dragging you down with me even though i know it's destroying you too... i know it's wrong, i know it's so damn selfish, but i can't let go..."

wooyoung was crying hard, openly and unapologetically. he was a mess of emotion, of hurt and fear and sorrow and pain. he didn't like the way he was hurting you, but he didn't know how to stop. he was stuck in this cycle of self-destruction, and he couldn't see a way out.

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taglist @special4u @vampzity @jwone @dulceeed @fantasy2wonderland @fixedonlove

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choism · 1 year

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Of Course | j.wy

Wooyoung x Transmasc!Reader; Featuring Genderqueer!Best Friend!Hongjoong

Genre: Friends To Lovers, Hurt Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: penetration, unprotected sex, squirting, cunnilingus, hurt with lots of comfort, themes of gender dysphoria, themes of bullying, lots of insecurities, reader uses they/he pronouns, Hongjoong uses they/them pronouns, Wooyoung is a gay man with an open heart

You can find the woosan version of this fic here! [Not out yet]

A/N: Sorry I delayed it so long but since this is not only a very sensitive topic for some but it is a topic very close to my heart so I wanted this fic to be perfect. I myself struggle with lot's of gender dysphoria and sometimes the way I cope is by reading trans coded or straight up trans!idol/trans!reader smut or fluff and I wanted to really convey how I may feel sometimes in this work. I really hope you all enjoy it and once again, a huge thanks to @wooyoblr for proofreading for me!!

Click here to be added to my taglist!

Tagging: @bunnypig18 @brownieracha @babyhailey819

You’ve never really understood it.

Wooyoung has always boggled your mind. Since meeting him in your freshman year of college, back when you had just begun to discover and explore your identity, he has shown you nothing but kindness. Always understanding, always trying to understand.

Hongjoong had integrated you into the friend group, them really being your first friend who understood how you felt, the turmoil inside.

“Hey everyone, this is y/n, they are my new friend. Make sure to make them feel welcome.” Hongjoong welcomed you in, they had taken you under their wing after catching you having a breakdown outside of Dorm A. They had comforted you as you cried, telling you all the things you wanted to hear after getting into an argument with your roommate about ‘presenting more feminine around her friends’. They understood you on a deeper level.

Wooyoung didn’t, he didn’t understand yet. But he tried to, he wanted to. He was the first to greet you after Hongjoong welcomed you in.

“Hey, I’m Wooyoung! I hope we become close friends.” Wooyoung’s smile seemed to light up the entire room. You had just met him but his presence, his very being, had felt warm and inviting.

Everyone else greeted you the same, but something felt different about Wooyoung from the get go. From then on you hung out with the group. You mostly hung out with Hongjoong outside of the group, them being the most understanding of course, and over time they had become one of your best friends. You relied on them a lot.

You had met Hongjoong in your shared psychology class, as ironic as that is. You had sat next to each other in the full class and on the first day the professor had everyone do an activity, making pronoun and name tag plates to keep for the first week of classes. The pronouns you had decided to write were they/he which had piqued their interest.

“Hey, I’m Hongjoong, what’s your name?” they had asked you, their curiosity shining through their eyes.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” They noticed how shy you seemed and wanted to loosen the air. You peeked at their own name plate which had ‘they/them’ sprawled on it in quite frankly, horrible handwriting. It made you giggle a bit out loud on accident.

“What’s so funny?” They cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smirk quirking at their lips.

“Nothing, it’s just, I can barely read your name tag. What are your pronouns?” You honestly had just wanted to double check. You could read it fine but for some reason you felt like you wanted verbal confirmation, confirmation that you weren’t the only non cis person on campus.

“They/them! I’m genderqueer.” They smiled brightly, the prospect of meeting someone else who doesn’t fit the binary filling their own heart with glee. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your own gender? I noticed you use they/he.” They pointed at your own name tag, decorated in doodles and bold letters.

“Oh I uh, I’m not sure haha, I’m just feeling things out for now,” you replied, slinking back into your chair with just a slight bit of dread. It’s rare that you admit anything out loud, and even rarer to a stranger, but they made you feel comforted.

“That’s fair, we are all figuring our own shit out. I’m glad to have met you y/n.” They held their hand out to shake your own and you took it slowly, a smile spreading across your face.

At the end of the class the two of you exchanged numbers and had texted over the next few days, a close friendship quickly forming. They became the first friend you made that was similar to you, that understood you.

One day, you were caught crying again, this time in the library.

“Hey y/n, what’s wrong?”

You had expected it to be Hongjoong as usual, but you turned around and were greeted with a different but familiar face.

“Wooyoung?” you said between sniffles, digging your head out of your sleeve from laying it down on the table.

“Are you alright? What happened?” His voice was soft, calming. Unlike most who had ever asked if you were okay, his voice held a weight to it that you had only felt from one other person, that person being Hongjoong.

“It’s nothing, really.” You wiped your face of your tears. Wooyoung sat in the chair across from you, looking at you not with sympathy– but of something else. Comfort maybe? To this day you still aren’t sure what it was.

“No, tell me what’s on your mind, I’m here to listen.” His voice dripped in genuine concern and for some reason, it got through your usually tough exterior.

That day, you had told him everything you had told Hongjoong, about what goes through your head, why you feel the way you do, and how the people closest to you refuse to accept how you feel and think. He sat there and listened intently. He asked questions but nothing offensive or insulting. He wanted to understand, he wanted to learn.

It felt like the two of you sat and talked for hours, and maybe you had. He made you feel safe, and comfortable. He made you feel wanted, in a different way that Hongjoong had made you feel.

Hongjoong was like you; they knew what it felt like to be confused, to not see yourself correctly when looking in a mirror, but Wooyoung was different. Wooyoung didn’t understand as well, but he wanted to. He would never feel the way you feel when you wake up in skin that doesn’t feel like your own, but he did his best to listen, and comprehend.

Months pass by and the two of you grew close; even the group noticed. “I think Woo has a crush,” Mingi teased.

“I think y/n fell for him first,” Jongho would say.

And before you two had even recognized it, they did. Hongjoong always knew, however.

The day after spilling your heart out to Wooyoung, you had confided in Hongjoong about what happened, feeling a bit scared. “I’ve never been this open with someone cis before,” you had said. After listening intently to the way you spoke about Wooyoung, Hongjoong knew – he just could tell in the way your tone of voice wavered in pitch.

After the joking and teasing, the two of you had finally realized how you felt about each other. One day, while hanging out in your dorm, Wooyoung had confessed. “Y/n, this is gonna sound so stupid…” He trailed off, biting his lip and searching for the right words to say. You were looking at him, fully concentrated on his words. You could predict what he was going to say subconsciously, and it made your heart feel tight.

“What is it, Wooyo?” The nickname made his own heart clench – if it could burn any more than it already was from the buildup, it would be nothing but ashes.

“I was wondering, if– well…” You searched his face for any sign of comfort and after a moment of looking around the room he gathered his confidence and locked onto your eyes, the assurance you needed settling your heart, just the slightest bit. With bated breath, he starts, “Will you go out with me?” He pauses only for a second, his breath hitching as he looks intently into your eyes before he gets nervous and speaks again, “It’s okay if you say no, I mean you don’t have to. I mean I totally get it if–” His words were cut short by your soft lips melding with his gently, just a slight touch if anything.

You pull back as quick as you had kissed him and smiled as wide as your mouth would allow. “Of course I want to go out with you, Youngie.” His own smile grew three times the size of your own, and he leaned forward pressing a more firm kiss onto your mouth.

Wooyoung held your face in his large hands, deepening the kiss before pulling away. “You have no idea how happy I am.”

***

A few years passed and it led you to now, in Wooyoung’s dorm lazily drawing circles on his stomach while he works on some homework. The two of you are laying on his bed, you curled into his side while he types away on his laptop. The soft yellow light from his desk lamp illuminates the both of you, casting a shadow on the wall behind the bed. You look up at his face and admire the curve of his jaw, and the way the light hits his face, showing the perfect sculp of his nose. Sitting here was comforting, but recently your mind slipped again from the long silence.

Why did Wooyoung love you? Why was he with you? What does he have to gain from dating someone who feels masculine, but has the body of a woman? Why would he willingly want to be with someone like you? Wooyoung is a cis gay man, so why in the world would he want to be with someone like you? You don’t have what he wants, and there is a chance that you may never have it. You don’t even realize it, but the thoughts crowding your head made tears prick your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he questions with concern, a thumb swiping at a small tear that fell from your eye.

“What? Oh sorry, it’s nothing, I was just thinking.” You’re lying, of course he could tell that you were lying, and of course he wouldn’t let it slide.

“No, don’t do that.” Wooyoung closes his laptop and sets it on the desk next to his bed, just short of an arms length away. He brings his other hand up to your arm, thumbing over your skin to soothe you. It only makes you aware of what you are. “Tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.” He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows, concern drawing on his face.

Wooyoung has never, and probably will never look at you with a look of pity, or sympathy. He only feels. He feels what you feel, he feels the hurt, the loneliness. He may never understand, but the want, no– the need to understand is enough.

“I just–” you start, and struggle to continue. You sit up on the bed and face him, his arms now in his lap and his eyes focused on your face. Your tears well up a bit more. “Why do you like me?” you ask, another tear slipping from your eye and sliding down your cheek.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow empathetically but he makes no move to reach for you, knowing where you may be going with this. “Sweetheart, why wouldn’t I like you? You give me so many reasons to.”

In the past, this very moment has happened and it’s always been over stupid reasons. You love Wooyoung, but you envy who he is, the way he looks. It’s not a harsh thought, it’s something you think about most people you admire, even strangers, but you can’t help but let the thoughts consume you. The way his body was sculpted, the way his face looks, he is who you want to be. You envied him and Hongjoong, for being so comfortable in their own skins when all you wanted to do was crawl out of your own. It’s a selfish thought.

You look down at the sheets away from his face and suck back your tears. “But I’m not who you want. I’m fucked up, I don’t even know who I am. Why?”

Wooyoung takes the opportunity to finally guide his hand onto your jaw, lifting your head up to look at him. “I love you because you’re you, y/n. Why would I let something so trivial get in the way of how I feel? I don’t care what you look like, I don’t care about what sex you are. You are you, and I love every part of you.” He scoots closer to you, your knees touching as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips, then where your tears fall. “You’re mine,” he says between kisses, trailing down your cheeks, to your jaw, and to your neck. “My beautiful boy.”

The word boy ignites a fire in your heart, and slows the tears.

“I want you, and only you.”

His large hands place themselves just above your knees to ground himself, before he pulls away again. He squeezes the area reassuringly. He gently places short kisses against your neck. Wooyoung’s mouth against your skin makes sparks fly with every touch you feel so grounded, so real underneath him. He makes you feel like you.

“Will you let me have you?”

Another tear drops, but it’s not a sad one. He truly loves you, and you can see it. You spend countless hours worrying about your appearance, your mind, what others think of you. But Wooyoung soothes those worries. He is just what you want, what you need. You may forget from time to time but deep down you know, and you just need to be reminded.

“Of course.”

Both pairs of lips find each other once again, heat bubbling beneath the surface of the heavy kiss. Wooyoung melts into you with every breath, every touch, and you melt into him just the same. The two of you become one as your passion grows. You climb into his lap and grind down slightly, throwing your arms around his neck to ground yourself.

Wooyoung grinds up into you and meets your rhythm, his cock steadily growing harder from the heavy air now surrounding the both of you. You slide your tongue into his mouth languidly, taking the time to explore it like it was your first time. But with Wooyoung, everything felt like your first time.

He made you feel so different from what anybody else had ever made you feel.

As Wooyoung grinds up into your center with more force you let out short breathy moans. His half hard cock is enough to get you aroused and feel the fire grow in your abdomen. You tug at his shirt lightly, “Wooyoung, clothes, please.” You climb off of his lap and start to undress yourself. Every time you have been intimate with Wooyoung, you never felt like you had to pretend to be someone else. You never felt like a woman, or a man. All you felt was Wooyoung.

Being intimate with him was so natural that you never thought about anything but the way he made you feel, and you didn’t feel like you had to pretend with him, you could just be you.

The both of you undress quickly and you lay back against his bed, Wooyoung crawling between your legs and up to your face, placing butterflies kisses along your jaw until he gets to your neck. He suckles on your neck leaving small hickeys and bruises trailing to your collarbone, making sure to avoid your chest.

“Can I eat you out?” he asks gently, taking extra care to circle his thumbs on your inner thighs as he kisses your belly lightly.

“Yes, god please, Wooyoung,” you breathe out and reach to rake your hand through his hair.

He looks up at you with shimmering eyes, lust and arousal swirling in them and you swear you could cum right then and there. He dips down into your hole and places experimental kitten licks along your folds, dipping his tongue inside of you every now and then just to get a better taste. “So good for me,” he says, breathless. “Tastes so good, my good boy.” The pet name causes you to moan loudly and you really hope Jongho hadn’t come back to the dorm yet or he totally would have heard that.

Wooyoung swirls his tongue up to your clit, already hard and throbbing lightly in anticipation. He sucks lightly on it, switching between that motion and kisses when he brings his fingers up to your hole, inserting one just up to the first knuckle. Your moans seem to be neverending as you feel your orgasm build quickly. You feel your muscles tighten and contract, preparing for your impending high. He inserts another finger and scissors them to stretch you out a bit, before curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. He mouths at your bud with more force as he can tell you're close.

Your grip on his hair tightens when he moves his fingers at a much faster pace and it becomes clear what he is trying to do. His fingers fuck upwards, hitting your spot over and over. Your moans grow even louder when you feel a white hot sensation heat the area on and around your clit. It isn’t long before you feel a wetness rush through, your orgasm hitting strong as your juices cover Wooyoung’s mouth, squirting all over his face and the sheets below. He drinks it all up as he continues to lap at your clit and finger you. The way he mouths at your center sends shiver up and down your spine. He had always been amazing at oral, eating you out like a fresh fruit he couldn’t get enough of.

“Tastes so good.” He cleans you up as you come down from your first high. “So good for me, sweetheart, so pretty.” He leans up and kisses you, his mouth still coated in your cum and juices. “Want me to fuck your hole now?”

You whimper in response, pressing your legs together but his own strong legs blocking the way. Wooyoung is leaning against you fully, his cock teasing your pussy as he ruts forward.

“No, I need a response sweetheart.” His mouth latches onto your neck, wet kisses covering your bruises.

“Please Youngie, I need you to fuck me. I’m such a good boy please.”

He groans loudly at you using your own pet name. “Okay, I’ll fuck you, such a good boy.” He lines up his cock with your entrance and pushes in with no resistance, the mixture of cum and squirt being enough to lube up the both of you. Wooyoung was average sized but had enough girth and veins to make up for it. He always filled you so well, up to the brim. It’s like his cock was made for you. “Fuck, so tight, so good.” he moans, bottoming out and letting you adjust.

“Mm, so full Youngie, please move,” you whimper beneath his touch.

Once you adjusted to his size, he started to thrust slowly, taking in the way you clench with every thrust, and the beautiful sounds that tumble from your mouth when he hits the right spot. “So pretty, all mine.” He picks up his pace slowly, lifting your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle to hit deeper. You're seeing stars with every thrust of his hips, the feeling of his balls slapping into you making him feel so real, making you feel grounded.

He starts pounding into you with time, feeling his orgasm build as he fucks relentlessly. “Wooyoungie, so good don’t stop,” you moan loudly. You didn’t think anything could be better than this. “Fuck, love you so much,” you practically yell. You’re feeling so much, so much of him. You feel all of him. It’s overwhelming almost, the way you feel when with him, when he touches you. Your hand is resting next to your head and he takes the opportunity to lock his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly as if a small reassurance. You can feel the familiar heat in your abdomen build once again and you squirt a few times before your final orgasm washes over you.

Wooyoung feels himself just as close, so on edge. “Fuck, let me fill you up, wanna be full? Does my good boy want me to fill him up?” He buries his neck into your shoulder.

“Yes, make me yours.”

With a few final thrusts he empties inside of you, rope after rope of cum coating your walls and filling you up perfectly. “Love you, fucking love you so much. You’re mine.” His hips still and you both breathe heavily. He leans up from your shoulder and places a soft kiss onto your lips. “Who’s are you?” he asks softly, running his free hand through your hair and squeezing your clasped hands reassuringly.

“I’m yours, only yours.” You kiss his forehead as he pulls out, his cum dripping out of your hole and down your taint onto the sheets. You clench a bit at the feeling of emptiness. He places a kiss on top of your forehead.

“Am I really?” This time, he asks you and looks at you with that same look he gave you a few years ago, back when you had opened up to him for the first time. You feel you heart swell with warmth and comfort.

“Of course.”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #transmasc reader #transmasc smut #trans reader #trans smut #genderqueer hongjoong #tw gender dysphoria #tw hurt #tw angst

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snwusberry · 2 years

Text

untitled

pairing: est. wooyoung x fem reader

genre: angst (?), fluff

word count: somewhere in the thousands

warning(s): lowkey, if not, highkey bullying, is there language? disney villan type tea

note: this was actually taken from an smau hens, the reader bring female. my apologies

| Y/N |

i was literally just minding my own business, trying to live my best life when a witch. a witch who's presence is draining to whoever is around her. her aura is negative and she goes around spreading it like a disease.

i ignore her, the music on my headphones to block her out which she clearly hates. she just has to have my attention.

she snaps her fingers in front of me which makes me roll my eyes and give my precious attention to her.

"what do you want?" i flat out ask. no life in my voice whatsoever which makes her roll her eyes.

"so hostile." she holds her chest in fake sadness. "can't we put the past behind us? i'm trying to be civil"

i loudly scoff, damn near laughing. she can't be serious.

"yeah well i'm not. leave me alone."

"always so bitter. i still wonder what wooyoung saw in you. you're always so negative, it's draining." she slyly comments in an overly dramatic way.

what did this bitch say? excuse me but as far as i'm concerned i'm not the one who threw their best friend down the stairs and landing them in the ER over a guy, but sure, i'm the negative one?

"are you done harassing me? i'd like to go on with my life." i deadpan.

i honestly don't even know why i'm still entertaining this clownery. she's been at it for like 3 weeks now.

"don't you feel any type of guilt? none whatsoever?"

my face twists into a confused expression because i truly don't know what she's going on about.

"what?"

"don't act confused. you knew all along how i felt for wooyoung yet you still went ahead and accepted his advances. how could you do that to your own friend?" see this is what we're not gonna do.

she never once mentioned having a crush on wooyoung. she never told me anything and if she thinks i was supposed to pick up on her hints then she's gone mad. i'm no mind reader so i had no clue.

"i don't have time for this today" i stand up and attempt to walk away when she runs her big mouth again

"it's funny. how low are his standards that you're the one he fell for? you're just not right for him."

i turn around slowly to face her. no way she just said that. first of all, who even talks like that? it's ridiculous.

"what did you say?"

"you don't deserve to be in a relationship with him. he's too good for you. i mean, how could someone like him be wuth something like you."

i look at her baffled. something? how was i friends with someone so... shallow?

"and who deserves to be with him? you?"

"yes! see, you get it. you're not right for him."

i scoff at her words, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "get it together. at the end of the day you're not the one he liked. i can't control who he has feelings for so hop off my case please."

"i bet you don't even like him. you only said you reciprocated his feelings to get to me because you're jealous of me."

hmm, childish AND deluded. that's not cute in the slightest bit actually.

"me? jealous of you?" she nods. "your head is so far up your own ass that you even started talking shit. why would i be jealous of someone who's so ready to throw away their friendship over a guy? a guy i told him i like him because that's how i felt. not to spite you, not to get at you, none of that. the world doesn't revolve around you and things won't always go your way. you're so delusional to even think that way. "

"can't you see that you're being so unfair? you're such a backstabber, you deserved what happened to you. if you had a conscience then you'd break up with him."

i shut my eyes really tight to try and hold myself back from getting violent because one more word, i'm gonna swing.

"have a good day" i simply tell her and try to walk away again.

"i'm not gonna back down without a fight."

the complete and itter bullshit im hearing right now.

"goodluck with that because you're fighting alone. so again, have a good day." i finally get the chance to walk away.

who does she even think she is? calling me all that? i think not. i got better things to worry about. got me messed all the way up, absolutely not.

i sit down under a tree and quickly send wooyoung a text before it starts raining.

just my luck.

i hear the crunchy sound of shoes on the pebbled ground behind me but i don't flinch or look back, i just keep my eyes trained on a bald spot in the grass like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"baby?" his voice immediately brings the slightest tears in my eyes. i haven't gotten to talk to him in what feels like forever because we've both been so busy so the sound of his voice brings me unimaginable comfort.

curse me for being a weak ass bitch. i need to stand up for real.

"why are you out alone in the cold?"

"i love the cold. see, i'm thr-thiving." ew why did i stutter like that? i'm not doing this, sorry.

"come on. let's take you home." he offers me his hand to help me stand up, completely ignoring my previous words and weak voice.

"i'm good right here you go without me" my voice got shaky i don't know if it's because i'm trying not to cry or if i'm shivering from the cold.

he just sighs and stands there a little longer, the only sound being from the rain pattering softly on the ground and a bit louder on the umbrella wooyoung is holding.

"okay then." he then sits down right next to me on the wet grass he closes his umbrella and he just sits with me in the rain which makes me slightly panic.

"what are you doing? you're gonna catch a cold."

"well you refuse to let me take you home and i'm not leaving you here alone. so i guess we'll both get sick since you wanna be so stubborn." his voice comes out so stern but i can't help but smile at his words. he's way too selfless for his own good.

"stop being such a sweet person, people will take advantage of you." i murmur, looking at the grass again and bringing my knees closer to my chest in attempt to get sone sort of warmth.

he just laughs and looks at me but his face quickly changes to that of worry when he hears me sniffle. "you wanna talk about it?"

i just look at him and scoff, trying to brush it off. "what makes you think anything is wrong?"

"your eyes are bloodshot with tears streaming down your face while you sit under a tree in the dirt as it rains."

"okay maybe something is wrong."

"well?"

i guess i should tell him. i can't pretend everything is okay, especially not with him. hell call me out on my bullshit.

"aria. she..." i let out a much needed breath before continuing. "...she told me that i don't deserve to be your girlfriend. she mocked me, told me i'm not good enough and that you'd be better off with her. she said it doesn't make sense for someone like you to be with something like me. that's not even the worst part she said i deserved being pushed down those steep ass stairs which landed me in hospital due to the fucking trauma my head experienced. oh, she also called me a backstabber for reciprocating your feelings, telling me that i lied about my feelings to spite her, which, i'm not gonna lie, kinda stung. who is she to doubt how i feel about you?" wow, saying really makes me feel pathetic for reacting this way, like why didn't i just ignore her from the get go?

"and it got to you?" he simply asks and i nod my head at his words.

"she's obviously trying to get to you. you did nothing wrong. absolutely nothing. she's trying to get you to rethink our relationship because guess what? she's bitter." he speaks softly and his words make me smile.

"i'm not as naive as she thinks i am. nothing she says will make me rethink anything about us because you're literally the best thing to come into my life."

it's true. spending time with him always makes my day better, hearing his voice always makes me feel better. everything just feels right when he's around and it really makes me see that i'm down horrendous for this man.

"i absolutely adore you. not your appearance. i fell for the person that you are, your looks are just an added bonus. and if she's so vain and thinks that looks are everything then that's her own problem. plus i like my girls a little ugly anyways."

"hey."

there's a second of silence before we both laugh. i know he's joking when he says that. like i know i'm absolutely stunning babes, you don't need to tell me twice. that's not even what got to me because unlike her i'm not shallow and i'm very secure in my looks, you don't even have to worry about me with that one.

i lay my head on his shoulder and he rests his head on mine, wrapping a comforting arm around me and we just sit there in the rain. together like the dramatic people we are.

#jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung angst #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez wooyoung #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #kpop

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hahafixon · 6 months

Text

Bank Robbery ~ *Jung Wooyoung*

Summary: You just need to deposit some checks at the bank. That's all. However, you find yourself in the middle of a bank robbery. Too bad you don't seem to care about the apparent danger you're in.

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung X G/N!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 2063

Warning: Swearing, guns, bullets, arguing, yelling, mentions torture, no one is actually hurt

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me

It was a simple deposit. You had some birthday checks from your extended family that you needed to put in your checking account. You really didn’t want to go to the bank today, preferring to binge watch anime in your pajamas. However you knew if you didn’t do it soon, you never would do it. Besides, it was more money that you could use. Who doesn’t want money?

So you were stuck waiting in line four people deep as the teller assisted an elderly woman with transferring money to her grandkids. Though the gesture was sweet in your opinion, you also were annoyed. You really didn’t want to be here. So you internally prayed that the four people ahead of you would go fast so you could deposit and get out.

But, of course, nothing could be that easy.

“ALRIGHT LISTEN UP!” A man in a mask yelled, getting everyone’s attention as he waves a gun around. “This is a robbery. Hand over everything of value and we’ll let you live.”

Seven other men came in and started taking valuables from everyone. Though you were paralyzed with fear, you couldn’t help but be a little pissed. This was just going to take longer! It seemed the universe was conspiring against you so that you wouldn’t go home.

A couple of the men in masks started going down the line of people, gathering the valuables they had on them. The others went behind the counter and started to shake down the employees. You watched carefully as they got closer and closer to you. Before you knew it, there was a gun being waved in your face.

“Be a good hostage and fork over the cash.” He snapped harshly.

Maybe you were tired from a long week at work and now having to come to the bank on your day off. Maybe you were crazy, after seeing this scene play out so many times in movies. Maybe you really did have a death wish. Whatever the reason, you found yourself refusing his request.

“No.”

This caused almost everything to come to a standstill. The man in front of you lowered the gun slightly in shock, his eyes wide behind his mask.

“D-did you say no?” His stutter wasn’t intentional, that much was obvious. He was trying to keep his composure as the half-baked plan fell around him.

“Yeah, I said no.” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not giving you the money I was given as a gift from my family. Besides, you shouldn’t go around robbing establishments, especially banks, when you don’t have a solid plan to start with. I bet that gun isn’t even loaded!”

Yep, you were definitely crazy.

The man before you shifted from foot to foot uneasily. “Y-yes it is!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course it is!” One of the robbers from behind the counter shouted back at the two of you.

The guy standing next to you nudges your shoulder harshly. “Just give him what he wants! You’re going to get us all killed!”

“He’s right, you know!” The robber behind the counter agreed.

You shook your head. “No, I know I’m right. Tell them! Tell them that the gun isn’t loaded!”

The man in front of you hesitated before he started to whine like a child. “It’s because MG didn’t buy the bullets!”

Well, you actually weren’t one hundred percent sure you were correct when you made that statement, but you were grateful you were.

The man behind the counter who was shouting at you stopped stuffing his bag with money. “What? Are you telling me that none of our guns have ammunition in them?”

A tall robber who was keeping look out turned back to the rest of the group. “Hey! It’s not my fault! WY said he was going to buy them!”

The man before you whipped around and waved the gun in his hand accusingly at the other man. “Me? I never said I was going to buy them! Besides, even if you didn’t get them, YS should have checked the supply stash for more bullets.”

A different robber shrugged nonchalantly. “It wasn’t my week to check the supplies. This week was S’s turn.”

“C’mon! Don’t pin the blame on me! The youngest should be the one who buys all the supplies!”

“Don’t make being young a punishment. You already made the rest of my life hell.”

The sound of bullets clattering to the ground got everyone's attention.

The other man behind the counter had emptied his gun. The other man behind the counter stared for a brief moment before opening his gun to find it empty. You couldn’t stop the smile from growing on your face as realization dawned on you.

“So I’m assuming only one gun was loaded? Tell me they’re the right kind of bullets?”

“Shut up!” The short one behind the counter shouted.

However the other man answered you. “They’re blanks.”

“I can’t believe you guys were dumb enough to rob a bank with blanks!” A laugh escaped you.

You shouldn’t be laughing. This wasn’t supposed to be funny. You were a hostage in a bank robbery. Granted, it was a botched bank robbery, but still. That didn’t mean you were out of the woods yet. However, the whole situation was absolutely hilarious to you. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that you just really didn’t want to be here right now, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You kept laughing when the man beside you elbowed you harshly in the side and when the robber in front of you grabbed you by the shirt.

“What’s so funny?” He snapped.

“You guys are!” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry but come on! If you saw some other criminals mess up as bad as you guys are, you would laugh too! Not saying that I’m a criminal, it’s just, ah, I’m sorry! This is really embarrassing for you guys. I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t laugh. But it’s too funny not to! Sorry!”

“Shut them up already!” The shorter man behind the counter shouted.

The other man beside him spoke up. “We should get out of here. The police will be on their way and I’m not going back to jail.”

“SH you’ve never been to jail.” The youngest scoffed with a shake of his head before he continued. “Still, I agree. Let’s get out of here already.”

As the robbers started to head for the door, the man in front of you, the one called WY, stayed where he was. You stared right back at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to follow your buddies?”

“There’s something about you…” His voice trailed off as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Gee thanks.” You rolled your eyes with a small smirk. “Just what I’ve always wanted: to be complimented by a criminal. You made my whole life, mister.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at your words, however he did let go of your shirt. “No, I mean you’re not scared of us. I don’t get it. Why aren’t you scared?”

You shrugged. “Should I be? Like I said, you guys tried to rob a bank with blanks. How can anyone be scared of something that would feel like being shot with a paintball? I mean, yeah, it’ll hurt like a motherfucker, but it shouldn’t kill anyone. I don’t see you guys as the kind to shoot a gun pressed against someone’s body.”

“That’s not the full answer.”

You were a bit taken aback by his response. It wasn’t so much that it felt like he was calling you bluff, but it felt more like he could see through you. Especially since he was right; that wasn’t the full answer.

Again, it felt like you were struck by a bolt of courage and the words tumbled from your mouth, “Yeah, you’re right. I can see behind that mask of yours. I can see your eyes. You’re not the kind to hurt someone innocent. Sure, you’ll rob and cheat, but you won’t hurt anyone. So, no, I am not afraid of you. As for the rest of you, I can’t say for sure. But you, I’m not scared of you.”

Behind his mask, you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, as he was giving a small smile. “Well, you may not be flattered by my previous compliment, but I am. And since we’re being honest, I should give you an answer of my own. You’re pretty cute. If you ever want to get in trouble with someone who has kind eyes, try and find me some time. You’ll find I’m pretty easy to find.”

Before you could say anything else, one of the other robbers came running in. It was S and he looked pissed. “Oh my God, WY! Hurry the fuck up! HJ is mad beyond all reason and we seriously need to get out of here before the heat does. So c’mon!”

As S ran out of the bank, WY sighed and rolled his eyes. “Damn, we’re all in for it when we get back to base. Maybe you won’t be able to find me since I’ll be six feet under.”

“I don’t know, your boss could be reasonable.” Even you knew those words were a lie as you said them, a smirk stretching across your lips. “But before you go, give me a hint of how I can find you. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer.”

He glanced around before shouting. “IF ANY ONE OF YOU TELL THE COPS ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE ABOUT TO SEE, I WILL HUNT DOWN EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU AND TORTURE YOU UNTIL YOUR LAST DYING DAYS.”

Before you could call him out on his bluff, he lifted up his mask and winked at you. Quickly, you memorized everything you could about his face. He had a small mouth and a button nose. But what really struck you about him were his eyes still. They were big and wide, sparkling with mischief and wonder alike. He was truly breathtaking. Perhaps you really would take him up on his offer to try and find him, just so you could see a face like that again.

Just as quickly as he lifted his mask, he quickly pulled it back down and raced out of the bank. It was like a spell had been broken. While everyone was in a rush to get information of the robbers, corroborating stories, and calling police, you were frozen in place.

It felt like your life had drastically changed in that very moment, that brief moment you saw his face without his mask. It was like you were seeing him at his most vulnerable, and you liked what you saw. Sure he was a stranger, and you barely knew his name, you knew you were never going to forget him. He was someone that was going to plague your mind for the rest of your life.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face.

Maybe you were tired from work. Maybe you were frustrated because your peaceful day off was thwarted by not only having to go to the bank, but also because you were part of a hold up at the bank. Maybe it was because you had a death wish. But none of that mattered anymore.

As you started to leave the bank, the man who had been standing beside you called out, “Where do you think you’re going? The police are going to want to talk to you! You’re the star witness you know!”

You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Unlike the rest of you, I’m not pressing charges.”

“But, but, but they’re criminals!” The woman who was before him blubbered, tears still falling down her cheeks. “They stole our money!”

“No they didn’t.” You opened the door to the bank and picked up the bag that was in front of it. “At least, they didn’t steal the money each of you had on you. However, they took the money from the bank. So if the bank wants to press charges, it can. But I hold no alliance to an institution, least of all to a bank.”

You threw the bag into the bank before walking out.

You had a criminal to find.

66 notes · View notes

sorryimananti-romantic · 2 years

Text

Win (Part 1)

wooyoung x princess/assassin!reader

royal au but wooyoung is from the enemy nation and you both are sort of undercover

genre and warnings: fluff, angst, violence warnings, mention of death and violence

word count: ~20k

series masterlist

taglist: @baguette-atiny @yuufiles @charreddonuts @atiny68 @imthatdiamond95 @livbay @cupcakes-n-coffee @mxnxmistic @marievllr-abg @yunnierights @allaboutsan @yla-aira

You stood in front of the mirror, scanning your figure clad in all black, revealing no skin at all- gloved hands, covered neck… even the feminine curves of your body. Your hair was tied in a braid, hidden by the hood of your cloak. Not even the gleaming silver of the numerous daggers fastened to your belts were visible. You drew the neck covering up, hiding the most part of your face. Only your eyes were visible, and that was not going to be a problem, because those who met your eyes usually didn’t live to tell the tale.

Checking to see if all your weapons were intact and the laces of your shoes weren’t loose, you took out the address you were provided, the destination you were to reach at the darkest time of the night and eliminate the person who dared to threaten the throne of the soon to be queen of Wonderland. It wasn’t far from here. You went to the cupboard and donned your rifle, leaving the shed without a sound.

In this town, it wasn’t hard to travel undetected. You could use the crowded streets and still pass undetected, or you could take dark alleys and climb roofs, which was your preferred mode of travel. You wanted to avoid any human interactions, if possible.

When you were near the hotel where your target was staying for the night, you climbed the nearest roof that was accessible and went from there around the hotel until you spotted the man and recognised him instantly, shaking your head in disappointment.

Traitor. To the King and the soon-to-be Queen. To the Kingdom of Wonderland. He deserved the fate he was about to meet.

You settled on the flat surface of the roof and aimed your rifle. You were a dead shot with your rifle, you had proved without fail in the three years of your career as a marksman. You were one of the best snipers that the gang had- ‘gang’, you used to informally call the group of people that served the throne while posing as common people. The official name, ‘Wanderers’ wasn’t public yet, and you wished it would stay this way. No one needed to know of their existence- especially not yours.

You aimed for the head of the man you thought you could trust but just found out to be a traitor. You swallowed your emotions- this wasn’t the time for distractions. You loaded your rifle and took a deep breath, your finger resting on the trigger, waiting to pull-

The sound of the gun firing made you think for a moment that your hand slipped- but your gun was silent and still in your hands. You immediately looked to your right and spotted a figure two roofs away pulling their gun back, successfully having shot your target. You narrowed your eyes- had he not seen you? Had he-

Oh, you were wrong. He looked in your direction and bowed dramatically before running off, and you got chills for a good second before you gathered your wits and went after him. It couldn’t be one of the Wanderers- they always made sure only one person was doing one job. It had to be someone else, but who else would have a reason to kill the Minister of Defence other than someone who served their kingdom like a true patriot?

You had to know who this person was. You jumped roof after roof, practically chasing after him, but then he was out of your sight. You jumped down an alley, looking left and right-

There he stood, looking practically relaxed as he leaned against the wall, cleaning his fingernails. You frowned and your hand subconsciously went to your dagger-

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” the silky smooth voice of the man said. “I’m here to negotiate. I suggest you cooperate.”

“Who do you work for?” You asked, and you noticed his brow raising- perhaps he hadn’t suspected you to be a woman.

“Who do you work for?” He asked and you scoffed. Fair enough.

“What do you want to negotiate?”

“I definitely saw you aiming for the Minister. I beat you to it though.” You could tell he was grinning under his mask- his eyes had that mischievous glint in them. “Anyways, we had the same goal- getting rid of that man. So why don’t we shake hands on it and part ways? You can tell people that you killed him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Wouldn’t work,” you muttered, thinking. “No man has ever looked me in the eye and walked back alive. Give me a reason to spare your life.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “We’re comrades, if anything. I think as a favour for successfully getting rid of your target, you could let me go. It doesn’t seem like we’ll cross paths again. What do you say?”

“I would have shot him without your ‘help’,” you shifted your weight to one leg, thinking. “Who do you work for?”

“I work alone,” he revealed and you wondered if he was the Minister’s family or had a personal motive to kill him. “Come on, just shake hands on it and let it go. I can kill you just as easily as you can kill me. No use fighting now when we’ve completed our mission, right?”

You nodded slowly- it was inevitable now. You couldn’t risk revealing your identity to him, so you did what he suggested- extended your hand. He shook it firm and good, doing a little salute before turning away and disappearing into the darkness. You sighed, taking the opposite path and parting ways.

When you reached the shed, you marked the wall with one of your daggers- an indication to your group members to know that you had successfully eliminated the target. You placed all your weapons back save for your personal twin daggers and went outside, where the only other person who knew of your identity, Yeosang, waited.

“Took you longer this time,” he said, drawing his cloak back in, “You good?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, “Let’s get back before sunrise.”

Yeosang nodded, helping you up the horse and the two of you went home.

—-----------------

“I need refreshments, now,” you muttered to Yeosang, who sat right beside you, “or else I will pass out.”

Yeosang stifled his own yawn, playing with the gold buttons of his black uniform. “I should get some too, right? I didn’t hear a thing throughout the meeting- let’s share notes from this meeting later.”

You nodded, unceremoniously sighing and pursing your lips when you saw your father frown at you, making you immediately straighten. Yeosang asked the nearest person to get you both something to drink.

“Did you not get enough sleep?” Your father asked.

“I did,” you lied, “The meeting was very boring, you have to admit.”

The council members looked uncomfortable with your statement, some grunting while the others stifled their smiles. You frowned- they should be used to your bluntness by now.

“Your Highness,” the maid presented you with iced coffee which you gratefully took, Yeosang following after you. You raised a brow as if to challenge anyone who dared question your choice of refreshment- you were never a hot tea type of person. You were glad your Right Hand, Yeosang, was just like you in that matter.

You sat through another half an hour of the meeting, immediately excusing yourself as soon as the King, your father, left. You and Yeosang made it to your chamber with perfect postures, relaxing once you two had privacy.

“They think someone with a personal motive must have killed the Minister of Defence,” you slumped on the couch, spreading your legs in a very unladylike manner. Your maid would scold you endlessly if she saw you like that. However, Yeosang couldn’t care less. He mirrored your position as he sat in front of you, grabbing a chocolate from your personal box. You glared at him- he was way too comfortable with you.

“Isn’t that what happened with the other person?” Yeosang referred to the man you had encountered last night. The ‘comrade’, you were calling him.

“I don’t think it was strictly personal,” you folded your arms. “It didn’t seem so.”

“Well, he’s dead now. I saw quite some people pleased to learn of his death.”

“I know, they were way too obvious,” you scoffed, extending your hand and Yeosang tossed you a chocolate. “I have another meeting, three days from now.”

“I don’t get why I’m dragged into this stuff. Why do I have to sacrifice my sleep? So the Queen-to-be doesn’t trip on her own feet while coming back to the castle?”

“You’re serving the crown, Yeosang, try to look a little proud of that,” you teased him and he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Well, here we are. To get out of this, you’ll have to meet the other me. There’s no other way,” you smirked and Yeosang groaned, curling up on the sofa and pretending to take a nap.

“So the only option at freedom I have is death at the hands of you, an assassin-”

“Shh, even the walls have ears,” you glared at him.

“I think I’ll take it,” he muttered and you ignored it. Yeosang was like that. He always complained and whined but not once in his life did he let you down or not support you, though he’d rather bury himself in his own grave before admitting it directly.

Your train of thoughts went back to the man you had seen last night- not much taller than you but still tall enough. Silky smooth voice, an unfamiliar accent- he sounded like he was from Wonderland but hadn’t been home for a while. And his eyes-

Mismatched, pretty eyes. Too pretty for a man. You were jealous. Yeosang popped open one eye to see you pouting, and he scoffed. “Thinking about someone?”

“I wonder if I’ll see him again,” you scratched your chin. “Should I kill him on sight?”

“He could be useful. And I have a feeling you’ll be seeing him again very soon,” Yeosang raised a brow. “You have to be careful.”

Yeosang was right, as usual. You saw that man three days later on your way to assassinate someone from the opposition party who was about to find out about the Wanderer’s Society. You were travelling in alleys, dressed in your usual gear, when you almost walked past the man. You paused in your tracks, frowning when you realised that he, too, had.

“We meet again,” he almost sounded like he was smiling, though you couldn’t see it. “It’s quite easy to pass by undetected now, I’m realising, but you must have sharp senses.”

“Who are you again?” You asked, but he heard the teasing tone. “Here to interrupt me during work again?”

“Interesting, how you call it ‘work’,” he finally turned to meet your eyes, and you noticed the mole under his eye due to the faint lamp post illuminating what was unveiled of his face. “Isn’t it quite late for a lady to be ‘working’?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you that foreigners should avoid dark alleys at night?” You folded your arms. “Don’t want an ‘accident’ happening to you.”

He scoffed. “I belong from Wonderland, thank you very much, though I have been away for most of my life. Still, this is my home. I feel safe at my home- well, not so safe after encountering you.”

“I don’t have time for chit-chat right now,” you pulled the pocket watch out, groaning because you were running late. “Seems like we’re going in opposite directions. I hope we don’t see each other again, for our own good.”

“Oh, we will be seeing each other again, I can feel it in my gut,” he sounded smug and you wondered why he was so sure. Or perhaps, he just liked to tease. “Have a nice walk, my lady,” he said and took off his hat, the dark tendrils of his hair falling down as he bowed and turned away, not even waiting for your reply.

He made you feel unsettled, and you were frustrated- this was the first time in your life that a man, other than your father, made you feel unsettled. You felt like a little kid about to have a tantrum, and you had to shake your head to shrug off the feeling too. You made way to the nearest town to set a mislead and waited to see if he grabbed your bait and strayed away from the direction that your target was set in- so close to discovering your group. If he did not grab the bait, it would be his last night alive.

—-----------------

As expected, the ‘comrade’ did not grab your bait, but the target did. You shot him from a fair distance when he was on his way home after meeting the opposition’s head. It would make it look like an internal rivalry- you even used one of the bullets more commonly used by the opposition. Everything was perfect-

Or so you thought.

A scuffle broke out at your route of escape- after the gunshot, you couldn’t risk jumping roofs. You rolled your eyes at the timing of all this, sliding down the pipe and jumping into the dark alley, calculating your options- you could either wait for the commotion to die down, or you could wear another disguise- the one where everyone could see you but no one would recognise you.

As the Princess, you weren’t very public yet. Only your court knew your face, and you preferred to keep it that way not only because of your other job, but because more people knowing your face would only cause trouble. You were not the queen yet and you had not made a public appearance in about 4 years- ever since the attempted assassination of your father. That was the last time you accompanied him outside- you did not have a choice there, it was for your own ‘safety’.

The people had forgotten your face- you had heard a lot of gossip about the absence of the princess and how it seemed like she did not exist anymore. Good for you.

You only waited for Yeosang to come to you- he always stayed close during the missions that were to be carried out in public- ones like today, in case anything like this happened. He soon found you and you told him your plan. Yeosang unzipped the bag and you took off all the extra layers of clothes, changing into an average looking hanbok. You hid your weapons in the bag and the two of you walked out of the alley as if nothing had happened, making way towards the commotion, from where you would blend into the growing crowd of the angry ladies who were struggling to move past them.

“Of all the days,” you muttered and Yeosang scoffed.

“Good thing I was near,” Yeosang muttered back. “You would have died of boredom waiting in the alley otherwise.”

“Definitely,” you sighed. You made a quick assessment of the people around you- everyone was too busy looking at the group of men fighting, ignoring their princess walking among them.

“I’m having a few silly ideas, Yeosang,” you turned to him, smiling. “I could visit the town sometime dressed like this. No one would recognise me!”

“Bad idea,” Yeosang tsk-ed and shook his head. “You’re just lucky this time that the attention is already drawn.”

“You sound like my brooding old father, Yeosang,” you rolled your eyes. “We should do this sometime! Look- no one cares.”

You separated from Yeosang, blending among the very angry ladies, earning an elbow to your ribs before you made it out. It took Yeosang another minute and he came out with a harsh frown, making you grin.

“See? Point proven.”

“Yeah, whatever. You know no one’s going to let you out.”

“I’ll let myself out,” you said, sighing in relief because the road ahead was clear save for a few passersby. “I don’t need permission to go outside, I’m not a kid-”

You paused for a second as a man passed you, turning to look at him after a few seconds, frowning when you realised he had paused in his tracks too. Yeosang stood in confusion, watching the man turn and scan you briefly.

Perhaps it was his eyes- so familiar. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before he tipped his hat, bowing a little and you returned it with a little nod before continuing. Yeosang looked back and forth anxiously. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “He seemed awfully familiar. Did we have him in court or something?”

“Not that I remember,” Yeosang said. “But it looked like he recognised you.”

“He would have bowed or something if he recognised me, shouldn’t he? That was just a passerby nod. He definitely did not recognise me, but… perhaps he almost did. Anyways, it’s not like he’ll do anything.”

You were so wrong about that, you would soon find out. Since the death of the Minister of Defence and another Utopian that you had successfully eliminated, the Utopians residing in Wonderland were growing restless. The court was having a tough time dealing with the threats and shit they had to deal with (sadly, because of your doing) and soon, the court decided to bring this matter to the King and the Princess.

Within that week, there was going to be a meeting where the representatives of Utopia in Wonderland’s courts were going to address the rather suspicious killing of two Utopians. You were wondering just how to solve this matter without creating a conflict- usually, the Inspector and Security Office handled these kinds of matters.

“They’re going to do anything in their power to make us look helpless,” your father finally spoke the first time during dinner. “What’s your plan, if your poor old father might ask?”

You passed the King a side-eyed glance. “My poor old father is the king of this nation. What does the all-wise King think?”

Your father laughed, acknowledging your retort. “They are going to suggest appointing another Utopian for the vacant position of the Minister of Defence, as an act to prove the amiable relations between Wonderland and Utopia. In front of the court and all the representatives, it will make us look bad if we do not accept their request.”

“And if I give physical proof of the late Minister’s traitorous intentions? Would that be enough?”

The King smirked. “It would seem so, but it will only fuel the Utopians in their stupid ambitions to take Wonderland.”

“Well, adding a little fuel to the fire before burning it all out seems the better option to me,” you wiped your mouth with a kerchief. “The decision is up to you. Consider my suggestion, will you?”

“Sometimes I wonder if you are the king of me,” your father said and you smiled.

“I’m only easing the burden on your shoulders, Your Majesty,” you passed a playful smile.

Back in your room, Yeosang unboxed the pastries and unhooked the lower layer of the box, revealing a compartment and handing you the ledger in it that the late Minister possessed, which would be definite proof of his illegal transactions that funded his private army. “I received this when I went to town. It will be useful in the meeting, Master says.”

You nodded, going through the contents. “I hope the meeting goes without any surprises.”

That was the second time you jinxed yourself. As you settled in the furthest corner of the table on the right side of the King, wiping your hands on your deep red gown, you took a deep breath when the men and women of the court started filling the room, settling on either side of the table. You looked carefully at each person that entered, finding quite some new faces.

When everyone settled down, the King started chatting with the man on his left while the woman on your right caught your attention when she greeted you. You recognised her as one of the supervisors in the Defence Office, and you asked her how her kids were. She seemed to be pleased that you remembered her.

While she told you about how her kids were the age where they start rebelling, your eyes accidentally met the young man next to her, the both of you looking away instantly. You frowned and looked back at him- he had familiar eyes.

When the woman finished talking, you met eyes with that man and addressed him. “I don’t think I recognise you.”

“You wouldn’t, Your Highness,” he smiled and passed a little bow. “I arrived a month ago from Utopia. I work in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”

Ah, you thought. The enemy. He had to be one of the Utopians wanting to take over the Ministry.

“I hope you’re feeling at home here,” you gave him your rehearsed smile, noticing the mole under his eye-

It couldn’t be him, could he? The ‘comrade’? He did look familiar- perhaps because you may have seen him on the street before or something-

“I belong from Wonderland, actually,” the man said, to your surprise. “I moved to Utopia when I was little. This is the first time I came back.”

“Interesting,” you nodded. “Your family migrated?”

“Actually, they passed away here before I moved,” he said and you apologised but he told you that it was okay.

Before you could ask his name, a maid interrupted when she served drinks to the three of you. Your father called you, introducing you to the people sitting near him. You got busy with them, and when the King was done with his refreshments, he tapped on the table to get everyone’s attention.

“Some unfortunate circumstances in the past few weeks led to this meeting. It has come to my knowledge that the Utopians who serve here feel restless due to the two assassinations of their brothers- the Minister of Defence, and an officer from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” You resisted the urge to gulp, nodding along with him. He continued, “Quite unfortunate. The Minister of Defence, I knew personally. He was a loyal servant of this nation.”

Everyone on the table agreed, and he spoke again. “It is time to elect a new Minister of Defence. I have a few options in mind, people I’d like to recommend for the position. I have already sent my team to personally investigate the assassinations of the two.”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” a man from the other corner of the room spoke, and you frowned at the sly look on his face. “The morale of the Utopians residing here would rise if you appoint a Utopian for this position. It would truly be an acknowledgement of honour.”

“I agree,” another man and then another woman nodded. The woman spoke, “Utopians must feel safe and acknowledged in Wonderland. Our relationship has only begun to bloom. It would be a pity if it doesn’t fully blossom.”

The King heard everyone out patiently. A few people even insisted that the Minister of Defence be someone from Wonderland because a Utopian at that position would seem risky. Finally, the King looked at you. You cleared your throat.

“Wonderland and Utopia have quite a rocky relationship, if we get real,” you said and a few people shifted in their seats. “When it serves both our interests, there is no other nation that can weaken our bond. Yet… we find ourselves at the opposite ends when we are not in agreement.”

“That is true,” an old man nodded and you acknowledged him before moving on.

“It is quite a tragedy that the two met, and whoever the culprit is will meet their punishment according to the law. However, I think that Wonderland’s defence should be overlooked by someone from Wonderland itself. As you all know, the late Minister was a Utopian by blood. It seems that Utopians are threatened in that position.”

You suppressed your smirk as the table burst into a fit of argument. The King cleared his throat to calm down everyone, but no one was having it. You met eyes with the young man again who was either smiling or smirking- it was confusing.

“Silence,” the King commanded.

“Your Majesty, how will you honour the death of the Utopians if you do not pick a Utopian for the position?” the sly old man spoke.

“Honour…” the King trailed, meeting eyes with everyone on the table. “You speak of honour. Aren’t you the Chief Army Officer?”

The man frowned in confusion as he nodded. The King threw the ledger across the table that had been previously sitting on his lap. The man visibly paled.

“You, a Utopian, speak of honour when you were funding the Minister of Defence, also a Utopian, to create a private army. For what purpose? I think we all know what purpose that could be.”

Gasps sounded across the room. This time, you did not hide the satisfaction on your face.

“Tell me, Chief Army Officer. I ought to expel every Utopian here, isn’t that so?”

“Your Majesty,” someone from across the table stood up and bowed. “Please reconsider. I am a Utopian, and I had no knowledge of this traitorous movement. I am loyal to Wonderland as if it was my own homeland, and I would have reported this if it came into my knowledge.”

“So would I,” a woman spoke. “Not every Utopian is as selfish as the Chief Army Officer, it seems.”

A number of people asked the King to reconsider and he nodded. “I shall bring him to justice, and everyone who took part in this scheme, and everyone who was aware of this but did not report it to me. Is that clear?”

A chorus of ‘yes, Your Majesty’ sounded. “I think it’s a fair decision. As for the Minister of Defence, I would recommend Colonel Park. He would do an excellent job, since he once managed my own private army as well. Does anybody have a problem with it?”

No one did.

“Then the meeting is over. Guards! Take the Chief Army Officer to the interrogation room.”

While ruckus broke there, you got up, asking the rest of the people to move to the Great Hall, where dinner would be served. Your father patted your back and you passed him a smile before you two went your separate ways. Yeosang accompanied you to the Great Hall, asking you to suppress your grin.

After dinner, drinks were served and the King went to his chamber with some of his friends. You stood in a corner, no one daring to approach you anymore after your statement except a few old faces who complimented your stance. You brought the glass of wine to your mouth, frowning because it was empty now-

“Here,” a familiar voice sounded and you turned- the man with the mole under his eye. You thanked him as you took the wine glass, clicking it with him before you drank. “You looked lonely.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘lonely’,” you frowned but smiled when you saw him grinning. So he was a tease. “I guess everyone got intimidated earlier.”

“It would seem so,” he nodded.

“I didn’t get your name earlier, Mr…?”

“Jung. Jung Wooyoung.”

You nodded. “You looked familiar for some reason. But it’s the first time that we met, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” he said and you narrowed your eyes.

“Something tells me that you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Well, I might be wrong about this, but…” he scanned you slowly, making your heart sink. “Wasn’t it you on the very street where the scuffle broke out? Right where the officer from Foreign Affairs was assassinated?”

Shit, you thought. This was the end of you-

Wait. “You were the one who paused and looked at me and then did this with the tip of your hat?” You mimicked his little bow and he laughed, making you sigh in relief.

“I did not know you were the Princess. I apologise if my action might have seemed rude.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t a Princess at that time,” you pretended to look here and there before you leaned in and said in a low voice. “You see… ever since the attempted assassination of my father some 4 years ago, I was pretty much banned from going out in public. But sometimes, I sneak out with my Right Hand, Yeosang. I wear normal clothes and blend in.”

“That sounds adventurous,” he scoffed. “What a coincidence, huh?”

You weren’t sure if he was referring to the coincidence that you two met again, or the fact that you were so near to where the assassination took place. “Yeosang was frantic when he heard the gunshot. He thought someone was targeting us. He has forbidden me from going out without guards anymore, which sadly means I cannot shop for ornaments or cosmetics without attracting attention.”

“Sounds sad,” Wooyoung passed you a pitiful smile. “It must be hard to stay within the confines of the castle at all times.”

“It gets suffocating, I have to admit,” you nodded. “But… What were you doing there? You could have been in danger too.”

Wooyoung took your empty glass and set it on the table nearby. “I was just walking around. Wonderland has changed but still feels the same.”

You looked at Wooyoung and noticed his mismatched eyes. He resembled your ‘comrade’ an awful lot. But you were in no position to confirm. You weren’t sure if he found you familiar like that too. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

Wooyoung nodded, and Yeosang interrupted, asking you to see off some of your father’s guests. You took your leave, spending about an hour seeing different people off. Finally, you said goodbye to Wooyoung too. After the long night, when you came back to your chamber, you sighed, your eyes steel.

“We need to conduct a background check on Jung Wooyoung from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as soon as possible. And he must not know. If he finds out, he’ll know of my other identity.”

Yeosang nearly dropped his teacup. “How, exactly, did it come to this?”

“If he is who I think he is,” you looked at him, “He is the one who assassinated the Minister of Defence. He beat me to it. I almost killed him but we shook hands on it and let it go. Then I encountered him again the night I assassinated the officer.”

“Oh god,” Yeosang took a seat. You waved your hand.

“I’m sure he’s not, but just to be on the safe side.”

That was the first lie you told Yeosang in the course of many lies that were soon to follow.

—---------------

There wasn’t much you found on Wooyoung, to your disappointment. He was from a middle class family. His parents were killed in a robbery attempt. He luckily and unfortunately, survived. He moved to Utopia shortly after with his father’s friends. He must have enrolled in the army there and studied to become who he was today.

But one thing that bothered you was why he was back in Wonderland. He must hate his homeland for what it did to his parents. He must resent the police, the royals, the officials, for not maintaining safety in this land and for stealing his parents from him. Just what exactly did he want to accomplish coming here, especially at fragile times like these? Utopia was growing more powerful having gathered Wonderland’s enemies as their own allies. It was common knowledge that Utopia was planning to at least shake Wonderland up if not take over completely. Was this Wooyoung’s sense of justice for his parents?

Or the other possible scenario: what if he was in some sort of society of assassins that fought to maintain justice and right, like you were? He clearly wasn’t in your own society. What other society would work to keep Wonderland safe? Did Utopia have their own society? But then if he was who you thought he was, why would he kill someone who worked for Utopia?

Was he the same person you had met twice now? Or was he just Mr. Jung Wooyoung of Utopia’s Foreign Affairs?

“You’re going to turn bald if you scratch more of your hair out. Can you imagine the crown on your bald head? Just what are you thinking?”

You glared at Yeosang but stopped clenching at your hair. “It’s just all murky. Nothing makes sense. He can’t be that clean. You have to admit that his face screams ‘mischief’.”

“Mischief and mystery,” Yeosang mused. “Do you think I should befriend him? I have a feeling we will get along.”

“Yeah. Get along,” you practically spat. “I’ll soon see you conspiring against me, won’t I?”

“Now, now,” Yeosang laughed, “Once you stop conspiring against your own self, I'll consider that. You’re practically your own enemy, Princess.”

“Whatever,” you sighed. “When do you think I can see this Mr. Jung again?”

“Unless your society issues an order to assassinate him, pretty soon. The King requested a committee to help him smoothen the strained relations between Utopia and Wonderland. He’s appointing people who are mostly of ‘mixed’ blood, if you can call it that. People like Mr. Jung who belong to one but serve another country.”

“Wow,” you nodded sarcastically, “how is that going to be helpful? That’ll only create more confusion than necessary.”

“That’s exactly what he aims to do, your father,” Yeosang grinned. “Make Utopians question why they’re even doing this in the first place.”

“Let’s see if it even works,” you muttered. “So Jung Wooyoung is going to be in the castle more often now?”

“Oh, he’s going to be staying here,” Yeosang smirked and you groaned. “Your father was kind enough to offer them rooms to save the hassle.”

“I think some hassle would have made for good exercise.”

A few days later after having lay low but growing restless and irritated, you spotted Wooyoung in the castle- he was walking in the main garden with who you assumed was one of the other committee members, observing his surroundings- or perhaps, simply appreciating the beauty of the garden- while he walked. You shrugged, walking away to your office, where Kim Hongjoong, the King's Right Hand, was waiting.

“Fancy seeing you in a good mood,” you commented and he rolled his eyes. He was one of the very few people who didn’t take you seriously- like your own Right Hand, perhaps because he had seen you grow up. He was also aware you were involved in some ‘secret business’, though he didn’t know the details because he himself had advised the King that it would be better if he knew as little as possible.

“Fancy seeing you not on the verge of losing your shit with the Utopians now prowling in this castle,” Hongjoong retorted. “I know how much you like them.”

You passed him a sweet smile, settling on the sofa. “What’s the news?”

“The King is planning a little something to make the Utopians feel welcomed in the castle,” Hongjoong began, spreading a few pages of rough sketches of his plan- you were now one of the very, very few people who could actually decipher what gibberish (albeit, smart gibberish) he wrote.

“And he thought a party- a ball might be a good idea?” You practically groaned- you hated these. “Aren’t they feeling welcomed enough with the dinner they had two days ago with the King themselves? And the tea they had with him yesterday?”

“All very formal while they discussed just how exactly they were going to work,” Hongjoong said, “Let’s face it- an event like this with other officials will surely make a good presentation and relax the Utopians as well.”

“Whatever,” you slumped back. “And I’m supposed to be present?”

“And supposed to interact properly, feel them out. You know how much your father relies on your judgement.”

You pursed your lips, you could see the point of all of this. The castle hadn’t held something like this in a while, so it was a good opportunity- killing several birds with one stone. It was just that you hated these events due to a multitude of reasons.

As you finished your meeting with Hongjoong and reviewing the documents for the day, making your way to your father’s chamber for dinner, you almost bumped into-

“Mr. Jung,” you put a hand on your chest. “You almost scared me.”

“I apologise,” he bowed and you told him it was okay. “You seemed to be distracted. Something bothering you, Your Highness?”

“Ah, just the usual,” you shook it off. “Just tired from sitting in the office all day, I was just going to have dinner with my father now. Would you care to join?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t intrude,” he smiled in gratitude but declined the offer. “Have a good night’s sleep, Your Highness- shall I send you some of my favourite herbs for tea before bed? They help me sleep better.”

“Ah, my staff already has a lot of those,” you smiled but he shook his head.

“Not this one, I’m sure,” he looked- proud? “You’ll know once you drink. I’ll send a batch.”

“Thank you for your kind offer,” you nodded, amused.

“You can get it checked for poison too,” he said, and if he had been someone else, you would have thrown the batch (and the person who sent it) before it could see the light, but the glint of amusement- such good-natured mischief? You hadn’t met someone like that in a good while.

“Ah, should I?” You countered- you enjoyed when someone could play along with you without cowering in fear or sucking it up for favours. “Maybe we can have that said tea together then- play it safe.”

The rich sound of his laughter made you grin as well. You shook your head, “I should get going. Thank you in advance- let’s see if it works. Penalty points if it doesn’t.”

“Let’s see… if you sleep well tonight… you owe me one, Princess.”

You raised your brow at the way he said it- it didn’t offend you, though, which was more surprising. “Very well. I’ll let you know when I see you next- if I manage to wake up tomorrow. Have a good night, Mr. Jung.”

He laughed again, bowing before walking off and you watched him for a moment before walking to your father’s chamber which was two turns away, suddenly wondering just what he was doing here. You got your answer when your father told you he had just met a very interesting person.

“You mean Mr. Jung? What’s so interesting?”

“He’s a quite skilled person, very sharp,” your father commented and you were impressed because he wasn’t wearing a frown while he said that, which meant he liked him too. “He might do us good. He came here to give me a few gifts from Utopia- from the King himself. He seems to be their candidate for Foreign Minister.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Quite young for the position, don’t you think?”

“He must have something special if they’re even considering it,” the King urged you to begin eating after he filled his plate. “We should be careful with him- he could be a double-edged sword.”

You nodded- he could very well be.

—--------------------

I am very much alive still, thank you very much-

You sighed, rolling what might have been your tenth attempt to let Mr. Jung know that you woke up and slept well last night, courtesy of the tea he had sent you. You didn’t want to sound too interested in him, but you also wanted to have a teasing tone-

“Just say it to his face the next time you see him,” Yeosang shook his head in disappointment at the mess you, the Princess, had created, several balls of crumpled paper on the floor of your living room- one dangerously close to the fireplace which he kicked away. “Why are you even bothering?”

“I should thank him- and… he’s a bit funny,” you laughed despite yourself and Yeosang raised a brow. “I appreciate that he’s not sucking up to me like everyone else, that’s it.”

“Whatever,” Yeosang snatched the pen and paper from you. “It’s time to discuss the details of the ball with the King.”

A few minutes later, you were in the office with the King, Hongjoong, Yeosang, and a few other advisors and the people who were going to see to the arrangements. Since the event was to welcome the Utopians and make them feel at home in the castle, the designers were trying to go with black and red theme for the decoration, representative of Utopia’s colours, which would also go well with the representative white and navy blue of the Kingdom of Wonderland.

“It’s going to look like a circus,” you muttered under your breath and Yeosang kicked your leg with his from under the table, making you straighten and clear your throat- no one else had heard you, and you were glad they hadn’t- the designer looked very excited and you didn’t want to rain on her parade.

“If I might make a suggestion,” you interrupted, “Can we keep the navy blue to the uniforms? Red, white and black would look better, in my humble opinion, though as a designer I would have you make the final call.”

The woman must be in her mid-thirties, yet, she shook her head furiously. “That sounds better, definitely. Let’s do that. We can have a monochrome decoration with red roses- and a masquerade ball would be fun too, what do you think, Your Majesty and Your Highness?”“

“That sounds wonderful,” you said and looked at the King who simply nodded- he was more interested in the guest list anyway so you let the designer discuss the details with you before she took her leave.

“Are we still inviting those traitors?” You asked your father after the outsiders were gone, leaving only Hongjoong and Yeosang.

“If you’re referring to the Utopians serving in the Defence and Foreign Affairs department, then yes, they are invited because they should see that their brothers and sisters are getting spoiled here despite their obvious traitorous intentions to this nation.”

“You spoil them too much, father,” you fiddled with the sleeve of your emerald gown. “There’s no guarantee the Utopians present right now aren’t scheming something right now.”

“I know that very well,” the King scratched at his stubble, looking 10 years older than his age- he was still a handful of years away from hitting fifty yet the stress that came with his position made him look much older- you were positive you’d turn into an old hag sooner, beating everyone that inherited the crown so far. “Let’s just play along for now, dear. We’ll be scheming pretty soon too, you and I.”

You frowned- your father must be really tired. He rarely ever called you ‘dear’ and when he did, it basically meant that you should stop arguing and let your old man rest. You shrugged, nodding and asking him to go back to his chambers and take a nap before he busied himself anymore. The King laughed heartily at that, the corners of his eyes wrinkling.

“You sound too much like your mother at times like these.”

Another indication he was tired- he didn’t like talking about his wife unless he was tired or drunk. You smiled, watching him leave the room with heavy steps.

Your mother- you didn’t remember much of her but you were eternally grateful that you still remembered her warm hugs, her comforting touches and her humour- the one thing you had gotten from her- before she passed away. You were 10 at that time, and you had often caught your father with her pictures in his hand, eyes glazed- more times than you’d like. You had also let your father be- he had been very much in love with the Queen, you had heard and witnessed- and after she passed away, something broke in him and aged him faster-

“Hey?” Yeosang clicked his fingers in front of you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about mother,” you admitted- Yeosang was someone you were glad to have, one of the reasons being that he remembered the Queen as much as you- and adored her quite possibly as much as you did. Even your mother had been very fond of him, often treating you as equals despite everyone else’s displeasure.

“Right,” Yeosang smiled. “Though I have to disagree with the King. You sound nothing like the sweet woman that was your mother-”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you laughed, getting up and straightening your dress, fixing your posture before opening the door.

“I mean,” Yeosang followed behind but you were practically ignoring him as you walked. “With all due respect, the King should really learn to detect the sarcasm in your tone- you sounded evil when you said that he should take a nap. Some would think you are already planning to overthrow the King-”

“Yeosang-”

“But I know better-”

“Yeosang!” You whisper-yelled, smacking his arm as you stopped him before turning. “Shut up for a second.”

You peeked at what looked like one of the Utopians that was in the committee hand something that looked like a letter- or a booklet, you couldn’t tell from the distance- to a guard who looked rather friendly with the man.

“In broad daylight!” You whispered.

“The audacity!” Yeosang replied and you looked at him- you couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Shall I casually bump into the guard and check the content of whatever it is he’s holding?”

“Leave it,” you waved a hand in dismissal. “They look too mushy with each other. Check the guard’s background instead. Might just be a letter to family but let’s not ambush them so early in their stay.”

“Let’s ambush them now,” Yeosang said and before you could stop him, he walked proudly ahead, dragging you along and you would protest but you straightened when the men turned their attention to you and bowed deeply. They made no effort to hide the letter so you figured it wasn’t something to worry about.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” Yeosang greeted. “What brings you here, Mr. Hirai?”

“Good afternoon,” Mr. Hirai looked at you and then back at Yeosang. “Just having an old friend of mine send a letter to family. I’m too tired these days to walk to the post myself.”

You chuckled along with him- you were right. “Are the beds here not comfortable enough? I should ask the staff for more comfortable bedding-”

“Not at all, Your Highness,” he shook his head and hands. “The rooms are excellent- the whole chamber is warm and lively. I just have trouble sleeping at a new place, and all the travelling… an old man like me gets tired too quickly.”

“If you need anything, let us know,” Yeosang offered politely.

“I have trouble sleeping too,” you began, almost fidgeting from the mischief roiling inside you. “I believe one of your committee fellows might have something for that. In fact, Mr. Jung was kind enough to lend me some tea that helps with sleeping better.”

“Is that so?”

“Slept like a baby, I did,” you confirmed. “Do tell him the Princess sends her regards.”

Mr. Hirai gleamed at that, taking his leave after a bow and Yeosang shook his head in amusement. “You look like you waited for an opportunity like this all your life.”

“You know how it is,” you grinned.

—-----------------

It was a couple of days later that you encountered Mr. Jung in a meeting where the trade relations were discussed. The meeting was very formal and you were focusing more on observing and feeling out the handful of committee members to see whether they really were biased towards their homeland, Utopia, or were also interested in the well-being of Wonderland as their new home, but you couldn’t help notice how… casual Mr. Jung was.

There was just something about him that was so easy-going and he had the ability to engage the whole room with whatever he babbled, even making a few jokes. It both irked you and impressed you- you wished you possessed that quality too- you only had the power factor or your biting remarks holding you up.

And… maybe you were tripping, but he kept sending borderline flirty looks in your direction- or maybe, that’s just how he looked. Like a shameless flirt. Yep, it was probably that- it didn’t help that he was incredibly handsome with his sharp features and those damned facial muscles and jawline-

“With this, the meeting concludes,” Hongjoong announced and you got up before the Utopians rose and bowed in your direction, urged by the staff to move to the hall for tea.

“You should have some tea with that lot too,” Hongjoong said. “Try to have a one-to-one with some of them- if they’re brave enough to approach you.”

You narrowed your eyes at how he snickered as he said that. “So very professional, Hongjoong. I shall, only if you join me as well.”

“Oh, I’ll be there. Look, Yeosang’s already interacting,” Hongjoong pointed and indeed, he was- with none other than Mr. Jung. “They look chummy.”

“This is probably the actual first conversation they’re having,” you commented. “Isn’t Mr. Jung… way too friendly and casual?”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really. It’s nice to have someone like that- I just wish we had some charming people in our court too-”

“Hey, that’s a backhanded insult, isn’t it?” Hongjoong scoffed. “Why would anyone bother charming anyone in our meetings?”

“Fair enough,” you sighed, taking the cup of tea that one of the committee members offered you. You learned that he was ex-Finance Minister of Utopia, now advisor. He discussed some management ideas he had and you listened carefully- he seemed genuinely interested in improving the budget handling of Wonderland and you were glad you might have an actual ally.

As you were munching on a chocolate tart, Mr. Hirai joined, all laughs and smiles as he told you how he had been sleeping better after Mr. Jung lent him the herbs for the tea. You laughed back, telling him you were glad he was feeling better.

As the two left you, you looked around, noticing some of the people present stealing glances at you while some were interacting among themselves. You suddenly felt nervous, being in the middle of the room alone-

"Seems like I'm the official nanny for the committee now."

You turned to the familiar voice, grinning when you saw Mr. Jung, looking quite smart in a black button down and matching pants. "I guess you have me to thank for."

"Definitely," he grinned. "Let me know when you're about to run out. I'll have them bring a whole year's worth this time, since you like sharing it anyway."

You laughed. "I thought it was a common recipe among Utopians?"

"Not really," he smiled. "Someone in Wonderland, actually, taught me the right mix, though the ingredients you have to get from Utopia."

"Ah," you scanned his face. "How long have you lived here before moving?"

"About 8 years," he said, offering you another tart when you finished eating the one you had casually been eating. "You seem to like these."

You silently prayed he didn't notice that this was your sixth one already, but the way he was smirking… you narrowed your eyes. "Something funny?"

"Nothing, just… didn't peg you as a sucker for sweets."

"And what's wrong with that?" You took the tart. "A working brain needs energy to run. And I've noticed you don't eat much, Mr. Jung."

He laughed at the retort. "Wooyoung. You can call me Wooyoung. And I do eat quite a lot. I also had my sixth tart before mustering up the courage to come greet you."

"Courage?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you’re in need of that.”

Wooyoung smiled, leaving you confused once again- whatever he said was layered way too much with meanings you didn’t wish-or dare- to understand. “Well, I do. And since all the sugar has me high right now, dare I ask for a walk in the gardens tonight? Just to chit-chat while we curse at whoever’s troubling us these days.”

You scanned him- an invitation to walk, from someone like him? What ulterior motive did he have? Or maybe… maybe he just wanted a casual walk after all- maybe you were suspecting him without reason. But…

This walk could be advantageous to you too.

“Or not?” Wooyoung raised his brows and you realised you had been staring at him without answering. You shook your head slowly, coming out of your trance.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” you breathed. “I’d like to walk with you. After dinner, if that is alright with you.”

“I didn’t peg you as the ‘zoning out’ type, Princess.”

There it was. The teasing tone that always left you amused. “I didn’t peg you as the ‘walking in the garden with the Princess’ type either, but here we are.”

Wooyoung threw his head back as he laughed, nodding in acknowledgement. “I see how it is. Well, I’ll leave you to socialise now- you have eyes.” He pointed behind you at the duo who were waiting for your conversation with Wooyoung to be over.

“See you tonight?” You asked and Wooyoung winked at you.

“Tonight,” he confirmed.

—----------------

After dinner in your chamber after which you wanted nothing but to slide in your fluffy bed and sleep, you made yourself get up and sit in front of the mirror instead, letting your hair loose and combing it, tying the upper half of it. You rubbed your scalp- your head was hurting right now.

You considered calling off or postponing the walk with Wooyoung, but… he was an interesting person. You wanted to get to know him- you had a feeling you two would make great friends if you put aside the fact that he was a Utopian, possibly scheming to take over the nation that you were to rule in the future. You caught yourself smiling in the mirror, shaking your head. Maybe he was different- maybe he was not, however, you were sure he would never cross the line with you.

And neither would you. It was simply too big a risk to be good friends even. Friends could betray at the first chance- and with your title, you didn’t have the luxury of ‘friends’ in the first place. Everyone was after one thing or another when they tried getting to know you, and you were going to find out tonight just what Mr. Jung Wooyoung was after. And then you’d see how to move forward from there.

You changed from your formal dress into a loose ivory gown, wore your usual smile before opening the door and letting the guard accompany you to the garden where Wooyoung was already waiting. You smiled at him and he bowed in greeting. You let the guard know he could leave and then you turned to Wooyoung.

“Since you were ‘courageous’ enough to invite me for a walk, I’ll be gracious enough to take you to my private garden,” you said and he grinned, following you. “It’s not ‘private’ per se, just not public, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m honoured,” he replied and you scoffed.

“You’re very sarcastic, Wooyoung.”

“I’m not being sarcastic,” he laughed. “I get that a lot. I’m just a tease.”

“A tease?” You raised a brow.

“A natural one at that,” he smiled. “I can’t help it. I’m charming like that, am I not?”

“Very,” you replied and it was his turn to laugh at the sarcasm in your tone.

“I didn’t know you had this side to you, Princess,” Wooyoung said and you motioned to the entrance of the garden- an ornate iron gate closed shut but not locked. You opened it and stepped inside, revealing to him the garden full of sunflowers and daisies. Wooyoung wowed.

“I planted these myself when I was little,” you grinned. “And what side, exactly, are you talking about?”

“It’s a beautiful space,” Wooyoung nodded, looking at you. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You smirked, motioning to the path carved and you two walked casually. “Am I not allowed to be a tease?”

“Oh, you are entitled to be a tease, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Wooyoung said. “You sound tired though. The meeting must have left you exhausted.”

“Frankly, it did, and we should probably sit,” you laughed and Wooyoung immediately motioned to the bench nearby. You gladly slumped down. “It was a long day.”

“You should have rested,” Wooyoung frowned.

“I thought a walk with you was what I needed,” you sounded unconvincing- but that was on purpose.

“I can handle a little rejection, Princess,” Wooyoung laughed- he was quick.

“Half-lying,” you grinned. “I do like that we can chat comfortably and maybe that’s what I needed tonight. Anyways, tell me about yourself, Mr. Jung. How did you end up here?”

His eyes darkened for a second- or maybe you were truly flipping. He sighed dramatically. “I lost my parents before I moved to Utopia. Wonderland wasn’t the kindest to me after their death. But I had always been ambitious, and somehow I found myself in the Foreign Affairs office- people like me usually do well there.”

“People like you?” You restrained yourself from asking just what exactly happened to him after his parent’s death.

“People like me who’ll never have a true home,” he looked at you. “I’m from Wonderland and Utopia. Neither Utopia nor Wonderland accepts me as their own- not truly.”

“But…” you shifted in your seat, “You are from Wonderland- don’t you feel at home here?”

“The people look at me like I’m a foreigner,” he said and you realised it made sense- you, too, thought of him like that. “I’m a foreigner to Utopians as well. Tragic, isn’t it?”

“What would you call yourself though?” You cocked your head as you stared at him- those mismatched eyes and the mole under his eye, he had to be the person you had been looking for-

“Do I have to be one?” He mirrored your position. “Isn’t me trying to bring peace between the two nations I call home enough for me to be embraced by both?”

“I understand- but the public never will,” you nodded. “A similar dilemma I have to deal with- being a Princess means I’m not a person of my own anymore.”

“Ah,” Wooyoung clapped. “Exactly that feeling. As sad as it is, I’m glad we have something in common.”

“You’re glad?” You laughed, “We might have even more in common, if you care to share.”

“Well… I really like sunflowers, and it seems like you do too,” he looked around. “Something in common?”

You nodded. “We’re both a bit annoying to others, aren’t we?”

Wooyoung chuckled. “And it seems like we share a good sense of humour as well.”

“I feel sorry for the people around me,” you shared a look with him- the way he was stifling his smile really made a show of his facial structure and you couldn’t help but admire it for a moment. If he really was an assassin undercover like you…

Just what was his purpose in coming to Wonderland?

“You’re staring, Princess,” Wooyoung’s voice was uncharacteristically low. “Should I be flattered?”

“I’m just wondering if I should tell you that there’s a spider crawling on your head-”

To say you were surprised with the little but high pitched shriek that came out of Wooyoung’s voice was an understatement- you were positive that if he had shrieked a little longer, the castle would have sounded their alarms. After Wooyoung was done with his little scared dance and ruffling his hair, he saw you gaping in surprise and you finally let out a short laugh which turned into a fit of hysterical laughter that had you clutching your stomach and gasping for breath with tears rolling down your eyes-

“Not fair,” Wooyoung muttered, realising you had been joking. His messy hair and the grumpiness only made it funnier and you wiped your face.

“I just- I can’t believe,” you couldn’t stop laughing and Wooyoung folded his arm, looking away but amused. “You’re a scaredy cat. I can’t believe this, gosh.”

“Stop,” Wooyoung laughed, looking around. “What would someone think if they saw you laughing like this?”

“They’d take me to the hospital wing because it’s been a lifetime since I laughed like this,” you wiped your face, finally done laughing though you were still grinning shamelessly. “I’d thank you for that.”

Wooyoung smiled proudly at that. “An achievement at my expense. I like you, Princess.”

You stopped laughing, but you couldn’t stop your hand from going to his hair and tucking the few strands of stray hair back with his swept back hair- you mentally slapped yourself because this was very uncharacteristic of you, and it looked like Wooyoung also realised this- his lips were parted a little. You cleared your throat. “It’s late- we should get inside. The guards must be wondering what all this ruckus was about.”

“Definitely,” he breathed, getting up and offering you his arm for the walk back. “I’ll admit it- ignoring the little prank earlier, I’m feeling refreshed.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “I knew it was a good idea to meet you tonight.”

“See you at the ball? If you can spot me with a mask.”

You raised a brow- he really was testing the waters with that remark. “Let’s see if you can recognise me.”

Two could play the game- Wooyoung raised his brows in challenge, nodding. “Have a good night’s sleep, Princess.”

You arrived at the entrance- you two would part ways here. You looked at him and curtsied, smiling. He extended his hand and you, confused, offered yours but you chuckled when he kissed your knuckles like a gentleman, though your heart swooped. With another curtsy that was more sarcastic this time and made him laugh, you left for your room.

—--------------------

A night later, you received a message from the Wanderer’s Society that you were to assassinate another target- this time, not a Utopian- and retrieve some confidential documents regarding the private armies.

You left in the middle of the night with Yeosang, avoiding the eyes of all the guards- using the window to jump to the ledge of the room below you, Yeosang following since he was trained with you. Opening the window was no hard task- after entering the room that stayed locked for this purpose that it contained a secret passageway to right outside the castle, you passed undetected- or so you thought.

Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung had been working on some documents late into the night and had come out for a breather in the gardens, even though it was nearly 3 in the morning. He had made way to your ‘private’ garden that had a good view of your room- though it should have been the other way round. Though he hadn’t been hiding, he was hidden by the large tree and had very well spotted you and your Right Hand, Yeosang, jumping and entering the room below you with the stealth of cats. It immediately confirmed his suspicions about you.

Now he just had to see what he would do with that information. He found himself smiling- you were full of surprises, and he liked it.

—-----------------

“Do you think I can skip since no one is going to recognise me anyway with this monstrosity of a mask?” You wondered out loud, shifting your position to look at yourself in the mirror from various angles- your crimson gown was hugging your figure and blooming at the waist, tendrils of curled hair fell on your bare shoulders that revealed your well-defined collarbones. Your mask, however, was truly the highlight of the whole look- it was shaped with a butterfly wing that covered the left half of your face, all black and red. The red lipstick you wore and the smokey eyes completed the look.

Your maids really did an excellent job- you hadn’t dressed up like this in a while, and you felt excited. You touched your mask with your hands covered in satin black gloves, dotted with pearls. You were smiling at your reflection when you spotted Yeosang shaking his head.

“For someone who wants to skip, you sure look giddy.”

You grinned- “I don’t look very recognisable though, do I? I want to blend in and maybe surprise a few people.”

“I have a feeling there’s only one person in that list,” Yeosang teased. You were glad he couldn’t see your ears flush due to the mask.

“Well, forgive the secluded Princess for trying to make an effort to make friends,” you muttered, scanning Yeosang- he looked striking in his dark navy suit- blue so dark it almost looked black. His white mask was shaped like a cat and you found it truly fitting- it contrasted starkly with his blonde hair as well.

You whistled. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“No one,” he said nonchalantly. “As the Right Hand of the future Queen, I have better things to do.”

“That sounds like a backhanded insult to me,” you frowned.

Yeosang looked up after fixing his cuffs. “It is.”

You pouted and he finally laughed. “I’m kidding. Maybe if I’m lucky and not surrounded by people who want my advice, I’ll actually be able to have fun tonight too. And you have fun too- just don’t do anything stupid, will you?”

“Me? Stupid? Never,” you huffed, linking your arm with his as you readied to go.

“The last time we went to a ball, you got so drunk you almost told Colonel Park Seonghwa of Defence Affairs that he’d make a hot father figure-”

“I was drunk, and I’m pretty sure you made that up,” your cheeks flamed but you knew it was true and you were also aware that Yeosang was never going to let you live that one down. “Also, I still stand by that statement.”

“Maybe I should let your father know that he’s not doing a good job-”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “You know what I mean when I say a hot father figure? I mean that he’s- woah.”

Coincidentally, the very Colonel Park Seonghwa you were talking about was the first person you two spotted right outside the ballroom, having a conversation with some other men you didn’t care to recognise because woah.

“See?” You simply pointed at the man with his dark hair covering half of his white fox mask, looking absolutely gorgeous in his black uniform. “That’s what I meant.”

Yeosang scoffed and led you both to the men where you exchanged greetings politely- the poor man had no idea why you two were grinning like idiots. After being done with them, you finally entered the ballroom, pleased to see how the theme of it looked perfect. And the people- everyone was dressed extravagantly tonight and you’d blend right in.

“Let’s part ways now and enjoy ourselves,” you told Yeosang and he nodded.

“If I see you do something stupid, I’ll let Colonel Park know of your unholy intentions towards him-”

“That was only an observation, I wasn’t implying-”

“Good evening, Your Highness, Mr. Kang.”

You almost gave yourself a whiplash when you turned at the very recognisable voice of none other than Wooyoung, whose smirk told you he had heard some part of your conversation with Yeosang. Yeosang presumed to shake hands with him and you curtsied.

“You look incredible, your Highness.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you let your eyes slowly scan his figure- from the dark hair swept back with a few strands falling on his black fox mask that also complimented his facial structure, to the black three-piece he wore, one too many buttons undone. He looked…

Way better than Colonel Park, and you thought nobody could beat that.

“I’ll leave you two- Hongjoong’s seen me,” Yeosang said and sent a warning glare in your direction that only you caught, leaving you with Wooyoung who offered his arm.

“How do you like the evening so far, Mr. Jung?”

“It’s absolutely amazing- and Wooyoung, please,” he was still grinning widely.

“What’s so funny?”

“I happened to hear some part of your conversation, and I’m suddenly very interested in just what unholy intentions you possess for a certain Colonel Park-”

“Shush,” you laughed, “I possess no such intentions, thank you very much.”

“Mr. Kang clearly thought otherwise.”

“Mr. Kang is a know-it-all,” you said but sounded unconvincing and Wooyoung waited for you to explain. “Gosh, okay, I just find him hot sometimes. Is that so wrong?” Wooyoung burst out laughing and you rambled on. “It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything- I respect him- gosh, will you stop laughing?”

“I’m sorry, this is just… hilarious,” he wiped his eyes as best as he could with the mask. “Do you wish to make a move tonight, your Highness?”

“You know what, I’m going to ditch you and-”

“I’m joking,” he laughed, pulling you closer and making you almost bump into his chest, your breath hitching and he caught that- he smirked. “Well… so you don’t like him?”

“Nope,” you said with a pop of your lips. “Not my type.”

“Do you have a type?” Wooyoung sounded very interesting.

“I do know what’s not my type, and you and Colonel Park fall easily into that list-”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “Ah. But you’re my type.”

“Really?” You scoffed. “I bet I am. I am everyone’s type, mind you.”

Wooyoung, amused, nodded and you wondered if he was actually joking. “Well, what do you aim to do tonight, Princess?”

“Tonight?” You took a glass of wine from the waiter and Wooyoung did the same. You both clicked your glasses. “I just wish to blend in and have fun.”

“Would you like me to stay with you throughout the night?”

“Hmm…” you pretended to think. “What do you have to offer?”

“A dance, or two,” he smiled. “My company- is that enough?”

“Maybe,” you drank from your glass, licking your lips.

“Maybe you don’t find me hot enough, huh?” Wooyoung teased. “Maybe I should ask Colonel Park to accompany you-”

“No!” You almost yelled and he smirked- he got you. You weren’t sure what part of his two statements you said no to- maybe both. “If you make one more joke about Colonel Park, I swear to god I will-”

“Okay, okay,” Wooyoung interrupted, laughing. “So? Would the Princess like to have a dance with a common not-as-hot-as-Mr.-Park man like me?”

You glared at him but accepted his offer, scoffing. He put one hand on the lower part of your waist while the other held your hand. You blended in the crowd, dancing with many others, but you only looked at Wooyoung- his deep eyes pulled you right in, taking all of your attraction.

Wooyoung said something but you didn’t hear him over the loud live music playing in the background. He leaned forward, “Do you find me hotter?”

“Would you sleep better at night if I do?” You said right in his ear and he grinned shamelessly. As he drew back, your gaze fell on his chest peeking out from his coat. Wooyoung caught you checking him out but didn’t say anything, instead only tightened his grip on your waist a little as if reminding you of his presence.

“Maybe I will,” Wooyoung finally said after a moment. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. In fact, last night, I was relaxing in your garden- was it around 3? When I saw something very interesting.”

Your heart may have sank to your feet but you didn’t stop dancing. “Really? Care to share?”

Wooyoung was smirking. “The garden has a nice view of who jumps in and out of your window, Princess.”

You pursed your lips- to deny it outright would be a foolish move. “So? Did you see a cat or what?”

“Two cats,” he went on and your suspicions were confirmed, “In fact, one looked exactly like you.”

“Really?” You scoffed but paused when his hand travelled up your body and behind your head as if to lean in but instead, he undid your mask and caught it, placing it on your face like a regular mask- revealing your eyes only.

“Quite like this, I believe.”

You raised a brow but went on to do the same, undoing his mask and placing it over the lower half. “I think I may have seen someone like you too, the other day. In the night, on the street. Mismatched eyes and a mole- such a unique combination, isn’t it?”

Wooyoung perhaps, hadn’t expected you to recognise him or admit that you did so soon. You scoffed. “You should do a better job at hiding your very recognizable but hot features, Mr. Jung.”

He chuckled, turning you around so he could tie your mask. When he was done, he put his hands on your bare shoulders and leant in, his breath caressing your neck and his touch sending a shiver down your spine. He whispered in your ear, “I think we should keep wearing our masks.”

An offer- for you to keep wearing yours and for him to keep wearing his. As an answer, you turned and tied his mask too.

“I think we should only take off our masks when we’re alone, the two of us.”

An invitation. Perhaps getting to know Wooyoung would be beneficial- if not, you could simply kill him, though it would be such a shame-

“I agree,” he smiled. “Shall we have dinner now?”

—------------------

It wasn’t easy to talk about who you really were with the man who could very well turn your life upside down- you were the future queen of this nation. If the people learned that their future queen went around prowling at nights, assassinating people (even though for the sake of this very nation) and was a part of a ‘rebel’ group, you’d surely face unimaginable consequences.

It wasn’t easy to try to talk to Wooyoung about this, yet… when the two of you went to the balcony, standing by the railing and watching the full moon shine in its entirety, when Wooyoung turned and looked at you with the softest eyes, you couldn’t help but sigh. There was perhaps more to all of this than you thought, which was why you asked Wooyoung to go first.

“When I was eight,” he began, looking into the distance, “my parents were murdered out in the open due to a debt situation. I went around for months demanding justice for their lives- I practically lived outside the police station but because the people who had killed them had connections, they carried on living- to them, I was merely a bug. I had nothing left and I lost faith in my homeland- which was how I decided to go to Utopia. I couldn’t live here anymore- not like this.”

You bit your lips- what he went through was horrible. The fact that justice wasn’t served… no wonder he moved to another nation- the very nation that now attempted to take over Wonderland. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I wish things could have gone differently for you.”

Wooyoung passed a tight-lipped smile. “I came here for one purpose, Princess, and that is revenge. Not against Wonderland- there are still good people here. But revenge against the one who changed my life. He still lives, and I plan to kill him myself.”

“I could do that for you-”

“No, it’s something I must do,” he said with a tone of finality and you nodded, understanding.

“So why did you kill the Minister of Defence? Did it have something to do with…?”

“I came here for one purpose, but somehow… I got tangled in something else,” Wooyoung turned towards you. “But first, I must know who exactly you are. The information that I have… it could tip the scale if wielded wrongly. If in the right hands… it could be a means to peace between Utopia and Wonderland.”

You considered it, nodding slowly. “Have you heard of the Wanderer’s Society?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” he replied.

You looked around- there was no one in sight, but you kept your voice almost as low as a whisper. “The Wanderer’s Society has been here for decades- it serves only the interests of Wonderland. There’s no biasness, no foul play, only people who genuinely wish for the well-being of their nation. We mostly eliminate corrupt people- people who are beyond help. Traitors. We also carry out some other tasks. The Wanderer’s Society is very anonymous, and you never know who could be a comrade. For all I know… you could be one too.”

“Interesting,” Wooyoung nodded. “Though, I’m not.”

“You never know,” you smiled and he grinned. “I was very surprised when you killed the Minister instead of me. There’s only one person doing one task and I thought we messed up.”

“The thing is,” Wooyoung sighed, leaning forward, not noticing how your body tensed. “The Minister had a letter from the Minister of Defence of Utopia, a correspondence that would prove how Utopia aims to take over Wonderland with the help of foreign allies- they’re considering Eden since there are plenty of Eden natives here and most have a good position secured. People from Eden were also after him. I don’t know where he hid it, but I searched his residence and found nothing. Someone had already searched his office- I thought it was you.”

“Not me, not anyone from Wanderer’s Society as far as I know,” you shook your head.

“Then it’s still out there, waiting to be found,” Wooyoung’s eyes glinted. “What do you say, you and I go for an adventure tomorrow night?”

You considered, puckering your lips as you thought about it- do you really wanted to do this-

Wooyoung found himself gazing at your red puckered lips and he couldn’t help but bring his hand up to your face, hesitant as first as he saw you frown but he traced the side of your face gently, your gaze revealing nothing.

“Are you seducing me into saying yes?” You joked, though his touch made you feel… good.

Wooyoung laughed, putting a hand over yours that was on the railing and leaning dangerously close, inches away from your face, satisfied when he saw you flush. “If I actually seduced you… you wouldn’t be standing right now, Princess.”

You scoffed, though his words sent warmth coursing through you. “Someone’s very confident in themself.”

“Rightly so,” he brushed the tip of his nose with yours as if to give you a trailer of what might happen before he drew back as if nothing had happened, leaving your mouth parted in surprise- no one had ever dared to touch you like this unless you allowed it. No one. Yet…

“So?” Wooyoung raised a brow and you inhaled, clearing your throat.

“I’ll give you your answer over tea tomorrow- come to my chamber in the afternoon. We have things to discuss, Mr. Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung smiled, “I bet you’ll have a lot of questions tomorrow.”

You had.

After you had collected your thoughts, you realised that you needed to make sure whether you two could really work together. Whether he really served Utopia. Was he going to prove a valuable comrade or a backstabbing traitor? It was too big a risk.

And when you told Yeosang about what went on between you two, he had his head in his hands by the end of it.

“I say put poison in his tea, I’ll take care of the body. It’s simply too risky, Princess.”

“You’ll take care of the body?” You laughed, making Yeosang laugh too- he really went overboard with this one. “You cried after you accidentally stepped on a ladybird!”

“I was going to make it my pet! And that’s totally irrelevant by the way,” he swatted his hand furiously. “The point, you fool, is that if he spills this to someone, it could be the end of the Royal family. What leverage do you have over him, or are you stupid enough to make friends with him just because you find him hot?”

“I… never said he was hot,” you narrowed your eyes. “You think he’s hot too, don’t you?”

“I do not,” he stated, though the way he folded his arms made you smirk. “Well?”

You sighed, putting your feet on the table, your trousers riding up a little. “Leverage, huh? I’ll arrange for something- though, I don’t think he’s stupid enough to just tell someone who I am. Let me feel him out more today.”

“Just don’t do something rash,” Yeosang sighed, and you could tell he was genuinely worried for you not as the Princess but as your friend. “Act smart. Stay on your toes.”

“Got it,” you saluted and he finally relaxed a little. As if on cue, a knock sounded announcing Wooyoung’s arrival and with sigh, Yeosang got up, glaring at you once for good measure before he welcomed Wooyoung inside and disappeared. You took in his casual outfit, all black again, and watched him bow- more sarcastically than usual- before he settled down in front of you.

“Good afternoon to you too,” he finally said when you continued to watch him without saying anything.

“Tea?” You simply asked and he nodded, watching you mix it for him. “I’ve been doing some thinking… and wondering what I should do about you- honestly, I never expected to find myself in a situation like this, and you can’t blame me if I am sceptical about you or do not like this.”

“Of course,” he stifled his smirk- he could actually understand that you were in quite a difficult position right now. He also realised you needed something- an act of good faith, something that would make you take one step towards him, which was why he took out an envelope from his jacket and slid it towards you on the table. “I understand. Here’s something that might make you view me in a better light.”

You glanced at him once before leaning forward, unfolding the page from the envelope which was actually a list of people- some names you recognised while others were unfamiliar. “And this is?”

“The list of people that are spies for Utopia,” he revealed and you raised your brows in surprise- the few names you recognised… you hadn’t expected them to be on the list since they were natives.

“How did you get this information?”

“I have sources,” Wooyoung sounded cryptic and you didn’t push. “Let’s just say… Utopia has something like the Wanderer’s Society too, though I’m not a part of it. Just like you and other locals who wish for nothing but peace, people like that exist in Utopia too, who wish to get rid of their selfish leaders and representatives.”

“Why are you giving me this list?”

“I’ll let you know one day,” he smiled and you frowned- there was definitely a story he had to tell. “I’m interested to hear what you’ll do with this information, though.”

“Doing nothing would be the wisest, I’m sure you agree,” you said and he nodded. “Some of them might already be in our blacklist. You take out one spy, three more come, so really it’s no use though it’s definitely beneficial. Wonderland doesn’t wish to go to war with Utopia if things really do get worse, you must know.”

“Utopia thinks otherwise,” he shook his head. “They think they have the upper hand.”

“They’re made to think they have the upper hand so they become relaxed and lose sight of what they have to guard- which is when we catch them. Off-guard.”

Wooyoung sipped on his tea and you watched him, curiosity filling you. “You are an interesting man, Jung Wooyoung. I wonder just who you are.”

“Well,” he relaxed back, a haughty expression on his face. “Would you like to find out?”

“No, thanks,” you sipped on your tea and he chuckled. “You understand, Mr. Jung- Wooyoung,” you corrected when you saw his brow raise, “I risk too much being exposed like this. It doesn’t matter if we clicked- I’m the Princess and the future Queen of Wonderland. You are from Utopia. Despite all that you’ve given me- and I’m truly thankful for this, I have to be careful.

“But,” you smiled faintly when you saw his face fall and then lighten up when he noticed the growing smile on your face. “I am also a part of the Wanderer’s Society, and as someone with two very important roles, as someone whose decisions could change the fate of this nation… lead it to thrive or doom, I think… I’d like to work with you. At least until we find out just what the Minister of Defence had that got him killed by both Utopia and Wonderland.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit and he nodded, stifling his smile. “You can always kill me if things don’t work out.”

“Oh, definitely,” you scoffed. “Though… you can also kill me.”

“I think I’ll have more fun if you’re alive,” he bit his lips and you passed him a glare.

“Also… I think I should address your rather casual behaviour with me, though I think it’s a part of your personality at this point,” you shook your head and he laughed out loud, proving you right. “We’re… friends, I believe?”

“I believe so,” he almost said mockingly.

“Well, I’d like it if you stopped flirting shamelessly with me then,” you sipped on your tea to hide your incoming blush. “I don’t have the luxury to get myself involved in something like this with someone- with anyone, for that matter.”

“Ah, it’s a shame,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “I thought you were having fun.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” you casually said and he blinked at the fire in your eyes- was he tripping? “I just think we have better things to focus on right now. And… nothing is going to come out of flirting.”

“You say one thing,” he leaned forward, “but mean another.”

“Do I?”

“Well,” he nodded slowly, “I can’t help it. You’re surprisingly easy to get along with. And… One step at a time should be okay, no?”

One step at a time- what waited at the end of the road? You decided to dismiss it for now. “What are we doing tonight?”

The smirk on Wooyoung’s face made you instantly regret your decisions.

—----------------------

“You’re making it obvious that I am a woman!” You whisper-screamed.

“A woman should be able to show her charms-”

“I’m undercover, for goodness’ sake!” You slapped his hand away from where Wooyoung was tightening the weapons belt at your waist. He grinned shamelessly, drawing his mask up his face. You spotted the mole under his eyes peeking from the edge of the mask and you stood on your tiptoes, pulling him by his collar to fix his mask, muttering that he should do a better job at hiding it.

However, Wooyoung was flustered- flustered- because you had so casually tugged him down and were fixing his mask. It was like with the change of your persona, your level of comfortableness changed too. Wooyoung cleared his throat, “For someone who wanted me to stop flirting with them… you sure are doing a good job at it yourself.”

You locked eyes with him, stifling your smirk. “Let’s be professional about this.”

“You and I both know we’re being anything but professionals-”

“The path seems clear,” you peeked out of the room that was under your bedroom in the castle- it had a change of clothes for you which you thought you’d never need until tonight. “Let’s move- we’ll reach the end of the tunnel before the guards finish completing their rotations.”

Wooyoung saluted and you motioned for him to move the table lying in a corner. Wooyoung frowned- the entrance must be pretty small to hide beneath a table that didn’t even come up to his hips. He helped you move it and you uncovered the entrance, removing the rug and jumping in. Wooyoung followed, pulling the rug back first as per your instructions before jumping down, realising the passage started under the room.

“We’re blind right now,” Wooyoung commented.

“I don’t want to hear you screaming if you see a bug or anything, so just hold my hand and follow me.”

“Ah, so now you’re finding excuses to touch me after asking me to stop flirting with you- ow! That was unnecessary!”

You grinned- the slap was well deserved. You purposely trailed your fingers down sultrily before finding his hand and locking it with yours. Tugging at him once, you started moving- you had gone down this passage so many times that you did not need light to guide you. You only counted your footsteps and depended on your ears for the sounds around you to guide you.

By the time you could see light, Wooyoung’s heart was rapidly beating- not only because he had been walking in utter darkness but because you hadn’t once loosened your grip on his hand, and your thumb had been caressing his hand throughout the whole thing. He was pretty sure it was not on purpose- nothing you ever did was unintentional.

“Wait right here,” you finally dropped his hand- you could see the outline of him from the faint light coming from the slightly drawn lid at the entrance- you would have to jump or use help to get up- Yeosang was usually accompanying you at times like this. You looked around- there was nothing to help prop you up-

“Shall I help?” Wooyoung asked, realising what was going on.

“Please,” you nodded, and Wooyoung came forward, stretching his arms as if to hug you. You scoffed. “I thought you were going to offer to be my human stool.”

“I’ll be something better,” he said and before you could protest, he had picked you up without much effort and you stifled the yelp of surprise. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck for support and glared at him once before you stretched upwards, holding on to the slightly ajar exit and peeking out- no one in sight. You pulled yourself up with a little help from him and after making sure there really was no one in sight, you outstretched your hand which Wooyoung grabbed to prop himself up as well.

Without another word, you were guiding him along the walls of the castle until you reached a tree and signalled that this was where you were going to climb and exit the castle. As soon as you two jumped down, you ran for a bit until you reached a street and drew your mask down a bit, hat tipped down to cover most of your face and you two started moving at a slower, more casual pace.

“We need to blend in with crowds,” you reminded him. “How far exactly from here?”

“Not far, I know a shortcut,” he said and you followed him. A few minutes later, you two could spot the second residence of the Minister.

“You really think he hid the document in his family home?”

“In plain sight, probably,” Wooyoung nodded. “His wife is away for two days, so we should be left undisturbed, unless someone else is aware of the document’s existence.”

“Let’s move then.”

The two of you used the front door- like Wooyoung said ‘ain’t nothing like entering a stranger’s place like you own that land’. Wooyoung happened to be better at picking locks and he was done in mere seconds. After shutting the door behind you, you finally breathed, sliding your mask down.

“Let’s split- we can’t risk being here for too long.”

“It’s better to stick together because I still don’t trust you,” Wooyoung said and you stopped in your tracks, turning around and gaping at him.

“You don’t trust me?” You had to laugh. “Since when did we switch roles?”

“Just trust me on this one, stick together,” he patted your shoulder as he went past you, urging you to follow him while you just stood dumbly, unable to wrap your head around the existence that was Wooyoung’s.

“I’m positive I’ll never meet someone as frustrating and annoying as you,” you muttered as you started searching what seemed to be the master bedroom. The house didn’t look like someone actually lived in, since the only things for plain sight were either lamps or decoration items. You ran a finger on one of the tables- judging from the amount of dust, it didn’t look like anyone had lived here in the past few days.

“You’re right,” Wooyoung grinned as he opened the drawers, scanning once without moving anything before closing them and moving to the next set. “You’ll never meet someone like me.”

“I don’t want to meet someone else like you- one of you is enough,” you responded, bending down to look for some sort of a storage box under the bed, finding none. The way Wooyoung’s eyes glinted at that made you wonder if your remarks somehow fed him instead of wearing him down. It certainly looked like it.

“He won’t keep it in his bedroom, would he?” You wondered out loud. Plain sight- where would you hide a document that could change the world?

“Nothing here,” Wooyoung confirmed and the two of you moved out of the room to the kitchen, then to the study, rummaging through the documents carefully this time since there was a good chance plain sight meant this exactly. You checked behind the paintings and frames that hung the walls, Wooyoung went so far as to knock on surfaces and walls for any indication of a hidden storage but to no avail. You were beginning to think this trip was a waste.

“Well, at least we had fun,” Wooyoung said as you moved to the living room, the last place to search.

“Who had fun?” You frowned, “Not me.”

Wooyoung didn’t miss the ghost of a smile on your face- if you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t been out like this in years. The only outing you did was either official where you were acting as the Princess, or secret where you were undercover. This time was different- you were, you realised, relaxed, for once. And you did have a little fun too, with the non stop bickering that always took place when you were with Wooyoung- even though you weren’t one to talk so much, the teasing, the friendliness… you liked it.

“Wipe that smile off your face, will you? I know I'm pleasant company but… Don’t make me do something about it.”

You raised your brows in challenge. “What makes you think I’m smiling because of you?”

Wooyoung stopped rummaging through the contents of the bookshelf and turned towards you. “Why else would you be smiling right now, Princess?”

“Hmm,” you mused, “Maybe I’m thinking of a certain someone. I never said I was available, did I?”

Wooyoung’s lips quirked into a smirk yet again, and you watched him move towards you slowly in an almost feline movement, eyes never leaving yours as if trying to read your next move. You casually turned back to the cupboard that held some antique crockery, pretending to be uninterested until you felt him creep up on you and you turned to stop him but oh-

Oh. He was dangerously close, one hand resting on the glass of the cabinet door and you found yourself trapped but you matched his gaze as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t one to back away from a challenge, and usually it worked for you, but Wooyoung was impossible- he was like you, in that sense. You raised your brows- he was just standing there, gazing at you. “What?”

“What?” He asked back, tilting his head and you watched the dark tendrils of his hair fall on his forehead. “Feeling nervous?”

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Like this?” He brought his hand up and traced the outline of your face and your breath caught- he noticed it. He continued tracing his fingers down your face, down your neck and hooking his finger in the bandana that you had been using as a mask so he could cup your neck and when he caressed your jaw-

You involuntarily shut your eyes and bit your lips- you didn’t know what exactly it was about Wooyoung and being in proximity with him that drove you absolutely crazy, but here it was. It wasn’t like you hadn’t ever had fun with someone like this, but-

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been touched, Princess.”

His voice was barely a whisper as if urging you to tell him that secret. You opened your eyes with considerable effort and glared at him, though you wanted nothing more than to let him continue with his ministrations-

“Stop it- we’re here on a damned mission, not to fool around-”

“Ah… so you’ve been touched, but,” Wooyoung’s fingers were like feathers as he drew his hand back only to let it trace along your jaw until he held the tip of your chin and made you meet eyes with him, swiping a thumb over your parted lips. “Not like this, huh?”

It was then you realised your hands had been fisting the ends of his jacket. You sighed, letting your hands loose and held them awkwardly in the space between you before you put your hands on his chest, earning a surprised look from him. “This is the last time I’m asking you to stop fooling around-”

Wooyoung leaned forward a bit, his gaze fixed on your lips and it made your hands move forward to squeeze at his shoulders- whether to stop him or encourage him, you weren’t sure. He looked you in the eyes, wondering if he was doing the right thing- but your eyes, hell, they were wide with curiosity and innocence and a glint of the daringness you kept suppressed in you-

His eyes fell on the cupboard that you were flat against, and to his surprise, he spotted what looked like an edge of a page or an envelope peeking being a big plate resting flat against the wall of the cabinet. He scoffed, shaking his head and snaking an arm around your shoulder, bringing you forward and you almost slammed into him from the lack of balance. You were positive you were either going to pull his or your hair out of your head from the frustration but he pointed at the thing that caught his interest.

“Plain sight.”

You looked at him once before you opened the cabinet door and carefully pulled what was an envelope. You opened it and frowned- it had to be what you were looking for. Wooyoung and you quickly read the contents and you realised you were right, and more importantly, Wooyoung was right.

“The correspondence between two Ministers of Defence- planning to raise an army and take over Wonderland, not Utopia, so we can become one,” you scoffed in anger. “This is sick. Killing Wonderland’s Minister of Defence was never going to be enough, was it?”

Wooyoung nodded. “Though the current Minister Colonel Park is not a traitor unlike the previous one, there is an ample amount of people who plan to carry on instead of him. Let’s go back now- it’s dangerous to be here anymore.”

—------------------

Wooyoung watched you pace in front of the fireplace in your living room, your hands hooked back, still in the men’s clothes you’d donned earlier on your little ‘adventure’ with him. The letter was sprawled on the table in front of where Wooyoung sat. He was amused first but now he was starting to worry for you- you hadn’t said a single word ever since you came back. You hadn’t even dismissed him.

“What’s going on in your head, Princess?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Come on, talk to me.”

You only pursed your lips, shaking your head in disbelief. Wooyoung sighed, “You know you can talk to me. Or should I call Yeosang if you’d like to discuss this with him right now?”

“No, no need to wake him up-”

“Or maybe you should go to sleep now, it’s very late-”

“I just…” you paused, staring at the fire. “I don’t know what to do, Wooyoung. I'm the Princess of this kingdom, yet, at this moment, I find myself helpless, trapped from every corner. My father's health decreases with every passing day. There's no one I can trust, I-" you sighed deeply, looking up. "I just don't know how to fix this, where to begin-"

"Hey," Wooyoung got up and was behind you in seconds. "You're not alone, okay? Come on, look at me."

You stifled the burning behind your eyes as you turned, not meeting his gaze but Wooyoung put one hand on your shoulder and used the other to tip your chin up. His heart broke at how defenceless you looked in that moment.

"You're not alone, and you're a stronger threat to all those around you, you hear me? You now have knowledge, and there's no better weapon than knowing. Your enemy thinks you're unaware but you are aware of every little traitor in this land. And… that is the strongest you'll ever get, okay?"

You nodded and he continued. "You're not alone. You have your father- even if he isn't in good health, I'm sure he's an excellent adviser. You have Yeosang, you have people loyal to the crown and you, and… you have me, okay? I'm with you, every day from now on. And I'll help you fix this- for both my home and your home. For the two nations that were once friends, okay?"

You couldn't help the tear that slipped from your left eye. You swallowed the gratefulness- despite Wooyoung being… well, Wooyoung, he was right. You were not alone.

Wooyoung wiped the tear off your face with a warm smile. "Look at you. I'm privileged to see you like this."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed, attempting to push him away but he cupped your face.

"You're so strong, y/n," your heart melted at the way he said your name- it was the first time he didn’t call you ‘Princess’. "You're so brave for your kingdom. Stay this way. Don't break down in front of others- make me an exception. You're not alone, okay? Trust me."

You nodded and he scanned your face, smiling faintly before he brought you in for a hug, his arms secure around your upper back, one hand holding your head to his chest. You could hear his heartbeat and the cackling of the fire and you thought it was the most beautiful combination of sounds you had ever heard. You didn't hesitate this time as you wrapped your arms around his waist and the two of you sighed into each other.

"Thank you… for everything," that was the only thing you could say- you would never find the words to thank him properly. "And… sorry for doubting you so much. You haven't let me down."

"And I hope I never will," he replied. "Does that mean you like me now?"

"I still think you're impossible," you broke apart, grinning. "But… I think I have no choice but to tolerate you now."

"Excellent," he squeezed your shoulders and you told him he should go to sleep now. He went back to the table to pick his stuff, looking at you one last time before he left.

"Another thing I should make clear before this moment ends," he licked his lips. "I don't fool around, Princess."

It took you a moment to realise what he was talking about but the flush that crept up your neck indicated to him that you made the connection. You rolled your eyes and he laughed.

"Okay, maybe I do fool around a little bit," he shrugged, but his gaze was suddenly hotter. "But… never with you. You keep that in your mind. See you," he tipped his hat and left, leaving you breathless.

—-----------------

If you had thought that having the list of spies prowling around in Wonderland would make things easier for you, you were so wrong.

If you had also thought that you won’t be getting any new surprises, you had no idea what you were in for.

It happened too quickly to process- after obtaining the document, you had a couple of peaceful days- as peaceful as they could be with the usual routine, which was now more meetings with the team residing in your castle, another mission to assassinate someone who you were told was ‘disrupting the peace between Utopia and Wonderland’, and lastly, Wooyoung being himself- now a comforting yet annoying presence.

It amused you- how a person could be so comforting to be around, how his bickering both annoyed yet healed something you didn’t know needed healing. Just what had you been missing out on? You wondered more with each passing day as you spent more and more time with Wooyoung.

It was mostly investigating the matters between Wonderland and Utopia in a new light, since now you knew just who was plotting your nation’s demise while who actually worked hard to protect it. You and Wooyoung spent most of your time together with Yeosang, etching out plans that you needed to get approved by Hongjoong and the King before you could proceed- this wasn’t something you could do without their approval- especially when they always helped you see the situation in a different perspective.

Yeosang was no stranger to the new ‘friend’ you had made. Though he was surprised at first at how you and Wooyoung had quickly bonded to this level, he didn’t mind it at all- he always thought you were too stiff and now that someone could put you so easily in your place, he enjoyed it, though he didn’t make an effort to hide the things he’d do to Wooyoung if he ever backstabbed them. Wooyoung, being Wooyoung, enjoyed the threats though he knew Yeosang wasn’t bluffing at all.

Another-perhaps pleasant- surprise was how well Wooyoung and Yeosang clicked and how quickly and effortlessly they teamed up to put you in a corner. Especially when you had a point.

“I didn’t think you two would be dumb enough to not see this,” you had to stop yourself from throwing the pages at their thick hay-stuffed skulls- you were positive the pair possessed nothing that resembled a brain. “This letter literally screams treason!”

“We cannot interpret it this way just because we know the person who sent it is a spy,” Yeosang began. “Think about it- now that you know, you’re going to think every letter they send you is a threat-”

“And every meal you share with them is poisoned,” Wooyoung completed and Yeosang looked gratefully at him. “Come on, Princess. They’re playing with us- I agree that we should not slack off at a time like this but we need to be smart about this.”

“I’m the only one being smart about this,” you huffed. “My plan to block the special treatment he’s been getting is enough to make him question his place- he’s the Head of the Village, outright demanded the funds to make the village run better, yet I haven’t seen significant progress- sooner or later, I would have done this.”

“If he becomes suspicious, it might turn out bad, that’s all I’m saying,” Wooyooung sighed, slumping back.

“See? Here’s one smart person in this room,” Yeosang said- that was where you lost it and it nearly ended in a cat fight.

However, now that you stood outside your father’s chamber, your heavy heart threatening to suffocate you, hand outstretched to knock at his door but still in the air, you couldn’t help but look back at those times as perhaps the last time you could fool around- everything was going to go downhill from now. You didn’t want to be a pessimist, but-

“Princess-” Hongjoong opened the door, noticing your outstretched hand. He almost looked at you in pity before he motioned for you to come inside. “He’s not doing well- try not to make him too worried, will you?”

“Thank you for looking after him,” you said and Hongjoong only patted your back before you knocked at your father’s door and entered.

“Come in, don’t keep standing there and looking at me like that,” your father chuckled and shifted to sit up a little. Your heart broke at how weak he sounded and how pale he looked. You cleared your throat before you brought a chair to sit in front of him.

“Are you feeling better now?” You bit your lower lip to stop it from quivering- you couldn’t be weak in front of him.

“Ah, it's old age,” the King sighed.

You let out a short laugh. “You’re only in your early fifties- that’s not even that old.”

“You know your mother took the life in me with her when she passed away,” his eyes softened and you had to clench your fists- he really wasn’t feeling well after all. “Anyways, report to me now.”

“I suggest you take your minds off the matters until you get better-”

“I am still the King, child,” he said and your brow raised at how strong he sounded all of a sudden. “With the enemies making daring moves like these, I cannot simply rest without doing anything.”

You nodded. “Colonel Kwon has infiltrated Wonderland with an army of 20,000 under the pretence of providing aid to Wonderland, claiming that they fear that Eden might attempt to take over Utopia and Wonderland both- might have been believable if they hadn’t wrecked such havoc. We lost plenty of soldiers guarding the borders- the Colonel claims that they denied access even when he possessed the official pass, but my sources tell me they forced an entry and killed anyone who dared to stop them. The villagers have fled in fear so they’ve made home there. I have corresponded with thePrince of Utopia and he claims ignorance, making some lousy excuse of ‘ambitious’ soldiers and whatnot, but I know for sure that this was planned and they will only keep getting more aggressive.”

“I see,” the King pondered over it for a moment before he asked, “What do you think should be done?”

“We’re in a pickle,” you sighed, “Driving them out or worse would be declaring war to Utopia. Allowing them to do as they please would be the end of Wonderland. I’ve stationed some of my best to monitor the situation and try to calm things down, but we need to do something about this.”

“I agree,” your father’s eyes gleamed as he looked at you. “You’ve done well, handling the situation. Try not to let them reach anywhere near the Capital- we’ll work on a solution in the meanwhile. I have my sources in Eden too- they owe me one. Maybe it’s time to call that favour.”

“Keep it for now,” you straightened. “I’ll handle this, and I’ll make sure Colonel Kwon regrets ever stepping into my home in this manner.”

Your father laughed heartily at that, patting your thigh as he shook his head in amusement. “Make me proud, child. I know you will.”

Your heart swelled- something about his tone told you he wasn’t expecting to live long now. You wanted nothing more than to climb in his arms like the little child that you once were, hug him tightly as if he could make all your fears disappear. Instead, you only put a hand over his and squeezed it once. “I don’t want to see you worry about this too much. Please try to relax- I’ll handle this. Please- for my sake.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Go along now. I need to sleep.”

You got up and bowed deeply before you left the room, barely stifling the sob that threatened to creep up as you made way to your chamber, not far from your father’s. You shut the doors behind you and sank to the floor, trembling as you hugged yourself.

You didn’t want to be weak, but… the way your father had talked to you and touched you so affectionately tonight- it was so out of character and it made you fear for his life. Anger consumed you as you thought of that damned Colonel- who did he think he was, marching and taking over your home as if he had every right? He was merely a colonel, he had no right-

“Y/n?” A soft voice sounded and you paused, not daring to look up. You heard the sound of footsteps approaching cautiously, stopping in front of you. “Yeosang told me I could find you here, I was waiting- are you all right?”

“I- I think you should leave for now,” you managed to say, the crack in your voice not helping at all. “I need to think.”

“Come on, you’re making me worried,” Wooyoung sank down in front of you, hesitantly putting a hand over your arm and you flinched- you couldn’t look at him right now. “Talk to me. Please.”

“Leave, Wooyoung,” you said, hating that you sounded so weak in that moment- what was with him and you always breaking down in front of him? “I don’t want you to see me like this. Please.”

“Well…” Wooyoung sounded… amused? “You’re making it hard for me-”

“Wooyoung-” you warned.

“You’re literally blocking the only door, Princess,” his voice was low and you internally cursed yourself. “Come on. Talk to me. I’m not leaving you like this.”

You sighed deeply. “My father’s not doing well, Wooyoung, and I… I don’t know what to do. I can either be a Princess or be his daughter- he’s making me be the Princess. I don’t want to leave him alone, I-” you paused, squeezing your eyes shut before continuing. “He’s making me do it.”

You made yourself look up at him- you prayed the dim lights in this part of the room could hide your surely reddening eyes. You could tell Wooyoung was trying to understand how he could be of help to you. You rested your head against the door, looking away from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You could practically hear him smile. “How is your relationship with… the King? As your father?”

It was such a candid question that it made you smile. “He’s… he’s been there for me when my mother passed away. He’s been both a mother and a father to me, if that makes sense. He doesn’t always make it obvious, but he cares too much. And…” you sighed deeply. “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him.”

Wooyoung sat cross-legged in front of you, sliding his hands on your own trembling ones and squeezing them. “Then he’s a great father and a great King- it’s hard to be good at both.”

“This attack, Wooyoung,” you looked at him, his eyes the softest you had seen so far. “It’s done more than just break Wonderland’s spirit. It’s broken my father’s too. And I’m going to make sure Colonel Kwon regrets ever stepping into my home like this.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung nodded. “I’m with you, y/n.”

“I just can’t believe-” you paused, looking up as you inhaled- you had already broken down in front of Wooyoung once. You did not want to do that again. “I-”

“Hey, we’ll work together, okay?” He tugged at your hands, making you look at him but you were afraid you would start crying if you did. “We’ll hatch a plan. I’m sure the Wanderer’s Society is already on it. And Colonel Kwon… I know just how selfish he is, and when he gets ambitious like this, it is his strength but also his weakness. I’ll talk to him- as a Utopian too.”

“Thank you,” you managed to say and you finally looked at him. “I still don’t understand why you’re willing to do all of this with me. Why you still haven’t sold me out.”

Wooyoung raised a brow at that. “Maybe I just like you as a person, Princess. Ever thought about that?”

“Shut up,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes but your scoff turned into a faint smile when you watched him caress your hands so affectionately. His eyes were dark as he glanced at you before he kissed both of your knuckles, his lips almost like the touch of a feather, and you felt butterflies in your stomach with an intensity you hadn’t felt before. His gaze alone- the thing you feared to identify as longing in them- it left you a confused mess.

“Don’t let your anger consume you,” his voice was barely a whisper. “And don’t hold back your emotions- not in front of me. I don’t mind and I certainly do not judge, so feel free to use my shoulders, just don’t cover me in your snot-”

You smacked him on his chest and he shrieked but chuckled. You pursed your lips, not having any of that- just how was he able to make you want to kiss him and kill him in moments?

With that thought exactly, you realised that you did want to kiss him. Oh, you wanted to touch him and feel him. You were sure he wanted to too, but you knew that the two of you were still figuring it out- more you than him. And now was certainly not a good time-

You realised your hand was still hovering in the air- as if to hit him- when Wooyoung raised a brow in question. You were sitting so close to him, your position a bit awkward, but you only let your fisted hand rest on his shoulder, wondering just what you should do.

“You do realise that you’re making me confused when you say stuff like that, don’t you?”

“And… you do realise you make me confused when you look like you want to kill me one second and… do some other unholy things the other second?” Wooyoung retorted and you laughed.

“Wooyoung, I-”

“Shh,” he shook his head, smiling warmly. “I’m not asking anything of you, Princess. At this moment… I’m just asking you to use me as you like. I’m asking you to lean on me.”

You bit your lips as you looked at him. You could do that. So you did- you crawled forward and nestled yourself in his lap and rested your head in the crook of his neck as you hugged him, breathing in the scent of him- something like sandalwood. You felt his breath hitch but didn’t comment on it, pleased when he relaxed and wrapped his arms around you, rocking you back and forth. You leaned further into him and buried your nose in the crook of his neck, making him laugh a little.

“You’re tickling me!”

“Am I?” You murmured, blowing on his exposed neck and he shook his head.

“Don’t send an execution order if I tickle you back.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” you smiled, your hands lazily wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “You know… I wanted to hug my father today too- tell him that he needn’t take this so hard on himself. That it would be fine. But… he’s not used to that sort of affection from me, and neither am I used to giving it out. It would have been awkward and it would have certainly made either him or me cry- I could tell. I held back- he wants me to be a Princess right now, not a daughter.”

“You don’t have to be a Princess in front of me, you know?” He said after a moment and you drew back a little to look at him. “You’re only human after all. You can’t make everything right and not break apart.”

“Thank you,” your voice was barely a whisper and you let him hold you for a long time.

Wooyoung didn’t realise when exactly you fell asleep but you did- and it broke something in him. You, all vulnerable, sleeping in his arms- he nearly groaned at the sight of it. He licked his suddenly dry mouth and drew strands of your hair away from your face, noticing you didn’t even stir. Carefully, he picked you up and carried you to your room, glad you were only wearing a simple gown and not some ruffly monstrosity that you sometimes had to wear for official meetings as he set you down on your bed. You finally stirred but Wooyoung was quick to be by your side and caress your head, lulling you back to sleep. He left with a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As he walked out of your chambers, he realised how deep in a mess he was. He would soon have to choose one side- Utopia or Wonderland.

The last thing he wanted to do was let you down.

—-----------------

-> part 2

#now realising this is 20k words and they still haven't kissed oops #istg they'll kiss right in the beginning of the next part just wait #i like keeping things slow paced you know for the extra b u r n #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung angst #jung wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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