#m: wonwoo

[goldenhourology]

SLACKING OFF.

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers

summary: being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.

warnings: handjobs, fingering, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, missionary position, belly bulge, grinding, praise, wonwoo is a service top!!, multiple sex scenes, jerking it in an corporate office bathroom lol, drunk horniness, miscommunication, reader is learning how to open up<3, mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.2k

note: hello new ppl, welcome to the first goldenhourology one shot ✨ I've written things in the past, but this is my first really long one shot. the longer it got, the more I stressed out lol. but I've seen a lot of people do this 20k word one shots, so I thought I'd try my hand at it! also idk much about tech, so if I got anything wrong in this, pls ignore it. thank you to anyone who gives this a read!!

in rotation: picture you, chappell roan / dress, taylor swift / valentine, laufey / diamond boy, sza

Some said your late 20s were the last few years of fun before you fully allowed yourself to be an adult, so why were you always drowning in work?

It didn’t help that you were an executive assistant in one of the biggest software companies in the U.S. When you took the job, surely, you should’ve known that you’d be signing up for an exorbitant amount of work, ranging from invoice management, planning travel for your boss, to even research for senior managers. Despite the constant stress you were under, you liked this job. You liked the trust that your boss had in you. You liked that they let you be independent and figure things out on your own.

And when you couldn’t … you simply contacted IT.

It helped that a senior IT specialist sat right across from your cubicle.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the most talkative cubicle buddy, nor was he the most pleasant. He did his best to give you a smile every once in a while, but he had to fight the urge to throw his head in his hands whenever you send him a message on Slack. You didn’t typically need help with anything, except in the area of tech. You were so organized and incredibly smart – it didn’t take an idiot to see that – but god forbid, sometimes … you could be so technologically averse.

Maybe he just had too many years of schooling under his belt – he was 28 now with both a Bachelors and Masters in Software Engineering – but you surprised him with some of your requests. Sometimes, you’d delete files by accident, need to renew your subscription to important apps, even locked yourself out of your own computer once. He had interns underneath him that could be available to help you, but you had consistently messaged him. And he sat directly across from you. No matter what, it was always going to be Wonwoo that had to help you. Fate had made sure of that.

There were times that you realized you were bothering him. Either you heard him curse from behind his extremely large monitor or he adjusted his glasses so much that you thought he might break them in half. And to be honest, you liked being in control of your own work, so you’d try to find a solution. Typically, solving your own tech problems left your computer in more disarray.

And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.

You [10:58 AM]: Morning, Wonwoo!

You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up

You [10:59 AM]: Boss sent me some documents that were password protected, but he’s away for the next two days and not answering his phone

You [10:59 AM]: So I might’ve downloaded some software to help me unlock it and I think it’s attempting to hack my email as we speak

You [11:01 AM]: I’m so so sorry! I didn’t want to bother you

Jeon Wonwoo [11:01 AM]: I’ll be right over.

Luckily for you, Wonwoo was able to fix the problem and stop your email from getting hacked. Whoever was the owner of that virus-filled program you tried to download didn’t gain access to those password-protected documents before Wonwoo secured your computer. But it was close. Too close.

Not only that, but he had a multitude of other projects today. He had to train two new interns … have one of those annual performance reviews with the head of IT … change over a dozen new passwords for people … and then he found out that they’re changing servers. Which meant everything backed up on their former server had to be transferred over to the new one. Fucking great.

He wasn’t sure how many times he sighed today, but it had to be over a hundred. When he couldn’t stand to be sitting anymore, he stood up and paced around the third floor of the building. Today felt like the longest day of his life. And there was a mustard stain on his green sweater vest. And he got a shitty haircut a few days ago. And he probably needed new glasses because he was getting headaches. 

It was time for a coffee. As well as a day off.

Coincidentally, you were also headed to the break room that afternoon in need of a green tea. You were about to walk in when you heard your cubicle mate letting out a frustrated breath while talking to another IT specialist. He was clearly fed up about something, or maybe just tired of this day. You hid next to the doorframe, and just when you thought it was safe to step out, you heard your name fall from his lips.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” Wonwoo complained, hands smacking against his sides. “Seriously, it’s mind boggling. I’m pretty sure she has her Masters in Business Administration, but she does this shit that just makes me … Oh my god, she literally tried to download some faulty software off the internet today, instead of just asking me or someone else for help.” 

“Oh, yeah, everyone wants to turn to you when you got that attitude, man,” someone – Lee Seokmin, maybe? – joked.

“You get what a mean.” Wonwoo watched the first couple drips of shitty office coffee fill his cup. “I was able to save her computer, yeah, but it would be nice to avoid an emergency for a day.”

Seokmin slapped him on the back. “The joys of working in IT.”

You huffed, stalking away from the break room and back to your desk. There was only so much office gossip you could take, especially when it involved you. As soon as you sat down, you finished typing up an email at the loudest volume possible, your fingers basically punching themselves into the keys. You heard Wonwoo slide back into his desk chair, the fresh smell of burnt coffee wafting across to you, and he didn’t say a thing. Not that he would ever know you had eavesdropped. But not a “hello” or “how has computer been after this morning?” He went back to work, burning his tongue on the overly hot liquid.

Maybe Wonwoo was right; maybe you did need to just stop overthinking and ask for help instead of figuring stuff out on your own. Or maybe this asshole needed an attitude check.

You decided to not bother him for the rest of the week, complaining to your friends that Friday night about your shithead of a coworker. They said he might be looking out for you in his own fucked up way. You said he might just be an asshole.

Come Monday morning, you had realized your ignoring hadn’t effected him at all. He still sent you the same small smile as he walked in and sat down across from you. Could he really not see how pissed you are, or had the facade you’d crafted for so long as the perfect corporate employee work too well?

You should just be upfront with him, take control of the situation. Like always. 

You [9:44 AM]: I heard you in the break room a few days ago.

You [9:44 AM]: I just didn’t want to bother you. That’s why I had tried to figure out the issue on my own. Didn’t realize that was a crime

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: You weren’t supposed to hear that.

You [9:47 AM]: Well, I did

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Not that it excuses anything, but there’s so much going on at work. It wasn’t all about you. I was complaining just to complain and I didn’t mean any of it.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.

You [9:51 AM]: Wow

Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?

You [9:51 AM]: You’ve never come across as someone who can apologize well

Jeon Wonwoo [9:52 AM]: Are you sure you aren’t projecting right now? We sit across from each other. I’ve seen how stubborn you are.

You [9:53 AM]: I thought you were apologizing to me????

Jeon Wonwoo [9:56 AM]: I’m sorry. Again.

You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven

Jeon Wonwoo [10:09 AM]: Can I make it up to you with a coffee?

You didn’t go out on dates. The last one you went on was … years ago, probably in undergrad. Once you go for your Masters, all energy to date goes out the window.

Not that this was a date. This certainly was not a date.

This was an apology coffee after work, since the two of you seemed to have an affinity for caffeine at late hours.

Even if, per chance, he thought this was a date … you’d eventually have to let him down easy. It probably wasn’t in your best interest to date someone like Jeon Wonwoo, but you’d also closed yourself off from love for far too long. It wasn’t that you didn’t get lonely – you did, very much, especially on late nights where it was just you and your favorite vibrator – but it was just … scary. Opening yourself up. Losing just a small semblance of control. You weren’t even sure you could physically allow yourself to do that after being alone for so long. 

Your heart had been tucked away so many years ago, locked inside a box, and then in another box, and so on. With the final lock being so complicated that only someone who knew the last four of your social security number could answer. No one was opening up that box. Your heart was safe from the outside world.

You were independent, reliant on only yourself, and you liked it that way.

Once he had gotten both your coffees, he sat down next to you at a hightop table, folding his winter coat over the back of his chair. He had managed to remember your latte order and it tasted perfect. Your eyes flitted up, ogling him for a moment. When you’re not under the fluorescent lights of the office, Wonwoo was … attractive. To say the least. Maybe he always had been and you were too blind to see it. Maybe his face was perpetually hidden by his monitor.

His hair was tousled in the way that it looked effortless, even if he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed. He had a tendency to wear sweater vests with white t-shirts underneath, or button-downs with jeans. But it was only when he showed off his forearms that you realized he was surprisingly built underneath his oversized clothes. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. You liked his glasses too; they always sat on the edge of his nose. A thin line was etched into both lenses, suggesting age, but they framed his face well.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, knocking you out of your stupor.

You blinked and looked down at your coffee, removing the lid. “Oh, I … uh … good question.”

“Listen,” he started, eyes flickering to his hands, “I’m really sorry about what I said –”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“– And I understand if you want to go to HR about this –”

You shook your head. “Wait, what? Why would I do that?”

He glanced around, until finally, his eyes were on you again. And suddenly, you were wondering if his eyes were dark brown or the color of cinnamon. “Isn’t that what any rational person would do?”

He had you stumped there. If this were a different situation … you probably would do that. “I’m not going to tell HR about this, Wonwoo. You apologized and said you didn’t mean it. I have to trust that.” And you didn’t trust lightly – hardly at all – but something about Wonwoo made you feel like it could be easy with him.

“We all have shit days,” you added, taking a sip of the scalding hot latte. “You have a ton of stuff on your plate. Doesn’t give you an excuse for what you did, but we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I have so many things to organize throughout the day, and sometimes it gets the better of me. Remember when I had book that last minute trip for our CEO and I was on the phone for hours with Delta and Suzanne in finance had the nerve to start bothering me about some invoice? I lost it on her for a straight minute.”

“Oh, my god, yeah,” he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory resurfaced. “Her eyes almost came out of her skull at your reaction. To be fair … Suzanne needs to be knocked down a peg sometimes. She always blames IT when she can’t get into her email, but it’s because she’s constantly typing her password with one letter off.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Your hand hit the tabletop a few times as you let your workplace personality fade in front of your coworker. “Those new IT interns don’t know what’s coming once Suzanne comes for them,” you joked.

“The IT interns don’t know anything. Period.” He jabbed his finger onto the table. “I mean, they’re interns, but it takes so much time to train them. If I have to teach them JavaScript one more time …”

“Say it, Jeon Wonwoo,” you egged him on, a chuckle filtering at the end. “What will happen if you have to teach those good for nothing interns JavaScript?”

A slow smile made it’s way onto Wonwoo’s face, and … damn, you were actually a really cool person. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you what will happen …”

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: Did you bring lunch today?

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: I just found this new cafe down the street and was thinking about grabbing something there in a few. Did you wanna come?

You [12:14 PM]: Do you think they have a chicken salad sandwich on the menu

Jeon Wonwoo [12:15 PM]: I can only assume so?

You [12:15 PM]: SOLD

You both go out for more coffees, before and after work. You found yourself excited to wake up early, to meet up with Wonwoo at the coffee shop located in the lobby of your work building. Always getting there before him, you typically ordered two coffees – remembering his order to a T – and when he walked in five minutes late, he promised to buy the next round. You never let him.

You began planning lunches over Slack, discussing what was on special at that cafe he found last month. In fact, you two talked most of the day on Slack. A message from you had once gotten on his nerves, and now … he was eager for it. Eager to hear your thoughts throughout the day, excited to talk about what new dumb question an intern asked him today or to see more pictures of your grandma’s cats.

And Wonwoo … Wonwoo was easier to get along with than you thought. You just had to peel back the layers before he finally got comfortable, and honestly, you could relate. To be fair, you had a few more layers than he did, but he was slowly learning that you were more than what he perceived. After that first coffee, he realized how funny you were, and then a couple lunches later, he learned you were an avid romance and thriller reader – and nothing in between. It wasn’t until last week that he finally cracked you open enough to learn about your love for Elder Scrolls Online. He was sure you were joking at first, but when you clarified how serious you were, he almost fell off his chair.

“I’m not shocked that you play it,” he said over coffee one morning. “What I’m shocked at is that you’d rather play Elder Scrolls Online and not Skyrim.”

“Of course, you would say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I don’t really have an interest in the game universe. I started playing Elder Scrolls Online to relieve stress while applying to colleges, and then I just … didn’t stop.” You shrugged.

Much to his own surprise – even with your take on Skyrim – Wonwoo thoroughly enjoyed your company. It was insane that you both had spent almost two years sitting across from each other before realizing how much you liked each other. Words always left unsaid. Eyes staying glued to computers. It had been a routine for you both that you had never strayed from – until now. So many tech requests over Slack … and now he was actively looking forward to work everyday. To seeing you. To talking with you. 

You.

Jeon Wonwoo realized how much he liked stockings. Specifically, he liked the way you looked in them.

And that’s when things got dangerous.

He started to notice the days you would wear them, and then concluded which day you did laundry. You liked wearing blouses with a pencil skirt and stockings on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Those were now his favorite days. 

Wednesdays you’d wear dress pants and maybe a sweater, whereas on “Casual Fridays,” you were clad in a t-shirt with a cardigan layered and jeans. You always looked nice at the office, but those stocking days … they were getting to him.

Sometimes, he’d watch the way you walked away from your desk – either to the Boss’ office or to the finance department – and he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your legs. You had these stockings that had a slight tear in the back, and he wondered if you realized, or was he just too much of a perverted loser to be the first person to notice? He wanted to purchase a new pair for you. He wanted to replace all your stockings and buy you enough that you could wear them with a skirt everyday, just so he could see you in them.

Maybe he was a loser.

You looked up at him, even in heels, and you had this way of smiling at him that left him questioning why you liked hanging out with him in the first place. His personality couldn’t be that charming to warrant your attention. But you were warm – even when your hands were perpetually cold – and kind, never straying once he was in front of you. And you had this lip gloss that stained your lips magenta and made them shine. Even in the dim fluorescent lights. When his chair turned just slightly and he let his eyes glaze over you, one finger rubbing at his top lip, he couldn’t help but be curious if the gloss had a flavor to it … and then, he’d get distracted by your legs again. And your blouse, and your hair. 

Don’t even get him started on the way you smelled.

Maybe he was a loser. No, he was most definitely a loser. 

It was a Thursday night. Almost 7 PM and you were still at the office. You had plans to go out tonight to celebrate your friend’s new job, but you ended up having to cancel when the Boss placed a stack of paperwork on your desk before leaving the building at promptly 6 o’clock. Why he couldn’t have given you all these invoices and memos hours ago was beyond you, but you weren’t even halfway through this stack and the janitor was now mopping beside you.

When a Slack notification appeared on the side of your monitor, you didn’t even read it before spinning around in your chair. There Wonwoo was, leaning back in his own chair while a progress window ticked on one of his dual monitors. You raised a brow. “I didn’t even hear you over there,” you commented. “Why are you still here?”

“A month or so ago, the IT head told me that we’d soon be transitioning servers, so all of our backups and data need to be transferred over to this new server.” He explained, adjusting his glasses and glancing over at the progress window. It changed from 23% to 24% finished. “Someone had to be the lucky person to stay after hours and make sure it all went smoothly.”

You twirled a pen in your two fingers and crossed your legs. “Oh, that sucks.” Your skirt hiked up a little, and just that small flash of exposed skin had Wonwoo averting his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re still here because of that.” He nodded towards the pile of paper.

“No, no, obviously I love being here after hours with you,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone, but it still ignited a short spark of hope within him. (Wonwoo, can you chill the fuck out? He chastised.) “You know the Boss has a penchant for letting invoices pile up. He just so happened to let that pile end up on my desk before he left today. And some of these needed to be filled out …” Your eyes skimmed the first paper on your desk. “Oh, yesterday!”

Wonwoo offered to help you while also keeping watch of his computer – 28% finished – but you insisted you could handle it. “I already bother you enough during work hours,” you said before turning back to your desk. He knew by now that you were simply too stubborn to give up control of the project. Once you had started it yourself, you needed to see it through. He wasn’t sure if you two were close enough that he could be completely honest, that he could tell you that it was fine to let go this independence that you kept on a tight leash. He was willing to help. (God, was he willing.) 

But he chocked it up to telling you once that you were “so fucking stubborn.”

Your reply had come in the form of a swift kick to his knee.

Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.

It was 10 PM and you were just about finished with the paperwork, but you were running on fumes. Just a few memos left and you’d be done. To get you through the next hour, you needed something. So you headed to the break room, suddenly craving some burnt workplace coffee. (What was it about this coffee maker that gave it such a distinct burnt flavor? You’d never know.) After placing the pod of coffee grounds in the slot and filling the water, you pressed the start button, turning around with a huff to see Wonwoo striding into the break room. A crushed, styrofoam coffee cup was clutched in his large hand before he tossed it in the barrel beside you. 

“How’s your transfer going?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Coffee had started to pour from the machine and into your cup.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s at 88% now. Hopefully should be done in the next hour.”

“Me too, if all goes well.” A sigh escaped your lips. “I still have a few more papers to fill out. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, but I haven’t looked through them all yet.”

Wonwoo stepped forward, reaching in the direction of the styrofoam cups. “If you had let me help you –”

You tried sidestepping out of the way to give him some room, but his hand brushed against your arm anyway. Your chin tilted up as your eyes met his, back pressing against the counter. “It wouldn’t have helped,” you finished for him.

His arm paused mid-air, and he looked down at you. Eyes narrowing, he replied, “You’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You have this desperate need to be in control of everything.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Your tone took a hard edge. The last thing you wanted right now was to put effort into arguing, but you were tired and already on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ve relied on myself for as long as I can remember. I like being in control. I like being stubborn. If I didn’t do most things myself –”

“You ask me to fix something on your computer at least once a day.”

“That’s different.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, and you noticed then just how close he was. Your chests were practically touching. “Sometimes you do try to figure things out yourself and almost break your hard drive.”

His progress window was probably at 93% finished now. He should head back to his desk, but his feet stayed planted right where they were.

“Why does it matter?” You exhaled loud, your hands slapping against your hips. “Do you want an award or something? You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. I’m not perfect, but I … I like things the way they are.” Change is scary, you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare voice it out loud.

He was so close that he could smell your perfume. The scent of lavender mixed with orange blossoms and vanilla filled his nostrils, swirling around his brain. He could get addicted to this smell, to you. Maybe he already was. When his eyes roamed down to your legs and he saw his favorite pair of stockings on you, he damn near collapsed. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the soft groan had left his lips until your gaze found his, your pretty irises growing wide.

You were just so … captivating.

His hands were on both sides of you, pressing your back further into the counter. Your black coffee steaming and fully abandoned in the coffee machine. He was holding himself back, his knuckles going white with restraint. But he wasn’t like you. He could only keep himself in control for so long. And with you here right now, your perfume surrounding him, your stockings-clad thigh brushing against his leg, your a hand placed on his chest … he was a goner.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, palm still resting on his shirt, “we …”

When your voice trailed off, Wonwoo’s instincts got the better of him. “Please, just …” One hand came up to smooth against your cheek, and he was almost out of breath as he pulled your face to his. “Let me do this.”

He gave you enough time to shove him back, to yell at him, to tell him you didn’t like him in that way. But your neck was craning towards his, and he took that as a sign to crash his lips onto yours. They were softer than he expected, and the taste … your gloss tasted like – well, like nothing. But if he pretended, he could’ve sworn there was a slight cherry aftertaste. His glasses bumped into your nose, but he’d been too overwhelmed to remember to take them off. Mouth moving against yours, his hips crammed you more against the counter, hard enough to leave a bruise on your spine. You didn’t care though. His shoulders were so wide that they shielded you, inviting your body into his, and your fingers fisted into his button-up. Tongues tangled, eager to taste more and more of each other. 

Wonwoo could kiss you forever. You didn’t want him to stop.

But all good things must end. Because when he instinctively placed his leg between yours, he knew this was going too far. Especially because you two were still at work. In the break room.

He instantly removed his leg, his lips breaking from yours. Your eyes connected, the room filled with only the sounds of heavy breathing, before you wiped a trail of spit from your chin.

Wonwoo’s head spun behind him. Thank god, there was no CCTV camera by the coffee maker.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: Good morning.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: I shouldn’t have done that last night.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:10 AM]: Still friends?

You [9:14 AM]: We probably shouldn’t be talking about this on Slack

You [9:15 AM]: Here’s my number: 855-777-0821

You [9:18 AM]: But yes friends :D

Wonwoo did not want to be just friends. But he was utterly terrified of what you would say if he voiced that. You had kissed him back, yes, but … hadn’t you agreed to be friends far too quickly? You had both hung out post-kiss – he liked to call this period of time A.T.K. (after the kiss) – and you didn’t seem to be ruminating on it like he was. Of course, he didn’t know what you were thinking, and you could be so hard to read sometimes when your layers weren’t stripped back enough. But …

Could it really have meant nothing to you?

If that were the case, he didn’t know how it was possible for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss even if he tried. When he saw you the next day – Friday, January 9, A.T.K. – the first thing he noticed was your lip gloss and all he wanted was to have it smeared over his mouth again. He noticed the way your hair fell over your shoulder, remembering how soft the strands felt when his fingers had slipped between them. He noticed that you were wearing those jeans that hugged your ass just right, and – god, now he was wishing that he had touched more than just your cheek. Wonwoo wanted to touch you everywhere. And vice versa. He didn’t care if your hands were constantly freezing or if they were dry during the winter. He wanted you to touch him however you pleased. He wanted to grab you and kiss you and hold those cold hands in his warm ones –

Oh, my god. He had a boner. At work. Just the mere memory of a kiss had him shifting himself in his pants underneath his desk, hoping no one noticed.

Eventually, he stood up, trying to keep a casual hand over the bulge in his pants as he fast walked to the bathroom. Nobody batted an eye, but you did steal a glance over at him once his back was turned. Your brow raised at the way he was practically sprinting for the elevator, not realizing that he was heading for the second floor restrooms. He must be excited for something. Probably a package, you thought before turning back to your computer.

Wonwoo felt like he could finally breathe once he was inside a stall. He rested his head against the cool tile wall, feeling the ache start to settle in his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. What 28-year-old gets a boner from a kiss? You had him acting like a goddamn teenager.

What had you done to him? Just one kiss and he was completely under your spell.

(Or maybe he’d been this way all along.)

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as he finally pulled himself out of his jeans, stroking from base to tip. Thankfully, no one was in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. The last thing he ever wanted was to be that guy who jacked off in the bathroom. But you had to wear those goddamn jeans –

Wonwoo wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he was doing a pretty good job even as this was killing him inside. He wasn’t like you; he found it hard to restrain himself, to ignore everything that was bubbling up inside him. He could feel himself cracking. What would be the thing that finally broke him?

The answer was simple: alcohol.

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: Dude lol. Why’d you run away from your desk like that

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: I think you could win the Olympics with that kind of sprint!

Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.

Lee Seokmin [11:40 AM]: Alrighty then ;)

Lee Seokmin [11:41 AM]: On another note … you free next Thursday? My buddy in the marketing department, Josh, finally has a night off from his kid so we were thinking of getting a group together for drinks after work. Interested?

The last thing you ever expected was to be invited to drinks with Seokmin and some of the managers in marketing, but Wonwoo said you should come. “In fact,” he had clarified, “you should come so I don’t have to deal with DK’s drunk antics all night.” Who were you to deprive him of your presence when he was that desperate? Plus, there was a nice girl in marketing that was also invited; maybe tonight was the night to befriend her.

But the marketing people knew how to party. You were only halfway through your second beer whereas the rest of your group was on their fourth. And three tequila shots deep. Wonwoo, seemingly, had an affinity for tequila, unlike yourself. He was able to throw them back like it was nothing; he didn’t even need a chaser. When Seokmin had requested they all get a fourth, he was met with a round of cheers, and even Wonwoo – quiet, introverted Wonwoo – threw his hands up with excitement. You placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Are you sure about that?”

Wonwoo felt his whole body freeze when your hot breath reached his ear. A pale, pink flush appeared on his cheeks, but you chocked it up to how drunk he was. Eventually, he waved away your worry with his hand. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine. Hey, how about I get you another beer?”

“Are you even coherent enough to get me another –”

“HEY! Bartender! Can I get one more of these?!” He shouted, waving your empty glass in the air. “Oh, and more tequila!”

Seokmin slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, laughing along with him. As you made friends with the rest of the marketing department, you found yourself glancing at Wonwoo every so often. His cheeks were so rosy now, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. To be fair though, everyone in this dive bar seemed to be in the same state of mind. Seokmin was singing along to the Sabrina Carpenter song blasting through the speakers. Josh was so drunk that he was crying about how much he loved his friends. They had even gotten Suzanne in finance to come out, and she was making friends with everyone for once. And Wonwoo … oh, god, Wonwoo’s head was now on the bar top and he was closing his eyes –

You abandoned your beer and walked over to your friend, shaking his shoulders. His eyes instantly opened, expecting to see Seokmin, but when his gaze met yours, he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy. “Okay,” you said, trying your best to hoist this 6 foot man off the barstool, “you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home.”

It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell you his address, but you guessed you shouldn’t be surprised when the man on your arm was blackout drunk. After flagging a taxi, you shoved him in the seat next to you and rubbed your hands together to get them warm. Wonwoo’s head was on your shoulder the second you sat down, his eyes fluttering closed as the taxi sped off into the night. You watched his fingers twitch on his thigh as he whispered sleepily, “I think my family would really like you.”

“Is that so?” You chuckled, squeezing his arm for reassurance, but little did you know just how much your touch effected him. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re you,” he replied, and then yawned. “Only you and Mingyu would do this for me.”

Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”

The taxi pulled up to a brick apartment building then, and your cold fingers struggled to get cash out from your pocket while Wonwoo was practically laying on top of you. Finally, you did your best to haul him out of the seat, thanking the taxi driver before gathering an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. The building was definitely old with vines of ivy crawling up one side. There was a dead tree with snow covering it’s branches directly by the door, spilling snowflakes on your head as you struggled to input the code Wonwoo managed to remember. And then, you were pulling him up two flights of stairs, which took far longer than you estimated. You had basically ripped his keys from his hand once you reached his apartment and continued to drag him inside, laying him on the old couch that was conveniently right near the door.

Wonwoo grumbled as soon as his head hit the armrest, and he almost fell off the couch if it weren’t for you catching him and rolling him back onto the cushion. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water,” you said, quickly rushing off to his kitchen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t fall off the couch again.”

He whined for you to come back, but you pretended you didn’t hear it, because if you did, you’d have to reckon with the tingle that bloomed between your legs at the sound of his desperation.

The entrance of his kitchen was right in front of a small hallway that sectioned off two ways. There was a bedroom door on each side of the hall, and once you walked inside the kitchen, you found a tiny table from the 80s and the dishwasher currently running. You didn’t have time to contemplate that now, and instead pilfered through his cabinets until you found a glass and filled it with tap water. Rushing back to his side, Wonwoo was already laying halfway off the couch and you sighed.

You set the glass of water on his coffee table and lifted him back up. With a little bit of help from you, you both managed to shrug off his winter jacket and you tucked a throw blanket over him to prevent him from falling off again. A heavy exhale slipped past your lips as you knelt by his side, and you couldn’t help but reach out to pushed back his hair from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You smiled to yourself.

Were coworkers supposed to show this much affection for each other?

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, and he cracked one eye open. “Do you want some water?”

He shut that eye again, grimacing at the thought of anything entering his body right now. “Ab…absolutely not.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” you persuaded, but he still shook his head. “Okay, so what do you want right now?”

His breath stilled for a moment. “Can I be honest?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I …” No, he couldn’t be that honest. “I want you to … keep p–pushing back my hair. It’s … relaxing.”

You chuckled, “Okay, you got it.” Your fingers were at the crown of his head again, smoothing back the strands. You hadn’t noticed until now that he had a freckle on the left side of his forehead; maybe you’d just never been this close to notice. Well, actually, you had. There was this thing you two did called a kiss –

“If you’re going to fall asleep, I’m going to take off your glasses,” you informed him, slipping his glasses off and setting them by his glass of water. It was late, much later than you anticipated on staying out, and you both still had to go to work tomorrow. 

But then his hand was grabbing your wrist, his grip surprisingly firm for how intoxicated he was. “Can I b–be honest again?” He slurred, his eyes half open to meet yours.

You sighed, placing your hand on top of his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Just know whatever you say will be used to make fun of you tomorrow –”

“I can’t … I haven’t …” He took a breath to formulate the words in his head. “… Stopped thinking about our kiss.”

You blinked down at him, watching the way his eyes began to close again as he relaxed into the old couch cushions. “You can’t just say shit like –”

He scoffed dramatically. “I’m noooot,” he defended, his hand slipping off your wrist to curl underneath the blanket.

“Wonwoo …” Your voice trailed off, the words dying on your tongue.

“Who the hell are you?”

You immediately got to your feet at the sound of another person’s voice behind you. Eyes growing wide, you took in the sight of the man in front of you wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled abdomen as he shook a smaller towel through his hair. He might’ve been taller than Wonwoo, only by a little bit, and his skin was a golden tan that reminded you of summertime even in this harsh winter. Why was Wonwoo hiding handsome men in his apartment? The man looked at you, waiting for an answer, his brows raised.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”

“Leave her alone, Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned from the couch, turning away from them to lay on his side.

So this was Mingyu, you concluded. This slightly god-like dude that looked like he walked straight out of a porno was the only other person who’d help Wonwoo when he was blackout drunk. Interesting.

Mingyu raised his hand awkwardly for you to shake. “His roommate,” he clarified.

“Oh,” you replied, grasping his hand for a moment and telling him your name. 

Mingyu instantly grinned, laying the small towel over his neck, holding both ends. “So you’re her.”

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way to respond; the silence was comfortable enough. You decided to keep that in mind for later though.

“He’s … well, he got very drunk,” you informed Mingyu, gesturing to a now-sleeping Wonwoo with both thumbs. “I wanted to make sure he got home okay.”

Mingyu nodded, and then sighed. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised, opening up the door for you. “Get home safe, okay?”

Wonwoo: Sorry about that the other night. I won’t get drunk like that again. It doesn’t happen very often

You: it’s okay! I’m used to handling drunk people

You: don’t get me wrong, I like to have my fun but it’s easier for me to take care of other people than like … be incoherent and anxious lol

Wonwoo: By the end of the night I was starting to feel that way. Not fun

You: DRINK WATER

You: your roommate is hot btw. does he always walk around without a shirt?

Wonwoo: Of course, he didn’t have a shirt on when you met him

Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu

You: well, I like you [UNSENT]

The bi-annual sales meeting was started to boost morale and talk with other departments that you didn’t see as often. It was typically held at a hotel in the downtown city, with the company flying in all the sales reps from across the country. There were even a few from overseas. In reality though, this was usually the week where coworkers made mistakes. At least one person was let go after these sales meetings, and HR had their eyes peeled for an entire week.

You never made a mistake at one of these. And you didn’t expect to any time soon.

This was a week of rubbing elbows with slimy sales reps and making sure some old man hadn’t spiked your drink. For most, this was a week to slack off, but a woman working in corporate couldn’t relax in these settings. You’d been making corrections to your boss’ presentation for the entire company for what felt like forever. (Realistically, it’d been almost two weeks.) You probably went through the 50 slides at least twice as much, checking for spelling mistakes and making sure it was in the right place on your desktop. Not on some random external hard drive. Not in the trash. 

But it was finally the day you’d been dreading. Presentation day, and everyone at the company was eager to hear the Boss reveal if they hit their goal for the year, amongst other things. You checked the slides another time, and then made sure no one would trip over the HDMI cord connected to the projector. The Boss gave you a reassuring smile, and then it was go time.

Your boss could be a shit bag – what CEO wasn’t? – but he had a way of speaking that made everyone so excited for the future. He was probably the reason why morale was always so high, and everyone looked forward to his presentation at these meetings. Your finger hovered over the right arrow button as he went through his speech, pointing out company statistics and what he wanted them all to accomplish this year, before finally getting to the goal reach. And his answer was nothing short of what the audience wanted to hear. He congratulated all of them, and everyone clapped together at the good news.

When you looked out at the crowd that had gathered, you realized almost every seat in the ballroom was filled. Some were even standing near the door and – wait, there was Wonwoo, leaning against the wall in the back. IT didn’t need to be here for this presentation. In fact, they were encouraged to be doing other things, like manning a table near HR and offering on-the-spot tech help. A smile made it’s way to your lips, watching the way Wonwoo was listening intently.

Once the presentation was over and the room erupted in small talk, your boss came over and thanked you for helping out yet again. “Of course,” you replied, as if there was anything else to say. He gave you a comforting squeeze of the hand before walking off to talk to some of his favorite sales reps.

As you shut your laptop and began to place your things in your backpack, Wonwoo slipped into the chair beside yours. Just the sight of his grin set you at ease, but also made you nervous at the same time. Why were you suddenly so nervous? This was just Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.

“Congratulations,” he beamed, giving you a high five. “I know you’ve been working on this all week, but you did it!”

You always stressed so much about this presentation, but at the end of the day … “All I did was press a button,” you shrugged.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t accidentally delete your file like every other time you’ve messaged me on Slack.” He chuckled, and you scoffed at his teasing. “I’d call that a win.”

The second to last night of sales meeting week was the longest night of the year. It was a tradition for everyone to go out to a bar the company rented out, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on while celebrating a job well done. You only saw half these people twice a year, and half of the time they’d have a beer in their hands. 

You did your best to ignore every sales rep that tried to speak with you without slurring their words, but that was damn near impossible when some were already on their second cocktail. However, no matter how embarrassing it was, you did allow them to compliment you and your hard work. Who were you to turn down the validation? And when the time came, even your boss came over to compliment you again, and you realized there was truly nothing like being good at your job. 

Just for a moment, everything felt okay. It was like the loneliness dissipated, the sting of years without pleasure or having someone by your side … it all faded when you were rewarded for your hard work.

Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.

When you finally found Wonwoo later that night, he was surrounded by a few younger members of the IT team, debating what computer language everyone should be obligated to learn. You waved to him from where you stood by the bar top, and that was all it took to have him walking away from his team and towards you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, insisting to buy you drinks for the rest of the night, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. If there was anyone here you trusted enough to hand you a drink, it was Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo.

The hour was reaching midnight now, and you weren’t sure how many martinis you had, but you were hiccuping a storm. That was a telltale sign that you were totally, thoroughly drunk. Wonwoo was only drinking beer and pacing himself, unlike that night at the dive bar, but he was enjoying the sight of you finally letting loose. You hung on his arm, staring up at him with your big eyes, glazing over from all the alcohol coursing through your system. He didn’t like how this effected him; he shouldn’t be attracted to the way your gaze looked while you were intoxicated. But he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes held the same shine while your lips were wrapped around his –

No, this was too much. He should take you back to the hotel.

The two of you glanced around the bar, realizing it was mostly cleared out. You definitely needed to leave now.

He tugged on your arm, wrapping one of his around your waist to support you. “C’mon now,” he grunted, helping you walk out. “Let’s get you back.”

“I didn’t f–finish my drink thoooooough,” you argued, despite letting him lead you out of the bar. “And I can walk … on my own. Swear!”

“Listen, you took care of me once,” he said as you two walked into the brisk cold air. The hotel was, thankfully, only a block away. “Let me take care of you.”

Even with the alcohol pumping in your veins, just the sound of those words falling from his mouth made you grip him tighter. You felt like your bones were made of jelly, and it wasn’t just from the vodka. It was him, and the way he made you feel, and how secretly warm he was, and the way he took care of you as you took care of him, and – oh, god, you wanted to cry because you liked Jeon Wonwoo so much.

So, so much.

It was much easier to get you back to your hotel room than his apartment, seeing as this hotel had a working elevator. You slumped beside him, tripping over your feet every so often, as he hauled you down the hallway to your room. You gave him your keycard easily, and once the door was open, he squeezed your hand to silently let you know it was time to move again. He helped you into the room, shutting the door behind him, before laying you down on your bed with the clumsiness only he could have. 

You were laughing now, hiccuping from the alcohol, but laughing nonetheless. And he was laughing at your hiccups. Or maybe he just liked the way you grinned at him.

He assisted with taking off your boots and jacket, too embarrassed to remove anything else. And it definitely wasn’t appropriate to either. Tearing back the covers, he nestled you underneath them, and said, “You got everything, right? I’m a call away if you need me.” He grabbed one of the small trash cans in the room and placed it at your bedside. “If you need to vomit and can’t make it to the bathroom, just use the trash can here –”

You hand came out to wrap around his forearm. “Stay, Wonwoo.”

Your sleepy eyes were killing him, making his inhibitions melt and his cock throb at the same time. He sighed, sitting on the side of the mattress, and before he could stop himself, he was tucking hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t do that,” he said, his voice like a caress. “You know how it would look if someone saw me leave this room tomorrow morning. HR is on all our asses this week.”

“I know,” you slurred, and then pressed your flushed cheek into his palm. “I j–just thought you … were taking care of me thoooooooough …”

His resolve crumbled into a million pieces. This was complete, utter torture. You had to know how you effected him, but of course you didn’t, because you were stretching under the covers and yawning like you didn’t just make his heart stop. 

That’s how he ended up in your bed, shutting off the lights and settling underneath the comforter. Until you came closer and rested your head on his chest. Despite how fast his heart was beating, he felt so at peace, and you both fell asleep in the clothes you wore out tonight.

Only a few hours later, you woke with a clear head and the beginning of a hangover. Your head was pounding like crazy, and it took everything in you to slip out from the comfort of your bed and pad your feet over to the bathroom. The bright light was burning your eyes, but you needed it to find the Tylenol you left by the sink. Filling a cup with water, you took the medication and prayed it worked sooner rather than later.

You squinted at yourself in the mirror, realizing you were still in the outfit you wore yesterday. With a sigh, you picked up the big t-shirt you left on the floor yesterday morning and stripped yourself until you were in nothing but your underwear. You pulled the t-shirt on and slumped against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold tile. Now this felt like heaven for your headache.

It took a couple of minutes to get yourself to move again, feet slapping against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom. You noticed Wonwoo was awake too, in the midst of slinking back under the covers, and you saw his jeans abandoned by his bedside.You crawled back to your cocoon of blankets, and he instantly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And you … you didn’t move away. In fact, you pressed yourself closer, finally hearing how his heart raced. Wonwoo didn’t care if it was probably 4 AM and he probably had to leave in a few hours – before anyone else woke – because he was holding you and smelling you hair. You smelled … god, you smelled so good that it made him hard almost instantly.

You felt his hand splay against your spine, as if trying to hold himself back, and it was then that your eyes opened. The room was dark, but you knew when his gaze was burning into yours only seconds later. You slipped one hand out from the covers, cupping his cheek as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered a soft, “Shit,” because you both knew where this was going.

You agreed you wouldn’t do this again. You agreed to be friends.

But now you’re kissing again.

Your hand moved from his face to his neck, and his hands are gripping your cheeks to make sure your mouth stayed on his. His fingers were shaking. He kissed you desperately, as if he needed this just to be able to breathe again, and maybe he did. You were like putty in his hands, molding yourself to his body as your tongue tangled with his. Whatever ache you felt in your temples drifted between your legs, causing you to moan into his mouth. And fuck, just the sound of you made his cock swell, precum soaking through his boxers.

The room felt so hot all of a sudden, but your cold hands came in handy as they rested on his neck. His left hand slid down to your ass, finally giving it a firm squeeze after kicking himself for not doing it when he first kissed you. That made you moan again, and he decided he’d never stop touching you like this, just so he could hear these sounds fall from your lips.

He slid his knee between your legs on instinct, and you didn’t hesitate to start grinding against his thigh. The friction felt delicious and soothing. You both kissed each other slower, a little messier, focusing on touching each other everywhere you dreamed about all these months. Your fingers traced down the column of his neck, down the thin cotton of the shirt he was still wearing from yesterday, while bucking against his thigh. His lips left yours, dragging across your cheek so he could nibble on your earlobe, feeling it grow warm and red from all the attention. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed you,” he whispered, and you damn near almost came from that confession.

You weren’t used to this; you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced pleasure like this with someone, but you couldn’t imagine stopping. Not when he angled his thigh just right, the muscle in his leg rubbing against your clit, your panties completely soaked. You cupped him over his boxers, feeling his bulge throb in your palm, and you cooed, “Can I …”

He groaned. You didn’t need to say more; Wonwoo was smart enough to know what you were insinuating. He felt disoriented, drunk off of you and your touch, smell, everything. “Are you … are you sure you don’t want to …” His voice was giving out, but from the way your fingers were slipping under the waistband of his boxers, you knew you wanted just this, and he’d give you whatever you wanted. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s fine,” he finished.

You chuckled softly. He smiled against your neck. Pulling his cock out and wrapping your palm around it, you began to stroke him slowly. “Oh, god,” he was sighing into the crook of your neck, his brain in such a state of disarray when you resumed grinding against his leg while also pumping him from base to tip. This couldn’t be real; he had to be dreaming, but he could feel your wet panties sticking to his thigh. He could feel himself shake as he clung to you and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your throat. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. 

“Wonwoo,” you whimpered, and he dragged his lips back to yours just to feel how your mouth moved when you said his name. You bucked your hips faster, your arousal coating his thigh, and warmth bloomed between your legs. When your hand on his cock reached his head again, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his slit, making more precum bead onto your knuckles. “Wanna cum with you,” you begged, stroking him faster and in time with your hips.

“I know you do, I know,” he breathed against your lips. “Just a little faster … yes, just like that. Fuck.”

Only a moment later were you trembling, hips stuttering as pleasure took over your body. You came hard, squeezing his thigh between your legs, and your cry was swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips. If he didn’t kiss you, he knew he’d moan so loud it would wake the entire hotel. Because – oh, god, he was cumming now, and he was sighing against your mouth as he erupted in your hand, ropes of cum staining your t-shirt. He could’ve swore he saw white. He’d never felt a release like this before; not with anyone else. Not even when he jerked off. But maybe it was because this was your hand and you were cumming on his leg, and fuck –

You were still shaking in each other’s arms, minds blank and reeling, bodies coming down from the high. It took the kind of strength that moved mountains to slip from his arms and clean yourself up. But by the time you came back from the bathroom and cuddled up next to him, Wonwoo was already fast asleep.

Jeon Wonwoo [6:08 AM]: I had to leave early this morning before anyone woke. But if you want, I’d like to see you at breakfast this morning :)

You [7:31 AM]: Jeon Wonwoo, I’m begging you to just text this to me

You [7:31 AM]: Also, was your phone hacked? Since when do you use emojis?

There wasn’t much to do on the last day of sales meeting week. The only things on your plate were to make niceties with some of the new reps, and probably attend a few presentations by HR. When you had finally woken up this morning to just you in the bed, you almost considered skipping the HR presentations, feeling too guilty and like they might see right through you. It was irrational, but you were sure that this was the only way to feel after realizing that you hooked up with your coworker and friend. 

Not that you hadn’t wanted to. Not that you hadn’t been thinking about it since your kiss. No, it wasn’t like that at all.

So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?

You got ready as quick as you could – but of course, making sure you wore that V-neck sweater that showed off your cleavage just right – and threw your hair up before leaving your hotel room. The line for the breakfast buffet was packed, but you waited patiently and decided to sit near the bar once you plate was full. The rest of the dining room was filled with people and you weren’t awake enough to make shitty small talk. Sitting here at the bar top was peaceful and quiet –

“Is this … seat taken?”

Your eyes met his instantly, and you noticed the way Wonwoo was cringing at the line he threw at you. You decided to forget it, for his sake, and gestured for him to sit down. Fuck, you were so goddamn nervous, even though you had agreed to meet him in the first place. You wore this low-cut sweater for him. You both sat in silence for a bit, crunching awkwardly on the burnt bacon, and shifting in your seats. 

“Did you …” You were surprised that your mouth was moving on it’s own volition, spilling any words that came to your head. “… Do anything this morning since you were up early?”

Wonwoo choked a bit on a strawberry, but recovered quickly. “Uh … yeah, yeah, sure. Once I came down here, one of the IT interns found me in a panic because he couldn’t set up one of the rep’s new work phones. Created a whole scene over nothing.”

You snorted and sipped your coffee. “Is that intern still breathing?”

His eyes flickered to yours, a slow smile growing on his face. “Yes, actually.”

You fell into sync then, letting the awkward silence melt away as you joked about Wonwoo’s interns. He wasn’t meant to teach college students, god help them. But as your plates became empty and a server came around to take them, you two were left with only the mugs in your hands, strangely reminiscent of that apology coffee he bought for you so long ago.

Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, so about last night – or I guess, this morning …”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you interjected, setting your coffee down. “I have a hangover, but I am thriving.”

He blinked. “Well, that’s good. But I was referring to –”

You almost couldn’t look at him when you said, “The fact that we’re definitely not just friends anymore?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”

“I …” You licked your lips as you gathered yourself. There was this … terrifying flutter in your chest. You’d never felt something like this before, but you weren’t keen on letting it go. Not yet. “I would like to see you again. Like that. Definitely not during work hours. If you catch my drift. This is awkward.”

Wonwoo had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see him trying to hold in his laughter, but it was clear as day. You sighed loud and hit his arm, making him look at you once again as he snickered to himself. “You know, you could just ask me if I want to hang out.”

You leveled a look at him and huffed. “Okay, Wonwoo, do you –”

“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”

You found yourself at Wonwoo’s side more often than not. What used to be work get togethers transitioned to meeting up at a bar, or checking a new restaurant on the weekends. Sometimes he’d ask you to come over so you could taste test a new recipe he found. (Unfortunately for both of you, Wonwoo wasn’t very good at cooking, but he was getting better. Somewhat.) Those recipe nights, however, always led to him lifting you up on his creaky kitchen counter and kissing you so hard that you almost forgot to breathe. Until Mingyu came into the kitchen, making a gagging sound, and you two instantly detached from each other.

Friday nights were known as Mingyu’s Movie Nights, and Wonwoo began inviting you to those. He had said that this would help knock a few movies off your Letterboxd Watchlist, but you knew that was just an excuse for wanting to see you. You probably saw him more than anyone now, but you couldn’t deny that you … wanted to see him too. Having him in your life made everything suddenly better. He was kind and smart and thoughtful. He made you laugh in ways you couldn’t explain, and obviously … he didn’t have to do much to make you want him. He’d simply have to look at you and you’d get on his lap. If Mingyu wasn’t there, of course.

Wonwoo seemed to blossomed with you. He was more excited to leave his apartment, more eager to become a better cook. He spoke up often, whether it be at work or out with you, rather than letting someone talk. He wanted to learn all the things that you liked, wanted to touch you exactly where you needed it, wanted to find new ways to leave you breathless. Because it was for you.

Even Mingyu noticed a difference in his friend. He’d known Wonwoo for so many years now, but he’d never made this much of a change for anyone. One night, when you and Mingyu were alone in the kitchen, he mentioned, “He’s different around you.” And then kept pouring wine in three glasses while Wonwoo picked a movie from the living room.

There were also times where Wonwoo was a booty call, of course, and neither of you had any problems with that. Some nights, Wonwoo would call you after Mingyu went to bed, begging you to come over, but ended up settling for phone sex. His attraction to you in stockings only went up, and it was difficult for him to contain his arousal at work when you strutted around just knowing how it affected him. There was days where all he wanted to do was pull you into a janitor closet and fuck the living daylights out of you. But it wasn’t like you’d let him anyway.

You had your fair share of desperate moments too. Especially tonight, as you were out drinking with your friends at a local spot you’d been coming to for years. The live band was loud and you’d had your fair share of shitty margaritas already. One of your friends was tugging on the arm of some rando she met on the dance floor, yelling over the music that she was leaving and she’d text you when she was home safe. That left you shit out of luck for a ride home, and suddenly very lonely. The last thing you wanted was to drink alone at a shitty bar on a Saturday night.

Wandering outside, your heeled boots crunched in the snow as you looked for the nearest Uber. The fastest one around would take over 20 minutes to get to you, and as you looked around the empty city streets … wait, didn’t Wonwoo live around here? Maybe all the tequila was just getting to you. But you called him anyway, and despite the time reaching 1 AM, he answered instantly. He heard the slight lisp in your voice, and once he got out of you exactly where you were, he realized you were right. It only took him about 10 minutes to get to where you were, parking on the side of the road. 

He sighed at the sight of you sitting on the curb, shivering and hugging your jacket around you. Various drunk people filtered in and out of the bar, but none of them checked on you – a freezing girl just sitting on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you wait inside for me?” He asked, his breath hot against your cheek when he pulled you up in his arms. Your dress rode up a little, and his hands were quick to yank it back down. “It’s the middle of winter.”

“I jusssst thought … the cold air would sssssober me up,” you slurred, letting him place you in his passenger seat before running back over to the driver’s side. His car was warm, making you bury yourself in your jacket, but his hand on your thigh was even warmer somehow. If your fingers weren’t so cold, you’d wrap your hand around his wrist, inching his palm up higher as he drove.

Once he was parked, he wasted no time getting you out and helping you up the stairs to his apartment. Mingyu was passed out on the couch, an old movie from the 80s playing on the TV, but you could hardly register it because your brain was spinning and Wonwoo was practically dragging you to his bedroom. He was grateful that all the lights were off so you couldn’t see how messy it was, but honestly, it was a miracle if you could see anything clearly right now.

He sat you down on the bed and you looked up at him with bleary eyes, which made you so fucking hard to resist. All the tequila you drank was pumping through your bloodstream, and you couldn’t help but fist your hands in his t-shirt and try to kiss him. He evaded your lips though – no matter how much he wanted to – and you whined, “Whyyyyyy won’t you kiss me?”

“Shhh …” He whispered, yanking off your boots. “Inside voice. Mingyu’s sleeping.”

You smacked your hands against his mattress. “He’s sleeping in the living room!”

Wonwoo got back to his feet, gesturing as he instructed, “Arms up.” You were too intoxicated to do anything but oblige, lifting your arms as he struggled to pull your dress over your head. Once it was off and thrown to the side with your boots, your hazy vision caught him looking through his drawers for clothes for you to wear. But didn’t he just take your clothes off? You could’ve sworn he did that because he wanted you too right now.

You protested when he tried putting you in one of his simple white tees, but your body felt too limp to fight. He slipped the shirt over your head before pulling back his comforter and wrapping you in it. With your eyes half open, you watched him come to the other side of the bed, yanking his pants down and crawling in bed beside you. He reached over you and set his glasses on the side table. You sighed dramatically. Now he was just torturing you. Wonwoo simply chuckled to himself, realizing what you were angry about.

His arms instantly wound around you, his lips pulled into a smile at your hairline. You looked up at him with a scowl and your voice slurred, “Whysss your eyes closed?”

Wonwoo snickered under his breath. “Because it’s late and I’m tired.” His hand on your lower back traced circles, attempting to coax you to sleep.

“I thought you wanted meeeee,” you complained. Your hand reached in between you two, smoothing your palm against his groin as he slowly started to harden under your touch. You heard his breath hitch slightly, so you kept going, a soft ache beginning between your own legs at just the thought of putting him in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, I always want you.” He then grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from him, and then lacing your fingers together. Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, he sighed sleepily, “But you’re much sexier when you’re sober.”

You started to realize why you didn’t usually do this, why it had been so long since you let someone see every part of you. What you looked like completely stripped down – both inside and out – completely vulnerable for your person. How your face contorted during pleasure, and how it relaxed when you were taken care of.

Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.

You didn’t work on the weekends unless you had to, and when the Boss sent you a high priority email on Saturday morning, you didn’t hesitate. He had transferred over a bunch of sensitive files that were needed for a board presentation first thing Monday morning. But of course, something just had to go wrong: the files were corrupted and you had no way of figuring out what to do. And it wasn’t like your boss was on call like you were on a Saturday.

This was how you ended up at Wonwoo’s apartment.

You had called him in a panic, explaining what had went wrong, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He was used to your tech emergencies by now. But by the time you got to his apartment, out of breath after running from the train station, he had realized just how serious you were taking this. You both sat down on his couch and you let him work his magic. His fingers moved across the keys as if he were a musician, and you couldn’t stop biting your nail nervously.

Mingyu came back to the apartment after grocery shopping, waving at you before putting all the food away. Seeing as you were here, maybe they could all go out and have fun tonight. He went into the living room, ready to mention a band that was playing at a local venue later, but upon seeing the stressed look on both your faces, he exhaled. “It’s a Saturday,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Why do you two look like that?”

“Corrupted documents,” Wonwoo answered quickly, not even looking up from the monitor. 

“I don’t even want to know more,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack and tugging his arms through the sleeves. “Just your faces are making me anxious. I’m heading out. Don’t wait up.”

You gave Mingyu a wave as he left, but Wonwoo was too focused to even say goodbye. It took about another hour and one cup of coffee, but Wonwoo eventually figured out how to uncorrupt the files. You let out a sigh of relief as he handed the laptop back to you and you were able to open each of them without issue. Thank god, you had managed to figure this out before Monday morning. And … having Wonwoo wasn’t too bad either.

“Thank you,” you beamed, not being able to resist pinching his cheek. “My hero.”

Silence engulfed the room as you both noticed how the sky was already getting dark. You cleared your throat, slipping your laptop back into your bag and muttering, “Thanks again. I know I kind of barged in and wasted your Saturday afternoon –”

Like the saint he was, Wonwoo simply smiled at you. “No time with you is a waste.”

Whatever words you were about to say clogged in your throat. You swallowed hard, attempting to hide your fluster, but you ended up choking out, “I … should go.”

“You don’t have to.” He stood from the couch, walking over to you and running his hands down your arms. His brow lifted. “Do you want to?”

You let the strap of your bag fall to the floor as your hands cupped his neck. “No, not particularly.”

Wonwoo chuckled, leaning in and letting his lips just lightly graze yours. “We have the place to ourselves,” he hummed, slowly dragging you backwards with him. “Mingyu’s gone … probably won’t be back until midnight.”

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, letting him lead you to his room, as limp as a rag doll. Once he shut his bedroom door behind you, he flicked the light on. You pressed your back against the door and your eyes roamed around the space. This was the first time you saw his bedroom with the light on; every other time had been pitch black. You liked that his walls weren’t bare – they were filled with posters of his favorite musicians or photographs. On his desk was a large monitor and a gaming set up, but also a camera with stacks of film next to it. His furniture was old – probably from the 90s, probably passed down from his family – but the scratches within the wood told a story. And unlike most men, his sheets were gray.

Wonwoo realized you were scanning his room, and he became acutely aware of the clothes scattered amongst his floor. He muttered something to himself, beginning to pick up the clothes piles and chuck them into his hamper. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I inherited the organized gene like Mingyu.”

You tilted your head, striding over and pulling him up, making him halt his actions. Your hands went to his face as you brought him closer. With a smile, you whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mingyu,” before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss became deep far too quickly, or maybe time was passing faster than usual. Your lips crashed so hard against his that they’d bruise. He took off his glasses, setting them on his drawer, before his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans. You stepped forward, making him step back, then another, and another – until you had him falling back on his bed. You straddled him, arching your back so you could lick into his mouth just how he liked. Hands sliding up his shirt, you felt his abdomen flex underneath you. His fingers in your belt loops jerked you closer, pressing your hips to his, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning into the kiss.

You smiled against his mouth, dragging your lips down his neck, and then even further, as you slinked down his body. Your eyes were trained on his, and he was trying his best not to look like a complete idiot in front of you. But it was difficult when you were looking at him with those eyes and – oh, now you were pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, practically salivating when you noticed how hard he was already.

But … this was what you guys always did. Not that he had an issue with you giving him blow jobs, but none of this felt particularly intimate. You never really let him worship you; you took control of the entire situation. As if you were bringing your professional stubbornness to the bedroom.

“Wait,” he choked out as you palmed his growing bulge. “Can we … can we try something different?”

Your brows furrowed and you continued pressing sloppy kisses above his groin. “Why would we do that?”

Wonwoo let out a frustrated sound, and before you could prepare yourself, he was yanking his pants back up and pinning you underneath him. You blinked up at him in surprise, and he was gripping your wrists above your head now, his bodyweight pressing you into the mattress. He almost looked shocked that he had the strength to push you back, but his blown-out pupils gave away his true desire.

“What was that for?” You asked incredulously. Nerves clouded your thoughts, making you stutter. “I thought … I thought you liked …”

“No, trust me, I do,” he assured you, and then tipped his head as he gazed down at you. “I just … why won’t you let me take care of you?”

You scoffed then, trying to cover up how petrifying this conversation was becoming. Were you that transparent now, or did he simply know you far too well for your own good?

“I have no idea what you’re –”

Wonwoo gave you one of his infamous leveled looks, and you sighed. “You’re in constant need of seeking control when it’s always at your fingertips. It’s okay to let it go; it won’t slip away.” He let go of your wrists then, but kept his body hovering over yours, holding himself up by his elbows resting near your head. “Please, just … surrender it for once. Let me take the lead.”

You glanced down at your hands on your chest, twiddling your thumbs. Eventually, you murmured, “It’s hard. I’ve never done that before.”

“Can we try? I like …” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then let his head fall as he chuckled to himself. “This is so awkward. I just – I like prioritizing your pleasure. It feels much better for me and I think it will for you too. And if you don’t like it –”

“I’m not good with change,” you blurted.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice taking on that husky tone that made warmth pool in your stomach. His eyes flickered to your lips now, noticing how swollen they still were. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was just a suggestion, and I probably ruined the mood.”

You shook your head immediately, allowing your fingers to tenderly sweep over his shirt. “No, I …” A voice in the back of your head told you this was a good thing, and you did want this, but the fear of change was overwhelming. You wanted to step out of your comfort zone, desperately, for once. You were allowed to do this; you were allowed to be happy. 

Your gaze met his again. “I want to try.”

His eyes softened with affection, but then he asked, “You’re not just agreeing for my sake, right?”

“Now when have I ever done that?” You laughed, making him smile along with you. 

But as soon as his mouth met yours, that awkward, giggling persona seemed to melt away. Jeon Wonwoo morphed into an entirely different person, someone that possessed your jaw in his large hand, pulling at your bottom lip before kissing you harder. It was enough to leave you gasping for air once he pulled away, spit connecting you two, and he continued to suck and nip his way down your throat. He made sure to leave marks in places that could be covered up for work, but he’d know exactly where they were. God, would he even be able to control himself at his desk, knowing where his bites were hiding under your clothes? 

Tugging your sweater over your head, he practically whined at the sight of your breasts, constricted in the bra that you told him was too old once, but you kept wearing it anyway because he said it was cute. He lifted you for a moment, expertly removing it with one hand, before licking the valley between your breasts. You arched into him, sighing into your arm when he swirled his tongue around your taut nipple. He glanced up and realized you were hiding your face, so he pushed your hand off. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” he cooed, but it sounded more like a demand.

Despite the embarrassment, you did as he asked, feeling completely bewitched as you watched him cup the swell of your breast, tugging on your nipple. This felt like a goddamn Pornhub video. You two have had sex before, yes, but not like this. Never like this. Wonwoo had always let you do what you were comfortable with, keeping his other side at bay while you rode him hard on the couch. But this … this felt like something else entirely. The way he was lavishing both your nipples, coating them with his spit, demanding you to watch … Expletives filtered softly from your mouth, wetness gathering between your thighs. It suddenly felt too hot and your jeans were still on.

Wonwoo was taking his time with you though, and it was very clear to you that this wouldn’t just be one of those nights where you had sex for 10 minutes before ordering pizza. When he lifted his mouth from your left nipple, he asked calmly, “Do you like this or do you want more?”

You sneered, “Well, of course, I like –”

His hand came up instantly to pinch your other nipple, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that came out of your mouth. “No teasing,” he said, lowering his head to flick that nipple with his tongue. “Just answer me.”

“More,” you choked out, your hips arching off the bed, seeking friction. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between your breasts once again, before lowering himself down your body. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his lips down your stomach. Eventually, he had to stand from the bed so he could finally unzip your pants, tugging when they got stuck around your ankles. When the cold air hit between your legs, you realized how soaked you were already. Wonwoo smirked to himself, slowly rolling your panties down your legs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you joked, kicking your panties off into a pile by his bed. 

He lifted your ankle, nipping playfully, and replied, “Told you that you’d like me taking the lead.”

You rolled your eyes as he settled between your thighs, bending your knees back so your feet rested beside his head. You bit your lip as he placed sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, biting hard enough to make a bruise. Wonwoo fought hard to maintain a sense of composure, but god, the sight of your pretty pussy oozing slick made him wonder if he could cum untouched. You had let him finger you before, but had never been in the mood for this. And this was something Wonwoo had been fantasizing about since the day he noticed that tear in your stockings. He could jump for joy if that didn’t make him look like an absolute fucking loser.

He pushed your folds apart with two fingers, running a hand down his face as he attempted to school his expression. It was just so fucking hard to act cool when you were this aroused. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead, deciding to quip, “Wonwoo, can you even find the clit without your glasses on –”

Without warning, he spit on your pussy and buried his face between your thighs. The words died on your tongue immediately, and you let out the loudest whine he’d ever heard in his life. He smiled, but that didn’t deter him from circling his tongue around your clit. He wound one of his arms around your thigh, holding you in place as he pressed his face further.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked and drew out the prettiest sounds from you, using his free hand to slip two fingers inside you. You tasted exactly like he dreamed about, sweet and tangy and so unmistakably you. He looked up at you from between your legs, curling his fingers in the spot that made tears prick at your eyes, and when your gaze found his, it was like something in him snapped. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled, feasting at you like he’d been starved for days. 

Your fingers were in his hair now, pressing his head more into you, which only made this more enjoyable for him. He nearly came in his pants when your hips began to buck against his face, but this was about you. And him experiencing you cumming on his face. But mostly you. His fingers pumped faster inside you and his tongue was now flicking your clit, allowing more of your arousal to invade his mouth. He’d never get tired of this taste; he was obsessed. Now that he finally got a taste of you … he never wanted to not be doing this. Never wanted his face too far from the apex of your legs. Not when you had the sweetest taste that could move heaven and earth between these thighs.

And when you finally came on his tongue, he noticed that your legs shook like an earthquake. Your essence flooded his mouth, and he moaned – god, did he moan – lapping at you, never missing a drop of what you gave him. His fingers kept curling inside of you, making your orgasm feel like forever. When he finally removed them with a wet pop, he didn’t miss the opportunity to have more of you, wrapping his mouth around those two fingers and licking off the last of your release. You watched him, completely mesmerized by the way he savored you, even darting his tongue out to capture the whatever seeped out of you. Your hips jolted, suddenly so sensitive, and he grinned up at you.

You hardly caught your breath before he crawling up your body, kissing you hard and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt, and when you ripped your lips away from his, you arched a brow. “You are still fully clothed,” you reminded, and then swiped at the spit lining his bottom lip.

Wonwoo simply smiled, ghosting his lips over yours before trailing them to your ear. “I’m getting to that part. Patience,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. “You must really want me inside you.”

“I want to not be the only one naked.”

“Say it,” he prodded in a weirdly casual tone.

“What?”

“Say you want me inside you.”

“This is ridiculous –��

He lifted his head from your jawline. “I can easily leave this room and order a pizza,” he teased, and you blinked at him. He was actually being serious. He would completely ignore what looked like a throbbing erection in his pants, just to make a point. You knew he wasn’t trying to be mean; he wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. This was so stupid, because you did want him inside you. Embarrassingly so. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, but you still had this … aching need to be filled. Your cheeks heated just at the thought of it.

“I …” Your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to make your whole face turn bright red. With a sigh, your eyes connected again, and you answered, “I want you inside me, Wonwoo.”

He rewarded you with a kiss, pulling away before it could get too heated again, and stood from the bed. “Well, when you ask nicely …” He smiled, that dominating demeanor slipping for a moment as he pulled his shirt off. You’d never get tired of the way Wonwoo looked without a shirt. He didn’t let anyone see it very often – he wasn’t like his roommate – but the moments he did, you felt eternally grateful. His torso was toned, with defined abs and pecks that made your mind boggle. You liked that his arms were long and muscled; his hands large and slightly calloused. 

You liked everything about him.

When he finally went to kick off his sweatpants, he noticed a large precum stain on the gray fabric from just eating you out. Which was probably the biggest jab to his calm and collected attitude right now, but he didn’t let it slip. He simply threw the sweatpants to the side, coming up close to the bed again, where your legs were now hanging off the edge. You gazed up at him as if he held the world in his palms, watching the way he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, never used to the size. He was slightly thicker than average, but long. Longer than you ever expected. With a pretty pink head leaking sticky precum.

It was killing you how long he was taking. Your legs shifted, ready to make a move to yank him underneath you, but he was faster than you. He pinned your wrists about your head with one hand this time, using his other to keep a firm grip on his cock. “You want to be in control that badly, huh?” He asked, tilting his head.

His hand was moving up and down his shaft now, letting precum dribble on your stomach. Your eyes flickered from his cock back to his eyes. “I just … I need you, Wonwoo,” you begged, your voice taking on a new tone. And somehow … wanting him so bad like this was ten times more arousing than riding him on the couch. “Please, please, Wonwoo. Please, fuck me.”

Your pleas had him falling apart, and he sighed, letting go of your wrists to discard his boxers too. His cock flopped against his stomach, hard and aching and – fuck, had he always been veiny? He got on top of you again, cooing against your lips, “I know, baby, I know.” His rubbed the underside of his length against your wet folds, moaning at the slightest bit of friction. “I’ll fuck you real good. I promise.”

Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, his breath hitched at just the feeling of your arousal coating his shaft. You both had never taken your time with sex. But he was doing that tonight now that he was in control, letting himself slowly push inside you, feel you completely stretch open for him. You mewled, slinking your arms around his neck and carding your fingers at the nape. And when he finally buried himself to the hilt, his lips fell open and he groaned. You felt so good he could cum right now, but he needed to get a grip. The last thing he needed was to cum too fast.

Not that you would like him any less if he did.

“Wonwoo,” you cried, your hips arching up to meet his. “Please.”

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance-like state he was in. He settled more on top of you, resting his elbows on both sides of your head, and pulled all the way out so only the tip remained. You whined at the emptiness, which soon changed to a gasp when he bullied his cock back in. Your fingers tugged at his hair; your legs crossed around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. “Fuck,” he muttered, still feeling how tight you were, how you molded yourself for him. “So fucking … god, so wet.”

His restraint could only last so long. He’d gotten his fill of feeling you adjust around him. He couldn’t take this anymore, or he was going to cum before you both had even started. With a deep breath, he set a brutal pace inside of you, his hips snapping forward. Tears rolled down your cheeks; how could something feel so good that you cried? Wonwoo seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he was burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning, “God, so good … you feel so good … how can anyone feel this good?”

The only word you could choke out was, “Ditto,” which you’d regret for hours after this. But now was not the time.

He was fucking into you so hard that you were already sore, but you were holding onto him for dear life, clinging to him as that warmth burned in your gut. The way his cock curved and grazed your g-spot perfectly, making you tremble and whimper his name like a prayer. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling how deep his cock nestled inside you, and you noticed him shiver in your arms. He was trying desperately to fight off his release. That coil in your gut began to tighten, and from the way Wonwoo was breathing, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you to cum first though – like always – wanted to feel you clamp around him, squeeze him so tight that he saw white. 

So he did what he did best: reached in between your bodies, finding your swollen, sensitive clit so easily, and rubbed slow circles. He lifted his head from your neck, wanting to see that familiar look in your eyes when you saw stars. “Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice was so deep that it reverberated against your chest.

And finally, as he pressed his thumb down hard and pushed into you just right, you felt your orgasm crest. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you sobbed, body shaking as you came undone. 

But Wonwoo wasn’t stopping. He kept fucking into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And when your walls squeezed him so tight, he buried himself completely and came hard, a generous amount of fucks leaving his lips. His cheek pressed against yours; his groans muffled by the comforter. You held him close as he filled you to the brink with his release, and it almost felt like hours before he realized he finished. 

You exhaled together, allowing your heart rates to settle. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then to your nose, and now he was kissing all over your face. Your cheeks instantly tinged pink, but you let him do as he pleased. He didn’t even make a move off you, letting his cock soften inside your warmth. When your eyes opened, he was staring down at you like you were the sun. You searched his eyes, “What?”

His dark gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you really say, ‘Ditto,’ during sex?”

You and Wonwoo had gotten into a routine. Of course, you saw him 5 days out of the week at work, but you wanted more of him. You figured out Mingyu’s schedule, coming over most nights when he wasn’t home – besides Mingyu’s Movie Nights. You would let Wonwoo cook for you, and he promised he was getting better, before he led you to his room with kisses to your neck and a firm grip on your hand. 

He always went with whatever you were comfortable with, but you found yourself letting him take the lead more often than not. You liked letting him prioritize you; you liked being selfish with him. Giving up control felt … much better than anticipated. Everything about this felt too good to be true. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you didn’t want to spoil it by asking him the dreaded, “What are we?” For now, you’d exist in your safe little bubble, where he would smile at you at work and then fuck your brains out after hours. It felt perfect, simple.

You approached sex through a different lens now. Instead of simply riding him on that godforsaken old couch, you let him go at his own pace: placing you on his lap, having his way with you and making you cum at least 3 times before he sunk you down on his cock, bouncing you up and down as you clung to him, practically letting him use you as a flesh light. Even when he let you sit on his face, it was on his terms: his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark, trying to suffocate himself with your pussy, not allowing you to cum until he said so, no matter how much you needed to. But it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want this to stop. You liked the lack of control, liked the way he took care of you. The way he bent your knees back as he slid into you, keeping eye contact, so you’d feel him that much deeper … the way he could feast on you for hours, never getting enough of your taste … there was something about it that made you feel more than beautiful. 

Especially when he looked at you as if you were his world.

Especially when he fucked into you and you realized you might be in love with him.

You tended to get lost in thought while laying in bed on an early morning. The birds chirped outside, your phone chimed along with each new notification. Curling underneath your comforter, you held your pounding head, reminiscing on last Sunday. You had gone over Wonwoo’s apartment and he had surprised you with a spaghetti dinner. Mingyu promised that it was “more edible than usual” before he left you two alone in the apartment.

You had noticed the shine in Wonwoo’s eyes, how excited he was to do this for you. He had never bothered to learn anything for anyone, but all he wanted to do was please you. To make you happy. And you could see that in the way he gazed at you, making your stomach do flip flops. Letting him have all this control over you, letting him see past the fortress you’d kept up for who knows how long … it was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

He taught you how to play his favorite video game after dinner, placing you in between his legs on the couch and letting you lean back against his broad chest. His arms cocooned around you, nestling your body in his embrace. Sometimes he would nibble on your ear as you fought to maintain hand-eye coordination with the controller. Eventually, you had given up and asked to watch him, but that led to his hand dropping the controller as the enemy killed him off. And then his fingers were slowly slipping down the waistband of your leggings, rubbing your slit over your panties. You had arched into him, your ass pressing against his hardening erection as he pulled your panties to the side, already finding you wet and ready for his touch. He chuckled in your ear, “How long have you been thinking about this?” His index finger rubbed tight circles on your clit, and all that you could formulate for a response was a moan as he –

You cut yourself off from the memory before it could end you.

Your stomach churned. Despite your better judgement, you had completely fallen head-over-heels for senior IT specialist, Jeon Wonwoo, and that was terrifying. He had seen your personality unfold, seen the most vulnerable parts of you. But nothing was more scary than admitting to yourself how much you liked him, maybe even loved. You were frantic to the point of exhaustion, so stressed that you felt sick. Soon you were shivering, your head pounding as a fever came on, and you stayed home from work for a few days. Your phone notifications be damned – you stayed in your bedroom with the blinds closed, sleeping the days away.

Every so often, you would hear your phone chime. Your phone screen would light up with another text message. But … you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. This behavior was illogical and stupid; you just simply couldn’t help yourself. You were an avoidant. The only thing you knew how to do was slowly push him away before he saw all the layers underneath your carefully crafted facade.

What if he finally saw how anxious you were all the time?

What if he knew how you secretly craved to be loved your entire life, but you looked for it elsewhere, in places like workplace praise or crowded bars where you couldn’t see another person’s face?

What if he knew you weren’t as organized up in your head as you were at your desk?

Or worse … what if he didn’t like you back?

TUESDAY, APRIL 22

Wonwoo: What’s going on?

Wonwoo: I managed to find out that you’re sick. I can make you soup, if you want? I know my cooking is terrible. But what if this time it’s good and it cures you?

Wonwoo: If I threaten to message you on Slack, will that make you reply?

Wonwoo: I promise I won’t. Unless … lol

Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?

Wonwoo: Please, answer me.

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

UNKNOWN: hey, it’s Mingyu. I found your number in Wonwoo’s phone. he’s really messed up right now and worrying about you.

UNKNOWN: idk what’s going on between you two, but I don’t like seeing him like this.

UNKNOWN: just … call him. or text him. or something.

Jeon Wonwoo [10:13 AM]: Did your computer die and you need a new charger?

Jeon Wonwoo [3:21 PM]: I miss you.

When you finally returned to work, it’s on a day that your cubicle mate had decided to work from home. You couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or curse until the next day, when you wished that he decided to work from home forever. It was on a Tuesday morning that you finally faced him again, locking eyes with him from across the boardroom table in an all-hands meeting. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, but … he didn’t speak to you any way. In fact, even when you both got back to your desks, he kept quiet, throwing on his headphones and focusing on whatever task was at hand. His attitude change wasn’t exactly surprising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him either.

All your other coworkers looked bewildered. The silence between you two made just about everyone feel awkward. They all saw how close you and Wonwoo had become, and now everything just felt … flat. Silent. Empty. It was like you two were strangers. Maybe you had never really known each other in the first place, if you could both discard each other so easily. 

But that just seemed too good to be true. You thought about him everyday, despite yourself, and he had to think of you too. You caught his eyes on you every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him in silence. It was probably time for you to take charge again and make the first move, but you found yourself hesitating. Again. You were overwhelmed with thoughts of rejection. 

This was why you never gave up control with someone before. It left you suddenly so, so doubtful.

You [1:34 PM]: I can’t get into my Outlook. I think I’ve locked myself out 

Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.

You [1:36 PM]: I miss you too

It was a busy Sunday, the first notes of Spring evident in the air. You needed to go to the post office today, the supermarket, probably check in on your parents … but that was all discarded when you made the sudden decision to take a taxi to Wonwoo’s apartment. Your hands were shaking more than his when he first touched you. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety, and when the taxi finally pulled up to his building, you considered never getting out. 

But you couldn’t continue being a coward. Besides, this driver had places to be, with the way he was arguing for you to pay in cash.

You were lucky enough to slide in through the building’s entrance while someone was walking out. The less you had to embarrass yourself by calling Mingyu to let you in, the better. The walk up those two flights of stairs was long and tiring, and it wasn’t because you always hated them. You physically couldn’t make yourself go faster, too frightened of what he was going to say when he saw you. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything; maybe he’d slam the door in your face. And you couldn’t blame him, because now you were at his door and – oh, god, you wanted to hurl.

The door was opening before you could even catch your breath. When you caught that first glimpse of Mingyu, you realized how much of a mistake this was. You could always turn back, run down the stairs before anyone could say a word.

But as soon as you both locked eyes, Mingyu raised his brow, but not in a mocking sense. It was as if … he expected you to be here. He sighed, leaning against the door, and without looking back, he called out, “Wonwoo! You got a visitor.”

Your eyes went wide, and then Mingyu was pushing past you, leaving the door open and muttering, “Good luck.” He was rushing down the stairs two at a time before you could even say a word back. But then you were seeing him, and you wondered if it had always been this hard to breathe around him.

Your fingers played absentmindedly as you both stared at each other. His glasses were slipping down his nose, but he made no move to fix them. His own hand was too busy dropping the controller that had been in his grip, now clattering to the floor. His hair was messed up and he was wearing his favorite comfy sweatsuit, and you … you were put together, as always. Your hair unwashed, but pulled up in a ponytail, and wearing that cardigan he liked so much on you. If he wasn’t so hurt, just the sight of you would have him on his knees right now, begging to have you.

He had to turn around and walk away. If he didn’t right now, he’d just –

“Wait,” you said, walking in and closing the door when he spun away. “Please, don’t. I –”

“What could you possibly say?” He snapped, facing you once again. You had never heard his voice at this octave before, never seen so much distress on his face. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you wouldn’t cut me off out of nowhere. As if I’m just some guy you met at a bar last weekend.”

Your mouth opened, and then closed. 

“Do you … do you even understand how worried I was about you?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice cracking for the first time in forever. You took a step closer to him. “You weren’t answering me and I just … my head went to the worst. I thought Mingyu was gonna kill me the next time I mentioned your name. And then, to see you at work and realizing that you were actually just ghosting me was a fucking punch to the gut. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. But I’m so pissed at you for hurting my feelings that I’m not even sure if I wanna know.”

“Wonwoo –” You started.

“Please, don’t say my name like that,” he sighed and pinched his nose. “I realize that you came all this way to finally break the news to me, but I’m good. It’s very obvious to me now that you don’t like me as much as I like you, and to save us the pity party, let me get you home –” He reached for his wallet to grab some cash for your next taxi.

But you interrupted before he could finish.

“I love you.”

He paused, looking up and making sure he heard you right. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said it again, and it felt so freeing to have this weight lifted off your shoulders. You moved closer, now standing a foot away, but refusing to touch him for your own good. “And I’m not just telling you that as an excuse. Ignoring you was cruel and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I just … when I realized how deep my feelings for you were …” Your throat closed up, as if your body was acting on instinct, preventing you from being vulnerable with him.

Wonwoo closed the distance. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m right here with you.”

His voice was so reassuring – as always – opening you up like a blooming flower. And suddenly, your mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore and your nails stopped making crescent-shaped indents in your palm.

“I got scared,” you confessed, your gaze locked on his. “And I ran away, because that was the easiest thing to do. I thought ignoring you would be best for both of us, and I stubbornly didn’t want to hear your opinion on any of this. What I did was wrong and I … I hate myself when I do stuff like this to people I care about.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but he wiped them with his thumb before they could fall. You sniffled, noticing the hurt in his eyes had faded, replaced only by adoration. Your lips pursed as you searched his gaze.

“I’ve just … never allowed anyone to open me up like this. I’ve never given my feelings to someone and let them care for me.” You blinked, your eyes rimmed red. “I’ve hardly been able to comprehend my own feelings because I’ve been scared shitless of them in the first place. But I can’t … I can’t justify pushing you away anymore. Because I love you. I don’t like being alone anymore and all I ever want to do is see you. Sometimes I’m afraid if I stop holding you, you’ll disappear. You do so much for me; you literally fix something on my computer everyday. I think if I let you go right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and I –”

Wonwoo cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he kissed you like this: so gently with his palm cupping your jaw. You felt yourself relax when he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His tongue licked into your mouth, sighing with relief when the familiar taste of you entered his orbit again. The taste of coffee and peppermint gum and the peanut butter and jelly you definitely had for lunch today. It was everything he loved about you, and he smiled into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he said, “Sorry, I interrupted your monologue.”

“It’s okay. Someone needed to before I got into the Hamlet soliloquy I prepared.”

He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, and just that had a blush creeping to your cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, leaning back in to ghost his lips all over your face. Your warm breath fanned his mouth. “Just don’t do that again. I know I don’t show it very often, but I’m secretly very …” He smiled softer this time, pecking just slightly on the corner of your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting him all the more closer. “I know. I promise.” You brushed your nose over his. “If I ever ignore you for even a couple hours, you have full permission to annoy me on Slack.”

Wonwoo had to cover his mouth from letting out the loudest laugh possible, but it made you feel all the better to see him happy. You could spend forever seeing him this happy. You got up on your tiptoes just to stare at him more, to press yourself closer and feel his grin against your cheek.

But he was holding your face now, sighing down at you with a smile that almost made you swoon. “For the record,” he replied, “I love you too.” 

[angellekookie]

K, he's stalking me now 😭 damn 😭

@ktownshizzle

2025 carat revival : bias week wonwoo and his nose scrunch🥺 [source: x x x x ]

[seungcheorry]

"this is what you ate?", you ask wonwoo with a sigh, pointing at the proofs he probably should have ditched, and not just left at the sink.

wonwoo looks at you, then at the package of the frozen lasagna and the can of coke he had for dinner, then back at you again.

"um... yes?", he's not sure why he's asking either.

"wonwoo, babe..."

he watches you, sighing once again as you start to scramble around his kitchen. you grab pots, knives, condiments, and you hum when you find out there are enough fresh ingredients - god bless kim mingyu.

"what are you doing?"

"cooking you a proper dinner."

"love, i-"

"you're gonna wake up hungry in the middle of the night and get yet another unhealthy snack", you say, looking back at him. "might as well make you eat more right now. some real food."

you let wonwoo's murmur of 'lasagna is real food' passes - and he let's you cook him dinner;

you know, just because you want to, not because he loves it when you take care of him.

[scoupsakakitty]

i think a touching scenario would be 14th member reader who has always been treated coldly by leader scoups until one day they had a major breakdown, and he would realise he was being too harsh and they would reconcile 🙊

Breaking the Ice | Seventeen x Reader | Angst, Fluff

The practice room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling feet as the members ran through the choreography again. It was their third time in a row, and exhaustion was settling in, but no one dared to complain.

Except for Y/N, who was visibly struggling to keep up.

"Y/N, focus."

Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, his eyes locked onto her with the same cold intensity he always had when addressing her. The room fell silent for a split second before the music started again, but Y/N didn’t move.

Instead, she dropped her hands to her sides, clenched her jaw, and turned around. Without a word, she walked straight out of the room.

"Y/N—!" Joshua called after her, but she was already gone.

A few members exchanged glances, uncertain of what to do. Seungcheol remained still, his expression unreadable.

"Hyung, that was too much," Mingyu muttered.

"You’ve been really hard on her lately," Jeonghan added, watching him carefully.

Seungcheol exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. "She needs to keep up. This isn’t a game for her just because she’s the youngest."

"No one said it was," Wonwoo pointed out. "But maybe talk to her instead of just pushing her all the time."

For a moment, Seungcheol said nothing. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room.

He found her in the lounge, curled up on one of the couches with her face buried in her hands. She wasn’t crying—not loudly, at least. But the way her shoulders shook told him everything.

Seungcheol hesitated.

He wasn’t good at this—talking, fixing things with words. But he knew he had to say something.

"You ran off," he finally said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

Y/N flinched but didn’t look up. "Just go, Seungcheol."

He let out a quiet sigh. "No."

Her fists clenched. "Of course not. You always have to be in control, don’t you?" Her voice was unsteady. "Always watching, always criticizing, always making me feel like I don’t belong here."

Seungcheol’s chest tightened at her words.

"I don’t hate you," he said, his voice softer now.

She scoffed. "Could’ve fooled me."

He walked closer, stopping just before the couch. "I was never trying to make you feel like that."

"Then what were you trying to do?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought… if I was too soft on you, people wouldn’t take you seriously. That they’d see you as weaker because you’re the youngest. Because you’re the only girl."

Y/N finally looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"I wanted to make sure you were strong enough," he admitted. "But I didn’t realize I was just pushing you away instead."

Silence hung in the air between them. For the first time, Seungcheol wasn’t looking at her with cold, calculated eyes—there was regret in them now.

After a long moment, he hesitantly reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I’m sorry, Y/N."

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she gave a small nod.

"...Just don’t do it again," she muttered.

A quiet chuckle left him—relieved, almost. "I won’t."

And for the first time in a long time, Seungcheol’s presence didn’t feel like a burden to her. It felt safe.

[dokyumms]

nobody else matters

pairing: idol!wonwoo x nonidol!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 582

cw: anxiety, large crowds/paparazzi

a/n: this was a request sent by @yoongznme ! i personally don't have anxiety myself, so i did a little research, but it still may not be totally accurate. it was fun to try writing something new though! hope you enjoy ♡

click. flash. click.

cameras go off in quick succession, rapid bursts of white light flickering every second. it's all too bright, too fast, your eyes wavering over at every flash.

voices layer over one another- laughter, quick exchanges, calls from the photographers- you can't tell.

you shift on your heels, fingers curling around the thin strap of your purse. you don't belong here. it's obvious in the way people glance past you, their attention snapping to the real attraction- your boyfriend beside you.

wonwoo fits into this world with ease, lips pulling into a smile at a passing photographer and acknowledging a model you might've seen on a magazine somewhere. you, on the other hand, give unsure nods to those passing by. it feels like you're an observer; a guest at a party where you don't know anyone.

being in milan only makes it worse.

conversations circulate around you in a blur of italian, you don't get time to even attempt to interpret them, the words slipping out of your grasp before you can process them. every now and then you pick up on something familiar, a name or brand of some sort, but it only reminds you of how lost you are. you try to keep a neutral expression, hoping no one asks you anything and that you don't look as out of place as you feel.

wonwoo's used to this, the crowds, the cameras, all of it. he's done it hundreds of times before: posing, shaking hands, letting the weight of dozens of eyes settle on him without flinching. but then you catch it.

the slight tremor in his fingers as he adjusts his cuff.

it's small, barely noticeable. no one else sees it. not the photographers, not the executives murmuring his name, not the other celebrities who come to greet him. but you do. you've felt it before- the quiet unraveling under your skin, the way the body betrays the mind.

it becomes clearer when he gives you a glance. you can see the unease in his eyes, almost pleading for you. photographers try to capture what they see as a lovely moment between a couple while you try to figure out what to do.

it's becoming too much for him, he starts to fiddle around with the ring on his pinky, a reminder of how he got here in the first place. he's still looking at you though.

you want to help him, even though you're feeling a little anxious yourself. as you reach for his hand, there's a voice at the back of your mind. maybe this is the wrong choice, there's too many people around, you're too exposed. but with another peek at him, you pull him into your palm, untangling his hands.

looking back at him, you can see the tension start to slowly fade as your thumb rubs slow circles on the back of his hand. his breathing evens out a little, not focusing on the continuous flashing in front of him.

you give him a look, asking him if he's okay without needing to say the words. he nods, smiling at you gratefully.

as you both turn back to the cameras hand in hand, he leans to whisper into your ear, "thank you, love."

you know that this will all be posted on social media, the intimate moment you both shared, but it doesn't matter, you can dwell on it later. because nothing else mattered in those few seconds except you and him.

[macapunoz]

POSER! ; jeon wonwoo

level twenty nine : DONT clip me

word count : 0.5k (this would’ve been longer if i was evil and added the og idea)

mlist | prev ; next

🗯️ this chap is dedicated to user juyeoz cs she got a wonwoo dupe now and 2/3 pftbz is experiencing the wonwoo dupe canon event. Miumura You’re Next.

[🏷️] @miumura @juyeoz @codeinebelle @leehsngs @meowtella @i03jae @tastyluvr @leahhhher @02shuuu @luvlykiki @starshuas @potabletable @ivehypnosis @tacosandbitch @heeheesang @elegancefr @paradiseoflosers @rosiemain @lovekyr @mikemorningstar @meltinghershey

[mingumis]

redemption | jww

it's a beautiful thing, to be a protector.

on the day of her fifteenth birthday, a neglected princess disappears without a word, and when she returns to the court of her family and friends after almost a decade, they find that she has been sharpened into a lethal blade in desperate need of saving.

please refer to this lore drop for descriptions of the noble families and their roles within the royal court!

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader genres/themes: angst, fluff, romance tags: older brother!seokmin, sworn siblings!hoshixreader, princess!reader, generally set in a joseon-esque kingdom but medical technology is somewhat advanced (bc i'm too lazy to come up with period-specific alternatives aha) tw: neglectful parents, reader has some (many) issues, violence, mentions of killing and death, injuries and blood a/n: this took so long to complete sorry,, redemption is the longest completed thing that i've ever written aaaaaa it's quite rough around the edges, but it is my brainchild so i hope you will enjoy! wc: 13.8k

From your earliest memories, you’ve known that your parents haven’t loved you. It was no secret that while your mother had been ever-present during your older brother’s infancy, attentive to a fault, you had been reared by a nanny, an older great-aunt in a lesser branch of the clan whom you loved very much, but at the hands of another nonetheless. Despite your father’s assurance and your brother’s affection, there had always been a simmering hatred in your mother’s eyes whenever she’d looked at you, and you had known it, even as a child. 

At first, you wondered if it was because you were born a girl, but she had had Seokmin as a perfectly happy, doting son by the time of your birth. You wondered if it was because you had been too late to receive a spot on the throne, but your cousin, Chan, had already been born a year prior, receiving the birthright of Voice and completing the Triumvirate, so your mother had had no logical reason to despise you for merely that. 

You wondered if it was because you looked nothing like Seokmin, and consequently, nothing like her. Instead, everyone always insisted that you were the spitting image of your father’s youth. Adults of the royal Inner Circle and members of the court had insisted that siblings didn’t always have to look similar. After all, take a look at the Head, Heart, and Voice of the current generation; don’t each of them vary in height, looks, and demeanor? 

Seokmin remains the joyful, caring child that he was, while you, tainted by your father’s disinterest and your mother’s loathing, grow withdrawn and cynical. 

It’s no wonder that the court murmurs with rumors of your illegitimacy. 

To Seokmin’s credit, he has never once forsaken you. He shields you from your mother’s wrath, shares your father’s brief moments of attention, pulls you into the Inner Circle as if your place within is your birthright. Despite only being a few years older, he becomes your protector. 

But a brother’s love can nurture a young girl’s soul only so much. When you’re deemed too old to simper out from under your old nanny’s skirts, they send her away from the estate, back to her humble shack of a home. You remember howling and begging to be sent from the palace grounds with her, sniveling for days on end until finally, your own mother silently shot you the iciest of glares and put an end to your tantrum for good. 

Neglect turns a child resentful, and in you, the hatred grows inward. There’s a tempest that brews deep inside your stomach, churning like the eye of a storm. A fear that you’ll be forgotten by all, an anger that you’ve been overlooked by the ones who should love you most in this world, a longing for a larger role than the unwanted second daughter of a second son. 

On the eve of your fifteenth birthday, you slip from your room, with nothing but a single cloak in your possession, and disappear from the only world you’ve ever known. 

–

“Ready for your big, dramatic entrance?” 

You barely stir from your meditative state, legs folded tightly beneath you as you sit atop a neatly made bed. The inn had been clean enough, but the sounds of the other patrons had kept you awake all night. Not that your writhing nerves would have let you sleep at all, even if it had been quiet as a church. 

Gathering a shallow breath, you open your eyes against the early morning darkness, spying Kwon Soonyoung in the corner through the first beams of dawn trickling through the slits of the window. The First Blade of the kingdom, of your family’s dynasty, looks like a mere boy, facial features smudged and softened by the shadows. The only thing about him that gleams through the dim are his eyes, burning intensely, the gaze of a tiger. 

Your sworn brother gives you what you’re sure he considers an easy smile, but it looks like the taunting grin of a hunter watching its prey fall into a trap. It’s been eight years since you’ve run from home and arrived at the Kwons’ doorstep, begging for shelter and a chance to become a Blade. It’s been eight years that you’ve spent beside Soonyoung, training and bickering and bleeding with him. He’s the one who picked you up whenever you stumbled during the rigorous training regimen, the one who mended your bumps and scrapes and cuts and bruises. Sometimes, you still feel shivers at the realization of what a lethal weapon he is, despite it all. 

“Dramatic,” you echo through a scoff, finally detangling yourself from your pose and rolling the stiff muscles of your neck. “We’re going for my father’s funeral, not to cause a scene. Besides, I doubt there’ll be much fanfare for the likes of me.” 

Soonyoung shrugs, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he ambles up to the side of your bed. When he drops to a crouch to peer up into your face, you catch the barely-there concern, tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Despite everything, it makes you smile. “Why? Are you worried for me?” 

It’s the man’s turn to scoff as he shoots up to his feet, turning his back on you to stare out the window towards the ever-brightening sky. “The First Blade doesn’t worry about anything except the choice of his weapon when he kills.” There’s a slight jut to his lips as he speaks, and not for the first time, you wonder how he has ever become the bloodiest killer in the kingdom. 

“Well, good.” You rise and stalk over to the wooden wardrobe, where a single cloak, a relic of your past life, has been hung up. “Because I’m about two seconds away from hurling everything in my stomach up.” 

–

It’s strange, you think to yourself, how you’ve forgotten the way from the city to the palace grounds to the inner quadrants that belong to your family, but the moment you step foot past the threshold of your ancestors’ estate, your body seems to remember every footpath, every tree and its roots, every door and where it leads. 

Soonyoung slows his pace when he notices that you’ve fallen behind, eyes darting from the golden gingko trees lining the paths, to the intricately carved dragon gargoyles on every point of the ancient rooves, to the ripples that have been raked into the gravel meticulously by the servants. Everything is so familiar yet foreign, as if you have stepped into a world that once belonged to you but you no longer belong to. 

“Come on, Tigress.” Soonyoung prompts, voice not urging but firm. “The Circle awaits, and Jihoon hates to be kept waiting.” 

You nod absentmindedly and quicken your pace to catch up, nerves all but anxiously frayed now. 

Soonyoung leads you to a grand pagoda beside the glassy pond in the gardens. Your mother had loved it there, so as a child, you had avoided it at any means possible. As you approach closer, voices of varying pitch and volume and enthusiasm peal from the structure, and you try not to look at the various figures of the people within it. 

The First Blade stalks forward, calling out to his gathered friends. Thankfully, you’re still obscured behind him so it gives you a moment to catch a few breaths and still the hummingbird that seems to have gotten trapped inside your chest. 

A tiny voice in your head reminds you of the person you are now, the one that you have trained to become in the past eight years. You’ve completed the training that it takes to become a Blade, worked your way up from the bottom, in rudimentary lessons beside five-year-old Kwon boys and girls. You are no longer the spineless, vapid girl made small by every hateful glare from your mother. 

You force your head up, rolling your shoulders back and swallowing away the fear that threatens to make your knees buckle. 

Killing is like dancing, Soonyoung had once told you the words of his family. The battlefield is your stage. 

You were never a dancer. As much as you could keep up with Soonyoung’s intricate maneuvers in disarming, paralyzing, maiming, you could never follow through with a simple box step, feet tangling up with one another until you tripped and crumpled to the ground, glaring as he cackled. You were never a dancer but you are a performer, and you think that you finally understand the Kwon words when you walk up the steps to the pagoda and it feels like entering the fray of war.

Instantly, twelve pairs of eyes clap onto you, like lightning striking a tree. You look straight ahead, cooly meeting the stare of Lee Jihoon, the Ruby Dragon, future Head of the Triumvirate. Your cousin’s face betrays no emotions, and if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show an ounce of it. Merely, his eyes narrow so imperceptibly that only the trained vision of a Kwon Blade would catch. 

Soonyoung squares his own shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back like a soldier. In the firmest First Blade’s voice you’ve ever heard from him, he announces, “Might I introduce to the Ruby Dragon, Head of the Triumvirate, and the Blessed Inner Circle, her Royal Highness, the Dragon Diamond.” 

You slowly pull yourself into the same stance as your sworn brother, back and head straight, hands twined together behind your waist to keep them from trembling. A quick inhale and then the words that you’ve practiced over and over in your head since the day that you left home tumble from your lips. 

“I am the second child and only daughter of the late Heart. Upon completing the training as a Blade from the Kwon Clan, I have come to offer myself to the services of the Triumvirate as they see fit, if the Ruby Dragon and His Blessed Inner Circle will have me.” 

You’ve had the hood of your cloak pulled tightly over your head, but you tug it down, revealing yourself. You keep your attention on Jihoon, afraid that if it wanders through the crowd, you’ll seek out Seokmin and his face will be the undoing of your bravado.

Only a few feet before you, Jihoon, the Head of the Triumvirate, sovereign prince of the kingdom and all its lands and people, holds his head up high, slender neck straight. His carriage has remained as impeccable as you remember from your childhood, having been groomed into every bit the regal figure he is supposed to be. He’s swathed in layers of red, his color. You expect him to open his mouth, voice powerful and commanding, as he demands you to grovel at his feet for entrance into the court, but the silence stretches for a moment too long and you lift your gaze from his chin to his face proper. To your surprise, Jihoon merely grins impishly, as if he’s just caught you within an inside joke. 

“I was wondering when you’d make your appearance.” The Ruby Dragon’s voice lilts delicately, as if speaking in melody. 

You clamp your jaws shut tightly to prevent any hasty words from slipping through. Instead, you turn your head to Soonyoung, where the First Blade still stands at attention, expression impassive aside from a tiny twitch of his lips. You should have known. Soonyoung and Jihoon have been thick as thieves since birth. 

“You knew.” It’s a confirmation, rather than a question. 

Jihoon shrugs a single shoulder. “I’m the Head of this kingdom. I tend to know most things.” 

More and more memories come back to you as you sweep your gaze across the Inner Circle and recall the families, their callings. Of course. The Yoon Clan and their Whisperers would have caught news of your disappearance even before you landed at the Kwons’ doormat. The Boo Singers would have coaxed the secrets out of even the wind with their song. 

The realization that you might have not completely disappeared from your past life then begs the question. Did your brother–

Finally, finally, your defenses crumble and you’re seeking out the face of someone who existed as a god, radiant and warm, in the memories of your childhood. He’s there, much taller than when you last saw him, slender yet strong, like a taut bowstring. He’s older, and so are you, but he looks the same as he did when you left his side without so much as a goodbye. 

Seokmin stares right back at you, gaze hardened and unyielding. The shadows underneath his eyes clue you in to how sleepless the recent nights must have been for him, mourning the death of your father, handling the responsibilities that come with being the first son, the Heart of the Triumvirate, the only child left. No, not only the recent nights, every night past for the eight years of your absence. 

Suddenly, you feel your heart thudding, heavy in the pit of your stomach. Guilt trickles into your veins and poisons the bloodstream. You have no choice but to tip your head to your brother, in reverence, in apology, in condolence. 

Because the irrefutable truth in the tears clinging to his lashes is that until mere moments ago, Seokmin had believed that you had been all but dead. 

–

You wince at the deep pulsing ache in your head, pressing firmly and incessantly against your forehead. The lack of rest you’ve gotten the night prior finally catches up to you, but it’s too early to let go of your resolve. Once the Inner Circle had been dismissed by the Head and before he took off with Soonyoung, Seokmin had requested your presence at his wing of the estate, where you now stood, hovering before the doors to his living quarters, catching the trail ends of a conversation coming from within. 

“You kept my sister away from me for eight years.” Your brother’s voice comes clipped short, a bridled emotion simmering beneath the smooth placidity of his unwavering tone. If there’s one thing that you know well, it is anger, and the myriad of ways it appears in people. 

Soonyoung knows it well, too. He is the one who taught you to read it in others, after all. The First Blade waits a breath before he responds as gently as he can muster. 

“I did as the princess bade me. It was her wish for nobody to know. The others who acquired this knowledge did so of their own means; I did not tell a soul.”

“You watched her grow into a young woman while I was left to think that she died a child.” 

Seokmin isn’t listening. He’s losing the grip he holds over himself, throat warbling with more and more ire. Even as a child, he had been emotional, which, as the future Heart, their mother had celebrated. To be aware and cognizant of one’s feelings, understand their origins, and be able to apply them to rulings, was the mark of a wise and judicious Heart. Their father, however, had worried that Seokmin would be poignant to a fault. 

You understand his concerns now. Rage at the hands of someone who knows it well could be shackled like a wolf, kept at bay until the apt time came to loosen and utilize it. Rage at the hands of a stranger is nothing but a lit candle in the middle of a forest, wick nearing the end of its life, flame lapping at the kindling at its feet.

A wildfire waiting to happen.

You rap your knuckles against the heavy wooden door that divides you from the murmured argument. Both men on the other side fall silent until you clear your throat. 

“Brother, you called?”

You hear the hiccup of a heavy sigh. “Come in.”

As you swing open the entrance and press yourself inside cautiously, Soonyoung passes, stalking his exit briskly. You briefly catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking, but the First Blade merely nods at you before disappearing without a sound. 

Inside, Seokmin stands before his desk, back turned towards you and head bowed. The line of his shoulders quivers as he gathers his breaths, and you wait patiently, taking in the presence of your brother for the first time in a long time and marveling at how instantly you feel at home. 

When he finally shifts, looking at you over his shoulder, his eyes are guarded, careful. As if he doesn’t trust that you really are his sister. You cannot blame him. 

“You’ll have to excuse the state that I am in,” Seokmin sighs again, lifting a palm to drag across his face. “It has been a whirlwind of a few days.” 

You dip your head. “And I’m sure I haven’t made things any easier,” you try to break the ice delicately, but your voice sounds too thin against the gravity of the atmosphere. Instead, you offer, “My sincerest condolences for your loss of the former Heart. I cannot begin to imagine the grief you must feel.” 

Your brother’s face twists into a mask of confusion to hide the contortion of pain in it. “He was your father, too,” he reminds quietly, as if allowing you the grace to mourn. 

When word of your father’s death had echoed through the palace, arriving in the Kwons’ courtyards on the wings of a Songbird, you had felt no grief. Merely, your heart ached for your brother, who you knew had loved your father, from leagues away, wondering if he could hear your words of comfort for him on the breeze. 

Gently, you say, “He loved you more than he ever loved me.” 

No matter how kind of a lie it would be, Seokmin never holds an untruth on his tongue, so he elects to remain quiet instead. He takes another stretch of silence as a pause, and you watch as your brother gathers himself, slowly but steadily, into the prince that is required of him. For the first time since morning, his eyes are wiped dry, spine pulled into a straight, solid column, as he struggles to press his lips into a smile.

“I am glad that you are not dead, my sister.” 

You bow your head again. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons.” Seokmin’s words come kindly, but his gaze searches yours, imploring for answers. Out of a primal, animal instinct, you throw your walls back up, the tiny hairs on your nape bristling. Perceptive as ever, your brother gives the smallest of nods and backs off. 

“I’m sorry for deceiving you for so long,” you continue your litany of regrets, nerves grating raw until you get every single one on your list off your chest. 

Your brother’s expression flickers with hurt, and he holds a hand up, halting you in the midst of your next sentence. “We–” He winces, “We’ll have to continue talking about that another time.” Seokmin exhales heavily, and you wonder if his lungs will fare alright with all this sighing. “I called you here because I thought we might discuss some family matters.” 

You blink in surprise, first at the sudden formality of his tone, then at the inclusion of you within the topic. Sure, technicalities make you part of the family on paper, but you had lived the past eight years, denying your membership in the Lee dynasty, taking on Soonyoung’s dumb nickname for you in a defiant act of renouncing your given name. Just a few hours ago, your brother had thought you good and dead. You cannot help but feel unworthy of his ready acceptance of your return. 

You shift nervously from foot to foot, watching impatiently as Seokmin circles the corner of his desk and sinks into his seat on the opposite side of the wooden counter from you. He tilts his head curiously, nodding at the chair before you to sit. 

“I–” You start, but your voice gets caught somewhere in your throat as you realize that you’re not sure what exactly to say. Obediently, you awkwardly settle onto the cushioned armchair, grasping for some semblance of intellect. The Kwons had been a clan of few words, choosing to speak with their fists or weapons whenever they could. You’d grown out of practice in the solemn palatial manner of speaking. 

Seokmin waits until he seems sure that you have nothing left to say. “The late Heart’s funeral is set to take place in two days, and almost all of the preparations have been completed. His body will be held by the Redeemers until the pyre is lit. Would you like to view him in private before the ceremony?”

Your eyes flutter shut. In the swirling depths of your childhood recollections, you catch fleeting glimpses of your father, who everyone claimed you looked like. Whenever you stared in the mirror at yourself, you pored over every feature, wondering if your father scowled the way you did, frowned the way you did, glowered the way you did. From the few snatches of memories, you had decided that he did, in fact, carry the same mask of gloom as you. You never remember your father’s smile in your own. 

“No.” The word escapes before you can even think to hold it in, for the sake of sparing your brother’s feelings, at least. “No need to go through all that trouble for a wayward daughter,” you quickly amend. 

To your brother’s credit, he simply moves on. “We, obviously, did not expect your presence in the processions,” Seokmin says with an apologetic grimace, as if he is the one at fault for being unprepared. “But the Kims have a daughter, Mingyu’s sister, who I believe is roughly the same build as you, and she has offered to lend you some of her clothing for the ceremony.” You nod along to his words gratefully, until he quietly murmurs, “I don’t think Mother’s old clothes would work.” Your breath hitches. Blurred edges narrow the scope of your vision, clouding your brother’s face, and suddenly, you’re back in the body of the apprehensive, frightened little girl, who trembled like a leaf at every little thing that reminded her of her mother. For all of the agonizing that you had done over reuniting with your brother, attending your father’s funeral, you had, somehow, neglected to consider the presence of your mother in all of this. Perhaps you hadn’t wanted to. 

Seokmin calling your name wrenches you back into your current body, the sound of your given name and on the lips of your brother, no less, startling you into the present. He examines you wordlessly, prompting a response. 

“Mother.” The name lodges in your throat until you clear it and spit it out into existence. “Is she well?” It pains you to ask. 

Your brother frowns, forehead creasing and fingers coming up to knead at his temples. “Not entirely,” he hesitates. “She lives, but I’m afraid that Father’s passing has caused her a lot of mental distress. She requested for a royal pardon from the Head to be absent from the funeral processions and has left for her family’s estate.” 

You suppose that you should be relieved, having been spared a reunion with your mother, the phantom that has haunted your every nightmare since childhood. Instead, a wash of disappointment bitters your tongue. 

“A pity,” you say, hollowly. 

There’s a knowing shadow that flickers across Seokmin’s expression that you just barely notice before it’s gone. Neither of you acknowledge the moment before your brother proceeds with his agenda. 

–

“Your Highness,” the boy indulges you with a quick dip of his chin before brazenly hurrying away, as if he could not stand another moment accompanying you. The servants of the palace, overwhelmed with the preparations for your father’s funeral, had already been buzzing here and there, and your appearance, you’re sure, had not been a welcome one at all. Just within a night’s stay, you could almost taste their wariness in the few interactions you had had with them. 

Fortunately, you’d been able to grab hold of a passing stableboy for the brief walk it took for him to escort you westward to the physician’s pavilion, where Seokmin had insisted you at least receive a glance over from the First Redeemer. “To ease my mind in the matters of your wellbeing, at least,” he had said with wide, pleading eyes. 

You couldn’t have refused him that. 

As you climb the steps to the pavilion, you reach into your oldest memories, recalling everything that you know about the clan of Redeemers. Your father’s physician had been the figurehead of the Jeon family, a man just a few years older than him, with a thin, friendly visage and the heavy twang of a dialect from the outer provinces. Satisfied with the expectation of the faint image conjured up in your mind, you turn the corner into a hallway and announce your arrival with a knock into the first door on your left, as instructed by the rude attendant. 

“Come in.” The voice that answers rumbles low and deep, with barely a lilt of the accent that you thought you remembered. 

When you slip past the sliding doors to the vast room that awaits on the other side, your attention lands onto the silhouette of a man in the far corner, as he attends to a large shelf almost as tall as him. From your vantage, all you can catch is his side profile, a delicate pair of eyeglasses perched atop the bridge of his nose. Black hair cropped short, face like a dagger, all of his features angled and sharp. He’s young, much younger than the blurred memories of your past, and you blink in surprise when he shifts to look up at you. 

“Ah.”

“I’m looking for the First Redeemer. The Heart scheduled a meeting for me.”

The man slides a book onto the shelf from the crook of his arm, nodding a few times before fully turning towards you. “That would be me,” he finally speaks more than a few words at a time, lips quirking into a smile that looks a little innocent compared to the previously aloof expression he had been wearing. “Jeon Wonwoo.” He crosses over the distance between in a few strides, holding a hand out in greeting. 

You clasp his palm with yours, admiring the slide of his smooth skin against your own, uncouth with callouses. Back in the early days of your residence at the Kwon estate, you had practically lived with a blade in your hands, determined to shed off your clumsiness and catch up to the children who were eternally more graceful than you. When your blisters popped and your raw palms tore and you cried for the first time since you ran, Soonyoung had wrapped them up in strips of cloth, muttering, “Stop crying. Soft hands make for soft people. This is you getting stronger.” 

Despite his smooth, soft palms, your first impression of Wonwoo is not that he would be weak. Your face warms a little at the thought, and you lower your gaze to stare at his nose, murmuring, “I remember my father’s Redeemer being much older.” 

Wonwoo laughs, a quick bark of mirth, as if he hadn’t expected to be humored, and you can’t help but grin too. “That would be my father,” he responds, pulling his arm back to his side, much to your disappointment. “I took over his position just a year ago, when he stepped down to handle the enterprises.” He gestures for you to take a seat in an armchair placed beside a massive work desk, made of glass and metal. 

You obey and sit, skin prickling with anticipation. The Redeemer shuffles around his desk, pulling drawers open and picking out various items, not many of which you’re familiar with. Watching the wide expanse of his back, flush against his silken robes of violet as he moves, you swallow the tight knot in your throat, mouth dry. You drop your gaze shamefully, before the cinch of the sash accentuating his narrow waist greedily takes over your attention again. 

It’s not like you haven’t been in the presence of a grown man before. Though the Kwons had provided you a private room of your own, you had preferred the barracks of your fellow Blades in training, hopelessly lonely in a silent room, leagues away from home. Once Soonyoung had offered you his blood and his life and you had promised yours to him, he had cleared away a corner of his own quarters, shoving a cot into it for you to sleep in instead. You’d seen the First Blade through most things, as he sweat through his shirts during training, as he opted to sleep bare chested during the humid summer nights, as he sagged against you, bleeding from a nasty slash that split his skin in half and left a canyon of a scar across his back. 

You shut your eyes against that image, suppressing a shudder and trying to shake away the memory of panic and despair that had consumed you, imagining the possibility of losing another brother. 

“Nervous?” 

You jerk your head up, unexpectedly meeting his gaze, and all thoughts scatter beneath the scrutiny of his sharp eyes. Wonwoo has shut all of the drawers of his desk and carefully arranged the array of tools that picked out onto a neatly folded towel. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, which you puzzle over until you realize that your breath has caught shallowly in your chest, turning your inhales and exhales into quick, accented huffs. 

Embarrassed, and a little shy, at having lost the hold you try to keep over your emotions, you give a sheepish shake of your head. “No, I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.” 

“Does that happen often?” 

The man’s demeanor shifts ever so slightly, but it’s enough for you to realize that he has reoriented himself into the First Redeemer. Belatedly, you pull yourself into a proper sitting form, putting on airs to at least look the part of the royalty you’re supposed to be. 

“Sometimes,” you shrug. “It’s something Soonyoung says I have to work on. Keeping my emotions under control.” 

Wonwoo snorts, before muttering, “Rich, coming from him.” 

You’d agree with him, but the curiosity sparked by his familiarity of scoffing at the First Blade grows stronger than the desire to tease Soonyoung out of earshot. “Are you two close? He…never really mentioned the palace to me while I lived with the Kwons.” 

Wonwoo reaches for his desk, picking up a stethoscope as he hums. “Sure, we grew up together,” he smiles as he plugs his ears and holds the bell firmly against your chest. “Blades are always getting hurt, and they’re always in need of Redeemers. Breathe in.” The instruction he ends with dips low in pitch and sends a shiver up your spine, and an inhale snags within your throat in a hasty attempt to comply. 

In, out, in, out, he directs, and you follow as steadily as you can manage, trying desperately not to look up at his face, down at his hands, ahead at his chest so close to your own. It feels like an eternity later when he leans back, pulling the stethoscope off. When you can finally manage to sneak a glance, Wonwoo’s nose is scrunched in concentration as he counts numbers in his head. 

“Heartbeat’s a little faster than what’s considered average,” he thinks out loud, and you’re mortified, cheeks immediately flushing hot. You shift in the armchair, wondering if you should say something, pull some excuse out of your ass to explain for it, something, anything. 

“There you are!” 

The doors slide open, and you heave a sigh of relief when the sudden crashing of noises shatters the stifling silence that has settled over the room. You whip around to find Kim Mingyu at the entrance to the room, his giant hulking frame crumpled as he catches his breath. 

An exasperated sigh eludes Wonwoo, “What is it, Mingyu?” 

The Sentinel lifts from where he’s bent over, hands against his knees. “Well, I was supposed to escort the princess here, but when I got to the estate, the servants told me that you harassed a stableboy to take you instead.” You roll your eyes at your brother’s best friend, amused at the wrinkles in his clothes in his rush to find you, at the hiss of a lisp that he doesn’t seem to have corrected since childhood. “I waited fifteen minutes for you. I wasn’t going to be late on account of you.” 

Mingyu pulls over a wooden chair from a corner of the room with much familiarity, clicking his tongue. “Five more minutes, and I would’ve been there.”

Wonwoo muses, “You probably overslept.” He dips his head towards you like he’s sharing a secret, and you marvel when his cheek dimples slightly. “It’s his fatal flaw.” When Mingyu huffs, “It’s my only flaw,” you barely pay him any mind, the image of Wonwoo’s smile etched into the back of your eyelids. 

–

“Heard you and the First Redeemer are friends,” you ponder mildly, sidestepping a well-placed sweep that Soonyoung crouches to throw out. 

The First Blade makes a satisfied hum before he straightens. “Wonwoo?” The name that he calls out curiously makes your stomach warm. 

“Mmhm.” 

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering.” “I’m telling Seokmin.” “Telling him what?”

“That it has been two days since you’ve reentered the palace and that you’re already eyeing pretty boys.” 

You bite, like a fool. “You think Wonwoo’s pretty?”

Thwack. 

Soonyoung cuts you a glare, but his mouth curls into a satisfied grin. He clears his throat, pulling his arm back from the smack he’s landed on your shoulder. 

“We are mere hours from burning your father’s body,” your sworn brother deadpans, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. “Have some decorum.” He pulls away, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the hem of his shirt. 

You wrinkle your nose in offense, spitting, “Fuck off. Low blow.” 

The First Blade snickers, which makes you snort, and for once, you’re glad for the daily schedule that he keeps that requires you to spar with him at dawn. If others had overheard the crass conversation ringing through the courtyard, they surely would have condemned the lack of grief you displayed for your recently deceased father. 

After the training session, you barely have enough time to scrub and wash the sweat from your skin, before attendants are swarming over you, brushing your hair, smearing powder against your sun-burnished face, pressing you into a wardrobe of lended clothes. Mingyu’s little sister must have grown a yard in your absence because her clothes drape onto the floor, and the servants flutter about, fastening metal pins here and there to match the length to your height.

The skirt and overcoat are cobalt blue, your brother’s color, and you run your fingertips against the imperceptible pinpricks, where you’re certain that the red wolf of the Kims have been ripped from the cloth. A skilled embroiderer has hastily replaced the image with the stitching of a dragon in a white thread that shimmers silver when you pull it up to glance at the details in the lighting. As a child, you had always hated being born under a Diamond moon, feeling left out even in the assignment of a personal color. Now, as you admire the handiwork, you warm a little at the artisan’s attempt to represent your color in a manner that goes beyond just the color white. 

Once the pampering has been completed, the attendants place you before a mirror before leaving your room in a flitter. The woman that reflects back at you looks misplaced in such an ornate robe, meant for noble ladies. You trace your gaze from head to toe, contemplating the face that everyone claims you inherited from your father, attention catching at the top of your cheekbone, where they caked a bunch of powder to obscure a tiny scar that Soonyoung gave you as bickering teenagers. Your hair, brushed to a shine for the first time since you’ve left home, holds only a single white pin, meant for the chief mourners to wear. You feel absurd, having dressed up for an affair that doesn’t involve you, wearing a dutiful daughter’s symbol of grief when your bleak heart doesn’t even stir for your deceased father. 

You stand in front of the mirror for a long time, unmoving, until a quiet cough from outside announces Mingyu’s presence to escort you to the pyre. Mumbling out a response, you take one last breath, grasping at all the ugly thoughts that threaten to spill out from you and swallowing them back in, hoping that they’ll stay contained in the depths of your stomach at least until the day is over. 

When you emerge, Mingyu beams at you so brightly that you wonder if he knows that he’s bringing you to a funeral. “My sister’s dress seems like it worked out,” he inspects, nodding thoughtfully. “She’s tall,” you comment, lifting at the hem of the skirt to reveal where it's been pinned back. “The attendants were all but convinced I was doomed and the gods would condemn me for wearing a dress too long for my legs.”

Mingyu chortles, “Well, I suppose it runs in the family.” He preens, puffing out his own chest to stretch his own height out taller before tripping over a tiny pebble, and he’s so ridiculous that it makes you laugh. 

The Sentinel merely flashes you a grin, as if relieved.

As is tradition, the funeral takes place in the innermost courtyard within the palace grounds, strictly out of public view in the rear gardens that are considered sacred and visited by the gods. The pyre has been constructed extravagantly, out of large slabs of red pine, fit for a member of the Triumvirate. Onto the uppermost slab, your father’s body, wrapped tightly in white strips of cloth, has been laid. From the ground, he looks tiny, insignificant in the vastness of the world. You avert your eyes quickly, discomfort pricking at your nape. 

The attendance is kept small, meant only for members of the royal family and their Inner Circle, but that means that the Kwons have trekked their way up to the city for the ceremony. Mingyu leads you beside them, making sure that you’ve been delivered safely to the clan of Blades before he slips away to his own family with a wink. 

Lady Kwon breathes a quiet gasp when you tug at her sleeve with a smile before she pulls you into an embrace. In the years of your residence at the Kwon estate, she had never once complained of your imposition, taking you in effortlessly as if simply gaining another child. She now fusses over you, despite only having been apart for a few days, brow furrowed, the spitting image of her son. 

“I’m alright,” you assure with a quiet chuff, leaning around her to greet Lord Kwon with a quick dip of your head. 

“Mom, you coddle her too much,” Soonyoung grumbles as he also steps in line beside you. He, for once, has cleaned himself up, dapper in the gold and black of his clan. Though he tugs at the tight collar of his overcoat uncomfortably, he looks more at ease in the formal wear than you, the proper image of a First Blade. He completes his own inspection of you, lips curling in amusement, “Guess you are a princess after all, huh?” 

The window of opportunity for you to retort back closes with Jihoon’s appearance and the subsequent sweeping of everyone dipping towards the Head in reverence. When you straighten from your bow, your gaze jumps across the gathering, as if lured by a silent call, to where Wonwoo stands beside his father, both wearing violet. When Wonwoo lifts his head up, he notices you too and offers a polite nod, which you return with a flutter in your stomach. 

Jihoon calls the ceremony to a start, and the first order of business brings in a shaman to lead a series of rituals to exorcise evil spirits that may attach themselves in the presence of death and to help guide the spirit of the deceased to a peaceful afterlife. Once the rites have been completed, the gathering parts for one of Jihoon’s higher court historians, who has been granted the role of recording down the details of the ceremony. The attendant stands before the crowd, holding a scroll out and reading from it. “We mark today as a most sorrowful day as we part with the former Heart of our exalted Triumvirate. The late Heart is survived by the subsequent Heart, the Sapphire Dragon, his first son.” A hush settles over the gathering as the historian hesitates and hastily adds, “And, er, her Royal Highness, the Diamond Dragon, his daughter.” 

You prickle at the unwanted designation, keeping your gaze cast low towards the ground. From your left, Soonyoung offers you his hand, palm faced up. You reach for it, fingers twining tightly around his. 

Once the formal announcements have been made, Jihoon wordlessly hands over his post to Seokmin, and you watch as your brother takes his place at the center of the gathering, right in front of the pyre. He looks nervous, you think, and your heart aches for him, for the tint of red in his watery eyes. Before he starts, Seokmin looks towards you, and you try to press your lips into a reassuring smile. 

Your brother, who loved your father despite all of his shortcomings, lets a single tear fall. “I speak before you all today so that I may impart my father’s legacy within you as witnesses. My father, the former Heart of the Triumvirate, was not a perfect man, but I knew that he loved me and that I loved him.” 

You listen to Seokmin’s stories of your father throughout his childhood. Of when he broke your mother’s favorite vase and your father helped him sweep the shards away and took the blame for it. Of when Seokmin fell asleep at the desk during his Heart lessons and your father let him sleep for the rest of the session. Despite it all, you find yourself smiling at his memories of the loving father that you never got to experience. 

Your brother had asked, if you had also wanted a chance to speak at the ceremony. At that time, you had instantly refused without much thought. Now, as you hear Seokmin’s speech, you realize that you wouldn’t have a single fond memory of your father to share. 

The proceeding comes to an end with Seokmin, calling for whoever wants to say a personal farewell to come up to the pyre. The Kwons make their way up, leaving you and Soonyoung behind. 

You watch the queue of the former Inner Circle members go up one by one to dip their head to your father’s body, murmuring quiet words to send him off to the afterlife. Curiously, you note that all of these people seem to have a myriad of things to say, while you, his child, cannot come up with a single kind word for him. 

“Oh, man,” Soonyoung groans softly, “Mom’s crying.” 

You follow the crook of his finger, where Lady Kwon, sure enough, dabs at her eyes as she waits for her turn, whereas you, his daughter, cannot even squeeze out a single tear for him. 

The First Blade squirms at your silence, squeezing at your fingers still clutched in his. “Tigress, you alright?” 

You’re mute as everyone says their goodbyes, as Seokmin receives the lit torch and presses it against the pyre, as the flames leap from slab to slab until it consumes your father’s body and swallows it whole. 

Your father who leaves you, in a giant plume of smoke and ashes, with nothing but his face to remember him by. 

–

You’re in a dream. You know that you’re in a dream because although it hasn’t happened in years, you’ve been here before, in this dark, directionless world with swarming shadows that bind over your body and cut you with their sharp edges. There was a time when you’d grown quite adept at identifying the illusion and had been able to force yourself awake and into reality within a mere handful of minutes. 

You suck in a deep breath, hold it in your chest, and shudder as it releases, but there’s no signs of waking up. In fact, the shadows grow clearer, sharper, and bite into your arms and legs and torso with more conviction. You hold back a yelp, trying to gather your concentration into escaping. It gets harder and harder to focus when the pain shifts from stinging to burning and more and more blood sluices from the wounds. 

Weak. 

The first of the voices hisses, and you realize that you’ve lost the opening to escape. When the whispers start, you sink one level deeper into the darkness, rendering you paralyzed with fear and leaving you to endure through the dream until your body wakes on its own. 

Useless. Worthless. 

Your own parents abandoned you. What makes you think that the Kwons won’t too?

The poor Heart only has you left as his remaining family. 

The First Blade is a fool for swearing his life to yours. You’ll get him killed one of these days. 

Because you’re weak. 

Because you’re weak. 

Because you’re weak. 

You wince feebly, straining against the tethers that the shadows have formed into, unable to do much but lie there, suspended in a web of the truths you’ve been desperately trying to outrun. 

It could have been hours or days later when you open your eyes again, this time to a darkness that glows blue, not black. Moments pass as you blink at the sky above, and another handful of seconds later, you recognize the pattern of wood as the ceiling of your room. You’ve woken up from the nightmare in the midnight calm of your childhood bedroom, and suddenly, you relive the early morning of your fifteenth birthday, when you had woken up from a similar dream and decided that you had to run. 

You wrench yourself out of bed, detangling your limbs from where the sweat-soaked blankets have wound themselves around you. 

Soonyoung is your first coherent thought. The few times that he had witnessed your nightmares, he had sat awake with you for the rest of the night. A silent but steady presence. But he left after the funeral earlier to accompany his parents back home. He won’t be back for a few days. 

You think about Seokmin, but he had all but disappeared into his quarters upon lighting the pyre, looking withdrawn and exhausted. Your brother deserves his rest and his peace. 

There’s nobody to seek out, nowhere to go. You can’t stay here in the confines of your mind. You slip out into the frigid night, breath crystallizing in a white cloud that reminds you of the smoke from earlier that day. Your vision flashes with the red and orange and gold of the flames on the pyre. 

Washed white under the moonlight, the courtyard flickers hazily, as if you’re still stuck within a world of dreams. The thought unsettles you. You take off, feet frantic as it leads you somewhere, anywhere. The recognition of the paths within your family’s estate when you first returned quickly dissipates as you round corner after corner. In your desperation and the confusion that the cloak of night brings, you find yourself losing your way, deeper and deeper in the bowels of the palace grounds. The palace is silent and still, punctuated only by the rough drag of your lungs as you take painful gulps of the freezing air. 

Where am I? What am I doing here? Why am I back at Court? Did I really think that they’d welcome me that easily? 

You slow your pace, shaking your head in hopes of defying the voices that have followed you out from the dreams. The shadows are here too. You can feel their edges tightening and nipping into your skin. It’s no longer an illusion but real life. 

“Princess?” 

A voice, a real human voice, shatters the ever-darkening night, and you latch onto it greedily, desperately. When you lift your head, panting all the while, he’s there, like a savior gleaming in the moonlight. The sight of him shocks you awake because there’s no way that something so gentle, so alluring would exist in your nightmares. You return to yourself haltingly, unable to look away as your heartbeat settles and then steadies. 

Wonwoo has discovered you, wandering before the physician’s pavilion in the dead of night, feet and shoulders bare, having neglected a cloak to drape over your nightwear. You barely notice that you’re trembling until the Redeemer crosses over the courtyard to where you stand, pulling at his own coat to place around you, wrapping you in a swell of warmth and the scent of lilac that instantly begin to seep into your bones. 

The man doesn’t say anything as he winds an arm around your shoulders and begins guiding you forward. You keep your head dipped low, eyes glued to the ground, as you follow in shame. The brief journey ends with Wonwoo tucking you into a hallway and closing a door behind the both of you. For a moment, there’s nothing but darkness and you feel the stab of panic again until you hear the strike of a match, see a tiny flame tossed into a furnace. The room that appeared as a yawning void opens up with light, and you peer around, gathering details and piecing together an impression. 

Along the leftmost wall, you catch the counter of a tavern, fashioned from a long, polished slice of wood. Beneath the surface lines an array of barstools, each standing at varying heights. On the opposite end of the room, a cluster of armchairs and lounge chairs have been gathered, a hodge-podge collection of furniture. The fabrics and leathers of the seats are worn and sunken in with use, which is a comforting thought, as if people have lovingly used them as intended, unlike the pristine condition of everything else in the palatial rooms. 

“Where are we?” You croak, wincing at the sound of your own voice, cold and ragged, in the warmth of the mysterious room. 

Wonwoo remains quiet, pattering around the room to throw more kindling into the fire, to strike another match and start up the stove, to shake some leaves into a pot for tea. When he finally stops bustling, he returns to your side, an arm a steadying brace again at the small of your back, as he guides you to sit in one of the couches. 

You sink into the plush seat, staring up at him patiently, while he busies himself to fasten the cloak still over your shoulders tighter, tugging over a blanket from another chair to pull over your lap. You want to tell him to stop, stop moving, stop fussing, but there’s such a determination set to the clench of his jaw and the crease in his brow that trying to stop him feels like a transgression. 

Instead, you decide to steal this opportunity for yourself, slowly observing the man that you’ve already become so inclined towards. Without his overcoat in the way, the strong line of his shoulders outlines his figure, giving way to lean arms, narrow waist, an expanse of legs. The short clipped style that he wears his hair in, his angled face, his slender yet strong build, everything about him leans towards the image of a soldier, much like the ones who you trained as Blades beside. And yet, you recall the dimpled smile as he quietly teased Mingyu, the soft skin and slender wrists of a hand that has never felt the heft of a weapon, the lingering touches that have been nothing but gentle. The juxtaposition bewitches you, and you fall headfirst into the charm. 

Beautiful, the thought forms effortlessly. 

The Redeemer comes over, finally, dipping to a knee in front of you to close your fingers around a clay vessel, hot and fragrant with tea. He insists with a nod until you take a sip, hold the mouthful to savor its warmth, before swallowing it. Ever so slightly, the tension in the grit of his teeth eases, and he takes a drink from his own cup, motionless in his kneel at your feet. Several heartbeats of silence follow until he breaks it with a murmur. “This is the safe haven I’ve created, away from the court, away from the nobility.” Wonwoo wears a modestly proud smile. “It’s meant for all of us. The Circle and the Triumvirate, I mean. Though Soonyoung likes to take advantage of it as his own personal clinic.” He adds the last bit with a fond scowl. 

You contemplate his words, taking another analysis of the space. Tucked away into a corner, there is a trunk, not unlike the one in his office at the pavilion. You guess that it would similarly contain a supply of medical equipment. 

With every subsequent sip, the tea that Wonwoo brewed brings you an inch closer to reality. Once you near the bottom of the cup, the Redeemer finally ventures to ask. “What happened?”

You think that you would be able to answer him, if he wasn’t so earnestly peering up at you from the floor. With a sobering surge of courage, you tell him so, motioning for him to come up beside you on the cushions. Wonwoo sits so close that your shoulder brushes his and you smell the lilac that seems to cling to him like a second skin. 

It’s not hard to find the words to say. After all, you’ve had this conversation once already. A few years ago, when Soonyoung had caught you readying yourself to run again, on a night so dark that the shadows swirled and suspended in the air, like ink in water. He had held you at arm’s length by the shoulders, demanded what was required of him to stop you from disappearing from your family and life for the second time. 

“I have these dreams. These nightmares. Shadows cut into my skin and make me bleed, but they’re not as bad as the voices. They tell me the things that I want to avoid accepting.” 

Wonwoo takes it all in stride, politely keeping his eyes off of you as he stares down into his mug and inquires, “What kinds of things?” 

“That I’m not enough. That I’m going to let everyone down.” 

He considers this in silence, leaving the space for you to continue talking, as if now that you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop. 

“They tell me that Soonyoung is a fool for swearing an oath with me because I’m weak. Inevitably, he’s going to die because I’m going to fail to protect him. They tell me my parents didn’t love me because I’m no use to them.”

Wonwoo bristles against you, his entire body growing taut and still. “Do you really believe that?”

You close your eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter if I believe it or not. It’s the truth.” 

Whether intentional or not, the conversation lulls to an end, and the warmth of the room drains the adrenaline from your restless night, easing you into the blurred boundary of being conscious and asleep. 

When you wake, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room, cheek pressed against a warm, worn leather. Haltingly, you come to each of your senses. The soft cotton of a blanket that has covered you overnight. The musty scent of a secret room and the drying peels of oranges laid out to combat it. Water babbling as it boils in a kettle. Pale sunlight filtering through the window slits. 

You press yourself up to sit, seeking out the one presence in the room that you couldn’t stop thinking about even as you dozed restlessly. Wonwoo, despite having spent the night in this stale room, looks as undisturbed as always. He doesn’t look up from his hunch over the tea that he’s meticulously tending to when he calls, “I’m to report to the Head’s living quarters later this morning for a routine check-up. Would you like to accompany me?” 

You blink, stunned at the request from the Redeemer, who has actual responsibilities within the court, unlike you. You should politely deny the offer. You should pretend to be preoccupied with other prior commitments, play the false part of a princess who is beloved and desired and important. Instead, your heart betrays your head, and you nod wordlessly. 

Later, when Wonwoo has completed his business, the two of you amble through Jihoon’s courtyard, enjoying the rare sunlit morning. 

“Plum blossoms,” Wonwoo says thoughtfully, tall enough that when he reaches up, his fingertips brush against the buds that are beginning to sprout their white and pink petals. “They flower in the late winter. You’re supposed to prune them right after they flower, to help them grow better.” You hum curiously, craning your neck to admire the massive tree stretching wide above. “The symbol of the Lee Clan,” you muse, “And yet only Jihoon’s yard gets to have them planted in it.” 

“He probably doesn’t even realize that they’re here,” Wonwoo’s laughter makes his voice trill, and you beam at the branches, fighting to hide it away from him. 

“When I was a kid, I used to beg my nanny to sneak me away from home and come over to see the flowers here,” you reminisce, the taste of the memory bittersweet on your tongue. “Our yard only has gingkos, so everything was bare during the wintertime.” 

A smile plays at the man’s lips. “A nanny? That’s very princess-y of you.” 

You snort in response before you can even think to hold it in, “Only because my mother didn’t want to have anything to do with me.” Wonwoo’s face falls, and you snicker at his dismay. “Don’t worry, everyone’s known this for decades at this point.” 

The Redeemer’s mouth twists in deliberation as he tips his head to the side, wondering if it’s the truth or if you’re just trying to make him feel better. He flusters on, choosing to change the subject. 

“My parents refused to let anybody intervene with their parenting,” he shrugs. “They didn’t let anybody coddle or reprimand us. They decided that the best and the worst should always come from the parents.” Wonwoo laughs, but there’s a misty rasp to it, as if nostalgia threatens to steal him away. Shaking his head, he reaches overhead and pinches to pluck a tiny blossom off, delicate in his lithe fingers. 

You feel like Wonwoo hesitantly opens up about his own childhood as a response; you shouldn’t pry further. 

“How do you know so much about flowers?” You inquire instead, absentmindedly holding a palm out when Wonwoo gestures to you and drops the blossom into your hand. 

Almost instantly, the defenses come up in his expression, and you understand, feeling the walls as fervently as if they were your own. The straight line of Wonwoo’s shoulders grows taut, a shadow flickers across his gaze, and he responds through his teeth, “My mother loved flowers.”

You nod once, guilty for asking, and that’s that. 

–

“There’s a whisper in the wind.” You stare back at the Yoon man, who Jihoon has appointed as his chief Whisperer. You hadn’t met him in your childhood before you left, but you’ve gathered that your brother and cousins trust Jeonghan with their lives. Nevertheless, you’re a little wary of the man whose innocent visage, you know, obscures a mischievous streak within. Even the way he got ahold of you, slipping in step right beside you as you took your late afternoon stroll amongst the barren trees unsettles you. 

Whisperers, in general, have always discomforted you. Your uncle’s chief Whisperer had been a snake of a man, with an easygoing smile and eyes that flashed like lightning. Even as a child, you had squirmed even being in the same room with the man. The moment you had landed eyes on Jeonghan upon your return, you had known that he was the spawn of the serpent in your memories. 

“What do the whispers say?” Your curiosity triumphs over your unease. 

For once, Jeonghan’s lips aren’t upturned into a smile. Instead, there’s a slight crease to his forehead, and he looks the proper part of a man burdened with the secrets of the entire kingdom. “Lord Jeon has broken a longstanding deal with the Park clan, regarding the private ownership of their clinics, and the Parks aren’t happy.” Your head twinges, unused to the politics of business-dealing. “Why did he do it?”

Jeonghan shrugs a shoulder, dipping his head closer to you. “The Parks have always coveted the Jeons’ proximity to the Triumvirate. They think that once Lord Jeon passes, they can topple his empire.” 

You frown but still don’t understand where this leads. The Whisperer’s gaze softens at your confusion before he delivers the objective. 

“The whispers tell me that they want to exterminate his sons, so that there will be no heirs to inherit the empire.” 

There’s a high-pitched ringing in your ears that deafens you from your own voice asking, “How do they know?”

You return to your senses just as you catch the tail end of Jeonghan’s response. “They recently hired a band of bloodswords. The whispers say that they’ve been bustling all night and morning, and they suspect that they’ll make their move soon.” 

You should’ve listened to Jeonghan. 

The sky had been red as blood when you woke that morning. Usually, it reads as an omen of a storm, but it had felt like something worse. Your mind had gone to Jeonghan’s words instantly, but Wonwoo is securely tucked into the palace grounds. Surely not even bloodswords are capable of slipping past the Sentinels. 

You should’ve listened to Jeonghan. 

When the incessant alarm in your head doesn’t let up, you decide to check in on the physician pavilion with Mingyu, who isn’t hard to wrangle up at all. Soonyoung, on the other hand, tosses sleepily in his bedsheets, grumbling something about having taken an overnight shift for Seungcheol. You frown, unimpressed, but leave him in his room with a mutter that if you, and Jeonghan, turn out to be right and Wonwoo really is in danger, he’ll be sorry for it. 

Wonwoo’s not in his office. The chairs have been thrown, overturned here and there. The glass top of his desk shattered to oblivion. 

Immediately, your concern rots away into dread, and it rises in the back of your throat as bile. Mingyu’s quick on his feet, already lisping through his next thoughts out loud, but you can barely hear what he says, your own mind reeling in panic and fear and despair. 

“Tigress,” Mingyu barks, fingers bruising as he grips your shoulder, “pull yourself together. We need to find Wonwoo.” 

You nod, mumble out your agreement. The Sentinel takes off, and you follow closely, barely aware of where he leads. Mingyu makes quick work of his hunt, like a hound closing in on a scent, and it feels like only a few heartbeats when he skids to a pause in the gateway to a secluded courtyard, one hidden away from most of the palatial grounds, most frequented by servants. The night swarms in, dark and smothering, and there’s barely a sliver of the moon in the sky to provide light but you see him. 

You see Wonwoo, crumpled on the floor and trying to shove himself deeper into the corner that he’s been backed into. There’s a man merely a few feet in front of him, much farther away from you, who inches closer and closer to Wonwoo, a sickly sardonic laugh rattling out of his chest. Like a hunter, triumphant as his prize awaits. 

There’s a horrid cut splitting the pale flesh of Wonwoo’s cheek, weeping blood. Staring at the man before him, he holds out the dagger that Soonyoung gave for protection in their childhood, but it’s too loose in his trembling grip. You see the Redeemer as he once was: a gentle boy, raised by a healer and a nurturer, who grew up wanting nothing but to care for others, the way he was cared for by his parents. Wonwoo couldn’t kill anyone, let alone harm them, even if he wanted to, and the thought makes your insides burn like wildfire. 

“Wonwoo.” Your voice barely comes out, but he hears you, jerking his chin up. His eyes, stretched wide with terror, land on you, and the world around you tips on its axis. They hurt him, put a mark on a man who would never wish harm on another. “No,” you whisper, fingers curling tighter against your weapon, clinging to something desperately so that you don’t lose yourself in the storm. “No. You don’t get to lay a hand on him. You shouldn’t have done that.” The words escape as a sigh from miles away. 

The bloodsword swivels his head over his shoulder before barking out another scoff. “Get lost, little girl. The grown-ups are dealing with business.” 

The man’s words fall innocuously on deaf ears. There’s half a thought forming in your head that maybe you should just disarm him, incapacitate him just enough to have him out of the way so that you can check on Wonwoo. You look back at the Redeemer, see the cut on his face, and a roaring starts up in your ears, as the thought sputters and fizzles out. 

Without a word to Mingyu, you surge forward, but you know that he’s there, hot at your heels. The man puts up no real fight; after all, bloodswords are amateur assassins. The man swivels on his feet, just in time to meet you as you reach him. You barely duck under the swing of his knife, but his movements are clumsy and unpracticed. He tries to lash out several more times, but you weave through each of his attempts. 

You should kill him quickly–there’s Wonwoo to get to–but the grating noise of his awful laugh echoes in your head. How dare he laugh at the thought of hurting Wonwoo, of killing him? Your head gets loud again, you shift to the right a little too slowly, and the man’s swipe catches you across the chin, jerking your head to the side. It doesn’t hurt, you only feel the force of it and nothing else, but it’s enough. You drop into a crouch and slash at his calves with your blade, smiling when his muscles tear and his knees buckle beneath his weight. 

A pitiful yelp of a cry spills from the man, but it’s too late for you to care. You wrench his shoulder, flip him around so that he’s crumpling onto his back, as you loom over him. He has no choice but to look at you now, standing before him with the blade steadying your hands. There’s a slow satisfaction that bubbles in the pit of your stomach, before spreading, warm in your veins, as you see the man’s face contort from anger to despair to finally fear. It delights you, knowing that he has realized his mistake. 

The man dies screaming, and you revel in the way his voice gurgles as he chokes on his own blood before it cuts out entirely. 

Other bodies thud to the floor around you as Mingyu takes care of the hoards that continue appearing, and the reprieve allows you to crouch beside Wonwoo, pressing a quivering palm to his unmarred cheek. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You demand firmly, searching his eyes and any visible part of his body for signs of injury. “You’re okay now,” you whisper fiercely, feeling your heart tear at the sight of blood slipping from his face, over his jaw, and down his pale throat, of the panic in his usually unruffled expression. “We’re here now.” 

The Redeemer shakes his head, and the dagger clatters out of his fingers as he tugs at you and you crash into his chest. “You’re safe,” he mutters, but you can barely hear his voice over the hammering of his heartbeat against your ear, the blood rushing furiously through your head. 

You want nothing more than to stay in the warmth of his embrace, but you force yourself to push away and up. “You’ll be safe with Mingyu,” you promise, for the sake of yourself, if not for Wonwoo’s. You hear him call your name, a frantic howl of a noise, but rage pulses through your veins and it calls you back, back into the throng of the violence. 

You advance, cutting through the outbreak of invaders like stalks of grass with a scythe. The anger, the fear that Wonwoo could’ve been hurt even worse blinds and deafens you. You move ceaselessly, bending and crouching and lunging and slashing. You dip to slice at the heels of one man, shoot yourself up and twist to tear the throat of another. A constant rhythm that never lets up, just like the Kwons taught you to, because a motionless warrior is a corpse. This is what dancing must feel like. 

Just a bit up ahead, there’s another figure whirling and carving down the rest of the men with his twin blades. You take the moment to catch your breath, reel in the emotions that have gotten too unruly, fraying the edges of your minds and taking control of your body. In the middle of counting to a hundred, eyes squeezed shut, a gentle weight lands atop your head, grounding you. You don’t need to see to know that it’s Soonyoung, heat and the stench of iron nearly vibrating off of his body. 

“Wonwoo?” The First Blade prompts quietly, and you can still hear malice in his voice because no matter how much more control he has over himself, you and Soonyoung are cut from the same bloody cloth. While your rage consumes your entire body in a deafening inferno, his fury makes his world go silent, like he’s swimming in frigid, subzero waters. 

“We got to him just in time. I left him with Mingyu.” The words coming out of your throat sound like they’re coming from another person. They’re quiet, but the rest of your body is still so loud. Buzzing with the need to kill, kill, kill. 

A muted sigh escapes Soonyoung. He drops his hand from your head to your face, fingers brushing at a spot on your jaw that smarts at his touch. “Tigress. He’s safe. That’s all that matters for now,” the man mumbles gently. “Go see him. We’ll kill the rest of the Park bastards another day.”

His promise is not enough. Your body yearns for more bloodshed, here and now, but you force yourself to nod and let yourself be tugged away from this battlefield to the next. 

–

The physician pavilion has been wrecked, so there’s only one place that Mingyu could have taken Wonwoo. 

The speakeasy-turned-clinic welcomes you like a second home as you step into its dim warmth, followed closely by Soonyoung. Only once you pass the threshold into the main holding room and see for yourself that Mingyu and Wonwoo are truly alive and well, you let yourself go lax, shoulders sagging as the weight of the world releases you. 

Wonwoo sits on a barstool as the Sentinel hovers before him, stitching up his cheek with deft fingers. You’re so relieved that your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. There’s a moment when Wonwoo realizes your arrival and glances up, expression raw and melting with relief. You struggle to say something, anything, but your head swarms with loud thoughts of mine, mine, mine. It’s a bizarre feeling, wanting him so viscerally, when all your life, you’ve denied yourself. Distantly, you feel the stick of blood on your palms at the carnage you’ve just rendered, and guilt festers, reminding you of how undeserving you are of him. 

“Tigress.” The sound of Soonyoung’s nickname for you sounds foreign and clumsy on Wonwoo’s tongue, and it startles you into stumbling a few steps forward. 

You shake your head, no, as your feet crash into the stool Wonwoo sits on. Somewhere in your mind, you recognize that Mingyu’s arms come up around your shoulders to right your body as it careens forward, but all you can think is my name, my name, my name until the Redeemer calls you by your name and the infernal world around you finally hushes and settles. 

He got hurt because of you, because you didn’t get there on time, because you didn’t take Jeonghan’s whispers seriously at first. All because of your own shortcomings as a Blade. The thought unravels you. 

“I’m sorry.” The words spill faster than the tears do. “I’m sorry.” 

Wonwoo’s nose crinkles with concern. “What are you sorry for, princess? You saved my life.” 

You want to reach up, you want to hold him, but there’s so much blood on your hands. You’d only be tainting him. Like how you ruin everything else. 

You get knocked into the darkness, it rushes in and sucks you under like a tidal wave, and you don’t know how to swim out. 

“–ey. Hey.”

Another call of your given name. Still foreign after all this time. It rattles your entire being, and the words, barely formed and uncouth, fight their way off of your tongue clumsily. 

“I let you get hurt,” you despair, fingers clenching and unfurling around empty air. “I’m not enough. I’ll never be enough to protect you. I need to be perfect–” 

“Stop.” 

You flinch at the anger brimming in Wonwoo’s voice. It’s foreign in your ears, and you’re not sure that you like it very much. Unlike yours and Soonyoung’s, the Redeemer’s rage feels not like a weapon but more like a manacle. Your throat burns with the desire to free him from it, so you clamp your jaws shut obediently, swallowing down the rest of the venom. 

Wonwoo stands, knocking the stool backwards. The noise as it topples over and clatters through the floor returns you to the present, just enough for you to glance up and around the room, discovering that both Mingyu and Soonyoung’s presence have disappeared. You’re both relieved and anxious for it, unsure of what demons the privacy might lead you to bare next. The thought barely skims through your mind, before there’s a heat pressing into you. Confused, you look back forward, and it’s all Wonwoo. Wonwoo, clasping a hand to your cheek, the other settling heavy on your hip. Wonwoo, searing an inspection along the perimeter of your face, where you’re barely aware of a cut steadily weeping blood. Wonwoo, mumbling quietly, breath soft and warm and sweet against your mouth. 

“You’re hurt,” he says simply.

It’s everything and nothing all at once. It’s so trivial that you want to brush him off. It’s so profound that you want to wholly consume the moment, greedily swallowing it away for yourself. As you dither, Wonwoo makes the decision for you. 

He only tips his head back, lips brushing faintly against yours like a question, like a promise. 

Once offered, you have no mind to do anything but take, take, take, and you’re pressing forward desperately, wanting nothing but Wonwoo’s touch to be burnt into your skin like a brand. In response, a quiet whine escapes his throat, pitched high with delight. He reciprocates with a relentless fervor, mouth melded to yours, breathing fire down your throat. 

You swallow it eagerly. When your chest feels close to tearing apart from lack of air, you resentfully pull back for a moment to suck in a breath. In the lapse, the Redeemer smiles down at you, a gentle thumb sweeping over your face. 

“I don’t need a perfect you,” he professes, soft and earnest. “I have never expected perfection.” As you grasp for shallow breaths, you puzzle over his words, as his polite smile widens into blatant amusement. “You don’t remember, do you? I’ve seen you before, when we were children. Multiple times, in fact.” 

You frown. There’s nothing of Wonwoo in your faint recollections of your childhood, aside from the blurred images of his father. Try as you might, not a single picture of what he might have even looked like in boyhood exists in your head. After all, if he had been in your life back then, maybe your childhood wouldn’t have been as miserable as it was. 

As if he notices your dejection, the Redeemer soothes you with a chaste kiss against the forehead. “No matter,” he whispers delicately. “It was always from afar anyway, whenever my father had me tag along to the palace with him. I was too quiet and shy to say anything to you.” 

Despite yourself, you quip, “Even quieter than now?”

Wonwoo grins, “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” He continues a bit more seriously, brows drawn together, “You were younger than me, and the princess, but you always looked so unhappy. It was strange.” Shaking his head slightly, he corrects, “It was concerning.” 

“I was unhappy,” you concede, but you don’t want to think about it, at least not right now. There will come a time when you bare your whole heart to Wonwoo, you decide then and there. He will witness the deepest and ugliest parts of your soul, and you will leave it up to his judgment if he deems you worthy of saving, of his redemption. Until then, you think that you’ll have to make do with being less than perfect for him. To have him and to give yourself to him as you are. 

Wonwoo meets your gaze, knowingly, as if he understands your resolution and acknowledges it for himself as well. You smile, grow lax at the weight taken off of your chest finally, and lean in to kiss him again. Straining up to reach his height isn’t enough, despite the sharp angle that he crooks his neck at, so you urge him backwards, still clutched within his embrace, until the backs of his knees meet the edge of an armchair and you’re falling forward into him, into the seat. 

He huffs out a breath, as his fingers trail along your ribcage, hot, like flames licking along your skin. You hold yours, afraid that if you move or make a sound, the spell will break and the moment will shatter. It’s not enough, the slow, intentional sweep of his hands that hold you like fragile glass. 

“My mother grew flowers,” he pants into your mouth, words nearly going unnoticed by the haze in your head. “Kept flowers that grew in every season, every color of the rainbow. Raised her boys as she would her flowers, she would say.” Wonwoo’s murmurs rattle you to the core, and you wish that he had told you this when you were in a state to receive it more appreciatively. 

You press a palm against his chest firmly, wincing as you deny it when he dips his head back low to get closer. Working hard to reel in your ragged breaths, you hook a finger beneath his chin, lifting his face to examine it. His pupils grow wide, darkening his gaze, and you watch it happen curiously. 

Wonwoo rasps out a laugh, which sends your stomach tumbling, but you’re too far gone to care. You recognize it for what it is. He continues speaking in that quiet rumble of his, and all of your senses amplify, seeking out his voice and hanging on every word. 

“I was scared that I would grow weak,” he admits like he’s telling a secret, “Flowers are pretty, but delicate. I envied Soonyoung and Mingyu, who were raised as warriors.” Wonwoo smiles and brushes his knuckles against the bruise blooming across your jaw. “Of you, even. A princess who was brave enough to become a Blade.” 

You smile back, remorse bitter in the back of your mouth. “It’s not a proud thing, to be a weapon.” 

“It’s a beautiful thing, to be a protector.” He argues fiercely, and his gaze burns so intensely that you think you might believe him. 

–

Every passing day, every passing moment that you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Wonwoo, you think of your mother. You don’t glance at him because he prompts you to, you don’t pore over every shift of his expressions to gauge his emotions, you simply look for looking’s sake. The mere sight of him brings a calm that you never thought you would know in life. 

Your attention is wholly yours to have and to give as desired. Without even thinking to, you give your attention to Wonwoo, even when he doesn’t demand it, because your head and your heart are magnetized to him. You realize, slowly, begrudgingly at first, then rapidly all at once, that this is what love must be. 

You’ve always known that your parents never loved you. As a child, you had writhed and twisted and bent over backwards to get them to glance your way even for the slightest of seconds and see that you were smiling as angelically as you could to gain favor. You understand now that there would have been nothing that you could’ve done to receive their attention because there was no love in their heart for you. You know it but don’t think that you’ll ever comprehend it. Not when your concentration slips away from you so effortlessly, like sand through a sieve, and your thoughts scatter away from your mother to the Redeemer, merely a few feet across of you atop a barstool, head crooked into his book, fingers playing at the edges of the next page. 

Love. The word tingles on the tip of your tongue and your mouth waters at the taste of it. 

“You’re staring.” Wonwoo doesn’t move as he speaks, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined his velvet soft voice. 

Cheeks flaring hot at getting caught, you stubbornly turn your head away, looking at anything but him. 

You think that Wonwoo might love you, too. 

For when you can’t last longer than a few seconds staring at the wall and your gaze draws back to him inevitably, like a moth to a flame, his mirthful eyes are already on you, ready to receive your attention. 

[ssentimentals]

Hi Nini! Thank you for doing prompts again! I loved reading them and enjoyed getting notifications when you did the last one. 🩵

Can I please request Prompt 40: Arranged Marriage with Wonwoo x Reader. He absolutely hates the idea of marrying reader, his cold standoffish and doesn’t want to get to know her at all as he thinks she’s like all the other Chaebol daughters his encountered. (Snobby, high maintenance, just wants fame, etc..) but a situation happens and he finds out she’s the total opposite of what he thought she was.

Thank you!!!

hi lovely! ah, this is so nice, thank you so much 💜 of course you can request, thank you for doing so, hopefully you'll like it!

prompt: arranged marriage

wonwoo has no hope, sadly. future with arranged marriage never looked bright for him and the fact that he's supposed to meet his future bride in an hour makes him annoyed at best and angry at worst. he doesn't want to act all high and mighty, but he lived his whole life in the chaebol society and he knows exactly what kind of person his future wife is. she probably has a very nice smile but it's fake and there's nothing behind it. she probably is intelligent, snobby and has perfect manners. she probably spends money like there's no tomorrow and knows everything about new fashion trends and nothing about any economical/societal matter. she probably is ignorant and shallow - she probably is nothing wonwoo can possibly fall in love with. and yes, looking for love in an arranged marriage is a naive thing, but is it so bad to wish to at least not hate the person you're going to tie your life with?

there's a small playground not far from the designated place of meeting and wonwoo goes there. it's around noon on sunday, sun is shining bright and plenty of kids are there, but he finds himself a quiet corner on the nearby bench. annoyance swims in his mind and he tries to calm down, watching kids; their carefree spirits never failed to put him in a better mood. he tries not to think of his future bride, tries not to picture how miserable his life is about to get and instead focuses on looking around. some boys are building sand castles, others are playing tag and then he notices one little girl standing at the top of the slide. even from this distance wonwoo can see how tight she's holding the railings, can feel how nervous she is. before he knows it he's up on his feet with an aim to help little out but someone is quicker than him. wonwoo pauses, watches as girl who's probably around his age walks over. he comes closer and listens to the gentle conversation, smiling at sincere kindness display in front of him.

'it's alright, sweetheart, i'm going to be right here. i will catch you, you don't have to worry about it,' the girl says in a warm tone.

'i will help her catch you,' wonwoo steps closer, smiling to the little girl who still looks hesitant. 'so don't be scared.'

'or you can always turn back,' you offer after few seconds, when the girl doesn't reply. 'it's okay if you don't want to-'

'i want to,' little girl interrupts, puffing her cheeks in the cutest way.

wonwoo chuckles and turns to you right when you also turn to him. beautiful eyes, he thinks. beautiful smile. you take few steps back, standing now right at the end of the slide. wordlessly you reach out to wonwoo, who readily takes your offered hand and also moves to the end of the slide. you smile at wonwoo and then turn back to the girl: 'look, we are both here. we will catch you, darling. we will never let you fall.'

beautiful soul. in the end, you both cheer when you get an armful of a happy squealing girl. she does it again and again and all the times you both catch her, laughing along. it's the happiest wonwoo felt in months and when girl's mother comes to get her daughter, he's almost disappointed. time flew quickly too, he's got only ten minutes to not be late for the meeting and- he doesn't want to go. he also doesn't want to lose you just like that- 'um, sorry, wait,' he calls, when you turn to go. 'i just- i was wondering if we could maybe-'

'i'm so sorry but i can't,' you reply hurriedly, looking sad.

oh. of course someone like you is already taken, what was he thinking? wonwoo nods and wishes you well... only to walk in the same direction as you. when you enter the same building, he realizes that it looks like he's some freaking stalker. 'i promise i also need to be here,' he mutters, when you both enter the same elevator. 'i'm not, like, stalking you.'

you let out a nervous laugh. 'uh-huh. i hope so.'

god, you two are even going to the same floor. it's a rather popular business center so wonwoo doesn't think much off it but when you both turn in the same direction, he slowly realizes that-

'oh my god,' you pauses, looking at him with wide eyes. 'you're- you are jeon wonwoo. the one i'm-'

'supposed to marry? yeah.' wonwoo finishes, knowing that he is smiling like a fool. 'that's me.'

it's crazy. feels like a dream or something straight out of the movies. you both laugh in disblief and when wonwoo opens the door and holds it for you, when you both enter the room with your lawyers already present, when you smile at him timidly and blush, looking away- wonwoo realizes that this is not a dream. it's all real. and maybe future with arranged marriage can be bright if it will have you in it.

a/n: this trope truly is my kryptonite.. hopefully you liked it! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

[fy-wonwoo]

250227 wonwoo weverse update:

I’ve arrived back safely.

I had such a great time.

I’ll come to do a gam3 bo1 soon!!😊

[clownprincehoeshi]

Twisted Deception Materlist

Synopsis: Betrayal and manipulation were always a constant in your life. Leading your family’s legacy as a mafia boss is not an easy task and most of the times can lead to losing the ones you love most. You’ve always kept away from love, but even is this dark and unforgiving world it finds you. But it also breaks you.

Pairing: mafia boss Mingyu x mafia boss reader

doctor Seungcheol x mafia boss reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: mafia scenarios, death, gun mentions, blood, cheating, sex scenes, nudity… will post others along the way if needed

Status: ongoing

Started: july 23th 2024

Information: So I wanted to do something different for this fic. I’ve decided to use a name instead of Y/N(RUA). For me, it gves more depth and dimension to the character and it helps with the wrting/reading process. It’s a random name that I thought about randomly and it also starts with the letter of my own name. I don’t know, I find it pretty, short and simple. I will start writing on the first chapter after I finish with Parallel Hearts story(about two more chapters to go). Not sure how many chapters this one will have, maybe 2 or 3. Sugestions and comments are welcomed.

Don’t forget to support the writers by rebloging their works! Thank you!

Masterlist:

Teaser

The Characters

Chapter 1

more to come...

[babygirldokyeom]

Ngl dokyeom has ruined men for me like why can’t all men look and act like Dokyeom 😔😔

[jakedustry]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

You can’t put out fire with fire. But you can combine them, and watch the place burn down in front of your eyes. The demon king realized that when he watched his son dethrone him. He should have never sent him on the mission in the first place. If he hadn’t, he could have kept his son’s fire under control. 

IN WHICH Wonwoo spends most of his time in his room, watching the world around from the comfort of his window. He likes it that way. It wasn’t like the outer world would be something he’d like to see any other way anyway. However, when his dad—the demon king—decides it’s time for him to go out, he can’t say anything in protest. 

As Wonwoo wanders through the mountains to reach the Angel’s territory, the little flame you leave behind yourself catches his attention, and you know you found someone interesting when even the flame you fire into his face doesn’t make him turn around and get to where he came from. 

── .✦

genre– Fluff, Smut

warnings/contains– fire fairy!reader, demon prince!wonwoo, side character death, Wonwoo has horns, tail and wings, some sexual jokes, Wonwoo is compared to a horny teen, drinking, mythical creatures, demons and angels rivalry, love at first sight, forced proximity, lots of plot (especially regarding the demons), arranged marriage (unsuccessful), dom!reader mostly, sub!wonwoo mostly, handjob, unprotected sex, kinda horn play/sensitivity play, they do it once with their friends sleeping on the other side of the cave they are in, oral (f!receiving), face sitting I might have forgotten some

word count– 29.2k

playlist

↪ izzy adds... okay this was so fun. I really enjoyed the world building and playing around the powers and backstory of the demons. I'm so happy to be a part of this collab with my friends and so so so thankful to them. I also want to say a special thank you to @beomiracles because she was the one who organized most of it and helped us all unite. You did so well with it serene <33 This story is barely proofread, so sorry for any mistakes you might come across

Does the world burn because of people, or is it people who burn because of the world they live in? 

Wonwoo thinks about this question daily as he stares out of his window, watching the demons outside scorch the ground beneath their feet. But he knows they aren’t the only ones causing all the mess—the world above, teeming with other creatures, is far worse.

He couldn’t say he has met many of them—he wasn’t even sure if he could say he met any of them (he refused to count the brief eye contact exchange he made with one of the vampires years ago when he was a child)—but those are the things he’s been taught. “We aren’t bad like everyone portrays us,” he recalls his nanny saying, the pause in her words still etched in his memory. “Some of us, at least.” 

A sharp knock on the door pulls Wonwoo from his thoughts. He turns away from the children outside, who are tossing little flames at each other. “Come in!” He calls, and it takes barely a second before the door opens and he meets eyes with the same lady that raised him. “Misoon,” he smiles, standing up. She exchanges a smile with him, hesitantly closing the door behind herself. 

Misoon has served the demon king for as long as Wonwoo can remember. Her face is lined with wrinkles, yet he has never thought of her as old. She is wise, having lived more lifetimes than he could imagine. She has always been there—teaching him how to read, speak, and harness the basics of his powers—everything his parents never cared to be part of. A part of him hates that he sees her as a mother figure, especially since his own mother is long gone, but he has learned to accept it. So, he’s learnt to read her, and he knew that frown on her face—full of worry, wouldn’t bring anything good. 

“Your father will summon you in a few minutes, Sir,” she informs him, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t call me that,” he frowns at the sudden address. “You’ve changed my diapers before, I think it’s only fair to call me by my name.” 

“I already promised to drop the Royal Highness, but I can’t afford speaking so casually to you, Prince.” 

It’s like a reminder to him that she isn’t actually his close family member, but one of his father’s workers, who only happens to care for him. Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Alright then. So, what was it about my father calling for me?” He asks, and the hesitation he catches in Misoon’s eyes makes him worried. “I’m not exactly sure what happened—but I overheard a conversation His Majesty had with one of the knights. They want you to go out with them.” 

“Out?” There is a mixture of feelings in Wonwoo’s eyes as he glances out of his window again. “To do what exactly? From what I know, there isn’t anything happening in the kingdom that would need the knights involved.” 

“Outside the kingdom, Prince. We are talking about the real Aethera.” Suddenly, her worries made sense. The world above was a mystery to him, and he isn’t sure it’s one he wants to unravel. The demon king never mentioned anything about wanting him to help out, prove himself, or even take any responsibilities on, so it was more than confusing to him. It always seemed like he didn’t care, like he’d be happier not having a son rather than having to deal with Wonwoo, so why start caring now? 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” she nods, and he notices her small horns have shrunk. He bites the inside of his cheek, nodding in return.

“Then I guess I’ll have to see it out.” 

“No, Prince, I actually think you shouldn’t–” 

A loud knock on the door echoes through the room. 

“Come in!” Wonwoo yells, turning his attention to the door. The sigh Misoon lets out goes by unnoticed. 

Just as she said, minutes later, Wonwoo is kneeling in the grand hall before his father, listening to him speak. 

“There is time for everyone,” the king starts, clearing his throat. Wonwoo’s eyes flicker up to him for a brief second before he glances back down, almost staring a hole into the floor beneath him. Thanks to Misoon he knew what the conversation was going to be about, but he hadn’t expected a lesson with it as well. “You’re 27 now. It’s way past yours.” Wonwoo stiffens at the veiled insult but holds his tongue. “So, as a way to get back on track and prove yourself worth it—this throne for example—I want you to co-lead a mission.” 

Prove his worth? Did he need to do that? Did he have to take over the kingdom at some point and rule the demons like his father has? He knew it had to come once, but a part of him always thought that the later, the better. He loved the freedom he had now—the ability to exist without the weight of others’ expectations.

A part of him wanted to turn around and run away when he listened to the real reason why he was going but he knew he couldn’t. “You’ll become a true man after that and will be able to find a wife for yourself. It was about time, after all.” 

“Of course,” Wonwoo mumbles through gritted teeth, realizing that maybe Misoon’s worries weren’t so out of place. “Perfect,” his father’s voice comes out strong, and before Wonwoo can look up, there are already two knights on each of his sides, waiting for him to get up so they could escort him out. 

The sudden change is something Wonwoo wasn’t fond of. 

Just last week, his days looked simple. Eat, study, eat, stay in his room, eat, sleep. But now, for some reason, everyone needed to keep an eye on him. He could barely find a free minute to run off to his room and relax before another one of the knights or teachers showed up, insisting on having to teach him something. 

Now, his day looked something more like this; Workout, fight, study, eat, fight, workout, fight, snack, sleep. 

“You’re holding it wrong,” the knight grumbles, walking over to fix Wonwoo’s grip. “Your Highness, it’s important that you learn as much as you can before we leave. When we reach the mountains, it’ll be too late. We can’t keep an eye on the angels and you on top of that.” 

It felt humbling to say the least. Wonwoo was an adult, he should have learnt how to hold a sword a long time ago, not to mention his power control. 

“Noted,” it comes out more raspy than he’d want to, catching the older male off guard. He doesn’t say anything, though, and a part of Wonwoo feels relieved. 

Later that day, when Wonwoo sits alone in the large dining room and his eyes land on the clock that marks already 3pm, he is surprised to see another person walk in, a portion of the same lunch he has in his hands. He feels even more conflicted when the blond boy sits down opposite him. Didn’t he find himself impolite for not bothering with saying at least a greeting to his prince before invading his space? 

Wonwoo clears his throat, loud enough to catch the boy’s attention. Their eyes meet, but all he gets is a smile in return before the blond continues eating. The prince wasn’t sure what was going on through the boy’s head, but he wasn’t one to mention anything, so he simply returned to his lunch. 

It wasn’t for another 3 days before he saw him again. His blond locks cover his eyes, and he looks kind of funny looking up at the other men in armor, but Wonwoo can’t doubt his skills, not after he saw him fight. 

“Oh! It’s you again!” His eyes land on Wonwoo, causing the taller male to widen his eyes. “From the dining room? We had a late lunch together!” He sounds offended when Wonwoo doesn’t automatically act like they’ve been friends for years. He opens his mouth to answer but before he can do so, one of the knights nudges the blond’s shoulder, informing him this isn’t how he should speak to his prince. 

And he’s right. Had Wonwoo been anything like his father, the young boy wouldn’t have a tongue by now. 

“Don’t mind him, Your Highness. Chan just wants to get along with everyone.” Wonwoo turns his head to the side upon hearing the voice, slightly nodding when he notices another knight. If his memory recalls correctly he introduced himself as Seokmin before. “He means no harm, though.” 

There is a sigh that leaves his lips when he notices the blond in a headlock, laughing with another two boys he can’t remember the names of at the moment. Seokmin looks confused upon that for a second until he looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, a smile appearing on his lips as he realizes the exhale is nothing but wishful. 

Spending weeks with a group of men who either think with their dicks or swords was something Wonwoo never imagined doing. Yet, he noticed some of their traits growing onto him as well. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. 

A lot of people told him he’s gotten more talkative and louder in the past few days, and it always sounded like a compliment, but the feeling of turning into a person he didn’t even know always made his smile fade away. He’d much rather have people avoiding him because they find him weird than them praising him for being someone he isn’t. 

“Hey, prince!” Chan’s laugh fills Wonwoo’s ears, making him turn around. “Are you coming with us? We want to grab some drinks since it’s the last day before the mission,” he informs him, and Wonwoo thinks about it for a bit. Seokmin told him about it earlier, and he said he won’t go but now that he saw how excited Chan was for it, he didn’t want to miss it. 

“Alright.” 

There’s a quiet “Yes!” that leaves Chan’s lips and it makes Wonwoo chuckle. 

“You can go first. I still need to take care of some things but I’ll come,” he assured him, watching him walk away before he turned on his heel, walking through the castle to get to the library for his last lesson with the king’s advisor. 

He had mixed feelings about the situation, honestly. He was glad he wouldn’t need to have his head buried in the pile of books while listening to older men talk his ears off about topics he had no interest in anymore but a part of him knew he’ll miss it in the future nonetheless. Once he’d come back with the knights, his whole world will be changed and he’ll probably want to come back to the somehow-easy times where all he had to care about was making sure he wouldn’t fall asleep while listening to these lessons. 

So, for the first and last time, he walked to his lesson with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, ready for anything else he still had to learn. 

It’s safe to say Chan is drunk when Wonwoo finally arrives into the pub right outside the castle and joins the table full of knights. He tries his best to ignore the pairs of eyes on him and orders a beer for himself immediately, which follows a loud chant from the others. 

“I thought you weren’t going to join us, Your Highness,” Seokmin comments with a teasing smirk on his face. Wonwoo rolls his eyes at that but a smile creeps up his face. “Wonwoo is fine,” he proclaims, and it catches the younger man off guard. “I don’t think I can–” 

“It’s fine. I promise,” Wonwoo assures him before he can finish, looking around the table. “You are the only one who still calls me by my title. Everyone else dropped it a long time ago, so you should too.” He smiles, nodding. “Okay, then, Wonwoo.” 

A round of drinks goes by only to be met with a new one, and soon enough, the group supposed to protect all of the demons and their empire is drunk in a local pub, singing loudly and yelling over each other. It’s a funny sight for sure. 

“You!” Chan points at the prince, making him blink confusedly. “How come you don’t have a wife yet?” Another one of the knights—Jisung—joins in and everyone’s eyes land on the tall male. “Uhm,” he starts, trying to think of any valid reason. “We keep waiting for you to find someone so you can take over the throne but it feels like you don’t take any initiative to do so!” 

“I haven’t found the right person,” Wonwoo lies. He’s never cared about finding a wife for himself, nor taking over the throne for the matter. Deep down he knew it was something he should think about every second of his day, he took lectures on how to rule a kingdom for reasons after all, but for now, it seemed like something so far beyond his capabilities he’d rather not bother himself with it. 

“I call bullshit,” Seokmin says, nudging the prince’s shoulder. “Surely you hadn’t been single this whole time. That’d just be a disgrace to your little royal–” The owner interrupts him before he can finish his sentence, placing another round of drinks on their table. Wonwoo feels relieved. He’d rather not discuss his (barely existent) sexual journey with them. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo laughs it off, finding an escape route. “We still need some sleep before tomorrow. Last round.” There are a few complaints from the others at first, but in the end Wonwoo is the one with the last word, calling it a night when everyone finishes their drink. 

There is a weird feeling that creeps up Wonwoo’s shoulders as he walks through the castle hallways to reach his room, but he tries to pay it little to no attention. Surely it’s all the alcohol he had tonight and nothing else. That’s what he thinks until he senses the presence of another human being. But before he can do anything about it, figure out who it is or why they’ve been following him, two arms wrap around him, dragging him aside into one of the rooms. 

“For fucks sake, you scared the shit out of me, Misoon!” Wonwoo yells when he finally sets his eyes on the person, and she immediately covers his mouth to quiet him down. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, but she is willing to do that if it means getting him to shut up. His words are muffled against her palm but she makes out the words to be something like “What’s going on?” 

She sighs, letting her hand fall back to her side. Wonwoo notices the worry in her eyes first and then the few new wrinkles on her face. He wouldn’t dare to point it out, but she didn’t look the best. 

“Why are we here?” He asks when she doesn’t answer his first question, looking around. It is her room, he realizes. It’s been so long since he’s last been here that he almost didn’t recognize it. “So I know we are alone,” she proclaims, walking past him to sit in her chair. His eyes follow her, but his feet stay glued to the floor, not moving an inch. 

“There have been…weird things happening,” she explains when she sees the confused look on Wonwoo’s face. “Your father is full of secrets, Prince, and I’m not only scared for myself, but mainly for you.” Now he laughs. “Scared? For me?” However, the expression on her face shows she doesn’t find it as funny as he does. He swallows hard, trying to read her and somehow make sense of what is happening. He shakes his head before he takes a seat on her bed. It’s small, the whole room is, and it makes him feel bad. After everything she’s done for his family this is how the king repays her? 

“There are things you don’t know about. Stuff His Majesty decided to bury so deep only he knows about them.” 

“Look, Misoon, I know my father has his issues but no one is perfect. We’ve actually…gotten closer since he decided to put me on this mission. I don’t want to ruin that based on nothing.” 

She closes her mouth again when he says that, trying to think of something, anything, that could convince him. It seemed impossible though when she had no evidence she could hold onto. “Just promise me you’ll be careful? I’m not sure why he decided to send you on this mission, but I know it can’t be anything good.” 

Wonwoo smiles but doesn’t say anything else. He stands up again, walking over to the door. With one last look at her, the words “Good night” leave his lips before he exists, falling asleep as soon as his back hits the comfort of his bed. 

Drinking the night before was a bad idea. They all realized it as they walked through the Darkwood forest, the birds chipping around them making their heads dizzy. How were they supposed to fight anyone like this? 

“Alright, let’s settle down for some time,” Seokmin commands, turning around to face the knights. “I hate saying this but we are not ready right now,” he sighs and without any complaints, the group of men gets comfortable in the middle of the forest. Thankfully, this wasn’t a battle they could win in a single day anyway. Only the walk to the mountains would take almost the whole day, not to mention the stairway to heaven. Climbing up was going to take some time. No one would mind the few extra hours they had to spend outside. 

“My head hurts,” Chan complains, resting his back against one of the trees. “Because you drank twice as much as everyone else,” Jisung comments, slightly kicking Chan’s leg as he walks past him. Wonwoo laughs as the blond raises his hand as if to fight but Jisung isn’t paying him any attention by then. “Here, have this,” he offers him his water bottle. “The sooner you sober up, the sooner we can go.” 

“You and your stupid royal blood,” Chan mumbles, taking the bottle from him. “Why are you not drunk? Is it some super ability you royals have? Not feeling the alcohol in your blood the next day?” The prince laughs at his questions again, shaking his head as he takes a seat beside him. “I’m just lucky I guess.” 

“I don’t get why we can’t just fly over there, it would be way quicker.” The complaint catches Wonwoo’s attention, making him look up to see Seokmin talking with one of the younger knights. “Is that a real question?” Seokmin raises an eyebrow confusedly, giving him another chance to prove he isn’t stupid. “Yes, it is.” 

“Oh god,” Chan sighs. “Do you think he’ll slap him?” Now it’s Wonwoo who is confused. “Why would he do that?” Chan shrugs. “Min slaps me when I have stupid questions. But the more I think about it, the more I’m realizing it might just be because he doesn’t like me,” he mumbles the last part, hoping he is wrong once again. “That’s not it,” Wonwoo assures him. “I actually think it’s because he does like you. He cares, otherwise he wouldn’t get so worked up. Look,” he points at the two guys, watching as Seokmin only gives a brief answer before walking away from him, deciding he isn’t going to deal with him. 

“Did he not listen at all when we planned this whole thing?” Seokmin asks, frustrated as he joins the two guys next to the tree. “You probably tired him so much he slept through it,” Chan jokes, ignoring the dead stare Min sends his way. “Even if he did sleep through it all, isn’t it basic knowledge? If we were to fly up to them, they’d notice us and we’d lose our only advantage.” 

“No need to explain that to us, you made sure we wouldn’t sleep when everything was explained,” Wonwoo laughs, again. It’s weird how many times he’s done that around them. After he reached his teenage years and was forced to learn about the world and all the rules of the demon kingdom, there wasn’t really much to laugh about. It was a nice change. And he appreciated his new friends for it. 

Seokmin rolls his eyes, taking out an old wrist watch from his pocket to see the time. “We should get going again soon. Find water and then get out of here so we are out of the forest before night comes.” Wonwoo nods, standing up and clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, enough lazing around! We need to find a water source and then we’ll get back on track. Now!” He insists when no one moves at first and everyone listens. It’s not like they’d have a different choice when their prince tells them to do something. 

Chan whines, Wonwoo’s words ringing in his head. He was never going to drink again. 

Except for when they get back victorious. 

“Why did I sign up for this again?” Seokmin sighs when he gets back to others. It took forever to find the water source and the sun was already setting down when they all met again. Their plan couldn’t be more off. At least he knew all his knights were sobered up now. 

“Because you love action?” Wonwoo suggests. “And you’re way too loyal to the kingdom.” He can’t disagree, so he simply hums, ordering everyone to start moving. They only get to take a few steps before Wonwoo stops, holding onto Seokmin’s arm to make him halt too. There’s a questioning look on his face, but he doesn’t explain anything, simply looking around the forest, trying to find something. 

“Someone’s out there,” he finally says and within seconds, Seokmin has his sword out. “What’s going on?” The whispers coming from their men don’t make it any easier for them to locate the sounds but that doesn’t stop them. 

“Whose territory is this, Jisung?” Seokmin asks, getting a response immediately. “Werewolves mostly, sir.” The prince and him share a look before looking back at their men. “We don’t want to mess up our relationship with them, everyone understands?!” When they all agree, he continues. “Our time is ticking, so let’s get out of here as fast as we can! No one, and I repeat, no one, will do anything to piss them off! Let’s avoid them,” he glances at the taller man next to him again and Wonwoo nods. “That’s right! Let’s go!” He joins, encouraging them to get going again. 

When they get out of the Darkwood forest, it’s the middle of the night. 

Wonwoo isn’t sure if he’s ever experienced a sunrise before. Down, back at the kingdom, there wasn’t a place he could watch them from, so he only heard about them from stories. He’s never got the hype about them. However, as he walked beside his friends now, watching the clear sky gain colors and the sun come up, he understood it all. It was truly beautiful. He regretted not being outside sooner. Who knew what else he was missing out on. 

“Okay, guys, we trained for this,” Seokmin turns to all of the guys, his feet covered in snow as he stands on the bottom of the stairway to heaven. The stairs are visibly old, and Wonwoo wonders how long it’s been since anyone stepped on them when he sees the dust and rats running around. “Whoever is up there waiting for us—if there is anyone, they won’t see it coming.” 

It goes as planned, every step of their way is peaceful, almost too perfect. Wonwoo follows last, guarding the men from behind while Seokmin and Chan lead the way. He knew the stairs weren’t used by angels but still, something was fishy about how easily it all seemed. 

It’s only when they reach the top that Wonwoo finally senses the presence of another creature. “Wait, guys,” he tries to warn them, stop everyone and tell them to prepare their swords, but instead, he watches a light flash in front of his eyes, slicing through the air. It takes less than a second, just one move and before anyone can react, a light sword cuts through a demon’s flesh. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and his whole body freezes. Hadn’t it been for Seokmin, yelling at everyone to focus while he fires towards the light, who knows how it’d all end up. Who knows if Wonwoo would be able to react at all. 

Thankfully, he manages to shake himself off, ignoring Jisung’s body falling to the ground and lighting up a fire with his hand, trying to calculate the speed in which the light—likely an angel—moves in order to fire at the perfect time. He watches the men in the front take out their swords, looking around themselves, waiting for it to strike again while the guys in the back create a fire in their hands just like Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo’s eyes quickly follow all the movements around him, making sure not to hit anyone else as he shoots right in front of Seokmin’s face. Gasps are heard from the guys around but it doesn’t change the fact he hits the right spot, causing the light to turn back into an angel. A wave of relief washes over Wonwoo when the angel falls to the ground but to his luck, the battle has only started. And the war they started by this attack is near. 

Soon enough, before the demons get to collect themselves or mourn their lost knight, there is another light flashing in front of their eyes. 

“I believe we haven’t met yet.” The soft voice catches Wonwoo’s attention. There are three men standing in front of his men and who knows how many are hiding in the back, waiting for the best time to attack. “No, we certainly haven’t,” Wonwoo settles for the safe choice—talk. Whatever gives him time to think of a way out of this mess. “Yoon Jeonghan,” the angel in the front introduces himself, politely reaching his hand towards the demons. Wonwoo doesn’t shake his hand though, and neither does Seokmin. 

“Jeon Wonwoo,” the prince decides to introduce himself, creating a smile on Jeonghan’s face. “Your Highness,” he bows slightly but it’s obviously a sign of mockery. “What brings you here today?” — “I hope…” a chuckle leaves his lips, as if he was finding amusement in the whole situation. “You didn’t come here to fight us, did you?” 

Wonwoo hesitates, briefly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. “No,” he answers through gritted teeth. “But you attacked one of ours.” Jeonghan’s eyes wander to the lifeless body under him. “I believe we are even,” he shrugs and Wonwoo notices how he didn’t pay the tiniest of attention to the fallen angel yet. “Even though…” he starts again with a smirk on his face. “I don’t like being even.” 

Before Wonwoo can figure out what those words mean, another light flashes in front of him and the next thing he hears is a gasp from one of his men. He quickly realizes fighting someone who moves at the speed of light is nearly impossible. Bodies fall to the ground right beside him and it feels like he is unable to move again. Unable to help, save his friends. 

“Prince, careful!” It’s Chan’s voice that brings him out of the trance, making him take a step back, which almost causes him to fall down the stairs. “Behind you, Chan!” Wonwoo yells right back as he takes out his sword, creating a fire in his empty hand. “Prince, I need you to listen to me!” He briefly glances at Seokmin as he swings his sword towards one of the angels that appeared in front of him. “Focus on your powers, search deep in your core!” 

“Now isn’t the best time to give me extra lessons!” Wonwoo yells back as he listens to the comical instructions. “It’s exactly the time!” Min disagrees, trying to help out one of the younger demons. “Do as I say!” He wants to question it, argue with him at least, but he decides to do as he is told, taking a deep breath as he follows. “Imagine lighting your sword on fire!” Any angel nearby could see in his expression that Wonwoo wasn’t confident in what he was doing, and with powers, the key factor was confidence. Believing you could do whatever you wished for. 

But there have been weirder orders he received before, some he questioned more. 

So, even though Wonwoo doesn’t have the greatest faith in himself, he believes in Seokmin. 

“Woah,” he breathes out in shock, his eyes tracing as the sword ignites in flames. He smirks, gazing into his opponents eyes before he steps forward, cutting through the angel’s body in one swift motion. “How did you–” 

“Now is not the time for that!” Seokmin interrupts him, glancing over at Chan to see how he is holding up. “We need to get out of here immediately!” 

Wonwoo’s eyes never worked so much, so fast as they do now. He scans his surroundings, noticing Jeonghan on the top just watching the scene under him with pleasure. It annoys him how above-everyone he thinks he is. But he needs to focus on something else right now, so he counts the heads. There are eight demons still standing strong against who knows how many angels. He sees fifteen for now, but it’d be foolish to think more couldn’t show up any second. 

“Okay, everyone, I’ll keep them busy but you need to leave, now!” Seokmin tries to argue with Wonwoo’s command but it barely reaches the prince’s ears as he practically pushes them down, refusing to hear it out. He swings his sword again when one of the angels gets too close, glaring at the others so they know he means it. 

It takes no time for the angels to surround him, but it takes even less time for Wonwoo to push his wings out and take them down with one swift sweep. If Jeonghan wanted a show, Wonwoo was going to end it before the plot twist. 

“Is he–” Chan starts, glancing back to see the situation as he runs down the stairs with the others, trying to get as far away as possible before they’d resolve to flying away. “Don’t look back,” Seokmin orders, trying not to do so himself. “He’ll manage. He has to.” 

It’s obvious that they are both worried but there is nothing they can do. Now, it’s up to Wonwoo if he finally understands his powers. 

Jeonghan scoffs, taking a step forward to get closer. Wonwoo doesn’t let him, swinging his right wing right in front of him to stop him before he returns it to its original position in order to keep the other angels glued to the ground. “Don’t take another step or else–” 

“Or else what?” He isn’t scared, not a bit. If anything, Han feels intrigued, looking forward to what the prince might show him. “I’ve lived much longer than you did, prince. Fought many more battles.” Wonwoo swallows, carefully observing the situation he is in. He needs a solution, and he needs it now. 

Then it hits him. Imagine lighting your sword on fire! What if he did that with something else? 

He focuses again, giving all his attention into his wings. 

“I see,” Jeonghan mumbles, unable to take his eyes off the demon in front of him as his wings slowly turn from black to a deep, warm red and his eyes catch the same color. “You take a lot after your father.” 

The comment goes unnoticed by Wonwoo but it doesn’t matter. At the moment, he wouldn’t be able to make sense out of it anyway. 

“You can run after your little friends,” Jeonghan encourages him with a slight movement of his head. “If you can get out of this state, that is.” 

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long it takes for him to push his wings back in, but he certainly doesn’t like how much the angel seems to know about him. It felt as if he knew exactly what Wonwoo was capable of before he even did. It made him wonder just how much he didn’t know himself or his powers. 

“You what?!” Wonwoo closes his eyes, tired of all the yelling that has been happening for the past half hour. Sure, they weren’t able to fulfill their mission, but was it that important? Was it all worth the lives it took? Honestly, he didn’t think so. 

“We weren’t prepared well enough,” Seokmin mutters through gritted teeth as he glances at the king, lowering his head immediately again when their eyes meet. “I underestimated the situation. I should have taken on more knights. Maybe then…” 

“Fighting on their territory couldn’t go well for us no matter what,” Chan steps in, ignoring his elders’ warning looks and whispers. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, we lost that battle before we even took out our swords.” 

“Get them out of here,�� the king commands, and before his personal guards can move to escort the knights out of the area, Seokmin and Chan are already on their feet, leaving as soon as they can. They have done their best. 

“Why are you still here?” The king questions with a frown when his eyes land on his son, who hasn’t moved a bit since he came. Wonwoo looks up, taking a deep breath before he stands up, rethinking his words. “That order wasn’t for me.” 

“You think that?” 

“I know.” 

The king nods just so slightly, glancing at his guards to let them know they can come back to their spots. “You need to go back.” This time, it is an order for him, one he can’t argue with. “They’ve made more mess than what’s worth a few heads you managed to cut this time. We need them to suffer.” We? Wonwoo frowns. It’s more than obvious this whole plan comes from the king’s head, no one else’s, so why is he pretending now that it’d be beneficial for more people? 

“Is that all?” Wonwoo asks after a second thought, unbothered with how impudent he sounds. He catches the shock on the king’s face even though he shakes it off shortly after, sending his son away with one move of his hand. 

“So?” Chan asks immediately when the door closes behind the prince, catching him off guard. He chuckles, glancing at the closed door before he walks away with his two friends by his side. He tells them the absurd order he received and watches as the smiles disappear off their faces. Honestly, it isn’t looking good for Wonwoo, or any of the knights that will be forced to go on the mission with him. 

But, the king’s order is slightly different than what they thought. It isn’t the trained knights that should take on the mission and fight for their king, it’s only the prince who is allowed to go. Everyone knows it’s fishy, and that the king definitely has some ulterior motives, but there is nothing they can do about it. 

And so, after a few days, Wonwoo sets off alone this time, tracing through the dark forest with no hope of returning back home. 

The snow on the side of the mountain still feels the same, and Wonwoo can’t focus on anything but how he wishes to have the same snow down at the kingdom. He is sure the kids would love it just as much. 

But for now, before figuring out how to transfer snow from here to the kingdom, he needs to perfect his powers. He had spoken to Seokmin about what happened before, asked him about how he knew he was capable of something like that, and if he knew what happened when he tried to light his wings on fire. 

“Power strength comes from beliefs. If you believe you can do it, it will happen,” Seokmin explained, drawing something on the board while Wonwoo and Chan sat at the nearest table, listening to everything he had to say. “Then, of course, status also has its values.” — “The moment you explained to me before, when your vision darkened and you felt physical pain on your wings when you tried to apply your powers on them, is something I wouldn’t be able to do. I haven’t seen the king do anything similar, either,” he stopped for a second and turned around to face his two friends. “Honestly, I’m not sure what it was or what you did at that moment, but it might be useful in the future.” 

“I’ll go to the castle library later and see if I can find anything similar,” Wonwoo proclaimed and Seokmin nodded. “No matter if you find anything or not, I believe the best you can do now is try it again. Try as many times as you need until you achieve it again and can see what you’re capable of.” 

Wonwoo wasn’t able to find anything during his search party in the library but it didn’t discourage him from following Seokmin’s advice. If he needed to repeat what he did a thousand times just to get the answers he craved, he would. 

He ends up settling near the stairway to heaven. He knows it’s risky, any of the angels could walk down any minute and he wouldn’t stand a chance, but the truth is, it’s dark under the lamp. 

It feels weird, like something has changed when he watches his wings. They look longer, wider and even though their color has turned back to black, for some reason they don’t feel like they are. But before he can ponder upon it more, his thoughts get interrupted by a little flame fired in his face. 

Wonwoo quickly blinks in shock, waving his hand in front of his face to blow away the smoke. “What the–” Another flame. This time, fired at his right wing. “Chan, if you followed me here–” His left wing receives the next hit. Before he can take another hit, he hides his wings again, annoyed as he narrows his eyes to see, expecting to meet his younger friend. 

“You’re not…” the shock on his face is obvious when his eyes set on a woman, one he doesn’t recognize. “Hands up.” He obeys, carefully examining the person in front of him. He blinks a few times as he takes the image of you in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing. 

“Who are you?” You ask, aiming at his left leg this time in case he would want to move. “As far as I know, demons aren’t exactly welcomed here.” You take a step forward, watching as his eyes move from one side to another, probably trying to find an escape route. “Who are you?” You question again, this time harsher. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately, you fire at his face again. “Hey!” He complains, but your fire doesn’t leave any bruises. You doubt if he even feels any pain from it. “Wonwoo! My name is Jeon Wonwoo!” He admits when he notices another flame appearing in your hand. 

You scoff, “Of course you are.” 

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, you come closer to him, grabbing his right horn and pulling him to the ground. “Your little game is over. You’re coming with me.” 

Wonwoo hisses when you touch his horn, his eyes closing on instinct. The fire before was annoying, that’s for sure, but this hurt like hell, so much that without having to apply much force, you brought him to his knees. “Wait, you–” You tug on his horn, making him look up at you and he shuts up again. “Stay quiet and I might be gentle,” you smile innocently and he gulps, trying to stay as calm as possible as he gazes into your eyes, a part of him finding pleasure in the way you touch him. This wasn’t going to end well.

You feel his stares on you the whole way back to your village, debating if you should slap him out of it or ignore him. Eventually, you decide on the latter, just hoping the fire ropes you created to tie him up would be enough to hold him. 

“What is that?” You turn around when you hear one of the guards’ voices behind you, tugging Wonwoo with yourself. “A demon I found in the mountains,” you explain, glancing up at him. You love how even though you have to look up at him, it feels like you have the upper hand now. “Go on, introduce yourself,” you encourage him proudly. 

When Wonwoo’s name leaves his lips, the guard’s expression changes. His eyes widen before narrowing again as he looks the demon up and down, stopping at the fire ropes you made. “How long will those last?” 

“A few hours, I don’t have enough power to keep it alive for longer.” He nods, calling over another guard. Wonwoo watches everything with caution, trying to remember the village layout as best as he can. “Take him to the cage in the back. We’ll inform your fiancé.” You hesitate for a second before nodding and turning around, refusing to give them enough time to examine your face. 

“Who was–” 

“It’s better you don’t ask many questions,” you interrupt him, not sparing him a glance. You notice a few people looking out of their window to see what’s going on but you don’t look at them either. Involving as little people as possible is the key right now. 

“Is everyone here a fire fairy?” He turns his head towards you, watching the people around. You don’t answer him but he figures out the answer is no when he catches a glimpse of a little boy showing off to his friends by creating a snowflake in his hand. “Where are you taking me?” No answer again. “Why do you know who I am? And why did those guards know who I am?” 

You sigh when he doesn’t give up, stopping in the middle of the road. “How about you shut up, follow me, and then ask questions. If you don’t piss people off, maybe they’ll give you answers.” 

“What people?” You glare at him and he closes his mouth again. He doesn’t say anything afterwards and you learn to appreciate the silence. You wouldn’t have guessed the demon prince known for his closed-off attitude could get on your nerves so much, but sometimes, we can’t see into the future. 

That’s something Wonwoo proves to you a lot in the upcoming days. 

Wonwoo grunts when you practically push him inside one of the cages, locking the door behind him before he can turn around. He sighs and steps closer, grabbing the metal bars and leaning forward to prove how tired he is. You scoff at his action, taking a step back. “Care to give me my answers now?” 

You stay quiet, smirking which creates a grin on his face. “So this is how you want to play?” 

“I don’t need to play anything,” you shake your head with a smile. “As far as I know, you’re the one locked up.” 

There is a hint of amusement behind his smile as he watches you, unable to take his eyes off you. “Who are you?” He questions. You stay still for a second, trying to read him the best you can before you decide to share your name with him, figuring out there is nothing he can do with that information. “And this fiancé of yours?” He continues his questionnaire, making you roll your eyes at the hint of mockery in his voice, almost as if he didn’t believe you could have a partner. “Wait and see,” you shrug, unbothered. 

He continues asking you one question after another, and you eventually give up, sharing with him whatever he asks for. You explain how the angels approached you before and asked for a small help with keeping their territory safe, how Jeonghan himself explained to the selected group of people what happened that morning in heaven, but you leave out the fact you know about his new found powers—the ones he still doesn’t know how to get under control yet. 

“How many people know about me?” You open your mouth to brush him off and tell him you won’t disclose that information but before you can do so, another fairy interrupts you. “I think that’s enough bonding for now, don’t you?” You turn your head towards the voice, your lips curling up into a smile when you land your eyes on the ice prince. “Your highness,” you bow slightly and it makes him chuckle as he comes up to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you look up. “Hi, love,” he smiles, pressing his lips on yours. 

Wonwoo coughs to interrupt you and you scoff. “Prince Wonwoo himself,” you introduce your prisoner and the proud grin on your fiancé’s face makes you smile. “Great job, darling,” he praises you, quickly glancing at the two guards following him to dismiss them. “For sure, darling,” Wonwoo mocks, barely sparing the prince a glance. You don’t react to his comment, ignoring him and letting the fairy prince speak instead. 

“My name is Minghao,” he introduces himself with a slight bow. Wonwoo hesitates for a second before bowing too, deciding to declare respect to the prince even though he is currently keeping him imprisoned. “I hope she didn’t cause you too much discomfort while bringing you here, that would be very unfortunate,” he quickly glances your way at the mention of you before returning his full attention to the demon. 

Wonwoo frowns at how painfully fake Minghao sounds but he doesn’t say anything. He knows if the situation was turned around he wouldn’t behave much differently. 

“She took great care of me,” he grins, slowly looking down at the bars he is still holding onto for the effect before speaking again. “But ever since I came to the village my experience wasn’t the greatest,” he tries to shake with the bars to prove his point but it only makes the fairy prince chuckle. 

“I’m sorry about that, but there is nothing more I can do for you. I fear this is how you’ll have to stay for a while. At least until Jeonghan—or any other angel—comes to take over.” 

“So you plan on giving me up to the angels? I see.” 

Minghao hums, and it tools like he is thinking about something. “I mean, there isn’t much more to do with you, is there?” When he looks at Wonwoo again there is a hint of amusement in his eyes and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew he has already won. It pisses Wonwoo off. 

“I guess not,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. 

“Love, will you look after him for now? I’ll talk to Jun and ask him to visit the angels as soon as possible. The less people know about him the better.” You nod even though you can’t say you’d look forward to spending more time with the demon. It’s not exactly like you have a choice anyway. If a prince orders you something, you listen without complaining. Even if it’s your own future husband. “I’ll see you later at dinner,” he says, kissing your forehead before leaving again. 

Wonwoo notices he doesn’t look at you while doing so, though. He is looking at him. 

Wonwoo sits on the ground, his back pressed against the iron fence while you sit on a chair near the cage, a book in your hands. 

“What is it about?” He wonders, his arms resting on his knees as he turns his head towards you. “Stuff,” you respond, flipping to another page. “Like?” He prompts. “Whatever you want to think it’s about,” you say, not paying much attention to him as your eyes scan the words on the page. “Hm,” he hums and when you finally think you might get a break from him, he speaks up again. “So you’re reading about a fairy being fucked by a demon.” 

“What?!” You turn your head his way immediately, slamming the book shut in embarrassment. However, the smirk you see on his face turns your flusteredness into frustration. You close your eyes, tilting your head slightly as you try to calm yourself down. He chuckles at your reaction, a part of him glad he is locked behind the bars when he sees you close your fist. He knows if he was outside with you at the moment, you would have punched him. 

“You said you’re reading whatever I think you’re reading,” he shrugs, trying to make it seem like he doesn’t fear you a bit. You sigh, shaking your head at him. 

“So is it not about that?” He asks, laughing when you glare at him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he raises his hands in defence, unable to constrain his laugh. 

“Who would have thought a prince could be such an idiot?” It’s you giving him a question this time, and even though it’s supposed to offend him, he smiles. “Who would have thought fairies—who I’ve been taught are these innocent creatures—would have the soul to lock up an actually innocent demon?” 

“You attacked the angels for no reason,” you remind him. “And you went there again, this time alone for some reason, to do what exactly?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, knowing he can’t argue with that. “I was simply following orders.” 

“Alone?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him. “A bit weird, don’t you think so?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “But you don’t question the king.” You hum, the silence that follows louder than you’d like. 

“You know that was a suicide mission, right?” You finally speak again. He nods. “I’m not as stupid as you want me to be.” — “I’m also not as weak as you want me to be, though. Don’t underestimate me.” He brings a smile back to your face and it causes his lips to curl up too. 

“If you had just slightly over average mana, those fire ropes I made wouldn’t have stopped you from breaking away.” 

“Maybe I just didn’t want to run away.” 

You sigh, the smile still on your lips as you shake your head at him. You get up from your chair, throwing the book to him. “I’ll be back later. Use up your time and learn something so the angels don’t crush you immediately.” You catch his grin as he looks down at the book and when he raises his head to say something, you walk away with a slight wave of your hand. 

Wonwoo picks up the book you left him, his fingers tracing the cover as he reads the title. Fire guide and everything that comes with responsibility, advanced learners. He chuckles. “A story about a fairy and demon would have been more interesting,” he mumbles but still opens the book to see what’s inside. 

You stare at your plate, frowning at the ham and rice. The same thing you’ve been eating the whole week. “How is he doing?” You look up upon hearing your fiancé’s voice and place your fork aside again. “As well as a prisoner can, I assume.” Minghao nods, looking at you from across the table. “Jun promised to set off after dinner, Jeonghan should be here the first thing in the morning,” he informs you, a heavy sigh following right after. “When all of this is done, we can finally resume the wedding plans. Everyone is pushing me to have a descendant as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, of course,” you mumble with a nod. “Whatever the people need.” He calls out your name, a hint of pity in eyes as he looks at you. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted but I’m trying.” 

“I know,” you assure him, forcing a smile. “I was never meant to be out in the world anyway.” 

“I promise we’ll figure it out,” he tries to make you feel better, you know he is doing his best, but you can’t help but hate it. The only dream you ever had was to fight. Be useful and prove yourself to the other fairies, prove that just because you were a woman you didn’t need to revolve your life around a family. However, all your dreams came crashing down when you learnt what everyone planned for your life without asking you. 

You were barely five when you met Minghao for the first time. You were confused as to why the prince came down to the training room but didn’t ask many questions, not wanting to be rude. It was your dad who encouraged you to talk to the prince in the first place, but you’re sure it was all the king’s plan from the beginning. It made sense, the royal possessing ice powers and the daughter of the king’s personal knight who showed signs of great control over her powers since she was little. It was a great deal for both parties. 

At least until you showed interest in wanting to lead your life yourself and follow in your dad’s footsteps, offering to be the prince’s personal knight. It sounded foolish to everyone. Minghao never thought so, though. He was the only one cheering you on in your plans, convincing everyone you would do great if they just gave you the chance, even coming to the king to tell him how it would make the two of you closer and make your relationship easier. Eventually, thanks to his help, you managed to get what you always wanted. 

But ever since you became an adult, the public became more and more demanding about what your relationship with the prince should look like and everyone started doubting you again. They wanted you closed inside the fairies’ palace, away from the world outside to do nothing but raise the prince’s children. 

Minghao tried to be supportive as much as he could but once the pressure came down on his back too, he always chose to listen to the king’s orders, following what the people wanted. It was a miracle that you still got to keep your position as the royal knight, honestly. You knew how fragile your place was. One misstep and the next thing you’d know, you’d be locked in between those very four walls you were occupying right now. 

“I’m full,” you proclaim, not waiting for the maid to come pick up your plate or your fiancé to say anything before you stand up. You glance at him, feeling bad when you see the apologetic look he gives you. You want to be by his side, support him on his way to become the fairy king, but you can’t put him before yourself. “I’m going to train and stay outside for a while. No need to wait for me, you can go to bed before I come back.” 

You watch him open his mouth as he wants to argue with you, maybe even ask you to stay inside, but he closes his mouth again when he realizes what he was about to do. He knows he can’t do that to you. Not after everyone else already asked you to do that. 

“Be careful,” is what he settles for at the end and you nod to him. “Good night,” you smile, leaving the dining room and going straight to the outer gym. 

Swinging your sword around and attacking the wooden enemies was surprisingly more helpful than you thought. At first you just wanted to get out of the room for some fresh air, but when you picked up the weapon, you felt a lot more at ease than when you left the palace. This was your true calling, what you were meant to do. You couldn’t let anyone take it from you. 

You weren’t sure what time it was when you left the area, wandering through the village. You were jealous of everyone sleeping peacefully in the houses you passed. But you also felt a different emotion towards them—one just as strong. Anger. They were the cause of your problems in the first place. Hadn’t it been for their opinions on your and the prince’s situation, you might have been in the greatest relationship ever. 

You sigh as you reach the last house, looking up at the stars. You wondered what they thought of you, what they had planned for you. A part of you hoped that it was different from what the villagers intended. 

“Am I being dramatic?” You ask quietly, biting your bottom lip as you look for the answer in the night sky. You kick one of the rocks under your feet and look down again, taking one more lap around. 

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, tilting your head to see better. You’re unsure why you decided to come here. You were already on your way back to the palace when you looked back, and as if he was pulling you towards him on purpose, you ended up going to check on your prisoner. 

“Is that the book?” You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things right, chuckling when you comprehend the situation happening in front of you. Wonwoo used his powers to create a small fire lamp once it has gotten dark and has been reading your book. 

He flinches, the fire going off as he loses focus. “Fuck, you scared me,” he mumbles when he turns his head to you. He lights up the fire lamp again and presses his back against the metal bars, closing the book to focus his full attention on you. “Why are you awake, and here?” 

“‘Cause,” you mumble, walking closer to him casually. “Let me guess, troubles in paradise?” He laughs, making you roll your eyes. “He can’t be any good for you.” 

“Because you know me and him so well, right,” you scoff at his comment, debating why you decided to come here again. You already regretted it. “I don’t need to know you or him. I have eyes.” You don’t say anything and he takes it as his cue to continue talking. “This is all I’ve been doing my whole life. Watching people. I might not know the reason,  but you don’t have the spark in your eyes when you look at him.” 

“I do,” you argue but your voice sounds broken, as if he had hit a weak spot. “You want to,” he corrects. “You don’t.” 

“You don’t know me,” you remind him but he only chuckles. “Fine, then let me get to know you.” 

“Why?” You frown, trying to read his face. It didn’t make sense. His attentiveness, attempts to get closer to you, and neither did his calmness. He was locked up, knowing you were going to bring him to the angels the next day, so why did he look so unbothered by it? You couldn’t quite figure out what was going on through his head. 

“We have the whole night ahead of us,” he shrugs. “And it doesn’t look like you’d want to go to sleep anytime soon.” You stay quiet, trying to think about what to do. He is right, you don’t want to go back to the palace and fall asleep on the bed next to your fiancé, but was staying here and spending the night talking to the person you captured just mare hours ago a good idea? 

“Fine,” you agree, prompting him to start. “If you don’t bore me to death with your talking then I might stay and tell you something about myself too.” 

You soon get reminded the world isn’t just black and white. Wonwoo tells you about why they allegedly went to attack the angels in the first place, about the monster attacks that have been happening in the past months. You recall those. You had looked into them with a few of the other knights and after talking to a few people, you came to the conclusion that it was demons behind those attacks. 

Turns out, you were wrong all along. According to him, it was the angels who caused all those troubles, framing the demons out of spite and nothing more. That was the first step to starting a war, and the demon king didn’t let the change pass by him, immediately planning their next move with his knights. 

“It wasn’t for nothing.” 

“I see,” you nod even though you’re not certain starting a fight like this has been the best idea. 

“I don’t think fighting was necessary, no battles ever are really, but I couldn’t just disobey the king’s orders. None of the guys could,” he mumbles, sighing when he remembers all the bodies the mission caused them to leave behind. 

“You’re right,” you smile slightly. “I get that more than you’d think, actually.” Wonwoo hums, questioning what you mean with his eyes. 

And just like that, it ends up being you talking his ears off next. You tell him about your fiancé, how your parents set you two up when you were little and about how even though you adore Minghao, you have been questioning everything lately. 

“You should keep fighting,” he comments, grabbing your book again. He stares at the title, brushing off the dirt on it before handing it to you through the bars. “You have free will, do what you want to do.” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t have the option to just do what I want,” you argue. “I thought I did, that I could satisfy everyone and still do what feels right, but they exclude each other. I can’t be a mother to the kids everyone wants me to have and fight in the front lines at the same time.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not what the people believe in.” 

“Then change their beliefs.” He says it so casually, as if it was easy to do. But it’s far from that. 

“As you see, I’m a prince and yet, I’m being the only one in the front line at the same time.” You’re not sure if it was his attempt to make a joke out of his situation, but it makes you chuckle anyway. “I should take you as my role model then.” 

“Oh, for sure,” his laugh fills your ears and you watch him with a smile on your face. For some reason, sitting here with him in the middle of the night, talking about things you never even mentioned to your fiancé feels…right. It’s casual, neither of you expecting anything else from the other one. It’s a nice chance for once. 

As you continue chatting about nothing and everything, you feel your heart sinking the more time passes. The more time you spend with him, the worse you feel about what’s supposed to happen when the sun rises again. You begin to think you don’t want to let go of him. 

“I honestly didn’t think I could get so close to them,” Wonwoo says, a smile spread across his lips as he talks about his friends. “I guess it’s true that the right people always come into your life when you least expect it.” It sounds cliché and it makes you roll your eyes when you see the look he gives you, but deep down you’re thinking the same thing. A part of you always hoped for someone like that, and now that you were slowly giving up on them, Wonwoo showed up, with his stupid dark eyes that seemed to read you perfectly. 

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper when you avert your gaze from him and gaze at the night sky. He hums confusedly, scanning you with his eyes before he shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he answers, the back of his head resting against the metal bars behind him as he looks at the stars with you. “It’s not your fault. You’re only following orders.” 

You bite your bottom lip until it starts to bleed to get your mind to focus on the pain instead of what was going to happen, but when you glanced at the man beside you, the guilt overtakes you again. For the first time in your life, you doubt the orders you received and question yourself. You should have never agreed to talk to him. You never should have come here and let your guard down. Hadn’t you done that, you’d have no problems taking him to the angels. 

“You’re bleeding,” he comments softly, raising his hand up to your face. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a second, he makes you forget about everything. You gaze into his eyes and he quickly pulls his hand back to his side, realizing what he’s done. “Sorry,” he mumbles but you barely register his words. 

There is a moment of silence that follows, the tension building up as you gaze into each other’s eyes, both of you forgetting about the world around you as you wait for the other person to make the first move. 

Eventually, it’s Wonwoo who moves first, turning his body to face you and casually moving closer. The iron fence around him hasn’t pissed him off as much as it did now since you locked him there. 

You try to breathe but it feels like the air gets stuck in your throat as you grab onto the metal bars and he places his hands on top of yours. He looks up at you, still sitting on the cold ground while you stay in your place on your chair. So close yet so far. 

You hear something rustle near you and immediately pull your hands away, finally able to breathe as you bring your mind back to reality. You have a fiancé you love, you remind yourself. Yet, you can’t help but steal glances at the boy beside you. You question what you’re doing here again. There is a handsome man waiting for you in your shared bed, so why do you keep sitting outside with this demon? 

“I should– I should go,” you proclaim, quickly standing up. A wave of guilt runs through you when the whole situation comes crashing down to you and you try to avoid his disappointed look as you walk past him to get back to the palace. 

Still, you can’t help it and glance back once more.

You try to sleep, you really do. You do your best but no matter how much you try, you only keep turning around, unable to turn off your head. You groan, getting up again and staying as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t wake up your fiancé. He seemed to have no trouble sleeping. 

You walk to the nearest window in the room, opening it so the cold air could hit your face. The sun is slowly rising up and as you watch the sky gain more colors, your mind becomes even more of a mess. “For fucks sake,” you curse under your breath, closing the window again and looking around the room to find your clothes. 

“You’re stupid, annoying, bothersome and absolutely screaming trouble,” you babble, your feet rushing towards the cage faster than they ever did. Wonwoo looks confused as he watches you, frowning as he accidentally kicks into the iron fence while stretching his legs. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t know,” you respond, unlocking the cage. You really don’t. You’re not sure what has gotten into you but you don’t have the time to question it. “Get up,” you command and it takes him a second to process what is happening. He quickly stands up, a part of him hoping he isn’t reading you completely wrong and you aren’t planning on taking him to the angels yourself. 

“You–” 

“Be quiet and follow me,” you order, looking around to make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. “Before I regret it,” you add, finally meeting his eyes. You grab his arm, pulling him with yourself as you try to rush to the forest behind the village. He stops you. “Wait, you can’t.” You try to make him move again but he is too heavy for you. You groan, letting go of his arm. “Can’t you just listen to me for a second? I need to get you out of here before Hao wakes up. I don’t know how much time we have left.” 

He gazes into your eyes, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He wants to go, live, but his head can’t win a fight with his heart. He can’t let you do this. Your name leaves his lips and your heart feels heavy. “Lock me back up. Go to bed and live your life.” 

You hesitate, unable to look away from him. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” you say, grabbing his hand again with pleading eyes. “So, please. Come with me.” 

Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat when your words reach his ears and all his initial worries and plans to make you come back to your fiancé disappear. He tugs on your hand, pulling you closer with ease. Your body presses against his due to the movement and you try your best not to freak out at the sudden intimacy. 

He isn’t sure what has come over him but his hand moves up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over it softly. You gaze into his eyes, trying to figure out what is going on in his mind, but before you can read him fully, he leans down to you, his lips brushing against yours slightly. It’s not a full kiss but your breath shakes nonetheless, sending shivers down his spine. 

You never imagine there would be a time in your life where you’d be kissing someone other than Minghao, yet, here you are, pushing your lips against Wonwoo’s urgently, your right hand moving up to the back of his neck where you tug at his hair slightly, causing a light moan to escape his lips. 

“W-wait,” you pull away, your left hand squeezing his biceps as he holds you close to himself by your waist. “I– I have a fiancé,” you say but do nothing to get away from him. Wonwoo smirks, squeezing your waist tighter. “Oh, yeah?” He coos, watching as your cheeks turn red. “Then why are you here?” Because you make me feel seen and alive. You stay quiet, and his smirk grows wider. 

You try to open your mouth and say something, anything to brush that smirk off his face, but when the muffled voices reach your ears, you know there is no time for that. He nods to you, turning around to try and see how much time left you had. “Wait, I need to do one more thing,” he proclaims, running back to the cage. He picks up your book and throws it your way before flaming at the lock, making sure his escape would look like an accident. 

“Come on, we need to run,” you hurry him, grabbing his hand as soon as he is close enough. You’re not sure yet if this is something you’ll regret later but you don’t care. This might have been exactly what you needed in your life all along. 

The warmth of Wonwoo’s hand keeps you calm as you run through the forest, each of your steps ringing in your ear as a reminder of what you were doing. 

“Can’t we slow down now?” He asks but it feels like talking to a wall. He sighs, squeezing your hand tighter with a slight pull to stop you. You stumble on your feet, sending a glare his way. He laughs quietly, stopping completely. “Come here,” he mumbles and you watch him hesitantly. You step closer to him after a bit of thinking, biting the inside of your cheek as he smiles at you. 

Wonwoo looks down at you, finding himself falling into your eyes as you look up at him. He wishes he could engrave the image into his head and be able to look at it at any time. “We can’t slow down now,” you break the silence carefully. He shakes his head, “We can.” 

“I need a break,” he proclaims and you raise an eyebrow at that. Were his physical abilities that bad? “Something that would take my mind off things,” he adds, the look in his eyes suggestive as he closes the space you left out between the two of you, brushing off a few hair strands off your face with his fingers to see you better. You gulp as you realize what he has in mind, anticipation slowly building up in you. 

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out his name, creating a smile on his lips. “Yeah?” He coos softly, staying in place which somehow drives you more crazy than if he had closed the space between you completely. “You’re terrible,” you curse at him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling him down so you could reach him. 

Your lips crash onto each other within seconds, the kiss full of need and lust neither of you are able to explain with words. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his fingers digging into your flesh as he searches for more, anything that could provide him some extra pleasure. 

“We really–” The rest of your sentence gets swallowed as he kisses you again, unable to let go. He smirks against your lips when you leave out a moan, the grip you have on his shirt tightening. You pull away, ignoring his disagreeing whine and pushing him away with all the power you have. “We need to keep moving,” you state, refusing to play this game of his. “Let’s go.” 

Wonwoo mumbles some quiet curses under his breath but obeys, letting you lead the way as you wander through the forest, trying to find the quickest but also most discreet way back to the demon kingdom. 

“Are you sure that is where you want to go?” He asks, hesitant. The king’s orders were clear: don’t come back unless you’ve made a mess with the angels. “Where else would we go? The angels? I don’t think so,” you respond, only looking forward as you follow the road under your feet. He sighs, rethinking his opinions. “We could just stay out here, somewhere. Go to the beach, or maybe blend in somewhere near the humans,” he offers and you stop again, turning around to face him. “Are you serious right now?” 

You sigh, looking around and running your hand through your hair as you try to think. “Look, I know the king sent you on this unreasonable mission but we need to get you back to where you’re safe. The angels might not be actively looking for you, but I’m sure Minghao is. He’ll realize we are together sooner or later.” 

He knows you’re right, that you can’t just stay out here, but the thought of sneaking back into the kingdom scares him more than he’d want to admit. “You’re right,” he nods after a second of silence. “Let’s continue and figure things out as we go.” 

You smile at him, giving him a reassuring nod before you hold his hand again, resuming your plan. 

Wonwoo stops when he hears muffled voices coming from somewhere on his left. You share a glance with him confusedly but he doesn’t explain anything as he tries to make sense of what he hears. “Surely not…” he mumbles, narrowing his eyes and trying to capture the movements nearby. He scoffs, finding it unbelievable as he sets his eyes on two male figures. 

“What is it?” You ask, looking the same way he is. When you spot two men in the distance you quickly create a fireball in your hand, the same one you attacked Wonwoo with when you first met. “Wait, no need,” he stops you before you can fire their way. “These two aren’t dangerous,” he laughs quietly, watching them with a smile on his face. 

“Finally!” The shorter one yells excitedly, running towards the two of you, his friend right behind him. “We thought you were dead!” 

You watch them cautiously while Wonwoo greets them as if they were old friends and then it finally clicks. You redirect your attention to the blond one, tilting your head slightly. “Lee Chan?” You question and he looks your way, nodding. “And that is Seokmin?” You guess and this time it’s Wonwoo that nods, his grin growing wider at the thought of you actually listening to what he was talking about before. 

“And you are…?” Seokmin asks carefully when he reaches you, sending a knowing look towards Wonwoo before you can even answer. You introduce yourself shortly, also explaining how you found yourself here with the demon prince when they ask you. “I see,” Seokmin nods, chuckling a bit when he looks at his friend again. “Looks like you’ve had fun while we were searching for you.” 

“If your view of fun is being locked up in a cage then of course.” 

“You didn’t seem to complain much before,” you tease him, finding amusement in the way Wonwoo can’t hide his smile when he looks at you, memories of the previous night vivid in his head. “How could I when I had this pretty fairy next to me?” He teases you right back, watching your cheeks turn red. 

Chan clears his throat to remind you they were still there and you avert your eyes from the prince, embarrassed. “Uhm…” Chan starts when he has your attention again, quickly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. The switch in the atmosphere is immediate, and your smile disappears off your face even quicker when you notice the pitiful look in the blond’s eyes. Whatever he wanted to say next was going to hit. 

“There is something you should know about,” Seokmin proclaims and Wonwoo’s eyes quickly flick between his two friends, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “The king…” he hesitates, trying to find the right words for the message he was bearing. “Shortly after you left yesterday, he ordered for Misoon to be killed,” he admits, the words barely above a whisper. Yet, Wonwoo hears them better than anything else before. She was– She– He froze, starting to feel dizzy as the words ring in his ears. Everything around him becomes blurry, the voices of his friends muffled as he tries to regain his composure. 

“We were all shocked, some of the guys asked too many questions and he–” Seokmin pauses, the pity in his eyes changing to worry as he catches the switch in Wonwoo, debating on if he should continue or not. “He dismissed all of us, said the knights won’t be needed for a while now. He told the public our latest mission was successful and there was nothing to worry about now. And as far as we know, Monsoon’s death was…masked as an accident,” he continues even though he isn’t sure Wonwoo is still listening. 

You catch the change in the demon’s eyes as well, carefully squeezing his hand in yours, trying to find the right words to say. Wonwoo turns his head towards you slowly, blinking as he tries to make sense of the situation, figure out what was the reasoning behind all of this. “I’m…I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head slightly as if it could help him shake off all the information too. 

“It’s okay not to be fine,” you assure him, your thumb moving in slow circles on the top of his. You watch him bite the inside of his cheek as he holds himself back, his eyes flickering to his two friends next to him and then back to you. You nod, somehow understanding the small movement. You know it’d be a lot easier to comfort him if they weren’t around, if you could just pull him into a hug, but you know Wonwoo doesn’t want that. Not now with them watching the two of you. You understand, and don’t push him. 

“It’s been a mess,” Chan mumbles carefully, staring at the ground beneath his feet. “And we thought it’d be better to let you know that before we get back.” The demon prince nods, the grip he has on your hand becoming tighter as if he searched for your support through it all anyway. “Thanks,” he whispers, doing his best to hold up. Not only in front of them, but also you. 

The thought rushes through him so fast he barely gets a chance to catch it, but when he does, it’s like a reminder of what he is doing at the moment. Why were you here again? No matter how strongly drawn to you he fell, he didn’t know you. You didn’t know him and yet, here you were, holding his hand and trying to help him accept everything his friends just told him. He glances your way, the sincerity piercing through your eyes as you exchange eye contact with him before turning to the two knights beside him, saying you should get moving again. 

They both hesitate, as if they weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do. “She is right,” Wonwoo speaks up quietly, remembering what he was hiding from. “There is an annoyed fairy prince somewhere behind us that wants to give me to the angels and watch me die,” a chuckle leaves his lips as he finishes but he isn’t sure why. There is nothing funny about it, he knows that. Yet, he can’t control it. 

Seokmin and Wonwoo share a brief glance, telling each other everything they need with their eyes before the younger man wraps his arm around Chan’s shoulder, forcing him to walk first with him in order to give you and the prince space. 

You stay silent at first, not sure what you should say. You didn’t know who Misoon was, or why it mattered so much to him that she was dead now, but you didn’t have the heart to ask either. You didn’t know how to comfort him, tell him everything would be okay again without sounding off. It felt like it wasn’t your place to do so. 

Wonwoo seems to catch the hesitance you feel as he walks with you, following right behind his friends. You seem tense no matter how he looks at it. A sigh leaves his lips, causing you to look up at him. “She…raised me,” he whispers softly as if he was reading your mind. “Misoon was like a mother to me, especially after my biological passed away,” he admits and your eyes widen, suddenly feeling worse about the situation. 

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper, giving his hand a firm squeeze. A smile tugs in the corner of his lips as he watches you. He doesn’t question why you’re there anymore. He might not know you fully yet, but he knows he’d be a fool to let you get away. 

“I just wish there would be a way for you to make me feel better…” he leans down to you, his hot breath landing softly on your ear and sending shivers down your spine. He glances at his two friends again and then back at you. “Something that would really take my mind off things.” 

It’s more than obvious what he’s suggesting and you have to bite your bottom lip in order not to give him the reaction he wants. As much as you’d love to help him out, you’re not sure if it’d be a good idea. Not only because of the guys accompanying you, but also the current state of his. You couldn’t just give him your body as a tissue. 

“Wonwoo…” His name leaves your lips and you turn to him, examining his face. You stop after a moment of hesitation, sighing. “Don’t do this.” 

“Do what?” He asks, the smile still on his lips. Yet, it feels forced the more you look at it. 

“Turning off. That’s what you’re doing right now.” He blinks a few times, trying to make sense of your words. “You’re turning off your head, your emotions just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain.” 

“I’m not doing that,” he disagrees and you exhale again. “Yeah? Then explain why you’re behaving like this? It’s okay to be sad, to be emotional over this,” you remind him and he frowns. “You can’t just act like nothing happened and fuck your emotions into me.” 

He hears you, he really does. He knows you’re right and can see where you’re coming from, but the moment you finish, he can’t help it and imagine how good that’d feel. With you bent over one of the large stones on the side of the road, your pants with your gear on the ground as he slams his hips against yours, his mind on you and you only. He imagines the pretty sounds you’d make under him, screaming his name while he bites your shoulders from behind, leaving love bites all over your body. 

His dick twitches at the mare thought of it and he is sure to lose his mind soon. 

“Are you serious?” You ask, your eyes falling to the growing bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry,” he groans, averting your eyes as he looks for his friends to make sure they aren’t looking your way. “But it really isn’t about my head turning off, or avoiding things,” he proclaims, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I want you so bad, and I’d want you no matter the situation.” 

The words mean nothing but horny blabs as he searches for some pleasure, you know that, and yet, they make you feel some sort of way. He looks somehow sincere as he gazes into your eyes, the words feeling like a confession when they leave his lips. 

You shake your head slightly, trying to think of a solution. You just can’t let him walk around the forest with a boner, can you? “Stay quiet,” you warn him, pointing to the side of the road to signal for him to go there. He tries to find answers in your eyes, anything that would help him figure out if you were going to fulfil his fantasies or let him suffer by himself, but he sees nothing. Still, he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. 

As if he knew something was off, Seokmin turns around to talk to Wonwoo to get his mind off things, but when he doesn’t see him or you behind them, he stops. He looks around, closing his eyes in realization when he notices you running off to the forest, somewhere where he or Chan couldn’t bother you and play the third wheel. 

“What is it?” The blond turns around as well, confusedly looking at his friend when he doesn’t see you or his prince anywhere. “We better wait for them, this might take a moment,” Min sighs, exchanging a look with Chan before he points to a fallen tree on the other side of the road where they could wait. 

You don’t say anything as you push Wonwoo on one of the trees, pressing your lips on his before he can complain, his arms wrapping around you in an instance, the bulge in his pants pressing against you as he pulls you closer. His hands wander under your shirt, quickly squeezing your breast as if you were to disappear any second. 

You whine into the kiss, unbuttoning his pants to give him what he was craving so much. He tries to do the same, his hands moving to pull down your pants but you quickly press your palm on his chest, stopping him. “You’re not getting everything,” you proclaim and something in his eyes switches. “Don’t be too greedy and just let me take care of it, alright?” He nods, too lost in the moment to be able to argue with you. 

He imagined this differently—he thought it’d be him taking the lead, guiding you through everything as he had no hope for your fiancé to be anyone who’d know how to show you any pleasure—but he couldn’t say he’d mind how things turned out. Honestly, he’d let you take the lead anytime if that was what you wanted. 

You tease him through the fabric of his underwear, proudly smiling as you listen to his moans while squeezing his cock softly, his pre-cum starting to leak through the thin layer that was still covering him. “You look a bit broken,” you mumble, smirking as you watch him throw his head back, trying to keep the sounds leaving his mouth as quiet as possible. “Your—fuck—your fault,” he manages to say between broken moans. 

“Oh yeah?” You tease him, finally pulling down his underwear and letting his hard-on breathe. “My fault? Weren’t you the one basically begging me to let you fuck me?” He asks, palming his length slowly. Too slow. He quickly catches your wrist in his hand, leaning down and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You chuckle, your free hand running through his hair. “‘S okay,” you coo, resuming your movements when he slowly lets go of your hand. 

It’s that moment when he realizes he was so incredibly wrong. About you, your experience, but also about himself. Because now that he has you so close, gliding your hand up and down his cock, he admits to himself something he thought he’d never do—he didn’t want to take the lead. He wanted to obey you, do whatever you tell him to and be good for you. 

Oh god. He closes his eyes as he slowly thrusts his hips towards your hand, chasing for more. He was in so much trouble. 

As you walk back to meet with Seokmin and Chan, you feel a bit awkward. You’re not sure how long you’ve been there but you know it changed your whole view on Wonwoo. Somehow, you wanted him even more than before now. Something about him, the way he clung to you, whined at your touch and now followed you as if he was your puppy, made your head spin in a way you didn’t know you could feel. 

Wonwoo clears his throat, avoiding making any eye contact with the guys. “Sorry we– We thought we heard something so we went to check it out, turns out it was just a wild animal.” 

“Oh yeah?” Seokmin starts, not letting him brush it off so easily. “What animal?” Wonwoo hesitates, trying to remember what animals lived in this region of Aethera. “Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I know what animal has gotten wild,” he jokes and the way both of you turn red is embarrassing. 

Chan laughs at the sight, shaking his head as he stands up. “Let’s keep going, we need to get as far as possible before the sun sets.” You nod slightly, swallowing a lump in your throat as you quickly glance at Wonwoo before averting your gaze again, focusing on the task at hand. 

As the sun sets down and you reach an empty cave, you all agree to settle down for the night. “Min, can you help me out?” Wonwoo asks as he stops at the entrance. It’s not a question towards you but you still feel curious, your eyes flicking from one boy to the other as they leave the cage together, not bothered enough with explaining themselves. 

Chan seems to catch your glances because as he helps you make a fire that will keep you guys warm through the night, he speaks up. “Don’t worry about them, whatever it is that they are doing I don’t think it’s anything to be scared of.” You hum with a nod, brushing your hands together as you stand up again once you’re done. 

You hesitate as you watch the blond, biting the inside of your cheek and wondering if the question you’re about to ask isn’t too insulting. “Uhm…” you start and he immediately looks up at you, his eyebrows raised in question. “What is it?” He wonders, his voice soft. “The demon king…” you furrow your eyebrows as you try to find the right words. “Don’t you think he’s a bit, well, unreasonable? Cruel? I mean, why would he send his own son on an impossible mission? Alone on top of that.” 

Chan’s eyes soften when you finally ask what’s been bothering you, his eyes trailing off to the ground again as he thought about his answer. “I can’t disagree with that,” he mumbles, raising his head again. “Honestly, he is probably worse than what you think, but we need a king no matter what. And since Wonwoo hasn’t shown any interest in taking over…we never had a choice. It is what it is, I guess,” he shrugs, standing up slowly. 

“I’m not sure what goes through His Majesty’s head, no one does, I think, but I’d like to look at it from the brighter side. Now that Wonwoo found someone, it’ll be much easier for him to become our king when we come back,” he smiles, so genuinely you don’t even register his words at first. 

But then it hits you. Now that Wonwoo found someone. Your eyes widen when the words ring in your ears but before you can say anything, Chan is on his way out to find the other two. 

Has he found someone who was going to help him take over the throne? Did you manage to run away from your fiancé who was holding you back on your every step just to fall into the same thing all over again, this time, with a demon? You hated just the thought of that. The suffocating feeling of having to deal with that—the limitation, all over again made you sick. 

You looked around the cave, debating if this wasn’t your sign. Everyone was gone, no one would notice if you just left. Maybe you should, maybe you’d be much happier if you ran away again, somewhere where no one knows you and you could do whatever you want. 

The thought crossed your mind, staying there until you shook your head and took a deep breath in an attempt to make it go away. Because as much as you know you’d love the freedom it would get you, you can’t. You don’t have the courage to just leave without a single word. Wonwoo had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing, and for some reason, you didn’t even mind. 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s voice makes you turn around. You raise your eyebrows confusedly, “Hi?” You watch him hesitate and glance behind himself before he speaks again and it makes you even more curious about what he and Wonwoo were doing. “I think we might need your help, he can’t focus,” he says simply, waiting for you to leave with him without saying anything else. 

You follow him out, your eyes widening immediately when you see Wonwoo’s full form, his wings out with his tail slowly swinging in the back. You’ve seen a few demons before but there was something different about him. His wings touched the ground and his horns were suddenly longer than before. Yet, it wasn’t the first thing you noticed. The biggest difference was in his eyes—they had turned dark red. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to see through them, only being met with the same hunger he’s been looking at you with since earlier. 

“What’s–” You barely get to blink before Wonwoo interrupts you with a sigh, saying he can’t clear his head well enough. “Okay but…what are you doing?” 

“Exploring his powers,” Seokmin answers instead, walking around you to grab one of the small rocks on the ground. “Chan,” he says softly, and as if on cue, the blond fires at the stone, breaking it apart with ease. “This is something most of—if not all—demons can do but Wonwoo…” he trails off, picking a bigger rock this time and throwing it at the demon prince. He catches it, lighting it up on fire with ease. The rock doesn’t break in his hands, it just keeps flaming. “This is nothing compared to what he is fully capable of, but it’s still better than a lot of demons can do.” 

“And you acted so immersed when you read through my book,” you scoff slightly, watching as his lips curl up into a smile right after. “It showed me what you were capable of,” he shrugs simply and you shake your head at him. 

“So, let me guess,” you start, walking closer to the demon prince to fix his shirt. “You guys are attempting to do what he did when he was fighting the angels before? That weird state?” Seokmin and Wonwoo blink a few times, confusedly exchanging a look together. “How do you…” 

“Jeonghan,” you explain, softly smiling at the boy in front of you before you take a step back again. “He told me and three other fairies when he came to ask us for protection from the demons. I was curious what it looked like.” 

Chan steps back while Seokmin gets closer to the prince, carefully touching one of Wonwoo’s wings. “They grew a lot after it happened,” he says, pushing his own wings out of his body. “They were as big as mine before we left the kingdom.” Your eyes widen at the difference and you confusedly shoot a glance towards Chan. “That’s not…they’re twice as big now!” 

“And his eyes,” he points, continuing. “You noticed the chance, right?” You nod, carefully examining his body as you look for any other changes. Your eyes stop at his crotch, your cheeks slowly heating up as you begin to wonder if he had grown in other places as well. 

“You’re blushing,” Wonwoo points out and you immediately curse him out in your head. “No, I’m not,” you argue, clearing your throat as you look at the guys before you. “Okay, let’s see then,” you change the conversation immediately before he can have any more comments. “Show me this state you were in and maybe we’ll be able to figure it out together.” 

Wonwoo smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat as you lean your back against the tree behind you, carefully observing him, actually wanting to help out. 

He closes his eyes for a second, his wings twitching as he tries to light them up on fire, just like he tried back then when he fought the angels. You notice his tail swing with full force into the ground, almost as if it was protesting against it. You hum, trying to think of a solution. 

“Guys, can you leave me and Wonwoo alone for a bit?” You ask, causing them all to look your way. You feel all six eyes on you but don’t take your eyes off the prince, barely registering the two guys leaving. “They are gone,” Wonwoo says quietly and you hum again. “What was that for?” 

“I think you need to fire yourself up before you try to fire up something as large as,” your eyes flicker between the end of one of his wings to the other, “that.” 

“I’m doing that, though, no?” He questions and you take a step forward. “Just stay quiet and use your senses, okay?” He frowns but nods nonetheless, his eyes following your every movement as you walk closer to him. “Hearing,” you start, motioning for him to lean down so you could reach him. “Remember my hand on your cock,” you whisper, your breath landing just above his ear. He quickly turns his head to face you, almost embarrassed. “Trust me.” 

Wonwoo can’t quite understand what you’re trying to do or how it’s supposed to help him but he listens, closing his eyes again as his memory travels back to a few hours ago. He can still feel your fingertips on the tip of his cock as you teased him, the coos you whispered into his ear slowly coming back. No matter what you wanted to achieve with this, he couldn’t complain about your methods. 

He groans quietly, opening his eyes again when his dick twitches in his pants. “I’m getting hard again,” he mumbles, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes land on your half naked figure, your breast on full display for him. He swallows, hard. “What are you…” 

“Sight,” you whisper softly, smirking. “Oh, yeah?” There’s a smirk on his face now as well as he slowly realizes what you’re doing and he cups your cheek, leaning down again to place a kiss on your lips. “And what about touch?” He asks and you immediately guide his hands to your breast, letting him squeeze them however he wants. The groan that leaves his lips makes you feel hotter than it should, and you almost lose your mind when he mumbles into your kiss again, “and taste?” 

You pull away from him, hesitating for a second before you slowly trace your fingers under your pants, a moan escaping your lips as you push two of your fingers into your cunt, collecting your wetness on them as you finger yourself, watching his mouth fall open, unable to take his eyes off you. 

“Taste,” you say, bringing your fingers to his mouth. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips wrap around your finger, moaning as he gets the taste of you. You will be the death of him at some point, he was sure of that. “So fucking good,” he mumbles, his saliva dripping on your fingers as you pull them out. 

“You smelled my fingers too, right?” You blink at him innocently and his head spins as he nods, his clothed dick begging for release. “Now, then, close your eyes again.” He listens immediately and for a second you think about how easy it would be to play with him. He trusted you, maybe more than he should after knowing you for so little. 

Your eyes fell down to the bulge in his pants, certain that his body was on fire by now. “Try again. Focus on your wings, on what you want them to do,” you guide him softly, pulling your shirt back on as you start feeling the cold air hit your skin. 

He stands still, it might have been a few seconds, minutes, or even an hour. He wasn’t sure, honestly. But when he opened his eyes again, noticing Seokmin watching him with his eyes widened, he knew he had accomplished what he wanted to. He looks around, almost swinging his wing into you by accident. Thankfully, you manage to dodge it and laugh, your smile proud as he watches his wings—now flaming—in awe. 

“How did you know?” Chan turns his head to you and you shrug. “Jeonghan said senses–” you pause, tilting your head and closing your eyes as you realize what your next move needs to be. You turn to the small lamp hanging on the tree branch that lights up the place for you all to be able to see and then back at Wonwoo. “I know this might seem a bit insane, but I think we should go see Jeonghan in the morning.” 

The guys try to argue with you, telling you how badly that would go, but you brush them off with one shake of your head. “For some reason, he knows about Wonwoo and his powers more than any of us. If we want to figure this out…we need to.” They exchange a glance, knowing you are right. When no one says anything, Wonwoo extinguishes the fire again and hides his wings, his tail following right away with a sigh. “Let’s do it,” he agrees, nodding slightly. “Even if things go left, we have an addition to our team now,” he smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t wait for his friends’ opinion, simply leading you back inside the cave. 

The night is cold to say the least, so it’s no surprise you find yourself cuddled up in Wonwoo’s arms while his two friends lay on the other side of the cave. You were confused why at first, but when Wonwoo sent them one glare that explained everything, you didn’t ask anymore. 

“This is…weird,” you mumble into his chest, his breath landing on the top of your head as his fingers make small circles on your back. You couldn’t remember the last time you laid like this with your fiancé, barely remembering what his touch felt like. It’s been weeks since you had the time for each other—he always blamed it on being either too busy or tired—and even though it felt like the spark between the two of you was disappearing, a part of you felt bad for lying like this with a different man now. 

“Hm?” Wonwoo hummed. “What is?” 

You raise your head slowly to look at him, your eyes softening when you gazed into his. Despite all that, the moment you see his face you can’t help but feel like it’s right. Like you’re exactly where you belong—in his arms. 

“Us,” you whisper, biting the inside of your cheek. “Don’t you think so?” He groans in response, watching you through his eyelashes. “No?” He waits a second, his eyes wandering all over your face, and you blink confusedly, trying to see what he is thinking. “This feels good, actually.” 

“Or do you really think otherwise?” He questions and for a second you think you might see a sign of vulnerability in his eyes. It takes you a second to think about it, but you shake your head in the end. “You know,” he clears his throat, pulling his hands away from you and resting them behind his head as he lays on his back, staring into the darkness. “Chan told me what you talked about before.” 

You don’t answer, so he continues. “I’d like to think I found someone,” he mumbles softly and Chan’s words ring in your ears again. “I don’t know what we are doing here or what it is between us, but it does feel good.” — “But that’s just how I see it,” he looks your way again, swallowing hard as his eyes drop to your lips. “That’s how I felt since you dragged me by my horn to the ground.” 

“That felt good?” You tease him, taking the chance to ease the atmosphere a bit. You aren’t sure if you want to hear what he says next, too scared to go through the same thing you did with Minghao again. “So fucking good,” he admits. You raise your hand to his head, your fingers softly running through his hair and then making their way back to the horn on his head. You wrap your hand around it, your breath shaking when you hear the groan that leaves his lips. 

He rolls over so he is on top of you, a smirk tugging in the corner of his lips. “The guys are just over there,” you say, the words barely above a whisper. “They are asleep,” he shrugs. “Wonwoo.” It’s meant to make him hesitate, realize that you shouldn’t, but instead, he leans down to your ear. “If you want me to stop so much, why are you still pulling at my horn?” 

He smirks when you don’t say anything, your cheeks gaining the color pink. “Maybe I don’t want to,” you mumble, watching as his eyebrows twitch every time you squeeze. It looks like he is trying to hold himself back, biting his bottom lip so no sounds would leave his mouth. “Good, because I don’t want to either,” he says, and before you can add anything else, his lips brush against yours. 

You pull him close, returning his kiss without hesitation. Your legs wrap around his waist, the space between you disappearing. “Can you stay quiet, though?” He asks and you smirk, giving his horn a tight squeeze again. “Can you, baby?” 

The nickname alone sends shivers down Wonwoo’s spine, not to mention the way you begin to pull his clothes off, your eyes needy. He really wants to be in charge, prove himself to you, but he already knows there isn’t a big chance at that when you switch your positions, sitting on top of him instead. 

“You’re quite desperate, don’t you think?” You tease, leaning down to his ear so he can know what it feels like. “First you get a boner just at me mentioning you fucking me and now you’re trying for it again? One might think you’re just a horny teenager.” 

“Or is it the demon genes?” You ask, kissing his neck and slowly moving down to his collarbone. “Do all demons have a high sex drive? Maybe just the royal ones?” 

He moans at your touch, quickly closing his mouth again in an attempt to keep it down. He can’t risk the guys waking up in the middle of this. Not only did he know he’d get teased about it for the rest of his life, but he also wouldn’t let them see you. Your naked body, wrapped with his, was for his eyes only. 

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t get to explore any other demons,” he says, making you chuckle. No matter how hot he is, you find him cute. You grind your hips on top of him, your hands resting on his chest. His eyes follow your every movement, his cock growing harder under you. You smile to yourself as his fingers tug at your shirt, begging for you to get it off. 

He moves quickly, getting rid of all your clothes as soon as possible so he could feel you fully on himself. “Please,” he whispers. You lean down again, catching his lips in yours as your hand wraps around his base, aligning him at your hole. As you slowly sit down on him, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, his hands find your waist, helping you get comfortable. 

Soon after you start moving again, your hands on his chest again for better control. You went slow, wanting to see his reaction. It was painfully obvious what he thought of that when you looked him in the eyes, his whole fighting with himself not to thrust his hips up against you. However, when you don’t speed up even after a while, he squeezes the flesh on your ass and thrusts you down onto him, harsh and fast. You gasp, your mouth falling open as he controls the speed, hitting the right spot. 

“You don’t–ngh–have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says suddenly in between groans, causing you to look down at him. It was a weird thing to say while you bounced on his cock. “What?” Your arms give up at the same moment and you fall onto his chest, glad he took over earlier. “We don’t have to–” he swallows the rest of his sentence as your nails dig into his shoulders, a whine escaping his lips. “Do the whole king and queen thing,” he continues, mumbling quiet curses in between. “I want you to do what you like, fight, sword-train, anything.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s talking about. He is coming back to your previous conversation. Your breath shakes as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, letting him talk. You’re so glad this is the position you’re in right now. You wouldn’t want him to see how watery your eyes get all of a sudden when he shows you he cares. 

“I just want you to be there with me. Us, together,” he thrusts his hips up after each word, sending you over the edge. You clench around him, another moan leaving his lips as he gets closer to his climax. “Al–Alright,” you agree, gasping when his cum fills you up and collapsing fully onto him afterwards. 

He rests his hands on your back, turning around so you’d both lay on your sides. “Alright?” He coos and you nod. He closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips on yours again while also forcing his wings up, covering your bodies with just one of his wings. He’ll worry about the clothes in the morning again. 

You snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his arm when he offers and closing your eyes. You can’t wait to find a river in the morning and wash yourself. 

You ignore the teasing glances from Chan and Seokmin as you leave the cave, Wonwoo right behind you. You have clothes on now, finally, but you can’t say it would have been the same when the two woke up and walked to you and Wonwoo to wake you up as well. Thank god Wonwoo covered you with his wing last night. 

“Wonwoo, are you coming with us?” Chan questions. Wonwoo immediately glances between his friends and you, trying to see what you thought. Going on a hunt for food with his friends or finding a river with you and then watching you shower? He had his preference clear, there was no questioning that. 

“Actually, I think I’m–” 

“Go with them,” you encourage him, chuckling when you see the hurt look on his face. You step closer to him, making him lean down as you go to whisper into his ear. “I know we established that you have a high sex drive last night, but I need to shower alone now to have enough energy for you later.” His breath hitches. You bite back your smile when he quickly turns his head to face you, sending him off with the guys. 

Seokmin wraps his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, saying something about going to take him under his wing. You’re not sure if he means it metaphorically or literally, but you chuckle anyway. You wave them off quickly, telling them to catch something delicious before turning around, setting off into the forest. 

“So,” Chan starts, a smirk on his face. Wonwoo frowns, already worried about what he would say next. “What’s up with you two? I mean, I knew there was something but that much?” 

He sighs, raising an eyebrow at his younger friend, as if to see if he was being serious with his question. “Why don’t you care about yourself more, hm?” Chan rolls his eyes, chanting, “Boring!!” with a laugh. Seokmin chuckles, shaking his head at him. “It’s your fault,” he comments and Wonwoo shifts his attention to him. “How so?” 

“If we didn’t see your buttcheek on full display this morning, he probably wouldn’t have brought it up at all,” Min explains, watching Wonwoo avert his eyes in embarrassment. “I don’t know why on earth you thought it was a good idea to come wake us up anyway,” he mumbles, looking at them again. Seokmin shrugs, unable to give a clear answer to that. 

“No, but seriously,” Chan pipes up again. “Should we be looking forward to, I don’t know, seeing her with you a lot when we get to the kingdom? Are you guys going to…you know, do what we’ve been all waiting for?” 

Wonwoo sighs. The thought of ruling the demons isn’t something he’d call exciting but he knows he has to. He can’t hide for much longer, stay in his room and pretend the throne doesn’t exist. Especially not when everyone seems to be counting on him so much. And, if you’re by his side during all that, maybe it won’t be that bad after all. 

“And he’s smiling,” Seokmin laughs, patting Wonwoo’s back. “If just the mention of being with her makes you this happy, you shouldn’t hesitate.” 

“We’ll take it at our own pace,” he proclaims eventually. “Well, considering you guys slept together after only knowing each other for like, what, two days, I think we can expect the wedding next week,” Chan laughs and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. 

He doesn’t say anything else after that, refusing to respond to his friends’ teases and questions about how the night with you was. The fact it was the best night of his life is something they don’t need to know. 

“How exactly do you want us to get there without running into any fairies or different angels?” Chan questions, leaning forward on the stone in front of him. “Well,” you start and Seokmin takes out his map of Aethera, telling his younger friend to move away so he can set it down. Chan groans but obeys, taking a step back. “You see the Little village? While I was on a mission last month, I stumbled in and that was where I saw Jeonghan for the first time. I’ve heard he’s got a lady there.” 

“So we’re just assuming he’ll be there? What if someone reports us? This isn’t only about us as demons attacking the angels, they probably couldn’t care less if we go visit the Little village or not, but you ran away with Wonwoo,” Chan points out. “For all we know, the fairies might think he kidnapped their future queen and are on a hunt for his head now.” 

“I’ve got a friend there, he’ll let us crash at his house and I’ll ask him to let us know when Jeonghan comes around,” you assure them, looking around to see if they are all still up for it. “Alright then,” Wonwoo nods, leaning on the stone, not caring about covering half of the map with his body. “We have a plan, so let’s not delay any longer.” 

And so, the four of you set off again, cutting the road through the forest to get to your destination as soon as possible. You walk in the back with Wonwoo again, carefully holding onto him every time the road ahead looks just a bit tricky. You didn’t think it was needed at first, but after you almost tripped over a tree root, he insisted. 

“So, this human friend of yours?” He starts and you raise an eyebrow at him confusedly, the twigs on the ground cracking under your feet. “What about him?” You blink and Wonwoo has to fight the urge not to kiss you immediately again. You’re too beautiful for your own good. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “how do you know him? Who…Who is he?” 

You chuckle as you watch Wonwoo nervously awaiting your answer. He is kind of cute when he looks at you like that, with a mixture of jealousy and genuine worry. 

“I met him when we were teens. I tagged along to one of my father’s missions and we ended up needing a place to stay, so his parents offered. He yelled at a bug because he was scared, and when I set the bug on fire, he cried and said he owes me his life,” you laugh at the memory. “It was my first interaction with humans as well and his whole family made me feel really welcome. They never cared about us being fairies, and if they did, they hid it damn well.” 

Wonwoo hums as he listens to you, somehow feeling relieved. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t make it obvious to everyone that you’re not available. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take that long and shortly after four—as Seokmin informed you—you find yourself in the back of the village, listening to the muffled voices nearby. You point to the left, going first as you lead them. It’s been a while but you still remember the exact place of the house. It wasn’t the first time you sneaked in like this. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to just–” Before Seokmin can finish his sentence, you throw a small rock at the back door of the house, catching everyone off guard. “I take it back, it might have been better to just come in like you wanted to at first.” You roll your eyes at his comment and turn around to explain your action, but before you get the chance to do so, you hear footsteps coming closer and immediately turn on your heel again. 

“Firefly?” You smile as you hear the familiar voice behind the door before he can even open them, pointing it’s way. “That’s why I threw that rock,” you explain. “We used to do that when we were younger whenever I needed to escape from, well, life.” The door opens and your eyes land on the tall man. You feel like he might be even bigger than you remember him. 

“What’s with that nickname?” Wonwoo whispers quietly with a frown, making Seokmin laugh as they watch you come closer to the human, pulling him into a hug. “Alright, man, good luck with not setting his face on fire,” Min pats his back, walking towards you to introduce himself. 

Wonwoo quickly catches up, and just as Seokmin offers his hand to say hello, he holds the human’s hand instead. “I’m Wonwoo, nice to meet you,” he says through gritted teeth, barely registering Chan laughing behind him. “Mingyu,” the taller man smiles, quickly glancing at you before shaking his hand. “What are you guys, uhm, doing here?” 

“Min, I need your help,” you practically push Wonwoo out of the way, which only causes another way of laughter from his friends. “Anything,” Mingyu encourages you and Wonwoo immediately frowns. “Can we talk about it inside?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, stepping aside so you and your group could walk through the door. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu starts, his eyes flickering between all of the guys before setting on you again. “You finally ran away from Minghao,” he says as if it was a praise, and it makes you wonder if your relationship has been that bad all along and you just didn’t realize. “After you realized you might like a demon that you imprisoned the day before?” This time, there is a hint of irony in his voice, almost as if he was judging you. You frown, “That’s not important.” 

“Alright, I’m just making sure I got everything,” he raises his hands to prove his innocence and you roll your eyes. “Well, anyway, and now you’re here to, what, track down an angel and force him to help you uncover the prince’s powers?” 

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad,” Chan comments, his words catching in his throat when he sees all of you turn your heads towards him. “We know it’s risky,” Seokmin proclaims, making you all turn to him instead. “But it’s the only option we have, really. And we know it’s a lot to ask, but we’d appreciate it if you could help us.” 

Mingyu smiles, nodding without a moment of hesitation. “I’m in,” he agrees, looking at Wonwoo. “Hopefully, it also means getting the future demon king on my side.” 

Wonwoo glances at you and then back at him, agreeing. “I don’t see a reason not to.” 

“In that case,” Mingyu stands up, opening his arms with a smile. “Make yourself at home.” 

You lay on the couch in the living room later that night, your legs resting on Wonwoo’s lap while Mingyu sits on a chair near Wonwoo. Seokmin and Chan had fallen asleep on the old mattresses Mingyu prepared for them earlier after getting out of the shower, so it was just the three of you now. 

“I’ll talk to Haewon tomorrow and ask how things are going between her and Jeonghan, maybe she’ll know when he’ll be here again.” You hum with a nod, smiling gratefully at your friend. “Thank you again, for everything.” 

“No need,” Mingyu shakes his head, his smile warm, comforting. Wonwoo doesn’t buy it just yet. “I told you you can turn to me whenever you need help,” he assures you before glancing at Wonwoo, chuckling when he sees the warning look. “So, Your Highness,” he mocks, finding pleasure in teasing him. Wonwoo exhales sharply. “You’re the second prince our little firefly took an interest in. I should probably take your title as a red flag after the first one, but something tells me to give you a chance.” 

“Mingyu,” you try to interrupt him, trying to stop him from some unreasonable questionnaire or an argument he might start. It doesn’t move with him the slightest bit though and you sigh. 

“Maybe I should be the one worrying about you instead, though,” Wonwoo hisses. “I mean, why exactly are you calling my lady your little firefly?” Mingyu seems caught off guard when Wonwoo fires back against him, but his smile doesn’t disappear. You, on the other hand, can’t keep your expression when the tone of Wonwoo’s voice reaches your ears. He is jealous. He’s questioning your friend because he is jealous. 

“No need to attack me,” Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I take no interest in your lady, you have my word,” he assures the demon, glancing at you to see your reaction to the situation. There is a blush on your face, one that can’t pass by unnoticed, and your lips are curled up in a smile, your eyes set on the black-haired demon. 

“I think I’ll leave you two up to it then,” he gets up, still smiling. “Good night.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a second before Wonwoo turns his body to face you, staying on the opposite side of the couch. For now, at least. “You’re jealous,” you whisper, grinning. He frowns, shaking his head in disagreement. “Me? Jealous? Over some human boy?” 

“His name is Mingyu.” 

“I know,” he answers through gritted teeth and your grin grows wider as he practically confirms your accusation. 

“It’s fine, Won. It’s hot, actually.” You watch something in his eyes switch, but he still doesn’t admit to his behaviour, telling you he isn’t being jealous. “Yeah? Then what was that? You worry about firefly? It’s a nickname his mom gave me when we were kids.” 

When you explain it, his eyes soften. Oh god, was he being jealous of Mingyu’s mom? He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. Of course it was a nickname his mom gave you. Misoon probably would have done the same if she met you. She would have loved you. 

When the thought runs through his head, something in him breaks. He isn’t sure what it is, but he is certain it’s noticeable because the next thing he knows, you are pulling him into a hug and wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

You don’t ask, you don’t have to. You just give him what you think he might need the most at the moment. “It’s okay,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. You move to sit on his lap, still holding him as he buries his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist as well. “She would have loved you,” he whispers and you sigh, drawing circles on his back with your fingers. “She would have created some stupid nickname for you too.” 

“I’m sure she was an amazing woman,” you whisper, feeling him nod against your neck. “And she raised an awesome boy too,” you proclaim, leaning back to make him look at you. When he does, you cup his cheeks. “You are allowed to miss her and feel sad,” you assure him, pressing your lips on his. The kiss is soft, calming. “Let’s hope Jeonghan comes by tomorrow so we can get this over with as soon as possible and then get you back to the kingdom so you can say your goodbyes in person, yeah?” He nods and kisses you again, holding you close to himself, almost as if he was scared you’ll disappear as well. 

Wonwoo lays you two down on the couch, his arms never leaving you as he rests his head on yours and you snuggle closer to him, falling asleep in his arms shortly after. He holds on for a while longer, listening to the rhythm of your breath and closing his eyes, slowly drifting off. 

The room is loud when you open your eyes again, your friends’ voices mixing in together as they argue over how to have their eggs, and if they should make some for you and Wonwoo as well when they are at it or let you prepare your breakfast on your own. You groan, burying your head in Wonwoo’s chest again in protest. You don’t want to wake up just yet. 

He shifts slightly under you, carefully sitting up and looking around the room. You take a deep breath and sit up as well, trying to get your eyes to focus as you stare at your friends, their eyes on you already. “Good morning,” Chan chuckles, holding up two eggs in his hands. “You guys want some?” 

“Sure,” Wonwoo nods, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah, I’ll take some too,” you answer and the blond turns around again, handing the eggs to Mingyu who is cooking. 

“Did you even get any sleep on that couch?” Seokmin chats, joining you. You hum, “better than the cold ground yesterday.” He smiles, nodding. “Surely it doesn’t have anything on the royal beds the both of you have been sleeping on your entire lives,” he jokes and you frown. Wonwoo seems to catch it because he leans closer to you, his voice low. “I can assure you our beds are better. Probably make less sounds too.” 

You glance at him, biting back your smile. The idea of sleeping with him in his bed doesn’t seem bad at all. 

“Okay, lovebirds,” Mingyu interrupts your conversation after a while, handing you and Wonwoo your breakfasts. “I’m going to go out in a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be back but I’ll definitely talk to Haewon today,” he assures you. “Where are you going?” You wonder, taking a bite of your eggs—they agreed on scrambled in the end. 

“Uhm, just so,” he mumbles, turning around to plate the rest. You raise an eyebrow at the lack of answer he gives you, exchanging a glance with Chan. “Oh? Does this going out include a lady by any chance?” He teases, watching Mingyu’s ears turn red. Your eyes widen, weakly hitting Wonwoo’s knee in excitement. “What? Since when do you have a girl?” You yell immediately. 

“I don’t, I don’t!” He tries to argue but it’s already too late, and before he can think of a way out of the situation, he is cornered with questions from all of you, asking who she is and how long they’ve been together. For a second, Mingyu regrets taking you in yesterday. 

“There has been a slight change in the plan,” Mingyu announces as soon as he walks through the door, making all of you look his way. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing! Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, walking straight to his kitchen corner. “I think I might have made it easier for you to approach Jeonghan actually.” 

“Do tell,” Wonwoo encourages him. “Did you find out when he’ll be here again?” 

“Yes,” he nods, looking at the clock on his wall. “In fact, he’ll be here in like…thirty five minutes,” he proclaims and you blink a few times, as if to find out if it’s just a dream you’re having. “What? How–” 

“Long story short, I ended up inviting them over for dinner because I thought it would be easier than you guys busting into Haewon’s kitchen to ambush him but then I got caught up and lost track of time, so I need your help making this dinner as quickly as possible. Now. That was your cue to get up,” he says impatiently, opening his fridge and taking out a few things. 

It takes you a second to comprehend what is happening but when you do, you jump up from your place on the couch, the three guys beside you following shortly after. “What do we need to do?” 

“Come here, I’ll give everyone a job.” 

You’re not sure how it even works, four grown guys in the kitchen somehow not standing in each other’s way. They move quickly, listening to every word Mingyu says so the food is ready for when the pair arrives. 

As the loud knock on the front door reaches your ears, you flinch. “That’s our sign. Let’s go,” you quickly say, going into Mingyu’s room with the guys to hide. Mingyu needs to set the scene first before Jeonghan sees you. 

“Alright,” Mingyu takes a deep breath, opening the door with a smile. “Hi,” he greets them warmly, pulling Haewon into a hug before shaking the angel’s hand, trying to search for any evil in his eyes. “Come in, I just finished cooking,” he steps aside and the two walk inside, looking around the house. 

“It’s similar to mine,” Haewon comments with a slight nod, smiling. “They weren’t very original while designing these I guess,” Jeonghan says, narrowing his eyes when his eyes set on the number of plates in the sink. “You live alone?” 

“I do,” Mingyu nods. “I mean, technically I do. But you know how it goes, Haewon also technically lives alone,” he jokes, leading them to the table. “Speaking of which, a lot of people are wondering what’s going to happen to you? I mean, should we expect to have an angel in our village full-time?” 

Haewon nervously glances Jeonghan’s way as she sits down, but he only shrugs. “That’s nothing they need to worry about. We are fine as we are.” Mingyu hums but he isn’t sure what to think about it. It’s been years since he first started showing up in the village, wasn’t it about time they tried to figure out something stable? 

“That’s all that matters,” he nods, setting the plates. “What about your lady, though, Gyu?” She asks with a grin. Mingyu chuckles as he sits down, rubbing the back of his neck. “It hasn’t been that long since we started going out but we are doing great,” he says, a hint of a blush on his face. 

As the dinner goes by and the conversation flows more naturally, Mingyu finally finds the courage to ask what he needs. He clears his throat, making both of his guests look up from their plates. “So, I know this might be a little sudden or inappropriate, but to be honest, I invited you here tonight because I need help,” he admits and Haewon tilts her head confusedly. 

Jeonghan scoffs, putting his fork down and giving his full attention to the man opposite him. “Just because I’m an angel, it doesn’t mean I can magically give you whatever you need.” 

“I know that,” Mingyu shakes his head. “But you do have some knowledge, don’t you?” Before the angel can open his mouth again and ask what it is that he wants to ask him, you come out of the room, your footsteps catching their attention immediately. Jeonghan smiles. “We haven’t seen each other in a bit,” he greets you and you return his smile, stepping forward. 

“Do you know your fiancé is looking for you?” You nod. His eyes soften, you think. It might have been a figment of your imagination, but you could swear you saw a slight change in his eyes. “My king was excited when he heard you had captured the demon prince, but also very disappointed when he found out he escaped.” 

“I understand.” 

Jeonghan shakes his head, stopping you before you can continue. “He wants his head now. A way to get back at the demon king. Your finacé has taken on the mission, he is leading his men as they look for him.” You swallow hard. Getting out of here might be harder than you had expected. 

“But I never agreed on anything like that,” he assures you all of a sudden. “So your new boyfriend can come out of the room and ask me what has been bothering him himself, I don’t see any reason to hand him over to my king.” 

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out what his deal is, if he is being sincere. But before you can, the three demons are standing behind you, staring at the angel. “Okay,” you breathe out, stepping aside so Wonwoo can get closer. He takes a seat next to Mingyu at the table while you and the guys stay aside, carefully observing the situation. Haewon, unlike Jeonghan, seems to have no idea what’s going on. 

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he gazes into the angel’s eyes, resting his hands on the table. “How do you know so much about me? About how my powers work?” 

“I don’t,” he shakes his head in disagreement. “I don’t know how your powers work, not really. But I guess you could say I know more than you.” 

“How?” 

Jeonghan chuckles at his impatience, turning to his girlfriend. She sighs, understanding what he wants to say after a simple eye contact. “Don’t be too long, I’ll be waiting.” He nods with a smile, leaning closer to kiss her. “I’ll try to be back as soon as possible,” he assures her and without a moment of hesitation, she says her goodbyes to all of you, saying how she wishes you good luck with whatever you need to deal with before leaving. 

“I used to know your father,” he explains, making Wonwoo frown. “Seokmin said he has never seen my father do anything like this. I mean, lighting my wings on fire? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that.” 

The angel examines Wonwoo’s expression before humming, as if he had figured it all out. “Has your mom ever got the chance to tell you about her first love?” He asks suddenly, making Wonwoo blink confusedly. “No?” 

He hums, glancing at Seokmin and Chan. “You are all too young to know, but there used to be a demon knight that caused a lot of troubles to us angels. He possessed the same powers you do, and we never really figured out how to fight against him.” You frown when he starts his story, cringing at how cliché it sounds. As if there was supposed to appear an animated story in front of your eyes about this mysterious knight that would explain everything. 

“Even though we were on opposite sides, we became friends for a while,” he continues, something in his eyes changing as he remembers the man. “And he told me about the girl he was supposed to marry—the demon princess.” 

“Wait,” Mingyu interrupts him, the picture Jeonghan was painting with his words disappearing as you blink to look his way. “This must have been decades ago, how old are you for fucks sake?” The angel laughs, and you realize Gyu is onto something. There was no way this twenty-something looking angel could have lived through that. 

“I’m twenty eight,” he shrugs casually. “Will be for the rest of my life.” 

“What do you mean?” You furrow your eyebrows. Jeonghan leans back in his chair, looking around the room before answering. “I’ve had an…encounter with a witch once and let’s say it didn’t go that well,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips again. “But it did gain me immortality, even though I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing.” 

“That’s the worst curse of all,” Wonwoo comments, his words barely above a whisper as he carefully glances into the angel’s eyes. He shrugs again, brushing it off. 

“So, this knight?” Chan asks cautiously. “What happened to him? I don’t– I don’t think I’ve heard of a king like that before.” 

“That’s because he never became the king. He never married the girl he loved,” Jeonghan explains, his eyes trailing off to the plate in front of him. “He died before he could, and she had to continue living without him while his descendant grew in her belly.” You catch the small change in the tone of his voice before he can put a smile back on again, sharing his all-knowing glance with you again. 

You know it isn’t that easy for him, though. One dies, the other has to out-live them. Wonwoo was right, immortality is the worst curse of them all. Because no matter how unbothered Jeonghan wants to look, you know the thought of everyone around him dying scares him. There is no way it doesn’t. 

“Okay, what are you implying?” Wonwoo finally asks, the vulnerability in his eyes noticeable from far away. He hesitates, the words catching in his mouth. He glances at you for a brief second, taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the angel opposite him. “Who…was this baby?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer, too scared of what it could all mean. 

Jeonghan stays silent, gazing into the prince’s eyes. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, so he doesn’t. Wonwoo’s breath shakes as he slowly takes the story in. You see his leg bouncing under the table and come closer to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “How did he die?” You ask quietly, squeezing his shoulder tightly. 

“Fratricide,” he admits with a sigh. “The current king was never supposed to rule the kingdom. But I have to give him something, he did well with covering everything up. He married your mother before people found out she was pregnant, so it was easy to say you were his child.” 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo pushes his chair back, barely looking at any of you as he quickly storms out to the backyard, needing some time off. You sigh as you watch his back, glancing at Jeonghan. “Thank you.” 

“I’m not sure if you should,” he shakes his head, his eyes wandering to the back door. “I can’t help you with his powers and I doubt there is anyone who could. He’ll have to figure it out on his own.” You hum, thanking him once more anyway. “One more thing,” Jeonghan starts as he gets up. “Even though I don’t exactly know how his powers work, I know his mother was what helped his father the most. So, just stay by his side and I’m sure he’ll do big things.” 

“And if we are lucky enough, with him in the lead of the demons, the unnecessary rivalry between our kind can be solved,” he smiles one more time, briefly thanking Mingyu for dinner before he leaves the house without another word. 

“Should we…” Chan hesitates, glancing at the back door. Before he can ask his question, you are already shutting the door behind yourself, though. He sighs, looking at the two guys still in the room with him. “We should just clean up then, I guess.” Seokmin nods, helping Mingyu take all the plates and offering to wash the dishes. 

“What is the next plan after this?” Mingyu asks as he hands Seokmin one of the plates. He hesitates, watching the water fill up the sink. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “Do you mind if we stay one more night?” Mingyu smiles and gives him a reassuring nod, saying they are free to stay for as long as they need. “Wonwoo needs some time, but I’m sure once he processes everything, he’ll want to go back to the kingdom more than before.” 

“Are you sure?” Chan asks, doubting him a bit. Wouldn’t it make more sense to avoid the place from now on? 

“Yeah,” he nods. “Now that he knows the truth, he’ll want to dethrone the king more than ever. Take back what belongs to his family.” Chan hums, understanding what he means. 

“Wonwoo,” you call out after him, sighing when you see him sitting on the porch. You carefully sit down next to him, wrapping your hand around his waist as you hold him close. You don’t say anything and neither does he, relaxing in the warm silence. He rests his head down on your shoulder, closing his eyes with a deep exhale. 

“My dad is dead, and I never actually got to know him,” he whispers, his voice breaking in the middle. “I don’t…I don’t remember my mom much, but I don’t have a single memory of her alongside my fath– the demon king,” he corrects himself, almost spitting those words out. You rest your head on his, just listening. “It makes sense now why they were never together.” 

“There was no way you could have known. You heard Jeonghan, he did a great job masking it. Who knows if there is even a single person who knows he isn’t supposed to be on the throne.” Wonwoo hums in response, the sound so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Misoon probably found something. It would explain his…his order to kill her.” Your eyes soften. You don’t think you could understand the pain he’s feeling even if you tried to. 

“And now I know as well, and it’s pissing me off.” 

“Then let’s do what we can do to take it from him,” you proclaim, squeezing his bicep. You slowly raise your head and he follows right after, glancing at you. He leans closer, cupping your cheek as he presses his lips on yours firmly. “Together,” he whispers. You nod, capturing his lips on yours once more. “Together.” 

This time, you spend the night on an actual mattress. After you and Wonwoo came back inside and told everyone your plan, Mingyu offered to lend you his bed, saying something about how you need to sleep well before you set off in the morning. You didn’t argue and ended up wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms in the bed, Seokmin and Chan on the floor beside you. 

And you have to say, Mingyu was right. When you wake up the next morning, you feel a lot more energized. You’re not sure how everything will turn out today, but at least you have enough power to try to fight whatever the demon king throws your way. 

You say your goodbyes to Gyu shortly after breakfast and he promises to introduce you to his new girlfriend the next time you come to visit, not forgetting to mention he hopes that by then, you’ll be the demon queen. You chuckle, squeezing Wonwoo’s hand in yours. You don’t promise him anything, but a part of you hopes for the same thing. 

“How exactly do you want to do this? They are going to notice us if we just walk in,” Chan questions, a step behind everyone else. Seokmin slows down slightly to join him in the back so he wouldn’t have to walk alone, awaiting for Wonwoo’s answer. It’s something he has been trying to figure out as well. 

“Who’s going to notice?” You hum back, a smile on your face. “Didn’t you say the king dismissed the knights, saying they won’t be needed?” Seokmin scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. The king has made it so much easier for them without even knowing what was coming. 

“Okay, we get in, what’s next?” 

You turn on your heel with a smile, making all of them stop in the middle of the road. “Chan, I’ll need you to find the other guys, anyone you can in the shortest amount of time possible,” Wonwoo orders and the blond immediately nods. The demon prince then turns to Seokmin. “Even though the knights got dismissed, I’m sure he still has his personal guards with him so we’ll need to figure out a way to get through them, make sure not even a cleaning lady notices us walking in the hallways.” 

“We don’t have to walk, remember?” Seokmin grins, pushing out his wings. “It’s about time we stop walking all the time,” he says, encouraging them to do the same. Wonwoo chuckles, nodding. 

The next thing you know, Wonwoo holds you tightly around the waist, keeping your body pressed against his as he flies through the sky, his friends right behind him. You fight the urge to scream your lungs out as you look under you, your eyes widening when you realize just how high you are at the moment. 

They are lucky it’s actually faster when you fly because otherwise, you’d beat them up for almost causing you a heart attack with their way of transportation. 

When you step into the underworld, shivers run down your spine. It doesn’t feel like Aethera down here anymore, and you question if you can really live here for the rest of your life. However, when Wonwoo takes your hand in his and leads you through the alley, you know it’ll be okay. 

You look around as you go, your eyes falling on every one of the holes or smudges on the houses caused by fire. You’re not sure if those places caught on fire because of the location or demons but you don’t ask either. You figure there’ll be enough time for that later. 

Chan leaves the three of you alone shortly after reaching the town, running off to the local pub. He wasn’t sure where they were now, but he knows that when they were leaving, most of the knights settled down there to drink off the disappointment that came after the king’s announcement. If he was lucky enough, most of them were there again tonight. 

“Ready?” Wonwoo asks when you reach the back of the castle. You hesitate at first but end up nodding nonetheless. You came here, there was no backing down now. “Ready,” you agree and his hands wrap around you once again. He shares a glance with Seokmin before they both jump off the ground, a yelp leaving your lips as you tightly hold onto the demon prince. 

The window breaks immediately when Wonwoo slams one of his wings against it, quietly groaning when the shattering glass ends up in the same wing. He tries not to pay it any attention, though, focusing on the task at hand. “This way,” he says when his feet hit the ground again, dragging you through the hallway to get to the main hall. 

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he pushes the door of the main hall open, his eyes immediately landing on the king, eating fruits from a plate one of the maids is holding up. You watch the king’s eyes widen as looks at the three of you, quickly glancing at his guards, a sign for them to get ready. 

Before they can take a step forwards, Wonwoo swings his wings forward, causing everyone in front of him to close their eyes as the strong wind combined with the dust from the room hits their faces. “No one moves from now on,” he orders and your eyes soften as you watch the maid tramble in shock. 

“You, right there,” you call out to her, making Wonwoo glance at you confusedly. He quickly turns his attention back to the king, though, trusting your judgement. “Come here.” She looks at the king, her head falling down when she notices the dead stare he gives her. She shakes her head slightly, obviously scared. You’re not sure if it’s of you or the king himself. “It’s okay,” you assure her, and after a moment of hesitation, she finally walks over to you. You give her a reassuring nod before you create one of your fire ropes, tying her up. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly. “But it’ll be safer on this side, I just can’t leave you free.” She nods, still shaking. 

You come back to the two demons, tilting your head as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re in advantage right now, you think, but you’d still feel a lot better if Chan and the knights were here as well. 

“What is going on here?” The king questions, waiting, observing before his next move. Wonwoo tilts his head, smiling. “Ambush, attack, an argument, call it whatever you want, dad,” the word feels poisonous on his lips, something he wasn’t supposed to eat but did anyway. “Or wait,” his smile falls, the disgust in his voice obvious. “Actually, I should call you uncle, shouldn’t I?” 

His eyes widen but he doesn’t move. Not yet. “What are you talking about?” 

You scoff at the sudden lack of confidence in his voice, your eyes landing on one of the guards who has been staring at you. You frown. “Can we move quicker?” 

“Alright,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “This can go either one way or another. We know you killed my father, who also happens to be your older brother, so there is no need to pretend otherwise. Don’t worry, the rest of the demons you led in a lie this whole time will know soon as well,” he assures him and you can see the way the king’s jaw tenses. “What do you want?” He asks through gritted teeth. 

The prince smiles, chuckling. “What you hoped I’d never ask for. The throne.” When he doesn’t answer immediately, Wonwoo continues. “I’m the sole legal heir and I even have my queen alongside me now, there is no reason for me not to take over. So, either we’ll do this nicely, you’ll leave without a word and I will never hear of you again or…” he trails off for dramatic effect, and as if on cue, the door swings open again. 

“Or we will join your little party,” Chan’s voice echoes through the room, creating a grin on your face. You glance behind you, exchanging a proud glance with Chan when you see all the knights behind him, ready to fight. A few of them look unstable, almost drunk you’d say, but that’s not important right now. You just need the numbers. 

The king grits his teeth and his eyebrows furrow as he thinks everything through, trying to figure out what to do next. “And if I fight back?” He signs for his guards to move, but before they can take a step forward, Wonwoo swings his wings once more. You hold his hand tightly, giving him the strength he needs so he can ignite them again. The king’s eyes widen when he sees what the prince can do, swallowing nervously. 

“If you want to fight back, we can do that,” Wonwoo proclaims calmly, stepping forward. “But we both know why my father was in the front lines while they never let you into a battle. Good thing it seems like I take a lot after him.” 

“You take after him too much,” the king mutters, his fingers digging into his palm as he hits the armrest. “You’re not suited for ruling the kingdom, neither was your father! I only ever did what was the best for the demons.” 

The grip Wonwoo has on your hand tightens. You squeeze back, assuring him it will all work out. “That will be for the people to decide, not you. Your time here is done. I’m taking the throne back.” 

“You can’t force me–” Before he can finish his sentence, you fire his way, the smoke in his face occupying him enough for Wonwoo to create a fire rope, a stronger one than you could ever achieve. You smile at him proudly, sending another flame at the king so the prince would have enough time to tie him up. “You can’t just force me out!” He argues, trying to fight against the ropes around him. He fails badly. 

“I gave you the opportunity to disappear. Now, though,” Wonwoo trails off with a sigh, as if he actually cared about what was going to happen to the king. “You give me no choice. I need to live in order to take care of the demons, and the angels want a head thanks to your actions.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” Seokmin says, patting Wonwoo’s back slightly and taking the king from him with a reassuring nod. “You’ve done enough and have a lot of work to do here.” The prince smiles at his friend, mumbling a quiet thank you before he turns to face you. “You can untie the poor lady, I think we are done here.” You nod without any questions, squeezing his hand again. “Am I right, guys?” He turns to the king’s guards and they agree without a moment of hesitation, their Adam’s apples bobbing as they swallow. “Yes, yes, of course, sir. We are at your service.” 

“Great,” he smiles. “Gather all the demons then, I need to have a speech.” 

Chan and Seokmin laugh as they pat their friend’s back, congratulating on his change of title. You shake your head at them but can’t hide your proud smile. 

“Your Majesty, you were quite impressive up there,” you tease when you are finally alone, following him as he leads you through the castle hallways, showing you around. “So were you, my queen,” Wonwoo smiles back, leaning closer to capture your lips in his. It’s gentle, soothing. There’s nothing more than you could want at the moment. 

Well, maybe except for one thing. 

You kiss him back, pressing your lips against his harsher, with more need. His eyes widen in surprise but he quickly closes them again and cups your cheek, bringing you closer. “How about you show me those beds you were speaking so highly of before?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, holding onto your hand tightly as he pulls you forward, finding his bedroom in the mix of the doors. 

Just as the door closes behind you, before you can get the chance to look around, he pushes your body onto the door, his kiss hungry. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms around his neck. His hand slides up and down on your thigh, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as his kisses move lower, down to your collarbone. 

“Your Majesty,” you breathe out, sending shivers down his spine. You place your hand on his chest and push him away with ease, the grin on his face never disappearing as he backs to his bed until his legs hit the frame. He sits down, his eyes wandering from your face to your body. “You should celebrate your first day as the king.” 

“Oh, believe me, I have plans,” he holds your hand, pulling you closer. He positions you between his legs, tightly holding onto your waist as he looks up at you. You scoff at the sight, running your fingers through his hair. He looks almost desperate. Yeah, you could imagine looking at him like this for the rest of your life. 

“Mhm?” You hum with a smile as he presses a kiss on your lower belly. “Are you sure? Because I have my own plans.” 

“Yeah?” He questions, his kisses going lower. He doesn’t look at you again, entirely focused on your thigh now. “Tell me about them.” You smirk, your hands wrapping around both of his horns and pulling on them, causing him to raise his head as he whines. “They involve this pretty demon and his really nice cock.” 

He swallows, his breath hitching as he gazes into your eyes. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he mumbles, twitching slightly under your touch. “How about I ride you insane instead?” You suggest and you can see his mind short circuit under you. You chuckle, pushing him down onto his back. He moves up on the bed so his legs aren’t hanging out of the frame while you sit on his lap, leaning closer to him again. “All of you, in your real form,” you whisper, the hot breath on his ear making him shake. 

“You want to…” 

“Everything,” you nod, your hands sliding under him. He prompts himself up on his elbows, watching you curiously. You roam his back until your fingers find the scars from his wings. “Are you sure?” He asks quietly, his words barely above a whisper. “So sure,” you assure him, sitting back up again. His eyes wander all over your figure, trying to see what you wanted to achieve with this. 

Still, he listens, pushing out both his wings and his tail. He shifts uncomfortably at first but gets used to it soon after when you kiss him again. He wraps his hands around your waist, holding you. When you pull away, there’s a smirk on your face. He narrows his eyes as if to see through you, trying to figure out if he should be excited or scared. 

“I want to try something,” you say and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good,” you smile, your hand softly brushing over his clothed boner. He groans, his hips instinctively thrusting up. “What do you think?” You coo, kissing his cheek. “Do you want to taste me?” 

There’s nothing he could protest about. You, on top of him, asking him if he wants to taste you? He’d be a fool to refuse something like that. And so, he lets you do whatever you want, not saying anything as you make a pair of your fire ropes and use it to tie his hands to the bed. He stays silent even when you take off your clothes, his eyes glued to your body. He wasn’t in hell anymore. No matter how he looked at it, this was heaven. 

“Come here,” he whines impatiently, making you chuckle. You move up, carefully positioning yourself on top of his face, sitting down when he gives you a nod. Your eyes roll back almost immediately, his tongue sliding between your folds and sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it. You grab onto the bed frame at first, grinding your hips on top of him. However, as his whines reach your ears, you get a better idea. 

You look down at him, moaning just at the sight. You let go of the bed and hold onto his horns instead, the loud moan that leaves his lips after a pure pleasure to your ears. You continue riding his face while occasionally squeezing or pulling at his horns, driving him just a bit more crazy each time. 

“Fuck–shit, Wonwoo,” your movements slow down as you get closer to your climax. He has to fight everything in him not to break the stupid ropes apart and force you onto his face harsher so he could drive you over the edge when he notices how you shake, resisting the urge by chasing after your clit instead. “So good,” he praises, moaning as his cock twitches in his pants. “Taste so fucking good, baby.” 

Your breath grows heavier as you finish on his tongue, moving back to sit on his chest instead as you try to catch your breath. When your eyes fall to his face, he is smirking. You feel your heart skip a beat as he licks his lips, shaking his hands impatiently. “Come on, baby, untie me now.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “I don’t think so,” you whisper into his ear, pulling on his horns again, enjoying the way his brows twitch and he closes his eyes. He moves his hands again, with more force this time. Still, he doesn’t actually try to get out of the ropes. 

Wonwoo groans as he watches you, throwing his head back as soon as you collect yourself and start exploring his body. It starts with his horns, watching to see his reaction every time you touch them, then you slowly move across his face to his chest, tracing his bare skin under his shirt. His eyes widen again when you move to touch his wings, the feeling of your cold fingertips sending shivers through his body. 

You pull down his pants next, scoffing at how messy his underwear is by now, his precum leaking through the fabric. You grab his tail, gently moving your hand over it until you get to the end and pull, making him gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” you tease him, watching his dick twitch. “What are we going to do about this?” You coo softly, brushing your hand over his crotch. 

“Baby, please,” he whines, thrusting his hips up against the air. You shake your head, pulling down his underwear with ease. He breathes out in relief when you free his cock, watching as you wrap your hand around the base. “I said I’ll ride you insane, didn’t I?” You ask innocently, aligning yourself above his cock as you slowly sit down, a whine escaping your lips. 

Wonwoo watches you move on his cock, your mouth wide open as he thrusts his hips into you as fast as he can, almost as if it was revenge for teasing him before. You try to slow down, pull out or anything, but every time you’re only met with a harsher trust, full of need. “Wa-Wait, let me,” you say in between moans, his lips turning up into a smirk. “After you untie me,” he says, thrusting into you after each word. 

You gasp, shaking your head in protest. “N-No,” you disagree, quickly finding his tail and pulling on it to get the upper hand again. He groans, grabbing the ropes around his hands and pulling on them fiercely. You grin again when his thrusts turn sloppy and he glances at you. “Please,” he begs and your head goes blank for a second. “Want to touch you, feel you.” 

Your eyes roll back at his words, bouncing on his cock slowly again. You sigh as you gaze into his eyes, leaning down and pressing your lips on his. “Okay,” you whisper, and without another second of hesitation, he tears the rope apart, freeing his hands on his own. He holds your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he helps you move up and down, his lips never leaving yours. 

The room is shortly after filled with the mixture of your and his moans, the smell of your sweaty bodies filling the air. You don’t care at all, ignoring the sweat on your forehead as his cock slides in and out of you. You kiss his collarbone, muffling your whines against his skin as you leave love bites all over his neck, marking him yours. 

“I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence as you speed your movements, driving him over the edge. Your mouth falls open as he fills you up, slipping his cock out after a few more trusts. You fall right beside him on the bed, trying to catch your breath as you feel his cum running down your body. He prompts himself up on his elbows quickly, pushing his wings back into his body so there is enough space. He turns to you, cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss. 

You smile, kissing him back without hesitation. He gazes into your eyes, giving you one of his grins. The same grin you’re slowly falling in love with. He presses his forehead on yours, breathing heavily. “This was great,” he mumbles and you hum in response with a smile. “Can’t wait to repeat it,” you chuckle, kissing him again. 

Just as he turns you so you would be under him and places wet kisses on your neck, a sharp knock on the door interrupts him. “Your Majesty, are you in there?” He closes his eyes in protest, acting as if staying silent could help him avoid whoever was outside the door. “We need to discuss a few things regarding your duties. We should also talk about what we’re going to do with the knights, sir.” 

Wonwoo groans when the voice doesn’t leave, plopping back down on the bed beside you. You laugh at him, encouraging him to get up. He tries to argue, but the man behind the door only insists more and he is left with no other choice. He’ll just have to enjoy you again later. 

10 years later 

The laughter of your husband mixed with your daughter’s fills your ears and you watch them run around the forest while you walk behind. You know you could have taken the carriage or fly, but there was something nostalgic about walking through here. 

“She has him wrapped around her little finger,” Chan beside you laughs, watching the scene ahead. You chuckle, glancing at him and his wife. “If your son didn’t have a lesson with Seokmin today, you would be out there running with them, “ you point out and he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t argue, though. 

“Mom! Are we almost there?” Your daughter runs to you, leaving Wonwoo forgotten. He scoffs in disbelief as he watches the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest. You shake your head at him, picking up the little devil. Literally. 

“You see those houses ahead?” You point and her eyes follow your finger. “It’s right there,” you smile. She nods, resting her head on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to dad so he can carry you, yeah?” She shakes her head in disagreement, making you chuckle. “How about uncle Chan then?” You suggest, watching as she raises her head to look at the blond beside you. She thinks for a second and then nods. 

“Alright, come here, princess,” he takes her from you and you walk to Wonwoo, wrapping your arm around his. “She can’t honestly prefer him over me, right?” He asks, hurt. You laugh at him, shaking your head. “She’s a kid. You’re going to bore her from time to time. Let her play with Chan and Jisoo for now, it’s no big deal.” 

And so, for the rest of the walk, your daughter stays with the two while you lead the way to the Little Village, a smile spreading across your face immediately when you get closer. It’s been years since you’ve been here. 

“Ara! Be careful!” Wonwoo calls after your daughter as she jumps off Chan’s arms and runs around the moment you reach the center, examining every corner she can. He sighs and you shake your head slightly. “I’ll go find Mingyu and you look after her,” you proclaim, kissing your husband’s cheek. However, before you can turn around and do as you said, a strong voice interrupts you. “There’ll be no need for that, firefly.” 

Your smile grows wider as you land your eyes on the tall man, pulling him into a hug immediately. It’s only when you pull away that you notice the little human hiding behind his leg, crouching down to be at the same height. “And who might this be?” 

“You have a son?” Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he comes closer to greet the man as well. “For six years now,” Mingyu nods with a small laugh, looking down at him. “Siwoo, it’s okay. Those are my friends.” He carefully steps forward, watching you and Wonwoo. “What are you doing here?” He asks, glancing back at Wonwoo. 

“We came to visit,” you shrug, calling after Ara to come join you. “You still have to show me the mother of your son, remember?” 

Mingyu chuckles, nodding. “Come join us for lunch then,” he offers and without a second thought, you agree. 

His house is still the same it was years ago, except for a few new toys lying around and his son’s clothes everywhere on the couch. You have to smile. “I’ve heard a lot about all of you,” Mingyu’s wife introduces herself, tugging her brown hair behind her ears. You shake her hand immediately, saying how lovely it is to finally meet her. Who would have thought it’d take you ten whole years to come back here? 

After Mingyu quickly cleans up all of the mess in the living room, you all gather on the couch, leaving your kids to play on their own in Siwoo’s room. Ara was quick to befriend him, showing off her powers to him. He was scared at first, hiding behind the table, but when she made a fire snowflake in her hand, he peaked out again, curious. 

“So, the demon queen,” Mingyu starts, leaning back in his chair as he watches you proudly. “And a famous knight,” he adds, creating a smile on your face. “You heard?” 

“Jeonghan seems to know a lot of things,” he shrugs casually. His eyes flicker from Wonwoo back to you, smiling warmly. “I’m glad you got to be everything at once like you wanted.” 

You feel your eyes water at his words, the memories of the past ten years running through your mind. You did do everything you wanted. You managed to balance people’s expectations with what you always dreamed of and made the best of it. It couldn’t have been any better. 

“Hadn’t it been for her, the kingdom would be a mess,” Jisoo nods. You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment as praises start to leave your friends’ lips, extolling you as if you were some sort of goddess. “It’s nothing like that,” you quickly shake your head. “Oh, no, she’s right, it’s not,” Wonwoo agrees, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “It’s so much better.” 

And so, you chat throughout the whole afternoon with your old friends, talking about everything that comes to mind at the moment. You mention how much Ara takes after her father, and Wonwoo adds that she has your eyes. Chan talks about his son as well, ranting about how he and Seokmin’s son never leave each other’s side, bothering all of you with their crazy ideas. 

Mingyu also tells you about his son, daydreaming about his wife while she sits right beside him, and you have to smile. You know he’s found a great woman just when you look at them. You also find out Jeonghan had finally moved into the village as well, even though he often leaves to visit heaven still, staying civil with the rest of the angels. 

It feels good to know everyone is doing well. 

You rest your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, nodding as you listen. He smiles, pressing a kiss on the top of your head before he focuses on Chan’s old story about how he and Jisoo met again. When he finishes, Wonwoo can’t help but tell the story of how the two of you met, calling it the best day of his life. 

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @liaatiny @cherrylovescheol @bamgeutsz @codeinebelle @luvsicktyun @xylatox @usuallyunlikelyfox @zi-vian @brrytears @stormy1408 @dontwannacry04 @soobabby @nshmrarki ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[yuzukult]

drafts: i've been a little lost lately || jww & reader

drafts: unfinished works by yuzukult. please do not steal or try to recreate. draft title: i've been a little lost lately pairing: jeon wonwoo & reader genre: angst word count: 2.2k warnings: break up!au, second chances!au a/n: weee another draft, i hope you guys like it lol

Laying in your bed, you suspect it’s been forty minutes since you’ve actually woken up. The ceiling is painted white—blank, bleak, and plain, just like how your life has been feeling lately. Even with the sun shining through the sheer curtains, a warm glow hitting the pale walls, it remains dull. How many days has it been? Weeks? Months? Years? Truthfully, it’s not a question, rather you used to count the days since the break-up, but you’ve already stopped lying to yourself that he’ll come back. You’ve stopped enumerating the amount of time by now.

But mornings like these, the ones where there isn’t an agenda other than to just waste the day away, you miss him. You miss tossing in the bedsheets, turning to meet your gaze with his; soft brown eyes that resembled the burning wood in a campfire, pools of hot chocolate in cups during the winter with a marshmallow in each serving, and the walnuts he’d attempt to fling into your mouth from across the couch before the two of you would laugh breathlessly when he would miss and hit another part of your face. His hair would always be messy; stray strands poking up analogous to antennes, and you’d poke fun, asking if he was receiving any signal from the satellite from above. There was the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that filled the room, the sizzle of the eggs that hit the heated pan on the stove, and the smile that beamed so brightly sitting in front of you at the kitchen table seemed to be a lost piece of your life, one you don’t think you’d ever get the chance of seeing again.

Not all loves last, you learn wistfully, and remembering the day he shut the door of your apartment behind him with his duffle bag in hand and a backpack that sat atop his shoulders, it’s a reminder that he’s really gone. There’s no big, flamboyant gesture that you could do to bring him back, and if you really wanted to, a portion of you knows that this is what he wishes for. To be apart. You respect him too much to put him in another uncomfortable position by asking if he could stay.

Glancing over at your phone screen, you groan. 12:31PM. 

You’ve been laying here for what feels like forever, but the forty minutes that you assumed is a measly five.

The smell of breakfast and coffee, the loud clutters from the pans under the cabinets that used to come from outside your bedroom, and the exchanged delicate kisses during these mornings weren’t there anymore, and they haven’t been for two years now.

So why the fuck are you still thinking about them?

Rubbing your face tiredly, you force yourself to sit up on your bed. He’s not here, and he hasn’t been here in a while, and the fact that the memories still haunt your thoughts like a bad dream is frustrating. Why would he still infiltrate your head like he belongs there, like he deserves to be there, when he hasn’t been here physically in two years? He’s like a plague you can’t seem to cure yourself from, and even if you did, remnants of him prevail. You’d think you’d have the antibodies or something and your system could get rid of him before it takes over.

Maybe you’ll catch up on laundry, possibly do something today instead of nothing so that your head could be too busy to think of anything else. Toothbrush in hand and staring at yourself through the mirror, you’ve caught yourself once again pondering why he would pop in your head again when you’ve been doing so well lately. Shaking yourself from these thoughts, you went on with your morning routine. Brush, facewash, and skincare. 

The thought of coffee crosses your mind again, this time, you’re contemplating if you’re favoring ordering delivery or opting to make a cup for yourself.

Unlocking your phone, you skim through the pages of your homescreen before your finger hovers the Instagram icon. Purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow, who knew a square with a plethora of colors could weigh so heavy on your heart. Barely a month ago, you scrolled through the app casually before that familiar username pops up, one that used to sit in your direct messages almost daily, now hidden deep in your history. He posts a picture that seems like forever ago since he last did, the image of him with the silhouette of a pretty girl is on your feed and you could almost hear your heart audibly crack.

You’ve moved on. So why were you still aching?

Before you could decide on ordering or making coffee yourself, there’s a knock at the door.

And in all fairness, you weren’t sure of what you were expecting. You should’ve checked the peep hole in the door, or even taken a glance at the monitor that shows who’s outside in the hall—but oddly something in you is out of order today and when the door opens to expose who it is standing by the threshold of your apartment, you freeze.

If this is what it feels like for your heart to drop to your ass, then you’ve just experienced it.

There he is. Jeon Wonwoo in the flesh, in the halls of your apartment complex with an oversized beige jacket and two cups of coffee placed in a pulp fiber drink carrier.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft and barely a whisper. The expression on his face is pained, like he’s just been through a heartbreak. Why was he here?

“Uh, hi?” Rubbing your nape, you’re left confused and speechless. Do you invite him in? Do you yell and scream because he left you that night, without a real explanation on why he decided to go? Or do you leap into his arms and tell him how much you’ve missed him, and how even when you’ve moved on and found others to love, your heart still came back to him. “What… What can I do for you?”

Wonwoo inhales a deep breath, lifting up the carrier in his hands. “I… I brought us coffee to talk, if you’re willing to invite me in.”

You roll your lips. “What are you actually doing here, Wonwoo? We broke up. I’m sure you remember that.”

“I got lost,” he admits abruptly, like it was the words that got caught in his throat all these years, as if it’s what he wanted to tell you all along. “I got lost, and I thought that what we had wasn’t supposed to be the end. I saw what it was like being with other people and I—I fucked up. It was a mistake.”

You don’t know what to say. This was something the old you wished for, dreamed for, even, but the person presently here doesn’t know what she wants. “Um,” you begin, clearing your throat. “What’s in that cup?”

“My apologies,” Wonwoo answers humorously, but it’s only a front. “Hot matcha latte with two shots of espresso. Just as you liked years ago.”

He went through the efforts to get the right drink for you. Maybe you’ll give him a chance to explain himself. “Twenty minutes—tops,” you clarify before stepping aside for him to enter.

Your apartment is in the same location, but the interior is different. He takes note that you’ve moved your desk to face the window, for sunlight he assumes, and you’ve shifted your couch over to make room for it. Your dishes used to sit out at the table, he remembered correctly, but you’ve overcome the habit and your sink is empty, plates cleared, and placed where they belong on the shelf. 

“Quick. Timer is starting.”

You’re quick to snag the drink from him, and a soft smile tugs on his mouth. He missed you, and even if he doesn’t outright say it, he feels it in his core. “I got engaged.”

You nearly spat out your matcha. “You what?”

Wonwoo nods, fingers tapping against the granite countertops of your island, swallowing all his nerves so he could fully explain himself. “I was seeing someone and… it got serious. So I did what seemed best at the time, and I proposed.”

“She looked nice,” you say, drawing imaginary shapes on the outside of your cup to calm yourself. Hatred buzzed through you, not the two shots of espresso, but you weren’t going to show it. You assumed it was his girlfriend that he proposed to, and to be fair, she seemed lovely—how could you blame him? “And she was pretty too.”

“She was great,” Wonwoo admits, and you wonder why he came in the first place. “Kind, charming, sweet—she was the whole packaged deal.”

Remaining silent, you figured it wasn’t time to start a fight. As tempting as it was, you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

“But she wasn’t you.”

You weren’t expecting that. 

“So I left,” he sighs, his jaw tensing at the memories. “I told her how I truly felt and walked out.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you do what you know best.”

It stings.

For him, his weakest spot has always been you. You were the one that made his heart skip a beat the first time, the one who made him feel whole as a person without making it feel like he needed you to fill it. You taught him to love himself, to accept who he was because he got to see himself through your eyes.

And he let that go. He fucked up and let go of the one person that helped him grow and be better as a person. For himself, for your relationship… for you.

But he abandoned you. Now he’s here and begging for forgiveness.

So when you say those words, they sting and burn like alcohol poured on to an open wound, but he’d stand there and take it because deserves it from you. 

“I—I know what I did, and I don’t know how to make it better.”

“Go marry her and be happy.” 

Now he wasn’t expecting that.

With furrowed brows, he switches the weight on his one leg to the other. You don’t mean that, do you? “What? You want me to marry her?”

“Yeah,” you reply, fists at your side clenched. “I want you to be married and happy, not still thinking about a ‘what if,’ with me. Wonwoo, as much as I wished it was me, I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her to deal with what I did, watching the love of your life walk out on you and never come back.”

“But I came back.”

“And you’ll go back to her. I also have too much self respect to just let you waltz into my life like you didn’t just throw away four years into the trash for you to get engaged and come back.”

He’s silent.

Your response catches him dumbfounded, but everything with you leaves him on the edge of his seat. It’s why your relationship had always been an excitement—the spontaneous road-trips, the surprises you’d give on random days to show your love, and the subtle things you’d do for him just because—with you, even when you’re just lounging on the couch with nothing to do for the day, he could never be bored.

“I’m not going back to her,” Wonwoo states, firmly this time.

“And why’s that? Because you got lost for a second?” You snap, and it feels like it was a slap to the face.

“Because I don’t love her.”

Scoffing, you place your drink into the counter. “So now what? You love me instead?”

“No,” he heaves out a heavy sigh, because he knows that you’ve put up a wall to protect yourself. It’d be hard for you to allow him through to you again, but he knows it’s worth it. “I’ve always loved you.”

Your heart swells. But of course it does, this is Jeon Wonwoo you were talking about here. With just one look, he makes people weak in the knees, heart stuttering in its beat, and steals the breath from their lungs. He’s a walking dream, and you’d be crazy to turn him down—and you didn't, but that was before. Things are different now. You’ve already given him the chance, and he took advantage of that.

“That’s great, Wonwoo, I’m happy that you realized that. But I don’t know what you want me to do—open my arms and let you leap back into them? Not really a Disney movie we’re living in here. This is reality.”

“I get it, in reality, there aren’t always second chances.”

You quirk a brow. “Well, if you get it, then why are you still here?”

“Because you’re a realist, and sometimes so am I. But I met a hopeless romantic, and he told me that if I still love you, I should still try.” 

There’s a pregnant pause. “Here I am, trying.”

In all honesty, Wonwoo knows you. He knows what comes with coming back to ask you for a second chance. It’s always been easy to love you, the difficult part was convincing you to admit you still love him back. You’ve been known to be stubborn, hard headedness being the bane of his existence because you’ll never cave in that easily.

But what you also knew and previously loved was his persistence.

He’d never leave unless you let him at least try winning you back.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, it’s the first time Wonwoo wins an argument against you. It doesn’t require much effort this time, he takes note, and he likes to think you’ve changed for the better since he last saw you.

[seokminfilm]

seventeen as my memorable school experiences

♫ pairing, seventeen x reader ♫ warnings, fluff, unserious/crack, non-idol au, very short, headcanons, debut/high school age seventeen, cliches, cursing, kind of dramatic, my personal stories

♫ author's note, hi everyone 😞 school and deadlines have been driving me insane so i'll be semi-active until further notice 🧍 ANYWAYS wanted something fun (slightly unserious) and quick, so i thought of this idea! these are all in good fun so don't worry 🤍 without further ado enjoy these headcanons (and tell me if you like them/want more of this format!)

seungcheol would definitely be the type of guy to hold the littlest things over you 😭 definitely one to pull the "I'm older than you" or "I'm stronger than you" card in literally every situation 🧍 you know the kid that was like "i'm so fast i can run here and back in three seconds"? seungcheol would be the one doing that, and trip over something and face-plant 💀 i would not take him seriously let me tell you that

jeonghan teacher's pet 100 percent LMAO definitely the type of person to tell on someone when they're not doing something they "should" be doing. has to be the teacher's helper, passing out papers and running errands for them. jeonghan would be the sly one that is actually one of the most unruly ass students but gets away because he sucks up to the teacher 😭

joshua he'd be the popular transfer student that everyone would be focused on for like a week. he's the talk of the school okay 😭 has that generic 2010 gelled/swooped to the side hair with a button-up for sureee joshua is the kid who's really polite and sweet and has the teacher singing his praises, but when he gets around the right people, he cannot be stopped

jun jun's the really quiet one you forget even exists sometimes 😭 your teacher is taking attendance and says "who are we missing" and you say someone jun, while everyone else is yelling another person 🧍like no jun's sitting right behind you, he's just really quiet. (part two of getting around the right people and being loud)

hoshi hoshi is that one kid that cannot be embarrassed by himself. he will do the most cringy things known to mankind, and still be able to walk away normally after it 💀 does not care about what he likes (definitely an anime kid i feel it in my soul), and makes references that no one gets. people are scared to have to be his class partner let me tell you 🧍

wonwoo not be overused or anything but i seriously do see wonwoo as a gamer boy 💀 my childhood best friend (who goes to school w me & is in my class) is an absolute dork when it comes to video games. wonwoo would be the person to bring a sketchbook skilled fo video game characters 🧍 would also be the person to listen to video game osts while doing homework/assignments

woozi part two of "the really quiet kid you forget even exists sometimes" LMAO woozi is definitely to be the one in the back of the classroom minding his business, doing his work, or sleeping. woozi can be funny, but just doesn't feel like trying 🤷 has great timing with the things he says and makes the whole class laugh

the8 did (or do) you know that one kid that would correct your grammar or pronounciation without your consent? the8 would SO be that kid omg 😭 lord forbid you stutter around him cause he'll go straight to mocking you for it. the8 would be such a stickler w that i fear (i can just imagine you having him read something you've written and there he is correcting your run-on sentences 💀)

mingyu there's this one kid i see walking around in the hallways of my school with a mop of curly hair shielding his eyes 🧍 that just screams mingyu to me LMAO idk he tries so hard to be cool and hip but it just doesn't work 😭 considered one of the more popular people of the class, even if it's just because he's "mysterious".

dk he's definitely the type of person to make you come undone with an "are you okay?" or bunches of compliments CHANGE MY MIND i have a friend who's so good at coaxing feelings & tears out of me w a simple "hey, are you okay?", and i feel like dk would be the same way 😭 gives you a hug every day when you're leaving, and texts you on school holidays/breaks because he "misses human interaction" ("i miss you so bad ☹" "seokmin it's been 2 hours since i last saw you")

seungkwan theatre kid or choir kid 🤷 also probably has his mom working as a teacher so has those privileges to where he can visit his mom's class and participate in a bunch of things since his mom is already at the school 🧍probably also a generic popular girl too LMAO hears things from other people and spreads it professionally (probably to the8: if you see them two conversing and looking at you, 9/10 you're being secretly roasted)

vernon debut vernon to me screams "random boy every girl in your grade liked with a windshield wiper laugh and thick, brown wavy hair" 🤷 had this one boy in 3rd grade that EVERY SINGULAR GIRL THOUGHT WAS CUTE. also probably says cringe things (ex: dude, bro, fire, lit, sike, etc) unironically because he has an image to uphold or something. please don't make him laugh really hard (you'll hear this squeaky grating sound that makes you want to stuff your head in your backpack)

dino dino is the popular boy by association 😭 he's not really popular on his own, but when with vernon/mingyu suddenly multiplies in popularity. he's actually a really chill, down-to-earth dude LMAO lord forbid he makes a terrible joke though 💀 he'll be so embarrassed he'll shut down and never come back. would friends with vernon and probably practices the windshield wiper laugh in his bathroom at home 🧍

a/n: lowkey very cliche and personal but still fun/comforting to write (speaking with experiencing most of these things firsthand LMAOAOOA!! tell me what you think about it LMAO

[scoupsakakitty]

Hii, I see that your req is open :). Can I request for seventeen 14th member that got into car accident and the other member's reaction?

Signed with Worry | Seventeen x 14thMember | angst, fluff

tw: car accident, hospital

Seungcheol’s phone buzzed on the table, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Frowning, he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Choi Seungcheol?”

The serious tone of the woman’s voice immediately put him on edge. “Yes, who’s this?”

“This is Nurse Kim from Seoul General Hospital.”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Seoul General? Why—what happened? Is someone hurt?”

There was a brief pause before she responded, voice calm but firm. “I’m calling regarding Y/N. We need you to come in as soon as possible to sign her discharge papers.”

His heart dropped. “Discharge papers? What—why is she there? What happened to her?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but for safety and privacy reasons, I can’t disclose medical details over the phone. The doctor will explain everything once you arrive.”

Seungcheol felt a lump form in his throat. His mind was racing with worst-case scenarios. “But—she’s okay, right? Please, just tell me if it’s serious.”

A small pause. “She’s stable.”

That wasn’t enough. But it was all he was going to get.

“I’ll be there right away.”

By the time he hung up, his face was pale. The room had gone silent, all twelve members staring at him in alarm.

“What’s wrong?” Joshua asked carefully.

“Hospital,” Seungcheol said, his voice tight. “Y/N’s there.”

The reaction was instant.

“What?!” Hoshi’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Mingyu demanded.

“I don’t know.” Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair. “The nurse wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

That was all it took for them to grab their things and run out the door.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, the thirteen of them stormed through the entrance, heading straight for the reception desk.

“Y/N L/N,” Seungcheol said breathlessly. “She’s supposed to be discharged. Where is she?”

The nurse behind the desk barely blinked at the group of frantic men in front of her. “She’s in room 304, waiting for her discharge paperwork.”

Before she could say anything else, they were already rushing down the hall.

Pushing open the door to room 304, Seungcheol felt his chest tighten at the sight of Y/N sitting on the hospital bed, fully dressed, a small bandage on her forehead.

She blinked in surprise when she saw all thirteen of them pile into the room.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “I was expecting just Seungcheol.”

“Too bad,” Jeonghan muttered, arms crossed.

“Are you okay?” DK asked immediately, scanning her up and down.

Y/N sighed. “Guys, I’m fine. It was just a small accident.”

“Small accident?!” Seungkwan’s voice cracked. “You’re in a hospital!”

“They’re literally discharging me right now,” she said.

Before the panic could escalate, the doctor walked in, surprised to see so many people squeezed into the small room.

“Ah, you must be Y/N’s family?” he said, glancing at Seungcheol.

“She has thirteen very worried brothers,” Joshua answered.

The doctor chuckled. “Well, to ease your concerns—Y/N was in a minor car accident. She sustained a mild concussion and a small cut on her forehead that required two stitches. Other than that, she’s in good condition and cleared to go home.”

The members let out a collective breath, relief washing over them.

Mingyu, still not convinced, clapped his hands together. “Okay! I’m carrying her to the car.”

“For the last time, no,” Y/N groaned. “I can walk.”

“But—”

“She said no,” Seungcheol cut in, still in protective leader mode. “Let’s just take her home before one of you actually gives the hospital a reason to keep us here.”

As they left the hospital together, the tension finally eased, replaced by their usual playful bickering. Despite everything, Y/N couldn’t help but smile—she might have gotten hurt, but she’d never felt safer.

[seventeenreasonswhy]