#muse: jeon wonwoo

[heechwe]

ENCHANTED | 전원우

⟢ PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 6.1K ⟢ GENRE: fluff, semi-angst ⟢ TAGS: cinderella-ish retelling, royalty!wonwoo ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Life as the housemaid and an inconvenience to your family is not what you wished for, but Wonwoo brings a new, royal perspective that turns your world around.

Scrub, wipe, shine. The chant plays over in your head, a symphony to block out the call of your horrendous stepsister trotting down the staircase. She says your name with a shriek but you pay her no mind. More than likely she has another errand for you to do. One she will take pleasure in you finding uncomfortable, no doubt. The color of the suds and sloshing sounds of the water bring you comfort. You dip your rag in the bucket next to you and plop it on the tile floor. Taking pleasure in the most menial tasks makes life a lot more bearable.

Heejin calls your name again when she makes it to the last step, knowing well enough you can hear her when she’s standing over you. “Are you deaf? We need new clothes from the market!”

You look up to her, a confused but indifferent expression on your face. You don’t bother asking what the clothes are for, but you know she’ll tell you regardless.

“For the ball, you imbecile,” Heejin says.

Minha, the younger of the stepsisters, pipes up behind Heejin, her voice a squeak compared to her older counterpart. “It’s the prince’s coronation.”

You nod and continue scrubbing the tile. If the task at hand isn’t done before your stepmother gets home, she will have your head on one of the pikes lining the kingdom’s outer walls.

“Finish this and then head to the seamstress. The fabric must be on my bed by sundown, or Mother will not be pleased,” Heejin says, a warning interwoven with the smirk on her lips.

Heejin purposefully kicks your bucket of soapy water across the floor on her way to the sitting room. The liquid drenches your apron and face thoroughly. You wish you could sling an insult at her for her entitlement along with her lack of care for anyone’s wellbeing but her own. Minha’s face transforms into a small frown, her eyes expressing sympathy as she follows her sister’s trail.

Since your father took gravely ill five summers ago, you have yet to receive an ounce of kindness from your newfound family. “Family” is barely a word you’d use to describe the relationship between yourself and them, the wolves who invaded your home on the eve of your fourteenth birthday, just a year after your mother’s passing.

Minha is the kindest of them all for her inaction during your stepmother and Heejin’s abuse, but you wish you had a confidant somewhere in the world. 

You rifle with the letters you saved from your father and mother, the inscriptions inside of them the last memory you have of them both. Some written to each other, others simply their musings and thoughts you wish you would have discussed with them before they left this earth.

If only someone knew you truly, who cared to hear your words and valued their meaning. Who saw life as a gift rather than a tool used to induce a person’s misery. If dreams could become reality, you would not be alone another day.

Wonwoo mentally checked off the items in his head that the king and company expected to be done for the coronation ball. The town baker was provided with the list of desserts and bread necessary for the feast. The lute and harp players were given an excellent amount of coin for taking part with their instruments. Even the meat and dairy from the kingdom’s best butcher was safely stored in the horse-drawn carriage behind Wonwoo’s own stallion. The final task in need of completion was a trip to the seamstress. In the words of the king, “it’s not every day my boy finds a bride.”

On arrival, Wonwoo was enraptured with color. He absorbed the rolls of fabric and material encased on the shelves, the finest satin and puffiest tulle displayed for ladies and gentlemen to spare no expense on for the upcoming celebrations. He gave the specifications to the shopboy almost an hour ago, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind spending a bit longer outside of the castle walls.

The bell above the door pierces the air with its chime, and Wonwoo looks up to see the most encapsulating view in existence. Would someone disbelieve him if he said that view included a girl with cheeks caked in soot, her hair pulled back underneath a common scarf, and her clothes as drab as a servant girl’s? Probably. But the sunshine on your face and twinkling eyes suggests to him that he should continue looking for as long as he can.

The seamstress and owner of the shop comes from behind the store, a sketching pencil tucked atop her ear and a vibrant smile on her lips as she says your name, the letters together a lovely orchestra. “Here for the usual order?”

“No. Heejin needs something spectacular for the ball. Her words, not mine.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, and the seamstress laughs.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just wait a moment.” In a flash, the seamstress walks back to her private area of the shop, and Wonwoo is left alone again with you, the mysterious but mesmerizing girl. A maid perhaps, given the nature of your visit?

All he knows is that he must talk to you, whether you recognize him or not.

You lightly tap your hands against the wooden counter, waiting for Miss Jae to come back with a fabric to take home. Hopefully one that Heejin loves enough to keep. That way you don’t have to come back on foot a second time today.

“Blue is best.”

You turn with a gasp. The man attached to the voice is adorned in royal clothing, golden cufflinks and buttons matching the royal purple material of his clothes.

 “Sorry,” you stutter, hands suddenly clammy.

“Your color.” He slides over to a roll of sky blue satin, placing a patch of it over his arm. “It looks terrible on me, but on you, I believe you would outshine any commoner.” He lets out a breathless chuckle and intakes a deep gulp of air.

It has been so long since another person wanted to engage with you, especially someone as handsome as the person before you. He may be as nervous as you, given his awkward introduction, but you know your conversational skills are worse for what. You aren’t sure how to converse anymore about topics outside of dinner orders and cleaning supplies.

“Thank you, but I won’t be attending the upcoming festivities.” You try to hide the sadness that threatens to break free on your face, but you’re too late. The stranger sees it and responds in kind.

“Everyone is welcome to the coronation,” he assures you.

“I’m afraid ‘everyone’ does not involve me…Your—” You stop short, unsure of his title as you don’t know his name or his face from recent memory.

“Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo.” Wonwoo breaks into a smile. You’re unsure whether you like his laugh or his smile more, but both seem to make your cheeks heat up all the same. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, and you give yours back, curtsying in response.

You tell him your name as well, a blush on full display. “As I said, Wonwoo, I usually stay in. Not in my nature to court or be courted.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure your company is surely missed.” His hand is still caressing yours, thumb rubbing up and down your palm softly.

A shopboy suddenly comes into view. You both separate quickly, the intimate bubble bursting at the intrusion. The boy stuffs the garments in Wonwoo’s hands and bows swiftly before going back to his duties.

“You must be hard to miss as well, Wonwoo.”

“Well, you could say that.” You both hear a horse neigh outside the shop doors, and Wonwoo barely fights the urge to stay with you. “Until the next time.” He says his goodbye and your name with determination. If only you could assure him there will be a future where you cross paths again, but that hope may be squashed as quickly as it was born. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to hold onto it, though.

“Not terrible,” Heejin says when you come home, running her hand over the material Miss Jae gave to you. “If Mother needs more yards of it, you’ll have to go back immediately before they run out.”

“Of course, sister,” you say. You hate to use that word for someone as vile as Heejin, but Stepmother Jung enforced the rule as strictly as the list of chores you were to complete before the sun set every day. “We must always be a family in the eyes of society,” Stepmother Jung told you once after your father passed. “Even if you will never be a part of this one, you have to play your role.” If only that role extended to social gatherings.

Minha looks over Heejin’s shoulder and smiles. “It’s a beautiful pattern.”

“That’s why it’s for me. Mother will give you one of my old gowns to wear,” Heejin tuts and pats Minha under the chin with her free palm. You know Heejin spares her worst behavior for you, but in your eyes, Heejin doesn’t deserve the title of sister in any form. Just as your stepmother has no business being a mother to anyone.

“You’re dismissed,” Heejin says to you, the hand that was under Minha’s face used to wave you off.

“Sister, if I may.” She grimaces at you, but a curious spark remains in her eyes. You think back to Wonwoo, plucking up every ounce of your confidence. “I was wondering if you may consider letting me attend as well. Stepmother may not let me go of her own volition, but if you told her you approved then maybe-”

“And why would I do that,” Heejin says. She knows exactly what you want, and the only way for her to entertain the idea is if you grovel.

“Because I have never asked anything of you before.”

“As you should.” Your stepmother’s figure and shadow encompass the entirety of Heejin’s bedroom doorway. You immediately lower your head; it’s one of the humiliating rules you have to obey in the wake of becoming the family servant. You hear Heejin snicker, but it’s cut off immediately by Stepmother Jung clearing her throat. “Your purpose in this household is to do what is asked of you without complaint or question, not the other way around. Asking for anything else is an insult to me and my daughters.”

You feel tears prick the back of your throat, but you hold onto your resolve with a steadfast grip. “Stepmother, I am begging you—”

“I do not know what is worse, girls,” Stepmother Jung says, addressing Heejin and Minha, “hearing someone beg for something that will never come true or seeing someone forget their place in this world.”

Your bottom lip quivers without your approval. You can only hope none of the other people in the room are paying attention to your despair. Heartbreakingly, it appears they don’t.

“Now, Heejin, we need to measure you again for your dress. I swear you grow an inch every time you require a fitting, dear girl. Minha, I know exactly which of Heejin’s dresses will look perfect on you.” She motions for you to look her in the eye, and you force the tears to evaporate. “As for you, you have chickens to feed.”

“Seungcheol, I told you already, the conversation is over.”

“That’s Prince Seungcheol to you, kid.” Seungcheol juts Wonwoo in the arm. The practice swords whip through the air as the birds sing throughout the courtyard. “And who’s to say a royal summons would embarrass her? Everyone is to attend the ball. Maid, mare, or otherwise.”

“She seemed certain she was not supposed to be there. I don’t want her to feel forced to do anything.” Wonwoo huffs as he lands a blow on Seungcheol’s hip.

“What good is it to be royalty if I cannot help a dear friend and the future Hand of the King find love?”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol grew up together due to their fathers’ stations, one bearing the crown and the other gaining the responsibility of advising him. Although Wonwoo had no place without Seungcheol’s family, they had become close in their own right. Once Seungcheol ascended his throne, Wonwoo knew he was to be standing beside him with the title his father had worn for most of his life. 

With that in mind, it seemed both Wonwoo and Seungcheol were on respective quests to find a bride to continue the long-held, individual legacies they were born into.

“All you have to do is smile and dance with every eligible woman in the next three kingdoms while I hope my mystery girl decides to step out of the shadows, unprompted and entirely by her choice.” 

Seungcheol scoffs, sweat on his brow from trying to find an open spot on Wonwoo to exploit. “You place high priority on a stranger’s independence and choice-making.”

Wonwoo blushes. His thoughts go back to the fabrics, the jasmine smell in the air, you walking into his life and halting his day in the best way possible. He wishes he had said more, learnt more about you, held your hand longer before he was whisked away back to his priorities. Now he could only hope you would find your way back to him, whether by fate or of your own free will.

With his thoughts occupied, Seungcheol takes the opportunity to knock Wonwoo in the shoulder. Seungcheol smiles triumphantly, biting his lip. “Finally, for fuck’s sake.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You won’t beat me again, Choi.”

“Wanna bet?” Seungcheol jokes.

Wonwoo immediately thwacks Seungcheol’s sword out of his hand in response. The tip of Wonwoo’s meets the column of the prince’s throat, and he grins. “You should train more if you want to be half as good as me.”

Dust, sweep, clean. You repeat the list in your head with traces of melancholy in your heart. You weren’t expecting to be allowed to go to the ball without a fight, but Stepmother Jung was right. What was the point in fighting if you had no standing at all to barter with?

Minha calls your name, her appearance in the kitchen is like magic. You must’ve been too lost in your morose thoughts to notice her walk in. Or she seems to know how to sneak around the manor better than you do.

Her arms rest behind her back, concealing something. “I’m sorry,” she says immediately, surprising you.

“I cannot blame you for Heejin or your mother.” A part of you wishes you could be more cruel, but you’re certain you have little to no capacity to be, even to your worst enemy. “You have done nothing to require an apology.” 

“I have. You deserve to go to the ball as much as any of us do.” She looks over her shoulder for someone, or a lack thereof. Satisfied, she throws a lump of fabric on the kitchen island. You notice the bandages on Minha’s fingers with a quick glance before focusing on the dress. The turquoise material sparkles in the light of the stained glass windows. “So you will.”

“Minha, I can’t-” You feel the same tears coating the back of your throat again, grateful to her but incapable of accepting the gesture.

“You can. You were right when you said you’ve never asked for anything before. So don’t ask. Take the chance, and the dress, and go to the ball.”

With that, Minha disappears quietly from the room, leaving the decision in the air for you to either seize or surrender.

The main ballroom is filled with swathes of dancing couples alongside gossiping nobility and local townspeople. To a stranger walking in, it was a display of royal decadence, the party lit from within with the sounds of joyous laughter, heavenly harps, and gorgeous decor. To Wonwoo, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

 Seungcheol and his parents sit in their royal chairs, the gleaming gold of the upholstery almost too polished for Wonwoo’s eyes. The young men share knowing glances when someone particularly obnoxious makes an entrance or wishes to greet the royal family. Wonwoo wishes he could joke with his best friend openly about the noble women’s copious frills and curly mops, but now is not the time or place.

Wonwoo’s father leaves the king’s side to pat his son on the back. “You did well with your part in this, Woo. Maybe you’ll be rewarded with finding someone to wed as well. Wouldn’t that be luck smiling on us all,” he says with a loving grin.

“I doubt that someone will show up.” Wonwoo frowns.

“Have faith, my boy.”

Like luck was indeed shining on him, Wonwoo looks up and sees you at the top of the stairs, horns blazing to signify your arrival. Even in a mask, he can tell it’s you from the skipping of his heart. With your hair in a loose bun, tendrils framing your face with precision, you look nothing like the girl he met in the dress shop yet the exact same. He wonders how the color blue had the capacity to take his breath away. It doesn’t help how the dress’s bodice hugs you perfectly, the bottom of the gown a cloud that Wonwoo wishes he could rest his head upon forever.

You fidget with the tops of your gloves that brush the neckline of your dress, the sleeves dropping loosely on your shoulders. Wonwoo wants to rush up the stairs to assure you there is no need to be nervous.You’re the most beautiful woman in this kingdom, tonight and always.

When you reach the bottom, everyone is looking at you, the mysterious stranger that nobody can recall or pinpoint. You hear murmurs as you pass, some predicting you’re a long lost relative of the prince or whispering of you being a foreign beauty. You laugh to yourself at their capacity to chat and how far they are from the truth.

You catch Minha’s eye from her corner of the room, Heejin and your stepmother sneering at you. Minha smiles, a silent cheer in her expression, and you respond with a mirrored grin.

You make it to the center of the room, the pathway cleared for you thanks to the shock and awe of the crowd. To your content, Wonwoo meets you halfway. A hush falls over the spectators when he meets you on the dance-floor, but you don’t care about their perceptions.

Wonwoo says your name and bows. You curtsy in response. Despite feeling out of place for half of your life, it seems instinctual now to be in this room. Not with the strangers surrounding you, but definitely with him. “My prince.” 

A look of shock over Wonwoo’s face, and he immediately laughs. “No, I-I— I should have told you before. I’m not—“

You place a hand to your mouth, the realization a flood. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“I didn’t tell you before, so I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“I did say I don’t attend many social gatherings.”

You both share a laugh, the confusion dissipating your embarrassment at your slipup. You notice a well-dressed young man that steals all the glances in the room away from you, the man you now know is the prince himself. He strides over to Minha, her expression a pale sheet. He takes her hand for the next song, which she gleefully accepts.

Wonwoo pulls your attention back to him with the taking of your hand in his. “May I ask you to dance?”

“I would be delighted.”

You sit on one of the many balconies in the royal castle, breathless. Your feet should hurt more than they do with the multitude of waltzes you danced with Wonwoo, but they don’t. You wouldn’t mind if every limb ached, though. With Wonwoo beside you, breathless as well from the night’s excursions, you feel light as air. Free from the obligations you never asked for.

If only you knew Wonwoo felt the same way. He could not remember the last time he smiled this much in one day. Seungcheol was his best friend, his father the biggest influence in his life, and yet both of them reminded him daily of what the future entailed. With you, he didn’t feel anything but ease. 

“What if they send a kingsguard looking for us?” Your mouth is upturned in a smile, but you know Wonwoo shouldn’t be gone too long from the events. He was of some royal standing, and he needed to be there, shaking hands and bowing to subjects.

Wonwoo furrows his brows, his smile mirroring yours. “Seungcheol is the one who needs the most protection tonight. And besides, it would take ten of the best men to pull me from this balcony.” He chuckles. “Right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

You nod and sigh happily. Looking over the edge of the marble landing, you agree with him. The town square is visible from your vantage point, the torches and homes, big and small, specks of light celebrating the coronation. “It is a beautiful view.”

“Is it indeed,” Wonwoo says, his eyes pinned to you and the bare skin of your upper chest. Your skin looks lit from within, your entire being a star amongst a sea of darkness. It’s at this moment Wonwoo knows his father was right. Luck has given him the greatest gift and more, and he won’t let you get away again.

You turn your head. His words make your breath hitch, but you try to reserve yourself. You smile in response and take his hands in yours. Your bodies are closer than you initially realized, and the look in his eyes begs you to move further towards him. 

All your life, you have lived at the whims of others. As you see it, there’s nothing wrong with taking your power back. Choosing at this moment to throw other parts of your life out of focus. Wonwoo is all you want, so you take your chance.

His mouth softly collides with yours, his lips careful to press too hard onto yours. He presses one hand to your neck, deepening his kiss and igniting a fire inside your heart. Every insult or slight you’ve endured over the years seems to fade away in that instant. You’re grateful, even, if it meant it all led to the moment in front of you, a man who seems to share your feelings confirming so with a kiss you’ve never experienced before.

You break away from him, each others’ lips still centimeters away. Wonwoo inhales a shaky breath, eyes hazy with longing. The desire to kiss him again and hold him closer is strong, but timing proves the night can’t last forever.

Your stepmother’s carriage suddenly comes to the front of the palace, and you feel your stomach fall.

You quickly step back from Wonwoo and take a breath, nerves spiking and your heart telling you to defy your head at this moment. It would be so easy to stay here and not look back, but the fallout would be too incredible to bear. And you wouldn’t wish that on this beautiful man in front of you.

“I must go,” you say, a sob caught in your throat.

“Please don’t leave. It’s only midnight,” Wonwoo insists, squeezing your hand. In the same fashion as the day you first met, he’s rubbing circles into your palm, almost like an incantation. With his words and his touch, maybe he can convince you.

Unfortunately, your choices can’t be that easily swayed when so much is on the line.

“I told you before Wonwoo. My life isn’t filled with parties like this,” you reply, tone wavering, “or people like you.” You take his hand in both of yours and press a kiss to the knuckles. “But I’ll cherish this forever.”

Before the pleading look on his face breaks your resolve, you gather your skirts in your hand and run.

You run down the staircase Wonwoo brought you up only moments before.  He calls out your name,  but you refuse to look back now, knowing it will break you to look into his eyes and walk away again if need be. You feel yourself fading the further you run away from him and out of his life.

It’s true, you’ll never forget him or the way he’s made you feel. But it’s also true that it is terrible to forget one’s role in the world. How does one witness all the colors of the world and accept going back to living in black and white?

Little did you know the paper you carried in your skirt's pocket had fallen out on the way out of the palace. Wonwoo looks through the forest lining the castle and curses, you disappearing successfully in the darkness. 

Before he can walk back into the ballroom, he notices the aged paper on the brick steps of the stairs. He unfurls it and reads the handwritten text. He exhales with relief, feeling in his gut he has found the key to finding you again.

No matter where he has to look, whether it’s beside a babbling brook or the highest castle on the far side of the ocean, he promises himself the next time he sees you he will make sure you stay by his side forever.

You feel the sticks and twigs scrape your arms and legs as you run into the forest, the fabric of your dress in ribbons by the time you make it home. Thankfully, you don’t see the coach or footmen anywhere in the distance.

Once you’re inside, you discard the clothes and makeup into the cellar’s hearth. Each item burns slowly, reminding you with every new cinder of your harsh welcome back to the reality you’re familiar with.  The smock you quickly tied around your waist and the soot you smeared across your face to avoid suspicion. The calluses on your palms from the endless, menial work. Your pliable acceptance of cruelty.

It’s all you’ve known, but it feels foreign at the same time. You don’t want to go back to your routine now that you’ve had a taste of what life could be.

Your stepmother and stepsisters waltz into the foyer. Minha looks starry-eyed and love-swept, all of which relate back to her dallying with the prince.

“I can’t believe he danced with me but was looking at you the entire time,” Heejin sneers at Minha, removing her gloves with tense fingers.

You smile to yourself, happy Heejin was knocked down from her high horse and the tides turned in Minha’s favor.

“The good thing is that the prince showed one of you attention, my love.” Your stepmother splays her fur coat out on the loveseat, your cue to immediately scoop it up to carry to the coat closet.

“Tomorrow you need to clean inside the cupboards. I noticed they were a tad dusty,” Heejin says before you can walk out of the room. Your heart was heavy before, but now it’s numbed and frozen to the habitual torture.

"Of course, sister."

Wonwoo rubs his fingers over the page’s text as his father interrogates the young girl in front of them. Seungcheol sits back in his throne beside the king’s chair, curious if this is the girl his best friend whisked away four nights prior.

Wonwoo’s father plucks the writing from Wonwoo’s hand and gives it to the knight. The knight hands it to the girl, her face doe-eyed and timid. “Is this writing familiar to you in any way?”

She looks down to the floor and shakes her head. “No, Lord Hand.”

She didn’t look familiar at all to Wonwoo, just like the last dozen women who came before his father and the prince.

Seungcheol’s idea to find Wonwoo’s mystery girl by interrogating every noble and common girl in the kingdom sounded stupid the second Wonwoo heard it. But with the king’s approval and the hand’s enthusiasm to find his child a bride, the plan was enacted.

Now, in paper and practice, Wonwoo feels more defeated the longer they continue. The only thing that gives him solace is the paper he found, his only connection to you keeping him grounded.

The girl bows for Wonwoo and the royal figures in front of her before being escorted away from the great hall. Wonwoo’s father hands the paper back to his son and sighs.

“I feel we are much closer,” his father says to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo laughs sadly. “It seems you’re the only one who feels that way.”

Seungcheol stands from his chair and pats his friend on the back, his version of a hug. “Closer or further, we’ll do whatever we must,” Seungcheol says to Wonwoo’s father.

Wonwoo’s father exits, a handful of knights marching behind him.

Seungcheol puts a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He looks at his best friend with sincerity, a vulnerability he rarely shared with anyone. “You cannot lose hope now.”

Wonwoo nods. “That’s not what I’m afraid of losing. The longer this search continues, the more I feel our chance slipping away.”

Wonwoo traces the familiar pattern of the words with his thumb, the lost paper the one thing holding him steady.

You rifle through the documents you’ve held onto over the years, fear triggering the tremble in your hands. You had brought the dress home from the ball and immediately threw it in the fire. If you had accidentally discarded one of your father’s most precious letters along with the items you burned that night, you’d never forgive yourself.

You hear a horse-drawn carriage outside of the manor and the shrill wail of Heejin calling your name. It stamps down your anxiety enough for you to focus on following the sound.

Walking into the room, you see your stepmother lacing up Heejin’s corset while Heejin is putting a dab of rouge on both cheeks. “The royal carriages are outside!”

You gulp and nod at your sister, unsure what she wants from you.

She exhales with an angry breath and motions for you to go upstairs. “Get my shoes, you idiot!”

Minha stands at the top of the stairs and looks at you sadly. “I could’ve gotten them for you if you just asked, Hee.”

“Like you could do any better,” Heejin remarks. Her voice becomes airy when your stepmother reaches the final inch of tightening on Heejin’s corset. You run up the stairs to quickly follow your orders.

You squeeze Minha’s hand as you pass her to walk towards Heejin’s room. When you find the slippers and place them on your stepsister’s feet, someone knocks on the door forcefully.

Minha and Heejin stand in the center of the room as your stepmother walks up to the front door. You run back down to the cellar. 

Typically you would answer the door for company, but you knew your stepmother wouldn’t want the royalty welcomed by the unbecoming help.

Regardless, your heart thumps furiously at the sound of the stranger at the door delivering his greeting. And you can only wonder what will occur because of his presence.

Wonwoo waits in the carriage as the knight addresses the lady of the house. Wonwoo vaguely remembers his name and feels guilty for not keeping it to memory. Mingyu, was it not?

The lady of the house, her mouth a permanent grimace, nods and opens the door wide for the company to come inside. Wonwoo’s father steps out and Wonwoo follows behind him. Seungcheol exits his own carriage as well.

They all enter the manor, and Heejin can’t help her squeal at the prince’s presence in their home. Wonwoo stifles an eye-roll, keeping his mind focused on business.

As soon as Seungcheol locks eyes with Minha, he smiles. “My lady,” Seungcheol says, striding over to her to bend down and kiss her hand. Minha’s cheeks turn a deep scarlet, but she bows accordingly and smiles.

“‘My p-prince,” Minha stutters.

Heejin sneers at her younger sister, but the prince is too enamored with the young woman in front of him to pay any attention to her.

Wonwoo’s father coughs, redirecting everyone’s attention to him. “Madam Jung, our records indicate there are four residents in this manor. So, to be correct, outside of the three of you here now—”

Madam Jung giggles uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Lord Hand, I have not been to the registrar in some time. Those records must be outdated.”

“So, the third child referenced in these documents-”

 “Took ill some time ago. Again, an oversight caused by immense grief, I assure you.” The words leave her mouth instinctually. Wonwoo feels the confidence in her words and how false it is. From the conduct of her oldest daughter, he’s not surprised lies and negativity are commonplace in the household.

A rumble from the below startles both the women and Wonwoo’s father. The knights instinctively grab the hilts of their swords, but to no danger, a girl covered in ashes from the hearth saunters into the center of the foyer, tears streaming down her face and fists clenched.

In that second, Wonwoo feels he could cry as well.

He wants to run over to you and kiss the tears from your face, squeeze you tight, and get down on his knee in front of everyone in the room. The weight of the ring box in his pocket reminds him of what he has wanted to do since you left him alone that night. He inhales a deep breath, both elated and terrified at once, wondering what is going through your mind at the sight of him here.

I’ll never let you go again, he thinks with steadfast certainty.

Wonwoo comes back to reality when he realizes you’re stomping towards your stepmother. You have barely noticed anyone else’s presence in the room besides hers, and he’s sure you heard every word of her lies from the cellar. The pain on your face is a mixture of incredulity and anger. The emotions are knotted together in the expression on your dampened face.

“How dare you,” you whisper, lips quivering but voice solid as a stone.

“How dare I-” Your stepmother starts, but you raise a hand to her. She blanches. Surely she’s shocked to see this side of you rear its head.

“My whole life, the only act of kindness you’ve shown me is pretending I didn’t exist, in spite of my father’s love for both of us. And now, after everything, to wish me dead…” 

You muster what is left of your strength to continue. “I’m unsure what I did to deserve such hatred in this family, but all I’ve ever wanted was to belong. Was that worth me being punished for this long, mother?” The word tastes like venom on your tongue. It prickles the flesh on your arms to call her such a title, but spitting it back at her with vitriol makes a part of your anger subside.

“You w-will not speak to me like that in my own home, you l-little pest,” she stutters. To your satisfaction, her insults have no weight now.

“This house could be eaten by the hearth, for all it’s worth. It’s no home of mine anymore,” you say.

Done with her and your speech, you begin to walk away. You stop short at the audience in front of you, failing to recognize their presence before. You bow to the Hand and Prince Seungcheol, but you freeze instantly when you see Wonwoo barely ten feet away.

A burden lifts from your heart when your eyes meet. Suddenly, the two of you are in each others’ arms, the pain you felt prior a vague memory.

“I knew I would find you,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head. He cups your cheeks with his hands, some of the soot scraping off onto his fingers.

You smile wide. What could you say to encompass the feeling of seeing him again? No words would do the sensations justice.

Wonwoo continues before you can respond. “Like the stars you look to above.”

Hearing your father’s words on his lips makes your heart swell. Of course he had the letter. It had to be fate. It was meant to be lost and then found by the man you fell in love with so easily.

“Follow your faith home, and you shall find my love,” you finish, biting your lip to hold yourself back from weeping more.

Unable to stop himself, he presses his lips to yours. He steals the smile on your mouth for himself, his mouth turns into a grin through the kiss. Even when you separate, your foreheads remain touching. 

You had been led to believe, through years of darkness and cruelty, dreams couldn’t come true. And now, with a full heart, you realize love can make every dream come true if you believe.

[wonwoonlight]

always with you | jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader (ft: Jisoo, Karina (Yoo Jimin), Jeonghan, Soonyoung, etc.)

➝ word count: 10k (lol) // non-idol!au // childhood friends to ?? // idiots to ???? // angst if u squint

➝ not inspired by this song but i was listening to "your love" by Jisoo and it fits <////3

➝ warning: food, responsible alcohol consumption lol, theyre pining idiots, kisses mwah. i want THIS. this is me projecting. not proofread.

a/n: hi. this has been sitting in my draft for months and i willed myself to finish this before the loml enlists. to my muse, jeon wonwoo, i'll always be here for u <3 i didnt expect this to reach 10k. i do Not Know what this is. pls bare w me and my self indulgence. enjoy <3

your love feels like the rain, feels like a song i used to know. (your love - jisoo)

It’s weird, what you have with Jeon Wonwoo.

It feels like you’ve always known him–with him being your neighbor and all. But it’s not until university that you actually get to know the guy as a friend, which is funny because Wonwoo attended a prestigious university in Seoul and you ended up living abroad in Japan.

Looking back, Wonwoo has always been in your life even when you’re nothing but neighbors and school mates. You’d even go home together from time to time, sharing polite conversations that didn’t really have substance nor anything too personal. So how did you even get closer to him after you were apart rather than when you were physically close to each other?

It went like: Wonwoo went to Japan for his first solo trip and your mom made him bring you stuff and she made you bring him around because ‘it’s the least you could do after troubling him’.

You didn’t mind, of course. As much as you were not very close with Wonwoo, you still considered him… something (ha!) and he’s not the worst to be around. Plus, you might or might not feel a little embarrassed because your mom made him bring so much stuff for you. You imagined a third of his luggage was full because of yours. Bringing him around and treating him food really was the least you could do.

“You’re more… bright.” You remember Wonwoo told you that first night. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm. It’s nice to see.”

You’ve never really been quiet, if you’re to be completely honest. But you suppose you’d never been around each other enough, nor your circle of friends clash, for him to know this at that point. 

Plus, you had to admit living by yourself in another country did change you. 

That was the first time you ever sat down to talk with him, which led to more and more meals, and you joining him whenever you could until Wonwoo left back to Korea. 

“Text me once you've landed?” You had said, almost hesitant. Now that his trip ended, you wondered if what you shared with him was nothing but a fleeting closeness generated out of proximity. But when Wonwoo smiled and proceeded to send you pictures that he took during the trip not ten minutes after you left the airport, your heart settled in content, recognizing the sign of a new friend you would get to keep around.

It’s not until a few months later you got to see him again when you went back home for Christmas. You hadn’t been able to ask if he’d go down to Changwon or stay in Seoul for the holiday, and you got your answer when you saw him in your family house the moment you arrived. 

It was weird, the way your heart picked up a little when he looked up and grinned at your arrival. You didn’t want to think much of it though, so you simply waved and asked what he’s doing in your living room. Naturally, it’s your mom who answered, fussing about your rude question, how thin you had gotten (it’s her favorite phrase, one that doesn’t hold much meaning because she says this to anyone she hasn’t seen in a long time–even when you’re pretty sure you’ve gained weight), and added that Wonwoo was in your house because his parents were on a trip and would return in a few days, so your mom took the rein and decided to feed the poor guy whenever she could.

“Let me help you with that.” He didn’t wait for your answer, simply took your luggage and urged you to move upstairs to your room. “What did you even have here?”

“Lots and lots of snacks.” You grinned sheepishly. You let him put your luggage into your room, letting the door open as you told him to sit because you had something for him. “I didn’t know you’d be around so I was just going to leave this to Auntie, but now that you’re here…”

“Oh?” He looked intrigued at your words. In the way of things, of course you didn’t end up being best friends after spending a week with each other. It’s not that easy. That, together with the fact that Wonwoo is not the texting type while you’re definitely one, resulted in you texting each other on random intervals.

He would reply to your instagram story or you, his, and you’d end up talking about something else at some point, until he took forever to reply and you ended up not replying because you simply forgot to.

Still, you would smile to yourself when you see his name popping up in your phone, and you end up with a friendship you didn’t have before despite having known each other for almost fifteen years at that point in time.

“Yeah! Look at this!” It’s a cat shaped keyring that you showed him, colored in deep purple and a pair of glasses perched on its small nose. It looked annoyed. “I saw this and thought of you.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

But the fact that you thought of him and bought something for him just because stirred something within him that he didn’t know how to feel either. You babbled about some snacks you bought for him too because he seemed to enjoy them, along with new ones that you thought he would like.

“I also got something for your brother, should I just… leave it to you?”

He paused at that, once again unsure how to handle the way his mind blanked at your words. Had you always been this attentive to his family? Had anyone ever done this for him? If you noticed the way he took a moment to answer this simple question, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah, sure.” 

Your trip back home for the holiday lasted for a total of ten days. In the natural order of things, you spent about eight days in Wonwoo’s presence because your other friends didn’t return to Changwon, and Wonwoo’s…well, he didn’t have a lot of friends to begin with, and his close friend went on a family trip to Europe. The two days you didn’t spend with him was because: (1) you caught a bad case of flu and refused to see anyone; and, (2) You’re returning to Japan at ungodly hours in the morning (re: it’s at 10, but you needed to wake up at 4 in the morning because you had to take the train to Busan to get to the airport and you’re anxious like that) so you obviously couldn’t see him on your last day. 

As you waited by yourself in the airport, you stared at Wonwoo’s text telling you to have a safe flight.

It’s not a crush, what you had for him. But you tried to imagine if you would mind dating him and the answer was: no, you would not. Wonwoo’s a good person, he shared the same humor code as you, you seemed to be able to communicate well, and he already knew your family. And, well, if you’re being completely honest, he really was your type in the visual department. (Those glasses. Fuck.)

If you were to think about why you wouldn't date him, it would be because he's a little tad too quiet. You imagined the both of you would suck at communicating your feelings because you're also stupid when it comes to that.

Would that be a dealbreaker?

[1 New Message(s) from Jeon Wonwoo]

You blinked at the notification. 

Wait. 

Fuck.

Were you actually, seriously thinking about dating Jeon Wonwoo?

Your phone pinged again with a new notification, Wonwoo's name beaming at you.

You remember biting your lip so hard to stop yourself from smiling you almost bled.

It's been roughly two years since that fateful night you found yourself hanging out with Wonwoo.

No.

He is not currently your boyfriend.

He’s also currently not your best friend.

You're still living in Japan after your graduation about a year ago, and Wonwoo is in Singapore for a three-month long training workshop that his company provides for.

The two of you exist in a bizarre plane of exclusivity that isn't romantic but not not romantic either.

You know Wonwoo doesn't text people in general. But he regularly texts you to the point where his parents would ask you to tell him to reply to their messages, or would just text you so you'd forward the message to him.

You don’t talk to him on a daily basis, but you’re pretty sure you’re still one of the very handful people Wonwoo talks to the most. Which is something because sometimes you'd go a month or two not talking to each other.

Additionally, you don’t think he has any other female close friends other than you, which annoys you a little because you’ve been wanting to find out if the way he talks to you and treats you is the same way he would to another friend or if it’s something… more.

Jimin says he’s definitely into you. She might not know the guy personally, but she’s heard enough and she insists that there’s no way that someone like Wonwoo (or what you paint of him) would even text you this often and spend that much time with you if he’s not interested.

Jisoo does not agree. She says if he's really interested in pursuing something with you, then he would’ve made it clear that he did. He wouldn't drag you through this grey area that is your exclusivity, and she's been giving you shit because is this exclusivity even a two way street or have you been dodging dates because of him only to find out Wonwoo hasn't been considering you the same way?

“He likes her stories when she uploads selfies!” Jimin argues on his behalf–why, you’d never know.

“Duh. So what? He still doesn’t ask her out on dates.” Jisoo rolls her eyes, not easily bought after all this time.

“Perhaps the fact that she lives abroad doesn't make that easy?”

“I live abroad.” Jisoo stares at Jimin in challenge. “My boyfriend lives in Seoul and we're still doing fine. What's his reason?”

Sometimes Jeonghan would be present during this neverending topic and would occasionally join the discussion just to fuel the fire, or would otherwise play with his phone because he’s not all that invested like the two girls are.

“I would never like someone’s selfies on stories if I’m not interested.” He gives them a piece of his mind as a guy, like it actually matters, but Jimin’s smile in triumph does not last long. “But Jisoo’s right. He’d make it obvious if he wanted you. Liking your stories doesn't mean shit.”

“He visits here regularly enough, though!!” Jimin still tries to make a case. “Really, it's about time we meet him. Why are you not letting us meet him?”

You sigh as you rub your temple. You don’t even know how this discussion starts again. Probably because you’ve simply said ‘Singapore seems nice’ and that turns into ‘why are you suddenly talking about Singapore?’ which snowballs to ‘Wonwoo’s texting you again?’.

Which brings you here.

“I’m… not even that into him.” You shake your head at them. “I told you guys once that I wouldn’t mind dating him. Not that I’m in love with him.”

Jimin waves her hand dismissively. “It’s all the same for you.”

“Can’t disagree with her there.” Jisoo crunches her nose in distaste. “You’re not interested in anyone. The fact that he’s the only guy you ever talk about constantly for the last two years is… something. He’s handsome, I’ll give you that. Seems nice, too. Plus, your family and his family approves of the two of you. I just don’t like how he’s stringing you along.”

“He’s not–”

“He is.” Jeonghan cuts you off. “He might not be doing it on purpose, but he is stringing you along. Why are you not going out on dates when you’ve been complaining that you’re lonely?”

“Because it’s awkward?” You try to reason. The face they give you would be funny if it isn’t directed to you. “No one asks me on dates? Hello?”

That’s not a lie; you’re not exactly one that gets rained on date invitations. But that’s not the complete truth either, because you know your friends are more than happy to set you up on dates (and, if you’re to be completely honest, Jeonghan has a friend that’s been asking about you and he actually approves of the guy, so…) but you’ve been telling them no because you just… don’t feel like going.

It doesn’t feel right.

Apparently, Jeonghan isn't in the mood to entertain you and decides to cut through the case.  “Yeah, but it’s not awkward to meet Wonwoo everyday and hang out privately when you can, right?”

You pout at him, to which he simply flicks your forehead in return. Jeonghan has never really been the type to join your ‘girl talks’ when it happens around him, preferring his peace, and if Yoon Jeonghan himself has decided to actually sit down and talk to you seriously then you know you’re screwed because there’s no way out of it. 

“I’m not buying that. Perhaps you’re not in love with him now. But you’re holding out because of him and that means you have enough feelings for the guy, or you’re expecting something to happen between the two of you.”

“Do you think he's also holding out because you live abroad?”

At this point, you don’t even know what you feel for Jeon Wonwoo.

Have you really been holding out because of him?

It’s not like the two of you are actually exclusive; you both just happen to be friendlier than friends are supposed to be but not exactly lovers. You wouldn’t call it situationship either, because you don't flirt nor send mixed signals to each other.

Sure, you'd sleep over in his place when you go to Seoul and he'd insist on picking you up when it gets too late because you don't notice the time. And, yeah, sure, Wonwoo visits Tokyo at least once every three months and he'd also sleep in your place because why would he spend money on accommodation when your sofa is so comfortably available?

Does it matter that you would never let anyone sleep in your place, not even your own sibling, and that Wonwoo hates anyone touching his bed but lets you sleep there because ‘you're the guest and of course I want you comfortable'?

Nope. 

Definitely not.

“It's really not that hard.” Soonyoung, one of the very few people in your circle that's not emotionally constipated and knows both you and Wonwoo, tells you before. “Imagine him doing all those things to someone else. Would you be pissed?”

You do not like the answer to that. But Soonyoung does not care and he doesn't wait for your answer. He happily steals your french fries and slurps on your cola as he forces you into admitting your feelings in the most straightforward way possible.

“If the answer is yes, then you're into him. If no, then you're fucking lying and I don't believe you.”

You jump at the notification on your phone, eyebrows rising beyond your bangs when you see who's calling.

Incoming call from Jeon Wonwoo

Wonwoo does not call. And when he does, he always texts you first and asks if you're available. He hates phone calls with his wholebeing, something that you religiously share, which means something's up and your heartbeat spikes at whatever that might've happened. for him to call you out of nowhere.

“Hello?” His answer doesn’t come immediately, so you try once again and it’s then that Wonwoo finally greets you back. “Is everything okay?’

”I… yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sorry for calling out of nowhere.”

You frown at his strange tone. You expect him to be a little frantic-surely something big happened for him to call you like this, right? But he doesn't really sound like he’s in any urgency to tell you what’s up; so you take the bait and ask him again.

”You sure?” 

Wonwoo sighs, and you sit up in concern because it’s not often that he’s this open with his struggle.

”Just… one of those days. Thought I’d call you.” He offers you honestly.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Wonwoo takes a moment and clears his throat, and you know immediately that his answer is no.

“When are you returning to Seoul, again?” You decide to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“In about a month. Why?”

“I might fly back.” You hum as you answer him. You try to extinguish the way your heart accelerates as his voice gets a little excited, try your best to ignore that excitement like you don't notice at all. “Thought I'd wait for you.”

You also try your best to sound nonchalant as you say that, but you're not sure if it's working. Either way, Wonwoo doesn't say anything about it.

“Oh? What's the occasion this time around?” 

“Some business trip. I might not have to crash your place.” 

He doesn't ask why you'd need to wait for him if you're not going stay over anyway. “And you can… arrange it as you want?”

“Somewhat.” You don't explain further. “I might need to drive down to Changwon too.”

“I'll see if I can come with you, then.” He answers readily. Your heart accelerates a bit more at the way he doesn't even wait a second to offer. 

The two of you share a comfortable silence for a bit, but Wonwoo can always tell when you have a lot in your mind, so he shoots right away.

“Anything on your mind?”

“Just…” You bite your lip in thinking, wonder if it's too early to let him know about it. Then decide it's not time just yet. “Nothing big. I'll let you know once things are clearer?”

“Okay.”

Your heart melts a little at his answer. It's why you like talking to Wonwoo despite his sometimes too realistic answer: he never pushes. He once tells you he trusts you'll tell him when you need to; that he doesn't need to coerce it out of you. 

Truthfully, you wish he would do it sometimes. But you also appreciate his trust in you and the way he listens to your words.

“I met Jisoo and the others today.” You mention just for the sake of distracting him. When Wonwoo is honest but he doesn't want to talk about it, you know what he needs is distraction. So it's really your cue to talk about anything that passes into your mind.

“Oh yeah? How's she?”

Wonwoo does not know your friends personally. But just like you talk about him to your friends, you talk about them to him. He's pretty attentive too, always remembers what you say about them even in passing. 

You wonder if he's this attentive to other people, too.

“Good. We went to this new izakaya near her place and their highball is to die for. You have to try the next time you're here.”

“You do like your highballs, don't you?” You can imagine the grin on his face even though you can't see him.

“You know I do.”

It's almost 2AM when you hang up, with Wonwoo falling asleep on the other side of the line. You spend about a minute staring at your walls, fifteen minutes pondering on the phone call you just had, and then another sixty trying to gather your feelings.

Fuck.

You really are in too deep with Jeon Wonwoo.

Wonwoo picks you up at the airport. He silently takes your luggage and guides you to his car parked not too far from the arrival building. 

There's no fanfare of confusing hugs nor hand holdings that's a little too tight. Wonwoo has never been big when it comes to physical touch to begin with; yet another point that's in contrast with you because you latch on anyone you're comfortable enough with within a meter radius. 

Wonwoo lets you rest your head on his shoulder though. And he'd sometimes take your hands when you're walking and the street is a little tad too busy, only letting go once it gets less crowded. The first time it happened, you almost threw your heart up.

“Where to, Miss?” He mocks being your chauffeur, to which you glare at and let him know the name of your hotel. “Oooh. Fancy.”

“Shut up and drive.”

Naturally, Wonwoo does as you say. It's your playlist playing in the background as a comfortable silence blankets the two of you. You haven't seen Wonwoo in six months, but it doesn't feel like that because you've been talking to each other a lot these days compared to before.

You're not sure what changed in that department, but Wonwoo has been rather active with his texts which confused you a little at first. You're not complaining though, even if it means Jisoo and the others are giving you shit for being on your phone more so than usual.

Still, it's a rather nice change instead of the other way around.

It's so easy being with Wonwoo. 

Everything seems to just work itself when you're with him. You don't really have to think much, even now after you realize and accept that you really do feel something more for him. You don't feel awkward when you see him, contrary to what you expected. 

During check in, you give the desk Wonwoo's car number when they ask if you need parking. You don't know why you assume he would have his car parked in your hotel at some point, but you try to convince yourself that it's simply a “just in case” scenario. 

You don't know why it's so natural for you to do that, either.

“We're meeting Soonyoung for dinner, right?” You ask as you wait for the elevator to come up to your room. Wonwoo leans on the wall, your small luggage still tight on his hand.

“Yeah. He's bringing you to his favorite place.”

“Have you been?”

“More times than I would've liked.” He grins. “It's pretty good. But Soonyoung always brings people there and I had the unfortunate luck to always be there when he introduces the place to someone.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head in confusion, the elevator dings just in time. Wonwoo steps out first and you follow into step beside him. “I didn't know you have a lot of mutual friends with him?”

Wonwoo doesn't go out a lot. He doesn't really like eating with people he doesn't know, so it surprises you a little that he's often there with Soonyoung when the guy is…introducing the place to someone else…?

A few seconds pass, and you wonder why Wonwoo seems to be contemplating his words. Does this mean…?

“Not that many, to be honest.” You notice he winces a little. The card beeps and you open your door, when Wonwoo goes past you as you hold the door open for him, you hold your breath at his proximity and the subtle scent of his perfume.

“But…?”

“Three times he brought me there to meet our mutual friends who don't live in Seoul, two other times just because, and…”

You settle on the edge of your bed as you look at him expectedly, your heart already beating loudly against your chest. You don't know why, but you feel like you already know the rest of the story and you don't like it.

Wonwoo sits right next to you on the bed, his thigh touches yours and his scent invades your being once again. He doesn't take your hand, but the way he's looking into your eyes and his knuckle hits the back of your hands tell you enough that he's nervous. Perhaps a tad bit guilty.

“One time he forced me to go on a double date because he really liked the girl and she wouldn't say yes unless he's bringing a friend for hers.” He explains. If he notices the way your breath stops for a bit, he doesn't say anything. “I told him I don't want to go, that I'm not interested. But he called in a favour I owe him a long time ago and… yeah.”

“Oh.”

It's the first time you ever share an awkward silence with the man beside you. You're not sure what to say despite already expecting the story to end this way–because what right do you have to be upset? Is there anything you could say that would make the situation not awkward?

Jisoo's question suddenly pops into your mind, something about exclusivity that's ambiguous and if Wonwoo's doing the same to you.

He mentions he doesn't want to go but…

“I imagine it was awkward?” You manage to say at last.

“Yeah. I barely talked and I told Soonyoung I'm never doing that ever again.”

“Did he end up with that girl?”

“For a few months.” He huffs, still annoyed now that he thinks about it. “All that effort and he only dated her for a few months.”

You let out a chuckle at this, notice the way Wonwoo relaxes a little at the sound of your small laugh. 

“Do you do that a lot?” You ask in what you hope to be subtle. While the topic comes up, might as well ask him about it. “Go on dates?”

His answer is an immediate “no”; like he has something to prove to you. 

“I don't go out with girls in general.” He says, this time looking elsewhere even though your eyes stay on his face. “I don't have a lot of female friends. The few that I actually consider friends… Well, we're not close enough to hang out privately.”

“Oh?” Your voice chokes a little, your feelings overtaking your head as you say your next words. “But you don't mind hanging out with me?”

“Mhm.” He hums, presses his lips together before he continues. “You're… you.”

He doesn't explain further and you're too afraid to ask. So you steer the topic by saying you're going to wash up a bit before you head for lunch, to which Wonwoo simply smiles and nods at. He moves to the small chair by the window and tells you to take your time.

“I don't mind waiting.” He says.

You wonder why you feel like his words mean more than they really do.

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself in a restaurant nearby, seated next to Wonwoo because all the separate tables are full and only the bar ones are available.

The two of you don't address the unnecessary way you sit close next to each other. At some point, you're pretty sure Wonwoo rests his arm on the back of your chair, but you don't say anything just in case he'll pull it back.

You don't know how you feel about that realization.

Also, you don't realize how much you look like a couple until a waiter comes up to you both with a dessert you don't remember ordering.

“It's on the house.” He explains with a smile. “We're giving free desserts to couples during this month.”

The both of you spend exactly six seconds (you counted) staring at each other before you clear your throat and tell him to dig into the dessert before you eat it all.

“You can have it all.” He chuckles, knowing well enough how much you love desserts. “I'll buy you some more.”

Wonwoo's arm never leaves your chair until it's time for you to go, his finger brushes your shoulder every time you move.

You don't know how you feel about that either.

When it comes to meddling friends, you have exactly two (2) people in your circle: Kwon Soonyoung and Yoo Jimin.

You're glad the two doesn't know each other because you can already imagine the headache coming your way from their imaginary conspiracy. Handling one of them once at a time is enough headache for you already. 

Tonight, somehow they find a way to give you a giant headache at the same time even when they do not know of each other.

1 New Message(s) from Yoo Jimin🩷 on 🖤🩷🩵 & han🙂

Yoo Jimin🩷 : r u out on a date ????????

And then,

Kim Jisoo🩵 : ffs not this again🥱

Kim Jisoo🩵 : it is NOT a date unless he explicitly says it!!!!!!!!!!

Yoo Jimin🩷 : shut up lemme ship them in peace

Yoon Jeonghan💀 : lmaooooo 1000% agree w jisoo

Yoon Jeonghan💀 : put ur dream to rest, dude

Yoo Jimin🩷 : of all time for u to appear on the gc????????

Yoon Jeonghan💀 : i have rights to appear whenever i want???

🖤 : 🙂🙂🙂🙂

🖤 : im muting this group. byeeeee lol.

Kim Jisoo🩵 : this birhc???????

“Stop playing with your phone!!!” Soonyoung whines. He's been doing that since the three of you sit down, actually. “Now tell me. Any new guy.”

You don't know why he's so insistent on this topic. He knows about you and Wonwoo–or at least the lack of whatever you two have going on–so you're not sure why he keeps on asking about this except to piss you off.

“I told you there's no guy.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “Where are you getting ideas about this?”

The look in his eyes scares you a little. There are times when you do not want to cross Kwon Soonyoung and this is one of them.

“What about that guy in your group? Jeonghan, was it?” He presses on. “Isn't he handsome?”

“I don't see him as anything else but an annoyance personified.” You huff. “You know I haven't gone on dates since forever, why are you doing this?”

“Oh? Is that you asking me to introduce you to someone?”

Beside you, Wonwoo stiffens a little. 

“No! Are you drunk??” You know Soonyoung's baiting you, and despite this knowledge, his insistence is really starting to bait your annoyance.

“There's just no way you've gone on zero dates after you broke up with that asshole in uni.” This is news to Wonwoo. He knows you were in a relationship before (you weren't close at that point, but Soonyoung made sure to update him (re: whine to him) about you having a boyfriend that he didn't approve of. But he didn't know he was, well, an asshole. “It's been five years since you broke up with him!”

“Yes, thanks for highlighting how single I actually am.” You deadpan, throwing back a shot of soju. It’s not often that you drink soju, but on days like today when you haven't seen your close friends (Wonwoo and Soonyoung) in so long and Soonyoung is being persistently annoying, you need the help of alcohol to relax.

Soonyoung has the audacity to laugh, and then he follows your shot with his own before changing his target to the man beside you who's been silent the entire time.

“No worries. Wonwoo has been single for long, too.” He grins unapologetically. “I don't remember him going on dates at all. Except you haven't been telling me?!”

Wonwoo grunts softly, sipping on his soju instead. “Why would I tell you about my dates.”

Then, as if he realizes it's not the right thing to say, he adds, “But no. I haven't gone on dates in so long, either. Not everyone is like you, man.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” He mocks a victory bow and then takes a piece of the free snack the restaurant offers on your table. He has had it refilled for three times already. “You're too busy. You don't even reply to my texts.”

At this, you reply instead of Wonwoo.

“Well, that's probably because it's you. He replies to my text just fine.” You stick your tongue out at him childishly, causing Wonwoo to chuckle next to you. 

Your head is starting to get a little heavy from the alcohol, so you lean on Wonwoo as you mumble about being a little sleepy.

“You want to go back?” He whispers like a secret, not minding Soonyoung pouting about being left out.

“Nah, I'm still fine.” You grin lazily despite the way your heart is beating too fast due to his proximity. You can even feel his breath against your cheek. “You'll know when I'm gone.”

The way he looks at you sternly makes you laugh, and you just know he'll scold you about drinking responsibly so you squeeze his arm and propose a toast between the three of you.

He reluctantly takes another sip of his drink while you and Soonyoung take another shot.

The night goes on like that, with Soonyoung trying to pick a fight with both of you and losing miserably three times out of five. Wonwoo's pretty sure the two of you have finished almost three bottles of soju while he barely drinks his third glass. 

When the two of you begin to giggle uncontrollably and you start hugging his arm for support, Wonwoo knows it's time to end the night. So he pays for the bill and calls a taxi for Soonyoung and for you two. He didn't take his car, knowing well enough that the night would force him to drink alcohol.

He's not complaining, though. It's been long since he has consumed any alcohol, and spending the night with the two of you is always fun despite the way Soonyoung insists on being a pain in the ass.

Wonwoo has his arm around your waist as he takes you up to your hotel room. You're not too drunk that you can't stand up, but you're drunk enough that you cling to Wonwoo the whole time.

He's in denial and blames the way his face turns hot and his reddening ear on the alcohol and not your body pressed close to his, your lips grazing his neck everytime you move. 

When he reaches your hotel room, he wonders how to go about this. Should he leave after you get to bed? Will you be okay in the morning? He can probably sleep sitting on the small sofa in the corner of your room if he wants. But is that appropriate?

Even in your drunken stupor, you hold all the answers for him.

“Stay with me.” You say like you know what he's thinking about. Your head is still heavy on his shoulder but he doesn't mind.

He slowly sits you down on the edge of your bed and kneels to take off your shoes despite your insistence that you can do it yourself.

“Can you wash up?”

“No.”

He chuckles at how adorable you are, then hopes your drunken mind wouldn't remember the way his palm caresses your cheek because he couldn't help it.

“You'll regret it in the morning though?”

“I just want to sleep.” You make your point and throw your body back to the bed. Wonwoo laughs once again, then checks your bathroom to see that you have indeed unpacked your toiletries. 

“I can help you remove your makeup.” He offers softly, knowing how much you hate washing up after drinking but you hate it even more when you wake up and realize you didn't. “Then I'll trust you to wash your face and brush your teeth?”

Your whine doesn't really mean anything, so Wonwoo does as he says and gently wipes your face with the makeup remover wipes you manage to fish from your pouch.

It’s the first time he ever does this, but he has listened to you complain enough about this over the years. His other hand is holding your face, and no matter how dense Wonwoo could be, he's not stupid enough not to know that he would never do this for anyone ever.

That this scene can be picked straight out of a romance movie and he wouldn't be surprised.

The way you trust him in your room in your drunken state, you asking him to stay, and him helping you clean up aren't something you do with just anyone.

He's also not stupid enough not to notice the warm feeling in his chest and the tingling all over his body. As much as he wants to deny what he feels for you all these time, this one moment is not something he could ever deny.

Dare he says he enjoys it and wishes he could do this with you often moving forward—taking care of you whenever he could.

He’s not going to lie and say he never considers being bolder with you; shows his interest and makes his feelings more obvious, but he doesn’t know if he could handle the aftermath. Do you return his feelings? Wonwoo can’t tell.

He knows enough that you haven’t been dating even before Soonyoung brings it up today. That you treat him as something more than friend because he’s seen how different you act with Soonyoung and (what you mention of) Jeonghan. 

But is it just you having a different dynamic with him?

Is it the years you have between the two of you even though you weren’t close before?

”Here, have some water.” He breaks his own thoughts and hands you a glass, hopes that it’ll make you feel better.

”Thank you.” You wince a little, followed by a small yawn. “I’ll just wash up real quick., okay?”

You don’t know Wonwoo will think about this domesticity for months to come.

Expectedly, you wake up to a headache.

Unexpectedly, you also wake up to a glass of water, an aspirin, and Wonwoo moving around in your hotel room.

”Wonwoo?’ Your raspy voice startles him a little, and you would’ve laughed if not for the headache steadily hammering against your skull. 

“You’re awake?” He says softly and moves to your side and helps you drink your water. “Bad hangover?”

Your grimace answers enough, and even though he laughs a little at your misery, you can tell that he’s a little worried. It’s not often that you get drunk in front of him.

”I don’t feel like throwing up, though.” You say after swallowing the aspirin then turn to him in horror. “Or did I already throw up last night?’

Wonwoo considers pulling your leg for a bit, but decides against it when he sees how horrified you look at the prospect of it.

”Nope, you didn’t.” He assures you. “Should we go out and eat once you’re feeling good enough? There’s a good gukbap place nearby that’ll help with your hangover.”

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are seated in a corner in a busy restaurant, once again sitting side by side. It’s only ten in the morning, but, apparently, this place is famous for their hangover remedy and people often get breakfast because their gukbap is to die for.

You’re not even dressed properly, still in your pajamas with a hoodie thrown over your top. You really can’t be bothered in your and Wonwoo doesn’t seem like he minds either.

Leaning your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder yet again, you can’t help but feel like you’re taking advantage of the situation a little too much; that you’re milking the situation to your liking.

But you decide you don’t want to think much about it, that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying this moment as long as Wonwoo doesn’t say shit about it either. You feel his arm resting on the back of your chair; something the he does a lot, now that you think about it. Has he always done that before? Or is this a recent thing? You honestly can’t recall.

“Here’s your order.” The auntie manning the restaurant interrupts your thoughts, serving the godly scented gukbap in front of you and another for Wonwoo. “Here’s a jeon on the house because you two look pretty together. Enjoy.”

You blink at the recurring comment, then turn to Wonwoo with confusion. 

“Do people always offer free stuff for couples?” You frown, remembering the free dessert from yesterday. “What is this unfairness?’

Wonwoo laughs, tension leaving his body at your comments. He was concerned you were uncomfortable with the assumptions, but you seem to simply be annoyed at what it entails.

“You’re working at the Seoul office for the next four days, right?’

”Yepp. Important meetings and all that.” You say through your food. “I’ll let you know after.”

”Is it the one you told me about on the phone?”

”Yes.” You nod. “And then we leave for Changwon on… Thursday night?”

Wonwoo nods, and then cut some jeon for you to have on your small plate. 

“I already took the day off for Friday. You really don’t mind that we take the car? We can still book tickets for the train.”

”It’s been so long since I went on a road trip. Unless you don't feel like driving…?”

The sound of his chuckles brings tingles to your body, but you try to ignore it and hold your gaze on him. 

“I don't mind. I'm just worried you might be tired. It's almost a five hour drive, you know.”

You seem deep in thought, but the smile you send his way throws him off as you reassure him once again that you're fine. Though it's your next words that make his brain go a little awry for the rest of the day.

“It's also five hours with you. That's why I don't mind at all.”

Thursday evening comes and Wonwoo picks you up at the hotel. 

Soonyoung wants to come with, but his dog is sick and he has to take Latte to the vet. 

“Thanks for yesterday, by the way.” You scrunch your nose as you remember the night before. “Can't believe everyone brought their partner and didn't tell me.”

You had promised to see some of your old friends from school last night. Naturally, you expected it to be just the four of you. 

Naturally, there were three other guys on the everyone and you pulled an SOS to Wonwoo so you would't look pathetic, being the only girl on the table with no one. 

It had upset you a little, if you're being honest. It's been about three years since the four of you had hangout together, so you had been expecting to see them only.

Wonwoo seemed to immediately got your mood as he arrived, sitting right beside you (the only empty seat, of course, though there's nowhere else you'd rather he be) in midst of conversation.

It was fortunate that the restaurant isn't that far from his company, because he arrived about twenty minutes after you texted him: ten minutes to wrap up his work (he was already done for the day and had stayed around because a coworker seemed to be in a talking mood), and another ten to walk to the restaurant. 

He knew these friends, of course, having gone to the same school as you. But he didn't expect all of them to be in Seoul. Though, then again, it's not all that surprising that people would want to move to the capital city once they get older.

In the same sense, they also didn't expect you and Wonwoo to be close enough for him to attend this dinner for you.

“Oh, yeah. We only got closer a few years ago when he went to Japan for a trip.” You explain in what you hope to be a straightforward way that doesn't need further explanation. 

Your friend seems to buy this, and you're a little surprised that they don't bother about the nature of your relationship. Dinner was pleasant, you and Wonwoo found comfort in each other between familiar strangers (and actual strangers) and you had fun regardless the mishap at the beginning.

It wasn't until when you're parting ways that someone finally commented on it, and you couldn't even say anything because Hyeri sounded so sure and she didn't give you any way to rebutt.

“Didn't expect you two to end up together, but I should've known something would happen between the two of you. It was nice seeing you!!” She had said cheerfully before turning away and went on her way with her boyfriend.

After everybody left, you two looked at each other and blinked simultaneously, and then shared a laugh before Wonwoo insisted on taking you back to your hotel even though it's the farther away from his place.

None of you addressed the misunderstanding thrown your way.

“It was a good dinner though, right?” Wonwoo asks, as if the assumption Hyeri made and your nonexistent repulsion towards it didn't keep him up at night.

“Yeah, it was nice to see them after so long.” You settle on your seat after you finish pairing up your phone's audio to his car. “Anything you want to listen to?”

Wonwoo shakes his head and tells you to play whatever you want. About an hour later, his dad calls you and you accept the phone without turning off the bluetooth speaker.

“Hi, Uncle!!” You greet him happily. “You're calling me because Wonwoo isn't answering, aren't you?”

The laugh that greets you is both amused and unapologetic. But you're simply glad you're close enough with Wonwoo's family for this to happen.

“What’s up, Dad?”

“Just making sure you two are driving safely.” He answers. “I heard it's going to rain pretty heavily later, so you better stop and wait it out if that's the case.”

“Thank you for the heads up, Uncle! I'll make sure to remind Wonwoo later.

He reminds you two to take a break somewhere and to have sufficient meals that's not only composed of an ungodly amount of snacks. You share a guilty grin with each other, the pack of jelly on your hands suddenly feels a little heavy. 

You stop by one rest area to have some light meal (re: hotdog and tteokpokki) before going straight to Changwon. It's a karaoke session you're having in his car, in which you're the only one who mostly sings because Wonwoo doesn't really like to.

“You have a nice voice, why don't you sing more?” You press some time during the ride.

“Eh. Just don't really feel like doing it.”

“Hm. I like your voice, though.”

His hair covers the way the tip of his ears turn red at your confession.

You're a little hyper today, he notices. Perhaps you really are that excited over the prospect of going on a road trip even though it's dark outside and you can't really see anything on the highways. 

“You sure you didn't have any alcohol in your system?” He teases you, to which you simply hit his shoulder and continue on your little concert.

You're not the best singer, but you're not tone deaf and you carry your tune well enough, while Wonwoo's just happy to see you so cheerful.

You seem super relaxed too, and he wonders if your important meeting went well and if that's the reason why you seem like the weight is off your shoulders.

Not long after, the rain starts. And, surely enough, it gets harder and harder to the point where Wonwoo has to slow down just to make sure the car is going safe and sound. Fortunately, you two find a rest area soon enough and you decide to rest for a bit as you wait out the rain.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon, though. So you ask if it’s okay for you to drink a can of beer that he can’t share because he’s driving. Wonwoo lets you, of course, you seem like you want to properly enjoy this ambiance and he doesn’t have any reason not to let you relax more.

Forty minutes pass just like that; with you facing each other in his car, soft music playing in the background as the rain steadily falls against the window. You talk about anything and everything, your can of beer turns into three, and even though it’s not enough to make you drunk, it’s definitely enough to make your lips a little looser as the topic shifts to relationships.

”Wonwoo?’” You ask timidly, though you know you can’t stop yourself now. The question has been bugging you since the moment you heard him say it. “Can I ask you something?”

”Of course.” He answers, a little confused.

”Why… me?”

For a second, you can see his startled face, but he schools it real quick that you wouldn’t have caught it if you aren’t already staring at him.

”What?”

”You told me before that you don’t like hanging around with your female friends.” You recall your conversation a few days ago. “But not me. Why?”

You let Wonwoo take his moment to gather his words, but as seconds pass by and the ringing of your heart is echoing against your ears, you start to think if it’s a bad idea to ask him this when you two have nowhere to escape.

“Nev—”

“Because you’re you.” He repeats his answers from that day. But this time, he moves forward with his explanation, the gentle look in his eyes makes your heartbeat stutter. “I don’t have any reason that I can offer. But you’re you and I like being with you.”

“Wha—?”

”I just like that it’s you.” He says with finality. Like it answers what you asked instead of blooming more questions.

This time, it’s Wonwoo that lets you take a moment to digest his words. It’s his turn to wonder if it’s not the time to be honest about his feelings. But if not now, he feels like he would take an even longer time to gather his courage yet again and spending time with you the past few days have made him sure about his feelings—that he can no longer deny them and he owes you that much if that’s what you’re asking no matter what the outcome would be.

He thinks back of the people that mistake you for being together; the way you don’t seem to mind and simply smile abashedly at them. The way you clung into him in your drunken stupor, how smitten he is that he actually stayed when you asked him to even though you probably don’t remember saying anything about it. The way your eyes twinkle with every single constellation he could think of. 

And most importantly, how much he feels complete in your presence. How content his heart is and how there’s nothing more he could wish for than to have you close.

He’d be downright stupid if he continues to deny his feelings for you at this point.

”Why now?” You ask quietly, and he can only be a little relieved that you don’t sound repulsive at his confession.

He’s not sure how to answer your question though. But if there’s one thing he knows, being honest is always the answer.

“I was afraid.” He pauses, pressing his lips together as he looks up at your eyes. “That I’m not good enough for you. That I can’t give you what you need with the distance between us and all.” 

“What changed?”

”I realized something.”

”And what is that?”

“That I’d rather try giving you what you need than not be able to try at all.” His voice is firm as he says this, and even though your question has been rather sudden, it feels like he’s always had the answer deep inside. “That I’ve always had you by my side without I even realize and I don’t want to take it for granted.”

”Do you remember Byul?” You ask out of nowhere, making a roller coaster out of his feelings.

”Your old dog?”

”Yep.” You smile sadly at the memory of her. Byul died when you were in junior high school. You cried for days and weren’t yourself for weeks. It was the first time you ever faced loss; the first time you ever felt like something important was taken from your life. “I was looking through my old pictures and found a bunch of her pictures. Do you know you have a picture with her?”

Wonwoo does not. You smile at his surprised face and show him the exact picture you were talking about. Wonwoo must have been ten at most, still wearing his uniform with Byu sleeping soundly on his lap. He’s also asleep in the picture, his fingers buried in her fur craved forever in that very picture.

”There was this time when she was a little depressed. She just kept on looking at the door even though everyone was home.” Wonwoo doesn’t see where this conversation is going, but he silently encourages you to continue and makes sure you know he’s listening. “We tried bringing her to the doctor, but it didn’t help. It’s only when you stopped by that we realized she was looking for you. You went on a vacation with your family for the whole summer, and when you came back she finally returned to her usual self and I remember feeling a little betrayed when she jumped happily for the first time the moment you came through the door.”

”I never knew…” He says quietly, suddenly memories of your dog popping into his head. He remembers being quite upset when he heard the news of Byul dying. She was his family’s dog too by extension, and it only made him sad now that he realized he only has one picture with her. “I did play with her a lot, didn’t I?”

”You did. You were around enough that my dog missed you when you’re not there.” You chuckle to yourself. “Do you remember taking me home everyday for a whole month after she died?’

You laugh at his surprised face. You did expect him to not remember this part, but you did—because it meant a lot to you that Wonwoo took the effort to care for you in his own way when you’re not even really friends.

”We used to go home together from time to time. But you waited for me in front of our school gate everyday for a whole month, only stopping once you realized I was feeling better. You’d give me ice cream and candies too.” Wonwoo notices the way your eyes water a little the more you talk about that time, but when he tries to ask you why you’re suddenly talking about this, you barrel through another topic. “There was also a time in high school when you helped me hide from my parents because I fought big time with my sister. That was the first time I ever had a screaming row with her, you know? I don’t even know why we were fighting. But I remember crying so much that you didn’t know what to do.”

This one Wonwoo remembers. He can still picture you crying in his room, his panicked eyes not sure what to do except to lie when your mom texted him to ask if he’d seen you. He had lamely offered you a box of tissues and stayed by your side without doing much.

”I appreciated it, you know? That you were there with me, not asking questions and not trying to comfort me.” You clear your throat and finally return his gaze. He can’t tell what you’re going to say next and his head is a little dizzy from the change of topic. Is this your way of turning him down? By talking about something else and pretending that nothing happened? “My point is… I tried thinking about a time when I don’t have you around and… I can’t.

We weren’t the bestest of friends and you weren’t my number one person, but you’re always there. When my dad asked you to teach me how to ride the bike instead of my older siblings, you did it without saying anything. When I failed calculus and my mom made you tutor me, you didn’t get frustrated even once when I took long to get it. When I broke up with my first boyfriend and I cried so much I didn’t realize it was already dark, it was you who found me in that park and brought me home. When I got the scholarship to Japan, you sent me off all the way to the airport even though my closest friends didn’t.”

Wonwoo seems a little flustered at your words, and you hold back the urge to tease him and finally, finally let your heart take the rein.

”You’ve always been there for me even before all of this. You’re the one person that I just know will continue to be in my life no matter what.” When your palm meets his cheek, Wonwoo melts a little at your gentle touch, your smile crumbling his being with little effort. “Can I trust you to do that?”

”Is that even a question?” He answers quietly, wonders if you can hear the loud beating of his heart in this proximity. “I used to have a small crush on you, you know?”

”What?”

”Yeah, during high school. I’ve always thought you were pretty, anyway. But you got a boyfriend and I realized it was nothing but a fleeting crush.” He grins at the way you’re continuously blinking at his revelation. “Never knew I’d end up liking you again years later, though. But you just have to live abroad and I’m not sure how it’ll work out even if you return my feelings. I’m a bad texter and even worse when it comes to calling. I can fix those habits, sure, but… I don’t think I can fix it in a short span of time, and I want to give you everything you deserve. So I never really try anything even though I abstained from going on dates and—”

”Wonwoo?”

”Yeah?”

”You talk too much.” You say before you close your lips over his, the way his arm immediately finds your waist and his other hand holds the back of your neck make your body comes alive; like a missing puzzle that you didn’t know was missing clicks into place and makes everything make sense. He pulls you closer, and even though it’s uncomfortable, you let him. 

Time works in a funny way when you’re with him, so even if you’re sure it’s only seconds that you spent kissing him, it surely feels like hours and more.

”I have to tell you something.” You whisper when you pull away, his warm breath hitting your face.

”Hm?”

”I’m moving to Seoul.” You announce in one go. “That’s what the important meeting is about. I asked if they had a vacant spot for a transfer to the main branch and they’re letting me transfer to Seoul.”

”For good?” He asks like he doesn’t believe it. Like it’s too good to be true.

Perhaps it is.

”For good.” You grin, your arms circle his neck despite the uncomfortable position you two are in. Your smile gets wider as Wonwoo kisses you again, and you laugh when you put one of your hands on his chest, his heart beating so quickly you’re worried it might jump out of his body. “Jisoo’s going to kill me when she finds out I’m moving in three months and I let you kiss me like this.”

”Oh?” He asks teasingly, one of his brows in question. “You let me kiss you?’

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feign innocence. “Is there anyone here that can say otherwise?”

”Me?”

”Duh. You think Jisoo will believe you?” You roll your eyes jokingly. “They’ve been wanting to meet you, by the way. Jisoo and Jeonghan will grill you so bad.”

”You talk about your friends to me?”

”How can I not when you’re confusing me?”

”Was that how it felt?” He asks softly. “Like I was confusing you?”

You contemplate your next words, but then decide that there’s nothing to hide from what your friends said about him.

”They say you’re stringing me along. Because you’re obviously interested but not try to officially ask me out on a date.”

”You want to go on a date tomorrow?” He asks seriously, which turns your heart into mush because this man can’t get more precious than he already is. “I can think of a few places for us to go to.”

This isn’t where you expect the conversation to go, but you happily agree and ask him to surprise you. That you will contemplate on being his girlfriend if he does well.

”Oh? Aren’t you already my girlfriend the moment you kissed me?” He grins teasingly, a giddy filling bubbles up in his chest at the mention of you being his girlfriend.

”I’m not that easy.” You huff. “I’ll let you know tomorrow if you pass the test.”

Wonwoo laughs and pulls you into another kiss, his heart ballooning in size at the sound of your squeal followed by your giggle, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

He’ll go through a thousand tests if it’s for you, no question asked. 

a/n: i lov him so much.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

[mocchiixxx]

Seventeen (세븐틴) One-shot Section

Author's Note: A collection of SEVENTEEN x Reader one-shots—individual and group stories filled with love, longing, and unforgettable moments. Requests is open!

Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)🍒

Center of Attention

Lalali Tease

Devoted to You (Yandere Scoups) Part II Last Part

The Leader's Weakness

Welcome Home cheater

The Anchor In His Storm

One Slap, One Kiss

Yoon Jeonghan (Hannie) 😇

Sugar, Spice, and Too Many Kisses

164 Days Without You

Jelousy, Jelousy

Taming the Lioness

96ers and my Stupid idiot

Hong Jisoo (Joshua) 🦌

A Match Made in Chaos

Sunshine, Multiplied

Maybe Three?

Ink in the Spotlight

Moon Junhui (Jun) 🐱

A Taste of Home

Love in Every Little Thing

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) 🐯

Instant Assistant Choreographer— Secret weapon

Tiny but Mighty Love

You're Soonyoung's Everything

Jeon Wonwoo (Wonu) 🐈‍⬛

Ranked First, You Second—Wait, No, You First

Wait for me Okay?

The Chaos He Fell For

“Love, Wonwoo”

Lee Jihoon (Woozi) 🍚

Unexpected Muse

Double the Trouble

His Grumpy but Cute Love

Xū Minghao (The8) 🐸

Masterpiece in Progress

Chaos meets Serenity

Kim Mingyu (Gyu) 🐶

Double Trouble, Extra Cute

Silence meets Chaos

Lost & Found

Birthday Bombshell

Lee Seokmin (DK) ⚔️

Knight in Shining Armor

Softyly, With You

Sunshine's Serenity

Boo Seungkwan (Kwannie) 🍊

��� MVP (Most Valuable Partner)

🍊 Unexpected Duo

Chwe Hansol (Vernon) 🐢

🐢 Opposites Attract

Twice the trouble, twice the love

Lee Chan (Dino) 🦦

🦦 In Every Move, I See You

🦦 Step In Sync

Seventeen's Series:

💍Seventeen's Ways to say 'I Do!' One Shot Series(✓) 💎 Seventeen (OT13) (Yandere)

• Love or Legacy SEVENTEEN (세븐틴) Angst Series(✓)

⛓️ La Mia Fuga (My Escape) Seventeen Yandere Series (✓)

• The Art Of Letting Go Seventeen ANGST Series (Coming Soon~)

• Seventeen's 95z Yandere One-Shot Trilogy

[icyminghao]

workplace crush

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, workplace!au warning(s): brief mentions of food word count: 1k

summary: jeon wonwoo, also known as the company’s “IT Department Crush”, doesn’t seem to faze you in the slightest, much to your best friend’s dismay.

a/n: meant to be the couple from here, but can also be read as a standalone

“Oh my god! There he is again, look!” Minhee, your childhood best friend and current colleague at work, exclaims suddenly, tapping your arm with a newfound fervor.

“Who?” you deadpan, poking at your lunch with your fork.

“It’s Jeon Wonwoo! Sejeong really wasn’t kidding when she said he was the IT Department’s eye-candy,”

The name raises an eyebrow, but you’re quick to shake it off and regain control of your poker face.

��Jeon Wonwoo, huh? He looks okay,” you reply without turning to look at the subject of the conversation.

“Just okay? Come on, y/n! Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t admit that Mr. White Button-down over there is hot as shit,” Minhee scoffs in amusement as she urges you to sneak a glance at the man of the hour. Deciding to appease your friend, you turn around to do just that and find the acclaimed Jeon Wonwoo sitting at a nearby table with a few other people, presumably his colleagues. He’s dressed in a white button-down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of navy-blue jeans, and to top it all off, he’s sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses you’ve never seen anyone pull off better than him.

“My boyfriend’s hotter,” you shrug, going back to eating your food. Minhee purses her lips in thought at the response.

“Is he? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him,” she muses.

“You haven’t? No way,” you respond immediately, quick to wave off Minhee’s observation.

“What do you mean, ‘no way’? You haven’t introduced your boyfriend to any of us! I’ve been dying to see who exactly met your sky-high standards,” Minhee whines, much to your amusement.

“You’d be surprised,” you chuckle and look up to see that Minhee’s attention has been diverted to something (or someone) behind you.

“Pause. Don’t look, but Mr. IT Department Crush is coming our way right now,” Minhee’s voice drops an octave as she whispers through gritted teeth, eyes widened in warning. You suppress an amused smile at her behaviour and watch as a certain Jeon Wonwoo takes a seat beside you. All the while, Minhee looks on the situation with a wide-open mouth as you try your hardest to hold in your laughter.

“Hey, y/n,” Wonwoo greets you as he settles down, then turns to nod at Minhee, who nods back in equal parts confusion and awe, “Jeonghan was wondering whether you wanted to join us for karaoke night later?”

“Sorry, Wonwoo, but I have plans with Minhee tonight. Maybe next time?” you frown apologetically at having to reject Wonwoo’s proposal, but he simply nods in response, flashing you the smallest of smiles in return.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you later?” he hums in response before nodding once again at Minhee in greeting and leaving, presumably to return to his colleagues at the IT Department.

Silence ensues as you and Minhee blink at each other for a solid minute or so, before Minhee lets out a huge breath and breaks the silence.

“Did you just… have a whole conversation with the IT Department Crush? You never told me you knew him!” Minhee whisper-shouts, slapping your arm lightly for dramatic effect. You rub your arm and feign an injury, to which Minhee simply pouts at you in response.

“You never asked!” you reason.

“No wonder you didn’t bat an eye when I talked about him!” Minhee huffs, crossing her arms as she squints at you. You shrug, bursting into laughter at Minhee’s behaviour.

“Whatever. My girlfriend’s hotter, anyway.”

“y/n…” Minhee suddenly drawls halfway through your meal with her, and you hum in amusement.

“Earlier, what did IT Department Crush mean by ‘see you later’? You’ve been with me the whole time since lunch break and we’re off work now,” Minhee furrows her eyebrows in thought, and you tilt your head in confusion, trying to recall the interaction.

“He did? Must have been a slip of the tongue,” you shrug nonchalantly, and Minhee leans forward, putting on a look that you know she always puts on whenever she’s about to analyse something (or someone).

“The two of you seem close,” she muses, clearly suspicious, much to your amusement.

“You could say that,” you hum, pursing your lips together. Minhee purses her lips together in thought before shrugging in response.

“Eh. Anyway, did you see the boss’s new outfit today? I’m dying to know where she got it from,” your best friend is quick to change the topic, and the subject of a certain eye-candy of the IT Department is quickly forgotten for the rest of the dinner with Minhee.

“How are you going home tonight? We could give you a ride, my girlfriend’s coming soon.” Minhee asks after the both of you had stepped out of the restaurant, greeted by the glittering moonlight shining down on the streets bustling with nightlife.

“Oh, it’s okay, my boyfriend’s coming over,” you politely reject Minhee’s offer just as a white sedan pulls up in front of you. Minhee sighs.

“There goes my chance of meeting your mystery of a boyfriend,” Minhee fake-whines, “I’ll see you next week, okay? Let us see him soon!”

“Yeah, yeah, I will!” you chuckle, waving Minhee and her girlfriend goodbye as they drive off, leaving you alone on the street.

Shortly after, you hear the familiar roar of an engine, and your boyfriend pulls up in his navy blue coupe, rolling down the passenger window to send you a greeting smile.

“Hey, darling,” you greet as you enter his car, settling down before looking at him in entirety. He’s still wearing the same white button-down from earlier, but his hair looks a bit tousled as compared to how neat it was just this morning. You reach forward and ruffle his locks just because.

“How was today?” Wonwoo grins at the touch, giving you a small peck on the cheek before driving again.

“Well, I heard from Minhee that you’ve garnered quite the reputation in the company,” you decide to tease him.

“I have?” Wonwoo replies, confused.

“They call you the IT Department Crush,” you explain, watching him closely for a reaction.

“I guess that’s pretty accurate, considering you had a crush on me,” Wonwoo chuckles, reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh affectionately.

“You had a crush on me first! Must I remind you how Soonyoung-”

“Okay, baby, you win,” Wonwoo concedes, “I had a crush on you first.”

“It’s okay, darling,” you giggle, “We had a crush on each other.”

Wonwoo groans. “You’re lame.”

a/n 2: 230926 jeon wonwoo you will be the death of me (also this was pretty bad i’m sorry lol)

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli

masterlist

[pepperonidk]

To.You || Jeon Wonwoo

Summary: Jeon Wonwoo isn’t great with words, but he can write a damn good song. When his psych project partner turns out to be you, the person who’s been stuck in his head, he figures writing songs about you is safer than getting too close. But between late-night gigs and stolen moments, he starts to wonder if distance is overrated. Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x gn!Reader Genre: college!au, band!au, guitarist!wonwoo

A/N: i'm back! kinda lol. I wrote this for a different fandom on my main, and the plot was just too good not to adapt it to wonwoo... my muse. pls forgive my very random grouping of svt members.

start: 2024.12.13 end: sometime before Christmas lol

send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged!

masterlist || playlist

I. i wish that you and i lived in the sims ↳ (Sims; Lauv)

II. the song’s about to start (can you feel it?) ↳ (Buzz; Niki)

III. tell me your favorite love song ↳ (Completely; Jaehyun)

IV. 'til there was you ↳ ('Til There was You; Imaginary Future)

V. you know i got a soft spot for you ↳ (Soft Spot; Keshi)

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Whatever You Want [Part Two]

💎Who: Jeon Wonwoo (Seventeen) x female reader 💎What: Mafia/gang au. Dark themes (check warnings). Angst. Fluff. Humour. Strangers to friends to lovers. Suggestive (18+). 💎Word count: 14.4k (31.8k total) 💎Warnings: Violence mentions. Injury and blood mentions. Mentions of hospitalisations. Morally grey characters. Alcohol consumption (nobody gets drunk at all). Suggestive dialogue. Wonwoo is a handful of years older than reader. Minor character death. 💎Summary: “To be honest, you’re surprised it’s taken this long to happen. Truly, you thought you would’ve been kidnapped years ago, so you’re not surprised when it happens.

What does surprise you, however, is the reason why, and what happens when you meet that reason.”

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist Part One

A/N- Thank you again to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading and helping me out with the warnings! I appreciate you endlessly, my love 💗

The day after your confession, things are awkward. 

You both obviously can’t help but remember the conversation; remember that you both essentially admitted to wanting each other, at least on a purely physical level. Of course, Wonwoo’s gift implied that his attraction runs deeper than that, but you hadn’t shared your part and have no intention of doing so either. But Wonwoo is a smart man; he has to know that he’s not alone in this.

Although you try to stick to your newly normal routine of cooking and gaming together every evening, Wonwoo takes longer to clean up than usual, and you’re the one who goes to bed first now, even if you’re not tired enough and lay in bed wide awake for hours, unaware that Wonwoo is doing the same thing down the hall.

There’s something growing in the air now that your shared attraction has met it from your own mouths, and neither of you really know how to navigate it. It’s a new situation for you both, and it takes a few days before things get back to normal.

At least, normal in the way that Wonwoo has pulled back and doesn’t follow you around when he’s home to ask you questions, but there’s a new tension, and his dark gaze lingers on you in a way that he’s never let it before.

The other new thing is that Wonwoo is usually present these days when you wander down to the kitchen once you’re properly awake, and you ignore the fact that he’s clearly adjusted his workdays to time his lunch break to be at home when you get up.

Sometimes, he even has lunch waiting for you. Usually, it’s something he’s picked up on his way home; but today, there’s a covered pan on the table, empty bowls in your usual seats, and Wonwoo is at the other end of the table, reading some papers with a couple of open files on the table in front of him. 

Without a word, as soon as he hears you entering the room, he puts down the papers as he gets up. He moves around the table and removes the lid from the pan so that he can serve both of you a generous portion of the still steaming pasta dressed in a red sauce, which you know is spicy from looking alone. You haven’t taught him a spicy pasta sauce, so either Wonwoo has decided to experiment today, or he’s recreated a recipe he found online.

As he puts your bowl back down into your place, he finally looks up at your still sleep puffy expression and muses, “Do you really get up this late every day?” 

You give him a flat look as you sit. “Unless you killed your wife, don’t try to ride my dick,” you retort, effectively ending the conversation. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes as he puts the lid back on the pan then sits down. He waits until you try the food and make a sound of approval before he digs into his own portion with a proud little smile tugging his lips upwards.

As you eat in a comfortable quiet, you can’t help but glance over to the files and papers still laid on the table, almost perfectly legible from your place. You know it’s all work related; you’ve seen Wonwoo with files like this many times, but he’s never before left them open around you. 

Before today, he’s always been so careful about not letting you see whatever he’s working on, and you always assumed it’s due to a mix of it not being your business and Wonwoo trying to protect you from all of that. Yet now, you’re suddenly thinking that it wasn’t you he was protecting but himself, the gang he is loyal to and plans to run one day. You’re suddenly thinking that it was more that he didn’t trust you to keep whatever you see safe, keep him safe; but now, he does. 

You look away as soon as the thought comes to your mind. You don’t want to think about that; how much trust he must have in you to give you ample opportunity to spy on things related to his work, without a hint of concern on his features as he eats his lunch.

So that you don’t unintentionally linger on the thought, you bring up something you’ve been thinking about for a few days now, but things have been too awkward to want to ask. “We’re in June now, right?” 

Wonwoo looks up at you and nods in confirmation. “Just a bit, why?” 

“The deadline to let me go is quickly approaching. Either you need to let me go by the 10th or give me my phone back, because I’m expecting a very important call.” 

“The 10th?” You hum and nod as you focus on stabbing some pasta with your fork. “It’s the 12th today,” he informs you simply. 

Immediately, you freeze, then look up at him. “Tell me you’re joking,” you murmur.

“No.” 

“I swear if this is a joke-” you warn as panic rises in you. 

“I’m not joking, it’s really the 12th, look,” he insists and pulls his phone from his trouser pocket to hand over to you, so that you can see the date on the lock screen. 

Fear grows in you, and you feel the blood rush out of your cheeks, turning your skin pale. 

“What? What’s so important about the call?” Wonwoo asks, worry filling his veins as he looks at the genuine panic on your features.

“I need to go home right now,” you declare, scrambling to your feet. 

“What?” Wonwoo jumps up to rush after you to the entrance hall.

“I need to go home, Wonwoo!” You’re still in your pyjamas, but you don’t care as you shove your sockless feet into your shoes, which haven’t been touched since you arrived, except to be moved when you want to clean the floor under them or wipe away the dust that tries to settle on top of them.

“What’s going on?” 

“Just unlock the door so I can leave; it’s better you keep as far away from me as possible,” you warn, walking to the door and motioning to the lock impatiently.

“I’m not doing that until you explain,” Wonwoo argues firmly.

“No!” you exclaim and turn to walk over and shove him a little; it’s not hard in any way, but it shocks him enough to stumble back a few steps with wide eyes. “I’m fucking sick of this shit; pretending that you have any power over me, Jeon Wonwoo! I’m done with it! I should’ve never let it go on this long but I…” you trail off and shake your head, already turning back to the door.

“You what?” he asks, voice quieter as if he knows that whatever you stopped yourself saying is important.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, just unlock the door,” you insist, not turning to look at him as you anxiously shuffle your weight from foot to foot.

“But-” 

“I said unlock it!” You almost shriek, looking over at him with something so manic in your eyes, that although he’s reluctant to do so, he does as you say; he’s too worried by how wild you look right now, by whatever it is you’re hiding. 

As soon as the door is open, you take off sprinting down the hall, leaving Wonwoo watching you go, feeling like he’s just lost the best thing he’s had in a long time. And there’s nothing he can do to bring you back.

It takes you a few hours to get to your apartment. You have to tap into skills that you haven’t wanted to use in years, to pickpocket unsuspecting people to gather money for transportation. Plus, you have to actually find the buses you need in order to get to your apartment, which is quite the ordeal when you have no phone to look up bus schedules or directions, and people aren’t that willing to help a desperate looking woman wearing ruffled pyjamas in the late afternoon. A few people even try to convince you to let them take you to the police station, thinking you’re in trouble or mentally unwell and in need of professional assistance.

The sun is threatening to set by the time you stumble into your apartment. 

It looks the same as you left it, minus the items Wonwoo collected for you, which surprises you. You thought it’d be dusty as hell when you return, but it looks like someone’s kept it clean. For a second, you wonder if Wonwoo has been cleaning it, or perhaps hired someone to keep it clean, but that doesn’t make sense as he seemed to have no intention of letting you leave. Still, you don’t know anyone else who has access to your apartment. 

Deciding that it’s really not important at all right now, you push the thought aside and grab a sharp knife from the kitchen. Once you’ve pulled the couch away from the wall far enough to give you easy access to the back of it, you drop to your knees and use the knife to cut open the back of the couch. 

Out of the hollow of the couch frame, you pull out a duffle bag to put on the floor before you and open. You ignore the cash within, the various ID and collection of sentimentally and financially valuable items and grab the outdated mobile phone. As you hold down the power button to turn the device on, you mutter prayers to a god you don’t believe in to let the battery be high enough to boot. 

As soon as the screen lights up and shows that there is enough battery to make a call, you let out a breath of relief and dial one of the very few numbers that you know by heart, before holding it to your ear with your heart hammering anxiously against your ribs.

The call rings a handful of times before it’s picked up by a voice that is so familiar to you, even when it’s been months without hearing it. “Princess, you’re okay?”

You let out a little relieved breath before answering, “I’m fine, dad, things just…” You sigh. “I’m okay. Where-where are you? Are you…” you worry, knowing exactly what kind of hell your father can and will rain down on the world without hesitation if he thinks something has happened to you, his little girl.

“Where do you think I am? I came to find you! My daughter didn’t answer our routine check in call, and her phone is off?” He scoffs as if it’s ridiculous that you’ve even asked. It is, really; you already know where he is, knew what he’d do if you missed the call. But still, you hoped. You foolishly hoped because now, now you have something to lose from his fierce protectiveness of you. “Of course I came to find you! I feared the worst, and when I got here and had your whereabouts tracked, I found out that this hoity toity little bitch had you kidnapped, and then her husband ran off with you?” 

In a split second, your whole body turns cold. Fear freezes your lungs and locks your heart in its icy grip. “Dad…who are you with?” 

“Who do you think?”

You close your eyes tight and put your free hand over them, mind already conjuring up images of what your father is doing to Wonwoo. “Don’t hurt him,” you plead. 

“He stole you and kept you locked up for almost three months! I’m not going to let him get away with that.”

 “No, please, dad, please don’t hurt him, please,” your voice turns desperate, enough that your father is audibly thrown.

There’s a moment of shocked silence before he responds in a disbelieving mumble, “What?” He clearly walks out of the room, as there’s the sound of a door opening and closing, before he talks again, “You’re begging, why?” 

“He protected me from her; took me away to keep me safe from his psychotic wife,” you inform, trying to reason with the man by telling him that Wonwoo protected you; that he isn’t the one who caused you harm. “I don’t give a fuck what you do to her, but please, don’t hurt him.” 

“Bit late for that, Princess,” he responds simply.

You can’t talk for a few long seconds as the worst-case scenario travels through your body, and the ice coating your heart starts to seep inside, threatening to freeze it so thoroughly it’ll shatter into a thousand pieces. “Is he dead?” you can barely get the words out; you’re talking in a whisper that you’re not certain is audible on the other end of the line, but it is.

“No, but the boys are enjoying beating the shit out of him for kidnapping their sister.”

It settles you greatly, and now that you’re thawing a little, anger is starting to rise in you knowing that your brothers have come along too. You understand your father doing so; he’s always been protective of you as his youngest child, his little princess who can do no wrong. Yet, he’s always trusted you to handle yourself and gives you more freedom than he gives his sons. But your brothers have always overstepped; have always butted in and treated you like a fragile little doll who can’t even stand on your own feet without a support around your waist keeping you upright. They act like they are that support, but they’ve always been more like shackles holding you back by not allowing you to do what you need to on your own; not trusting you to do it on your own.

“Do you really think so lowly of me to think I couldn’t get away whenever I wanted?” you hiss in disbelief at your father, of all people, not having faith in your abilities, even if you’ve proven yourself many times. “He left me all alone in that apartment to do what I want for hours and days at a time. I had opportunity to leave; I just wanted to see how long he’d keep it up.” 

It’s the truth; from day one, you could’ve left the moment Wonwoo was gone. You had eyed the security system and knew you could disable it without setting off the alarm; you’ve broken in and out of places with similar systems many times in the past. 

But you had been kind of bored with how quiet your life had been since you left your hometown last year, to play pretend at a normal lifestyle with no connection to the gang world. You wanted to see the other side of the fence. But it turns out, it’s fucking boring on grass not fed on blood, and so you had decided that being Wonwoo’s hostage was a potentially fun change and wanted to see how long he’d stick it out before sending you home. 

You never expected to become attached to him though. 

As if reading your mind, your father speaks in a curious, surprised query, “And now you like him?” 

“I don’t dislike him,” you mutter, not willing to admit it to your father. 

“I’ll make a deal with you, Princess,” the man decides after a short, thoughtful noise. “You come back home with us, and I’ll let your pretty boy live.” 

“You promised to never blackmail me, dad,” you remind him. 

“It’s not blackmail, but a deal.” 

“You just threatened to kill him if I don’t comply!” 

“I won’t kill him, but I’ll let your brothers do it, and the longer we stay on call discussing it, the more likely they are to make the final blow without me present. Decide whether you care more about his life or playing poor girl with no family more.” 

When he puts it like that, you don’t have a choice. You know that your brothers won’t stop unless your father steps in and gives the order to pull back; an order he won’t give unless sparing Wonwoo benefits him directly.

You give in with a frustrated exclamation, “Fuck, fine! But make sure he doesn’t fucking die, or I’ll fucking kneecap them all,” you threaten; words you will hold to, brothers or not.

“That’s my girl.”

The next time you see Wonwoo, it’s late that night and not in person. You don’t dare risk getting close to him, even if he’s unconscious in a hospital bed. You send one of your father’s men, a man who is endlessly loyal to you specifically due to being in love with you since you were teens, to sneak into the hospital, dress up as staff, and make his way into Wonwoo’s private and very well guarded room to get you a proof of life video.

You hate the video; hate how you can barely recognise the bruised and swollen features of the man you’ve spent almost three months with and know it was done in your name. You truly hate it, yet you can’t stop watching the video; eyes glued to the gentle, regular rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, even if it’s assisted by the tube down his throat right now. But he’s alive; your father stopped your brothers in time, and Wonwoo is alive. That’s all that matters. 

“Can I have my phone back now, ma’am?” Jihoon asks, hovering awkwardly in the fancy hotel suite that your father is making you stay in; so that his men stationed around the building to guard your family, will alert him if you try to run off. 

Not that you will when you know your brothers and father would immediately go to that hospital room and finish the job if you go back on your word. Plus, you’re a woman of your word; you said you’d return to your hometown with them, and you intend to stick to that promise. You were raised with too much honour to ever go back on your word, especially when it’s so important, when the risk is far too high.

Jihoon’s gaze keeps flickering to the door, knowing that your father, his boss, will be pissed if he finds Jihoon in your suite, even if you’re both in the lounge and not the bedroom. But still, there are rules to working for your family, and one of those rules is ‘keep your hands off of the boss’ little girl.’ A few times, men less wise, men newer to the gang, haven’t heeded the warning and have tried to hit on you or put a suggestive hand on your body somewhere, only to lose the hand or tongue that tried to tempt you into their beds. But Jihoon is smarter, he knows better, and he’s never tried his luck with you, even if everyone knows how he feels about you. 

If any of the men are trusted with you as much as your family, it’s Jihoon. Your father always assigns Jihoon to accompany you when the need arises for someone to watch your back so closely. Your father knows that if anyone is as invested in your safety as the family is, it’s Jihoon. 

Yet still, even knowing he is trusted with your safety entirely, Jihoon knows that it’s the only way he’s trusted with your body, and he’s certainly not trusted with your heart. So, he knows that if he’s caught in your private room so late at night and alone without it being on your father’s strict orders, Jihoon will be in a lot of trouble.

“No, I’m watching,” you reply firmly, leaving no room for argument, so Jihoon just nods and stands in anxious wait. 

After a few more watches, you sigh and offer Jihoon his phone back. 

He quickly moves forward to accept it politely. “Thank you, ma’am. Do you need anything else from me tonight?”

“No. Thank you, Jihoon.” 

“Of course. I’d do anything for you,” he reminds simply. There’s a lot of weight to his words, technically, but he says them so effortlessly; like he isn’t promising you the world if you ask for it. He always makes it seem so easy to love you; like it makes all the sense in the world to devote himself to your safety and happiness and even risk his own safety by sneaking behind your father’s back to do things like this for you. 

Honestly, you think that at this point, your father and brothers must know that Jihoon has been in your house many times when only you’re home, at your request, despite the orders that none of the gang are allowed to do as much. But they know the man will never do a thing wrong to you; that he respects you too much to ever try to force himself on you or convince you to be with him in any way. He’s had over a decade to try and hasn’t done so once, even when you bluntly asked him what he expected his love for you to gain him. He had said, ‘Nothing, I expect nothing. I love you of my own choice, not yours; it’s not your problem.’ And it was left at that. 

But your family will never give him permission to be near you privately, except for jobs, because they don’t want him to potentially get ideas. They want to protect you in every way, including the way others perceive you. Knowing that you let a man below your status touch you intimately, let one of your father’s men touch you, it would bring shame on your name. If not for that, you know Jihoon would be allowed to be by your side as much as he wants, because you wouldn’t turn away his platonic company. Jihoon may be the closest thing you have to a friend, or at least, was.

Suddenly, you’re thinking about Sangmin and how, with Wonwoo in hospital unable to stick to his word to keep an eye on the man, and you in an entirely different city, there’s no one to look out for him. You can’t take him with you, you never want to bring the kind-hearted man into your world, so you need to come up with a plan to protect him.

“Actually, I have one more thing to ask of you tonight, Jihoon.”

“Anything,” he promises, and you know he means it.

In the morning, once you’re strapped into the back of the car, and Jihoon is driving the pair of you to your apartment, for you to clear everything out that is tied to you and end the lease, Jihoon hands a brand-new phone to you. He’s already charged it and set it up with a web page open on screen, showing an apartment. 

“That’s the best bet; it’s neutral territory, but the landlord has some shit in his records. That means it’ll be easy to twist his arm,” he informs as you look through the apartment listing, humming as he talks.

“Good work, Ji. Did you find him?”

“Of course I did,” he scoffs cockily, making you look up and smile as you look at the side of his face from your place behind the passenger seat. “Are you doubting my abilities to track people? Do you forget who taught you everything you know about tech?”

“I think there’s supposed to be a ‘ma’am’ in there somewhere,” you remind him teasingly.

“Do you forget who taught you everything you know about tech, ma’am?” he corrects without missing a beat, in a playful tone that he only brings out when it’s just the two of you, and he’s not worried about being caught with you when he’s not supposed to be. Today, he’s with you under your father’s orders directly, so Jihoon is relaxed and his usual, playful self. Your friend. 

“Like I could ever forget, my genius little tech nerd,” you coo and lean forward to pinch his cheek.

“Hey!” he complains, reaching back to nudge you away and also make you settle back in your place safely. Though, there’s a smile on his face, and you’re only now remembering how much you enjoy spending time with Jihoon. You’re only now realising that you missed him.

Knowing it will fluster him; you decide to tell him as much. “I missed you, Jihoonie.”

“Ah.” As expected, Jihoon’s ears and the back of his neck immediately darken, spreading a fierce blush over his cheek and even to his cheeks. “I missed you too,” he responds quietly, shy yet pleased with your confession. “I’m glad you’re back, ma’am.”

“I’ll cook dinner for us once we’re back home, and you can catch me up on everything that I’ve missed the past year, yeah?”

“That sounds really good; I’d like that a lot.”

As soon as Sangmin answers his motel door and finds you on the other side, he throws himself forward to pull you into a warm, tight hug. You wrap your arms around him and return the embrace, so glad to see him safe and sound after two months, while also not knowing when you will be able to see him in person again after today.

“Can we come in a minute?” you request.

“We?” Sangmin questions, pulling back to look over when you point to your right, where Jihoon is standing respectfully back to let you have this moment of reunion. “Oh, you’re not Wonwoo.” 

“No, Wonwoo is…you won’t be seeing him anymore,” you admit and tuck your hands into your jacket pockets. “So, can we come in? I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, yes, of course, come in,” Sangmin consents and moves aside to motion you both in.

The room is pretty simple, but it’s clean, warm, and safe, with a little kitchenette and his own bathroom. 

You perch on one of the two rickety chairs at the tiny table as Jihoon casually wanders around the room, naturally doing a safety check to make sure there are no potential threats to you here.

“Who is he?” Sangmin whispers as he sits opposite you at the table and leans on his elbows, closer to you to keep his curious words between you.

“He’s a friend from childhood,” you answer, which isn’t a lie; Jihoon was your friend as a child, before he was sworn into the gang and had to give up the title, officially at least. It’s just not the full truth, but Sangmin doesn’t need to know the full truth. “How are you, are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing better than I have been in a long time; I have a job now!” he beams proudly. 

“Wonwoo told me. Congratulations, I’m really proud of you, Sangmin.”

“Thank you, I’m proud of me too.” He looks over as Jihoon returns from the bathroom and moves to stand by the motel room door, behind Sangmin. “So, you’re okay now? Wonwoo’s wife has given up on trying to hurt you?” He asks as he turns back around to look at you. 

“Well, not out of choice; she’s in no condition to hurt anyone,” you answer honestly as you think about the video Jihoon had recorded of Wonwoo’s wife, strapped up to so many machines in a private room and barely holding onto life. 

Your brothers really hadn’t gone easy on her; even your father had taken part in punishing her for having you abducted and hurt in the first place. The only reason they hadn’t beaten her to death was that Wonwoo had been brought to them and took their attention away. And honestly, you really couldn't care less about if the woman makes it or not. Jihoon had told you that, from what he could gather from the notes on her chart, the doctors don’t have high hopes that she’ll survive or even wake up. 

Part of you doesn’t want her to survive because then, if she’s gone for good, Wonwoo will be free of her and have a chance to be happy, even if it’s not with you. You want him to be happy in whatever way he can.

“So, you’ll be back at work, and I can walk you home again?” Sangmin asks with a bright smile, excited at the idea. “I made sure my schedule will align with yours for when you’re back.”

“About that.” You reach across the small table to take his hands into yours, heart aching as you watch his smile fall into a frown. “I’m going back to my hometown; I won’t be around anymore.”

“Oh.” He frowns and looks aside a little, thinking hard before nodding. “Okay, I can meet you there; I know there’s branches of the store all over the country, so there has to be one in your hometown. I’ll talk to my boss and get transferred,” he decides, looking so determined that it both warms and breaks your heart.

“Sangie…”

“Oh…you don’t want me going with you.”

“You’re my best friend, you know?”

“And you’re mine, even if I’m almost old enough to be your father.”

“It’s better for you to stay here. There’s stuff you don’t know, and I don’t want you to know about me, but please understand that it’s better for you to stay here, away from that side of me.” 

Sangmin stares at you for a long moment before sighing and nodding. “I know you’re gang affiliated in some way; you were too calm when you were kidnapped to not be, and you were never scared by any rough looking people we passed when I walked you home. I think, even without me there, you would’ve been fine. You can probably handle yourself better than I can.” 

“Probably,” you agree with a little chuckle. “I won’t deny all of that; I respect you far too much to lie to your face like that, but I don’t want you to know any more. You need to stay here to keep away from it all.”

“Okay, I understand. I wouldn’t survive in that world; I know I’m too soft.”

“You’re far too pure for it,” you agree. “I love your purity and heart, Sangmin, I never want to endanger it. I want you to keep seeing the world in hues of rose, not red like I used to before moving here; like I will again.”

“Why are you going back?” he asks, looking lost. “If you stay, you won’t have the red.”

“I can’t. I gave my word that I'd go back, and I need to stick to it.”

“I see.” He nods a little. “Will you visit?”

“I’ll try, but it may be some time; things need to cool off, but I really will try. But until then, we can text and call. Wonwoo said you have a phone now?”

“Oh! Yes!” Sangmin jumps up to grab his phone from the bedside table and bring it over. “I’m still trying to get used to the fancy new apps and emojis and things. Some of the kids at work have been teaching me, and we have a group chat. I really like the funny dog gifs.” 

“You can send me as many as you like,” you promise as you find your own contact in your phone so that you can copy your brand-new number into Sangmin’s contact list and save it and then save his number into yours in return. “There!” You hand his phone back and can’t help but smile at his genuinely joyed, bright grin when he spots your name in his contacts. 

“Thank you. My phone is even more precious to me now that I can use it to talk to you.” 

“Mine too.”

“Ma’am,” Jihoon prompts, after checking his watch, so you look at him. “We need to get going if we don’t want to cut it too close and make the others suspicious.”

“Of course,” you agree and look back at Sangmin. “So, I want to do something for you, something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but it wasn’t exactly realistic given the circumstances.”

“What is it?” Sangmin wonders.

“Give you a home, so I know that you will be safe and warm and can have the life you deserve.”

“I have a home now.” He motions to the room. “I don’t need any more than this.”

“I know you don’t, but I want you to. I want you to have your own apartment again, where you can make a home how you want it; you can decorate it however you want, sell the furniture, and buy stuff to your own tastes. It’s in a nice neighbourhood, not fancy but safe; no gang affiliations in the area or graffiti on the walls. Somewhere you can be proud of, I hope. I want that for you; you deserve that and a lot more, Sangmin.” You hold his hands firmly and settle your pleading gaze on him. “Please let me do this for you, so I know you’re safe and don’t have to worry about the roof over your head.”

The man stares at you consideringly for a long few moments. You know he’s not used to others doing things for him; even before he became homeless, he was always the one doing everything for others and getting nothing in return, so he doesn’t know how to accept help without guilt bubbling in his chest. 

“Okay,” he gives in, voice soft and still reluctant, but he can see how important this is to you. You had posed it as a favour to you on purpose, knowing it would make him agree even if he doesn’t want to; because it’s for you. “But I’m paying my own bills.”

“Utilities. I’ve had a year’s rent paid.” He lets out a disapproving exclamation of your name in response. “I had to secure it!” you defend, pouting at him. “It was the quickest method at the last minute. But if you prove yourself a good tenant, the landlord will renew your lease next year, and then it’s on you. You can take this year to save up for it and buy a car and get your license renewed now that you have a solid address.” 

“When you’re back next, I’m taking you out for dinner,” he promises determinedly.

“No,” you argue with a scoff, while straightening up before grinning at him. “Next time I’m back, I’m cooking for you.”

“Oh…okay, that sounds better,” he concedes easily. “I really miss your cooking.” 

“I’ll cook whatever you want, and you can supply the ingredients, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Ma’am,” Jihoon says; a reminder in the single word that makes you nod.

“Alright. Okay, pack up, Sangmin, we’re taking you to your new home, and then we have to go.”

“I can make my own way-” he tries to assure but you shake your head, cutting him off.

“Nope, I want to see your reaction.”

“Okay.” He chuckles and gets up to start gathering his belongings.

It doesn’t take long at all, and then once Sangmin hands in his key to the landlord and insists that he doesn’t need the deposit back, the three of you get in Jihoon’s car and head to the apartment. 

Although Sangmin had been so hesitant to accept the gift, he looks so genuinely overjoyed as the pair of you wander around the comfortable, two-bedroom apartment, commenting on the furniture and making suggestions of how to make it more of a genuine home instead of a show home. It’s clear that he loves the apartment, and that makes you so happy and settled, knowing that he’ll be able to live somewhere he truly likes and is safe.

After promising to let him know when you’re home safe, you give Sangmin one last hug before leaving, heading with Jihoon back to the life you had hoped you’d left behind, but always knew it’s rooted too deeply within your blood to ever truly turn your back on.

Months pass. Months of falling right back into step with your father, taking up all of the jobs you pushed aside for a taste of normalcy. Not that it actually takes long for you to be back into your old routines. Barely two days after being back in your hometown, you’re splattered in blood with a maniacal glint in your eye that matches the one on your favourite blade. 

Back to your old haunts.

Back to your old habits.

Back to your role as your father’s daughter.

Although you’re not set to inherit the throne, so to speak, as the youngest child, your father has always preferred having you by his side at meetings than your quick to action brothers. At least the two younger ones. 

Your eldest brother, the one set to take over, is the most level-headed of them all, but he stopped attending meetings with your father years ago and instead heads his own meetings. The two of them tend to share the load, and that often means you being at your father’s side to give him a different perspective.

So, when after months, a meeting comes to be, to work on allying your father’s gang with the Ahns, you don’t hesitate in saying you want in. You know that Wonwoo will be there as the one set to inherit the gang, and you want to see the man with your own eyes after three months apart.

Of course, in those three months, you’ve kept your eye on Wonwoo. You know he’s healed fully now, if only for some lingering scars; including one across his left cheekbone from one of your brothers deciding to ‘ruin his pretty face’ with a too blunt knife, leaving a jagged scar a few inches long. You also know that his wife hasn’t healed. 

Ahn Yerim is still in that same hospital room, still hooked up to so many machines to keep her alive, still on life support that Wonwoo won’t give permission to shut off. You have no idea why he’s keeping her alive when this is the perfect chance to be free of her, and a very big part of you wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking keeping himself tied to the psycho. Maybe it’s because of his father-in-law; you hope it’s that and not some kind of loyalty to his wife to preserve her life for as long as possible. 

When you tell your father that you want to go with him, he’s hesitant at first, knowing that you want to check in on Wonwoo, but the man can be so soft on you at times that it only takes a pout from you, and he agrees. 

Three months after leaving, you’re back, if only for a week.

The very first time you meet Wonwoo after months apart, it’s in a fancy, private lounge of a bar that’s been closed this week for the meetings, where he stands in wait with his father-in-law for your father to arrive. 

Clearly, Wonwoo hadn’t expected you to be here, as his eyes widen fractionally when you enter the room at your father’s side, before turning neutral again as he collects himself.

The two older men greet each other familiarly, though there’s clearly more respect coming from Wonwoo’s boss towards your father than is reciprocated, but it’s to be expected when your family is much more powerful than the Ahns and have three times as much land under their thumb. 

“Ah, this must be your daughter,” Mr. Ahn says, turning to you and bowing respectfully, knowing that his own daughter had almost been killed because of her actions towards you. “I apologise for my daughter’s stupid actions all those months back, please forgive her.”

“No,” you reply simply and move to sit down, while your father smirks amusedly before sitting at your side. 

Wonwoo waits for his boss to sit before he does too, taking the space on the couch on the opposite side of the low table to you, allowing the two gang leaders to face each other directly.

“How can she earn your forgiveness?” Mr. Ahn continues, a hint of desperation in his eyes, knowing that if you turn to your father and tell him to tear apart the Ahns, he will, and there will be nothing that stops him until they’re all dead. 

“Dying would be a start,” you deadpan, and your father chuckles, patting a hand on your knee as Mr Ahn baulks at you in shock. 

“My daughter is the hardest to earn forgiveness out of all of my children; always so stubborn and hard to win over,” he muses, sounding proud of your tough shell. 

“You’re asking me to kill my daughter?” Mr. Ahn asks, shocked.

“No,” you respond and pointedly make eye contact with Wonwoo before looking away. “Let’s just discuss what we came here for,” you decide. “Our potential alliance.” 

“Good idea, Princess,” your father agrees and adjusts ever so slightly to get comfortable before the negotiations start and plans begin to get penned down, ready for the two powerful families to become allies and each become even stronger with the other backing them up.

When you get bored during the meeting and check your watch, you realise that Sangmin will be finishing work soon, so you decide that seeing him is much more important than sitting around for this.

“I have somewhere to be,” you declare and don’t wait for a response before getting to your feet, causing both Mr. Ahn and Wonwoo to get up respectfully. 

“Take Jihoon with you,” is all your father says, still reading through the paper in his hand detailing one of the neighbourhoods in the city that Mr. Ahn is offering to your family.

“Of course I’m taking Jihoon with me,” you scoff and look between Mr. Ahn and Wonwoo, eyes catching Wonwoo’s mouth twitching slightly as if he wants to say something but is stopping himself, knowing he can’t. Not here. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, I suppose.”

“Do you need a guide, support while here?” Mr. Ahn offers.

“No,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and heading to the door. “Bye, daddy.”

“Bye, Princess; have fun with your boys.”

“Oh, I will.” 

Jihoon is waiting outside of the room and immediately follows you without you having to say a word. The two of you had already discussed this; visiting Sangmin, so he knew it would happen sooner or later. He also knows how easily you get bored during these meetings, so he had expected you to leave early, and he’s just been waiting for you to appear and want to visit your friend.

“Did you do it?” You ask as the two of you exit the building into the parking lot and head to his car.

“I’m pretty sure I got the right car,” he confirms. “They all look the fucking same, and none of them are registered, obviously, so I took a very educated guess.”

“You didn’t go to school; you’re uneducated.”

“More educated than you, ma’am.”

“Ha, yeah,” you agree with a snigger as he opens the back passenger door. You slide in and click your seatbelt into place as he closes the door, then jogs around to get into the driver’s seat and start the car up. “Did the connection work?” You ask after pulling out your phone to unlock and hand it over to him through the gap in the seats. 

Jihoon finds the app he installed on your phone, which will hack into other phones in close proximity and give you access to the devices. “Mm, there’s a bunch of new devices,” he confirms, after looking at the list. “You’ll have to go through them to find which one is his.” You groan. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to stalk him,” he reminds as he hands your phone back, so that he can strap himself in then pull out of the space and start the drive.

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to know which one is his?” You whine, clicking a random device number on the list to find the gallery and hope there’s something in there. Immediately, you find a bunch of nudes of a man and know it’s not the phone you want. “Ew, gross,” you mutter and delete the device from the list before going into the next. “I swear, if all of these assholes have dick pics in their galleries, I’m telling dad to pull out of the partnership.” 

“Stop looking, I’ll do it,” Jihoon immediately says in offer, though his words are firm enough that they could be classed as a demand, that is, if you didn’t know Jihoon well enough to know he’d never order you to do a damn thing, even if he could. 

“You’re driving.”

“I meant when you’re with Sangmin.”

“Then I won’t have my phone.”

“I don’t want you looking at random dudes’ dicks, ma’am.”

“Just yours?” you tease and grin to yourself as he blushes.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Jihoon blushes darker and grips the steering wheel with both hands firmly. “Please, let me do it,” he requests after a moment. 

“Do what, show me your dick? How much you packing? I think at least six inches.”

“Ohmygod,” he whispers, eyes wide and glued to the road in front. “P-please stop teasing me, ma’am.” 

You giggle and relent, not wanting him to have a breakdown behind the wheel and risk endangering you both. You’ll save your teasing for a time when neither of you can get hurt. “You can look through them for me, but you gotta be in the apartment until you find the right one and give me my phone back.”

“I’ll be in the hall outside.”

“No, that’ll look fucking weird; I don’t want to risk Sangmin’s neighbours asking him questions about the pink faced cherub in the hallway.” 

“Stop,” he complains, cheeks flaring again despite having just started to cool, thinking you were done with your teasing. “I’ll stay in another room; just stop.”

“Deal.” You giggle and lock your phone. 

When you arrive at Sangmin’s apartment, he’s only just arrived home from work moments before, so he’s still in his uniform, but he’s beaming excitedly, having taken your text yesterday that you’ll visit today seriously and has been waiting in anticipation all day for a further update. 

“You’re here!” he greets, pulling you into a warm hug; you giggle happily as you return in. “Come in, come in,” he ushers you both in once your embrace breaks. “Hello, Jihoon, it’s good to see you again.”

“Oh,” Jihoon responds, surprised that Sangmin is speaking to him and sounding genuinely pleased to see him. “Oh uh, you too, Sangmin. Is it alright if I sit in your spare room for a little while?” 

“Oh, you’re not joining us for dinner?” Sangmin asks with a confused frown.

“No…” Jihoon looks utterly bewildered at the thought that Sangmin thought he’s joining your dinner and hangout session. “I’m just here to keep her safe.”

“You can do that while joining us for dinner and to hang out. I bought enough groceries for us all! I figured you’d be by her side.” Sangmin heads to the kitchen, which you follow with a grin after you’ve removed your shoes and jacket. 

Jihoon follows a moment later, still looking bewildered yet hovering in uncertain acceptance of Sangmin’s extension of dinner invitation. He hasn’t been invited to anything by anyone outside of the gang in so long that he doesn’t really know how to navigate this, but he’s willing to try. He doesn’t expect to become friends with Sangmin, but he thinks it would be kinda nice to hang out with a normal person for once.

“Go get out of your uniform, Sangie,” you encourage as you hand Jihoon your locked phone, and he perches kind of awkwardly at the dinner table to begin looking through it, while you move to the sink to wash your hands.

“Ah, I’d be a bad host to leave you both,” Sangmin retorts.

“Don’t be silly; I’m going to get started on dinner prep, and Jihoon is busy looking at dicks; we’re entertained until you return.”

“Ma’am!” Jihoon sputters, looking at you with red features of embarrassment as Sangmin blinks in surprise at Jihoon.

“I don’t think it’s correct to out people,” Sangmin says to you gently after a second. 

“I’m not gay,” Jihoon corrects. “This is her phone.”

“Oh, you’ve moved on from Wonwoo?” Sangmin questions, accepting Jihoon’s response so easily, so trusting and looks at you curiously. Jihoon can’t help but stare at the man in wonder; it’s truly baffling to him that someone can be so trusting and accepting of others.

“No,” you scoff and wave a dismissive hand. “I’ll explain when you’re back from your shower; go wash the day’s work from yourself and get comfortable. We’ll be right here.”

“Are you really sure it’s okay?”

“Of course, wouldn’t say it otherwise,” you assure. Sangmin glances at Jihoon, who nods in agreement, before the older man lets out a breath and leaves the pair of you in the kitchen.

“Is it really okay that I stay, ma’am?” Jihoon asks softly, a few moments later, after just watching you get to work skilfully preparing ingredients for Sangmin’s favourite dishes. 

“Have I told you to leave?” you retort, looking at him without fully lifting your head. Jihoon shakes his head slightly. “There’s your answer, then. Just find me the correct dick pics, like a good cherub and stop questioning your place by my side.”

“It’s not me you want by your side,” he reminds, while obediently looking at your phone to go back to checking through the devices and deleting any that aren’t the one you want access to. 

“I want you by my side, not inside me. Though maybe if it wouldn’t hurt you. You’d probably be a good fuck,” you comment with a shrug as you focus on your task. You don’t need to be looking at Jihoon to know he’s turned a pretty pink, anyway, especially not when you can hear the choked sound he lets out before he pointedly stays quiet and pretends to be very invested in his own task.

The second day in the city goes pretty much the same as the first; a few hours sitting opposite Wonwoo while he pretends that he isn’t itching to talk to you, before you get bored and leave with Jihoon to meet Sangmin. 

This time, you go out for dinner; Sangmin pays at his own insistence, and Jihoon looks almost like he accepts that you both want him there and he’s not out of place at your side.

“When are you going to talk to him?” Sangmin wonders as he watches you check your phone every time there’s a ping from either of the apps you had Jihoon install for this trip. 

“Mm, tomorrow,” you decide, realising that the pings are the same as this time yesterday, and you can safely assume this is the daily routine. You don’t have to wait any longer before implementing your plan.

On the third day, when you leave the meeting, it isn’t as early as usual, but it is still earlier than the three men leave.

For the first time since arriving in the city, you drive yourself where you need to go, with only yourself for company. Jihoon knows where you are, of course, and you know that he has tracking apps on your phone that you’ll never find, so that he can be sure that you’re where you’re supposed to be, therefore safe. But he won’t interfere unless you deviate from your plan without warning or fail to answer if he calls. 

Being back is strange in a lot of ways, but in others, it isn’t. This place, it became your home, and even now, three months later, something in you settles in the familiarity of it.

It’s a few hours before the beep of the lock disengaging echoes around the apartment, only the sound of the radio playing gently in the background; a new addition but a welcome one. There still isn’t a modern TV on the wall or an internet modem, but that doesn’t surprise you. The more homely touches do, however; the random knick-knacks around, more signs that this is a home, not just an empty shell of an apartment. You hadn’t expected them, but they make you smile.

You’re just finishing setting up everything on the dining table when socked footsteps approach from behind, joining you in the kitchen area. 

Wordlessly, you both sit down in your seats, and just like he did in those first few weeks, Wonwoo shovels your cooking in his mouth as if he’s been starved for months. It makes you huff a short, amused laugh. He looks at you and can’t help but smile, yet neither of you say a word, not yet.

Despite there still being that familiar ease in the air between you, it’s laced amongst tension. You haven’t seen one another in months, haven’t talked in as long, and the last time you saw each other, things weren’t exactly normal between you. You had been desperate to leave, and Wonwoo had wanted nothing more than for you to stay, but he knew he couldn’t hold you here when you looked like you did. Of course, he soon found out why you wanted to leave so insistently, when your father and brothers beat the shit out of him and put him in hospital for a week, but still, he wished you never left. 

There’s clearly a lot that needs to be said, things to be discussed, yet neither of you know where to start exactly.

After almost ten minutes of silently eating, Wonwoo is the one who talks first, “have you memorised my schedule or something?” 

“I put a tracker on your car and hacked your phone,” you answer bluntly, making him look at you in dumb shock. 

“You did what?” he mutters disbelievingly.

“Mm, first day back in the city,” you confirm with a nod, picking up your glass of wine to take a few sips before placing it back down. “You live a boring life, you know. No life outside of what your dear father-in-law tells you what to do. And ya know, visiting your wife.” You pull a disapproving face at the routine you had seen Wonwoo follow the past three days, today included, thanks to the tracking apps. At least his boring routine means you easily figured out what time he’d be home.

He rolls his eyes. “Sorry I don’t live up to your expectations, Princess.” You ignore the jab at your position, the name your father calls you.

“You should be.” You reach under the table, to pick up the item on your lap that had been waiting on the chair until you sat. The hesitance on Wonwoo’s features is obvious to you as he pauses in his movements to watch you cautiously; you assume that he thinks you’re about to pull a weapon on him for some reason. Yet you think the expression that takes over his features tells you that he would’ve preferred a gun to the gift bag you place on the tabletop pointedly.

“Did you go through my fucking closet?” he hisses, knowing he had hidden that gift bag away months ago, when you still lived here.

“I spilled sauce on my shirt,” you reason, suddenly inadvertently drawing his attention to the shirt on your body. It’s too big for you really, too broad on your shoulders that are nowhere near as wide as his, and you have the sleeves rolled up to your forearms to account for his longer limbs.  

“Your clothes are still in your room,” he points out, eyes still on his shirt on your body as if he can’t make himself look away yet. It makes you feel smugly pleased that he so clearly likes that you’re wearing his clothes. 

“I noticed. But they’ve been sitting there for months, and this is freshly washed; it smells nice.” 

Finally, he drags his eyes up to meet your own and nods slightly, accepting your reasoning and honestly, not wanting to argue anymore and risk you going to change out of his clothes into your own. “Fine, but that bag wasn’t even with the fucking shirts.” 

“Okay, fine; I was bored and wanted to find something juicy,” you admit with a dramatic sigh. “I expected fluffy handcuffs, or a pocky pussy shaped like a monster vagina.” You pout; upset about the lack of filthy items you found while digging around Wonwoo’s bedroom earlier.

“I forgot how fucking weird you are,” he mutters, turning back to his meal. 

“How fucking rude! How dare you forget a single thing about me, Jeon Wonwoo!” you exclaim in offence, even if it’s mostly fake, just to wind him up. “I remember everything about you. Including that cute little mole on your right butt cheek.” 

He sputters and looks at you with widened eyes. “I don’t have a mole on my ass!” 

“Yes, you do. Get naked, and I’ll take a photo to show you.” He rolls his eyes and decides to eat instead of responding, knowing it’s for the best to just ignore you when you’re being ridiculous. “So, going to explain this?” you prompt, pointing to the bag. “You were supposed to return that.” He just shrugs, and you know that he’s too stubborn to be truthful right now, so you decide to give up on getting an answer and join him in returning to your dinner.

At least the atmosphere isn’t so tense now that you’ve had a conversation, even if no questions have been answered yet, or even really asked.

After you finish eating, and Wonwoo’s done cleaning up, just like he used to, he joins you on the couch and offers a fresh glass of wine. 

You shake your head in refusal. “Already had one, I need to drive to the hotel.” 

“I spent too fucking much on that fancy mattress you bugged me to buy you, for you to not sleep on it while here,” he scoffs and puts the glass in your hand before settling comfortably in his usual space.

“Are you asking me to stay for the rest of the week?” you tease.

“It’s quiet without you,” his answer is too honest, eyes too open on you, that you drop the attempt at being playful and decide to match his energy.

“Then go home.” 

“That place never felt like home,” he reasons with a displeased twist of his features. “That’s her house, and I have these apartments to get away from her.” 

“She’s not there anymore.” 

“Still her house to me. I never liked it, and I don’t need to show my face to an empty house to stop accusations about cheating,” he points out and swallows a mouthful of his wine. 

You give him a raised eyebrows look. “So, you’ve taken up living in the place you shared with another woman for almost three months.” 

“The closest thing to a home I’ve known in a long time.” 

“Are you drunk already, Jeon Wonwoo? One glass of red, and you get sappy.” 

He takes the glass from your hand and motions to the door broadly. “Fuck off if you’re going to be a bitch when I’m trying to be honest,” he grumbles, embarrassed and offended that he’s genuinely trying and you’re making jokes. 

“Give me back my wine, I need it for this,” you whine, making grabby hands towards him. With a sigh, he does as you ask, and you both take a few drinks. “So…” you start awkwardly, while staring down into your glass, not sure how to navigate this; being so serious, but you want to try. “This is the closest you’ve known to a home? What…” You lick your lips nervously and look at him. “Why is that?” 

“I’ve been in a gang for-” 

You cut him off while shaking your head, “I meant why this one. You said you have multiple apartments, why this one? I’m surprised you came back here after all that.” 

“You know why.” He looks at you as if you look into each other’s eyes intensely enough, everything will become clear. It doesn’t. “Same reason I didn’t return the fucking necklace.” 

“Let’s pretend I’m stupid for a minute,” you say, adjusting your position a little as your stomach flutters and heart heaves in your chest, anxiety rearing its inconsiderate head. “I know, it’s a tough ask because I’m clearly a genius, but just pretend I’m emotionally inept, and I have no idea what you mean.” 

“They keep asking me for an answer,” he says, utterly bewildering you.

“Okay, I must actually be stupid because I have no fucking idea how that answers my question at all,” you admit in a questioning mutter. 

“The doctors overseeing my wife,” he starts to explain. “I’m her next of kin; it’s my call entirely what happens to her. They told me from the start that she likely won’t wake, and even if she does, she won’t ever be the woman I married. I’d have to hire a team of nurses and shit and devote my life to wiping the fucking drool from her chin.” 

You make a noise of understanding and nod slowly as you absorb his words. “So, that rumour’s true; she’s brain dead. More than before my brothers got their hands on her, I mean.” 

“Yep,” he confirms simply before he finishes his glass and puts it on the coffee table. 

“And the doctors are basically asking if you want to pull the plug?” Wonwoo nods in confirmation. “And you haven’t answered.” 

“I’ve almost said yes so many times; just fucking wipe my hands of the bitch for good. I don’t want to have to look after her. I never even liked her, so I don’t want to be responsible for her.” 

“Then tell them to pull the plug. I don’t understand why you haven’t already. If you even liked her, not loved but just simply liked, I’d understand your hesitance, but you pretty much hate her. What’s stopping you? Is it her dad?” 

“No, he knows she’s never coming back, and he’s told me he won’t hold it against me if I tell them to do it. He said he’d rather she doesn’t wake and suffer for the rest of her life, and he knows she wouldn’t want to live like that either.”

“Then why haven’t you given consent yet?” 

“It’s the dumbest fucking thing; it doesn’t even make sense,” he mutters, looking at the space between you as if he wants to move over to cut it in half, or remove it entirely.  

“Tell me,” you insist, minutely shuffling closer encouragingly. 

“I just keeping thinking that…what if that was you? And in that split second where I imagine you laid there, I can’t do it,” he confesses, genuinely shocking you as your heart speeds up and even skips a few beats in excitement and what you’re certain is more than just hope at this point. 

“Oh… You’re right; that makes no sense.” 

Wonwoo huffs a laugh and looks up at you. “You really are emotionally inept, aren’t you?” 

“Says you.” 

“We’re as bad as each other, I guess.” 

“Mm, seems that way, Mr. Jeon.” 

The two of you look at one another for a minute, so much and nothing at all being said in the air between you, the way your eyes don’t waver from one another. 

Seemingly making a decision about whatever is on his mind, he nods determinedly and takes your glass to down the remainder, making you whine wordlessly and whack his leg in complaint. “I’m going to do it tomorrow,” he declares, putting the glass on the table beside his own. 

“What?” you ask confusedly after staring forlornly at your stolen glass for a second, then looking at him puzzled. 

“First thing tomorrow, I’m going to go to the hospital and sign the papers to end the life support,” he decides firmly. 

You raise a questioning eyebrow. “And what if your weird little mind imagines me laid on that bed again?” 

“Remember what you said you’d do with that necklace if I wasn’t married?” he prompts, making you nod in confirmation. “That is what I’m going to think about.”

Waking in your bed in the apartment feels both strange, and so normal that you momentarily forget that you’ve been gone for months. But it only lasts for a few seconds before you realise that your alarm is going off on the side table and you reach out to grab it and turn it off. 

It’s earlier than you’ve ever woken here; not even 8am yet, but you know you have a meeting to attend at 9:30am, so you need to at least get up and shower ready to leave. 

All of your toiletries are still in your ensuite. Actually, everything of yours that you left around the apartment is still where you last put it, so long as it’s not in the way. It makes your heart flutter every time you think of how Wonwoo hadn’t wanted to remove any trace of you, despite now living full time in the apartment.

Showering and getting ready doesn’t take that long; you’re wandering downstairs by 8:20 and realising that Wonwoo isn’t home. You know he’d be in the kitchen if he was. You both have to be at the same meeting, after all, and he’s always been awake before you. 

It feels like normal to check the whiteboard on the fridge for a message from Wonwoo. There’s a fresh one in place, just as you suspected; though it simply tells you to bring your belongings from your hotel room here, and that he’ll get takeout for dinner tonight, so you don’t need to bother cooking for either of you.

Though, there’s no information explaining where he’s gone so early, so, of course, you pull out your phone and pull up the tracking app for his phone. The moment you see that he’s at the hospital, you exit the app and try not to feel excited at the potential that Wonwoo is currently giving consent to have his wife’s life support turned off. 

It’s pretty twisted of you to wish for that, but you’ve never pretended that you’re not a twisted kind of person. Being raised as you have, surrounded by all the blood and mayhem your father didn’t try to hide from you once you became a teenager, well, that’s bound to twist a person’s mentality more than just a bit.

After texting Jihoon to tell him you’re heading back now, you leave the apartment to head to the hotel to meet everyone, ready to sit through another few hours of a boring meeting to discuss more details about the alliance.

As it turns out though, the meeting is cancelled for today, something you and your father are only told once you’re already at the bar. But there are plenty of Ahn’s men around that the two of you pass time talking to them to gain even more information on the gang; things that the boss himself won’t tell you, or perhaps even know about how his men work outside of his direct orders. 

It's very informative and much more interesting than the meeting would’ve been, so you stick around for as long as your father does before all heading back to the hotel.

“You’re really doing this?” Jihoon asks as he watches you zip up your case now that it’s packed back up and none of your belongings remain outside of your luggage. 

“Don’t sound so fucking dramatic, it’s like three days,” you scoff. “You know where I’ll be, you can track me and hack my phone; listen in and activate my camera when I’m in the shower, pervert.”

“I’ve never done that!” he sputters, blushing furiously. 

“Your loss, I look great naked and dripping wet.”

“I don’t doubt it; you’re always beautiful,” he responds honestly, making you look at him and smile softly at his heartfelt compliment. “He’s a lucky guy, to have your heart like this.”

“Well…I wouldn’t take it that far,” you reply, diverting your gaze as your cheeks pinken ever so slightly.

“You’re blushing,” he teases.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Is that an order, ma’am?” He’s smirking when you look at him.

“Only if you send me a picture of your eight-inch wonder wrapped in your pretty hands,” you purr, smirking salaciously and he immediately looks away, once again back to blushing. “Ah, you’re so easy, Jihoonie.”

“Only for you,” he mutters and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Be careful with him, ma’am. Smart.”

“I have condoms.”

“Okay, good. I don’t want people to look down on you for having a child out of wedlock, or risking catching something from him.” 

“Me either,” you agree. “Any other orders, cherub?”

“Yeah, stop calling me that.” He gives you an unimpressed look that makes you giggle, which in turn, makes his expression melt into something fond. “Call me whatever you want,” he decides. 

“Simp.”

“Only for you.” He shrugs and moves to open the suite door when you head towards it with your luggage. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you there?”

“No, Jihoon. I can do it; I’m a big girl.”

“I know,” he chuckles. “I still worry, though.”

“Okay, daddy.” Jihoon short circuits, and you take the chance to leave, cackling to yourself at the dumbass, open-mouthed, wide-eyed expression he’s wearing.

When you enter the apartment, you immediately spot Wonwoo in the kitchen with his back to you as he leans on the island with both hands, attention on the paper atop the counter. He’s still wearing his leather jacket, and you assume he hasn’t been home long.

After removing your shoes and jacket, you leave your luggage in the entrance hall and walk over to peer around Wonwoo’s arm at the paper curiously. “Oh. Death certificate already? You don’t wait around, do you,” you muse, moving aside to lean back against the counter a little on his left. 

“It was already waiting, just needed the details. Everyone knew it was coming. Even my father- well, I guess my ex-father-in-law knew.” He huffs a short laugh that’s barely an exhale of a laugh before looking at you. “Said he knew it’d be this week too, once he saw the way I looked at you Monday morning.” 

You whistle impressed. “Damn, just say you’re in love with me, and get it over with.” 

He rolls his eyes and finally moves to tuck the certificate back in the envelope, tucking his wedding ring inside too. It makes your stomach twist excitedly. “Don’t take it too far, asshole.” 

“I’m very lovable,” you defend. 

“Prove it to me.” He turns to face you properly; you mirror his stance so you’re facing one another, perfectly in reach yet neither of you reach out.

“Prove it how exactly?” 

He opens his mouth without thought, then closes it before he can say the words, changing his mind as he shakes his head slightly. He takes a second before opening his mouth and saying something less impulsive, “Not now; I’ve literally just become a widower today, so I should at least respect my dead wife by not starting something with the woman who essentially killed her.” 

“Hey!” you exclaim and reach out to backhand his bicep, making his lips turn up at one side, smiling amusedly. “I take offense with that! If I was going to kill her, I would’ve done it ages ago! My brothers killed her because of her own dumbass decision to kidnap me. And, well, yours for holding me up so long. You had more part in her death than me.” 

“Okay, I can accept that,” he concedes easily, not even trying to deny it in any way. “Then I definitely can’t start anything with you; can’t let anyone know that I killed my wife for you.” 

“How romantic of you,” you coo sarcastically. 

“Very,” he grins, making you huff a laugh. 

“So, just to clarify; you are no longer married, but you want to wait?” 

“Yes.” 

You hum for a few seconds. “So, you don’t want me to go put on that necklace?” 

He stares at you dumbly for a moment as his mind whirls with the mental images your words spawn. “I didn’t say that,” he murmurs lowly, eyes darkening with lust as they focus back on you. 

“So, you do?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to comply with a simple yet so honest and effective, “Please.” 

It’s you who stares dumbly for a few seconds this time. “Oh, that was easier than I thought,” you admit in a mutter before smirking at him amusedly. “You really are desperate for a fuck, huh?” 

“I can go without usually, but I’ve never wanted someone like I have you. So now I have the chance, yes, I want to take it,” he answers candidly, without any waver to his voice or lust heavy expression on you. “Never know what will happen in our line of work.” 

“Hmm, true.” You glance around the kitchen for the gift bag that you know was on the counter this morning when you left, then at him with a confused frown when you don’t find it. “Did you really put it back away?” 

“No. It’s on your bed waiting.” 

“Presumptuous.” 

“I just know neither of us would want to wait longer than necessary.” 

“True,” you agree with a nod, unable to even pretend to try and deny his words, before starting to back towards the stairs slowly. “I’m going to shower, and you should too. I don’t want you to touch me with dead wife hands.” 

“I didn’t even touch her,” he says.

You stop in your tracks and give him a flat, unimpressed look. “The air touched you both, Wonwoo.”

He rolls his eyes and then starts walking forward, towards you and the stairs while unzipping his jacket ready to remove it. “Whatever, just hurry the fuck up and get naked on my bed.” 

“Demanding.” 

He reaches out to grab the front of your shirt, technically another of his, once in front of you and stops you from backing up like you intend to. You glance down at his hand gripping the material then back up into his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Before anything, I need to ask something.”

“No, I’m not going to call you daddy, no matter how much you beg,” you answer, tapping the tip of his nose once with your finger; he rolls his eyes and tugs you closer. “Okay, damn, I was joking, daddy.”

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” he retorts, though he’s clearly trying not to chuckle at your words. “And I know you call your dad that, so I definitely don’t want you calling me that. Keep your daddy issues out of our sex life.”

“Boring.” He gives you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’ll pretend I’m a serious person. What’s your question?”

“When did you get tested?”

“For what?”

“Anything you can pass on when you sit on my face.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen in clear interest. “Very recently; nothing to pass on. You?”

“Same.” 

“Great. Shower; go clean my throne thoroughly,” you say and pat his cheek, though hesitate when you see the scar on his cheek and cup his face so you can run your thumb over it. “What did they do to your pretty face, huh?” 

“Nothing your thighs can’t hide.”

“You know what? You’re so fucking right,” you agree then dart forward to press a far too quick kiss to his lips, then back up while he stares after you, in shock at first but then in challenge as you giggle. “Ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” he confirms before you both rush upstairs to your ensuites to shower, more than just a little fucking excited to finally get to get your hands on each other.

Over the few days living back at the apartment, you and Wonwoo enthusiastically defile every inch of the apartment humanly possible, and then do it all over again, and again, and again. 

Honestly, you have no idea how you both seem to have endless stamina and arousal in your veins to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. All it takes is locking gaze and suddenly clothes are being thrown off, and you’re reaching for condoms, which the two of you had great fun hiding all over the apartment to find again like a horny Easter egg hunt.

It’s even more impressive because you both still have to attend meetings, and Wonwoo has to meet with various people to arrange the funeral properly. He also has to deal with his wife’s belongings; none of which he wants to keep and frankly doesn’t care what happens to it, but he has to keep up appearances at least a little bit.

But, those three days pass far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it, you’re saying goodbye to Wonwoo with his number in your phone and his marks covering your skin under your clothes.

Honestly, part of you thought that now that you and Wonwoo have fucked it out, a lot, and have the opportunity to text and call whenever you want, that whatever is between you might fizzle out over the following few months apart. You thought that maybe, the novelty of finally being able to fall together would’ve worn off, and things would change. But you were very wrong.

Well, partially, because things do change, but not in the way you expected.

Every single night, Wonwoo video calls you, so that you can eat your dinner together despite the distance, and then you spend hours on call. Sometimes you’re quiet, each doing your own thing but just enjoying having the other there. Sometimes there’s nonstop talking. And sometimes, there is, of course, a lot of phone sex. 

Even if the exact nature of the calls differ, he still calls and smiles at you so happily with a light in his eyes that you never saw in those months living together. But now, he looks like there’s no longer a weight dragging his heart down, and instead it’s allowed to flutter free, right into your waiting hands.

Wonwoo never hides it either, never tries to pretend that he doesn’t just sit and stare at you sometimes with a soft, content look on his face that always makes your heart flutter when you notice. He never hides how happy you make him, how much he adores talking to you, adores you. 

He texts you every morning and at random points in the day just to check in and keep each other updated. Or send photos and memes he thinks you’ll like.

He sends random gifts to your house; flowers, food, lingerie, random knick-knacks he saw and thought of you, and you always show them to him on the next video call after you’ve decided where to put them. He always looks so happy that you’ve accepted the items and allowed them to be a part of your daily life.

The first time you send Wonwoo a gift in return, a giant bouquet of flowers, he calls you the second it arrives and excitedly thanks you so profusely; saying that no one has ever bought him flowers before, and he doesn’t know how to look after them, but he’ll do research and treasure them. Which he does; those flowers last far longer than you expect, thanks to his careful attention, and you can’t help but send him endless gifts after. He’s always so adorably happy and enthusiastic about whatever you send him, just because you had taken the time to think of him. 

It’s honestly a side of him you really hadn’t known existed, a side so different to his usual persona that you feel like there’s something right in the depths of you both that ties you together and allows him to let himself be so free and honest with you. 

The more you think about it, the more you take moments to just look at him on your screen as he talks or does chores, oblivious to your admiring gaze, the more you think that you might finally understand how Jihoon can be so devoted to you and willing to do anything to make you happy, even though he knows it will never get him anywhere with you. 

You think you’d carve your heart from your chest and put it in Wonwoo’s hands if it would make him smile.

You think, that perhaps, he already has it.

Winter isn’t the best time to show off the private stretch of beach that your home overlooks, but it’s out of your control when Wonwoo turns up to deal with things on behalf of the Ahn gang in January. 

But really, you don’t mind it, not when it means he’s finally right back within arm’s reach, and you can kiss his stupidly pretty face whenever you want, even if it’s chilled from the sea air blowing in as you sit on the blanket on the sand to watch the sun set.

He’s already been here for a few days, staying in your beachside home with you and defiling every inch of it at every given chance, too. But, it hasn’t all been about sex. There have been a lot of times where you just lay side by side, hands trailing over one another with no intention but to touch, to admire, to silently worship the other in a way you hope you can spend the rest of your lives doing.

There’s no ‘perhaps’ about it anymore, no doubt left in your mind or heart as you see your heart split in half and at home in his chest with half of his own, the other part in your own chest. 

You thought having an incomplete heart was something bad, something to be feared and resent, but knowing Wonwoo has so willingly split his to complete yours and readily accepted yours as the other half of his, you think it’s the best thing a person could ever experience.

Even sitting here in the chill and talking about work, as you look at Wonwoo, all you feel is love.  Although neither of you have said the words, have even discussed what your relationship is, you’re confident that he feels it too.

“He’s giving me more and more responsibilities now, like he’s getting ready to step down,” he informs, playing with the hem of your jumper, where he’s shoved his hand up the front of your coat to be closer to your skin and leech your warmth. You’re doing the same thing to him though, so you can’t really call him out on it.

“Gang boss Wonwoo, how attractive of you,” you muse and kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, making him smile at the cute action. 

“Attractive enough to be Mrs gang boss Wonwoo?” Immediately, you straighten up to look at him in wide eyed shock at the abrupt question. Wonwoo removes his hands from you so that he can reach into one of his coat pockets and pull out a small, dark cube. A ring box.

“My dad will kill you if you propose to me without his blessing,” you mutter dumbly, eyes glued to the box as he shuffles to face you better.

“I know, so I asked him today.” 

Your head jerks up to look at him wide eyed. “And he said yes?!” 

“He doesn’t want his daughter being some asshole’s mistress, so he’d rather you just marry the asshole instead.” He chuckles. “It’d ally our gangs too.” 

“I wouldn’t be your mistress!” you baulk offendedly.

“I don’t want you to be,” he assures. “I want to do it right this time; marriage.” 

“What does ‘doing it right’ even mean, Wonwoo?” 

“Not for business.” 

“You just said it’d ally us,” you remind. 

“That’s not important to me. If you said you want to run away and leave all this shit behind, I’d agree.” 

You make an impressed sound similar to a whistle. “Damn. You’re whipped.” 

He laughs and nods a little, while opening the box to show you the silver, diamond studded ring within. It matches the necklace you haven’t removed once since putting it on four months ago; you only remove the earrings at night so that they don’t dig into your skull when you sleep. “I am. You proved to me how lovable you are the past months, to the degree that I never want to spend a day without you, Princess. I really have fallen for you, and whether you love me or not isn’t important, because I’m confident you’ll love me sooner or later.” 

“Definitely sooner,” you reply immediately, making his lips turn up into a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“I won’t marry for a reason other than genuine love, Wonwoo.” 

“What does that mean?” 

You offer your left hand and wiggle your fingers impatiently. “Put the fucking ring on me, then let me ride my fiancé’s dick.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate to pluck the ring from the cushion and slide it onto your finger, before pulling you onto his lap with a smile so bright it puts the setting sun to shame. “Whatever you want, Princess.” 

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

Whatever You Want part two tag: @syluslittlecrows, @eisaspresso, @riseokau

[smileysuh]

crossroads - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, big dick Mingyu, creampie, oral (f/m receiving), blow job, deep throating, hand job, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, breast worship, nipple pinching, nipple licking, panty kink, eating pussy through panties, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, dirty talk, ‘sir’, dom!Wonwoo, switch!mingyu, blindfold/sensory deprivation, voyeurism, listening to your neighbour have sex, masturbation, reader reads erotica, mutual masturbation, slight dacryphilia, blind fold/sensory deprivation, inklings of humiliation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby. (Mingyu’s) gyu. (Wonwoo’s) sir. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.8k

🍭 aus. Biker!meanie, booktok!reader, neighbours!au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This was not supposed to be this long. I don’t know how this happened. 

You head back to your bedroom… which is where you find Mingyu flipping through the most recent book you’ve been reading.

Your heart lurches into your throat, body freezing in the doorway. 

“I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” Mingyu muses, looking up at you.

“What?” you squeak.

“Erotica,” he responds casually. “This seems interesting though.”

You slowly approach the bed, joining Mingyu under the covers while he reaches to put your book back on your nightstand. 

“Uh…” you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Mingyu laughs, pulling you close to his chest. “Why not? It’s not like I’m judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. Why would I? I think I read somewhere that men like visual porn and women lean towards the written stuff, nothing to be ashamed of.”

He really is the perfect man.

“Plus, I keep seeing shit on tiktok about booktok girls needing their bikertok boy, I don’t mind filling that role for you.” Another nonchalant comment that makes your heart do somersaults. “Although… aren’t all of you booktok girls into masked men and threesomes and shit?”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday, April 12nd, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

the link for the fic will be posted here when it's on tumblr :)

[ktownshizzle]

Nerd & Nerdier | Chapter 5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, Jeon Wonwoo x reader; endgame? x reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Attempt At Comedy, Roommates au, Love triangle

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Wildly gratuitous, You might 100% chance you’ll fall in love with both of them so that’s a problem, no mxm dynamics to be expected

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: noods vs nudes debacle, smoking cigarettes, fangirls, yoongi being so good at archery, kissing

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 2.7k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: March 16, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Thank you to @angellekookie for beta reading. and THANK YOU for reading my stories. Just hit 1k followers and it's kind of cool, yk. Appreciate your support and love. Enjoy this one~ :)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

You like to think this was a selfless idea.

After all, things had been weird ever since the dates. Not bad-weird, just different. The kind of different where Yoongi watches you longer than necessary when he thinks you won’t notice and Wonwoo suddenly likes sitting just a little closer than before.

And okay, maybe you liked the attention. Maybe you liked them competing for your time. And maybe—just maybe—you wanted to indulge in the idea that this was your own personal season of The Bachelorette (or Single’s Inferno, if you were feeling extra dramatic).

But mostly? You just wanted to spend time with both of them together again. So, in the spirit of "bonding," you suggested an activity that felt fun, safe, totally neutral.

Archery.

Roommate Rule #4: If You Plan a Group Outing to Bond, Be Prepared for Chaos.

The moment you step into the archery range, Yoongi sighs like he’s already bored. You give him a stern look and his lips thin into a straight line, chin dimpling as he pretends to now be well-behaved. Meanwhile, Wonwoo is practically vibrating with energy. He cracks his knuckles, rolls out his shoulders. Honestly, with the amount of gaming he does, he might just be naturally good at this.

An instructor teaches you three the basics. You’re the only one listening, because Yoongi seems to be disassociating heavily and Wonwoo is so hyped up like he’s in a real first person shooter game.

You volunteer to go first. You step up to the line, nock the arrow, and pull back the bowstring. It takes a little adjusting, but your shot is decent. Not perfect, but it hits the board. 6.

“Not bad,” Yoongi muses, arms crossed.

“You sound so surprised,” you scoff.

“I am.”

Wonwoo steps up, brimming with confidence. He draws back. Pouts his lips. Aims. Releases.

Misses. Completely.

Like. It was not even close. It did not even hit the board or the one beside it.

“What the—” Wonwoo blinks at the target, as if it is the problem. “That can’t be right.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “It looked right to me.”

“Hyung...” Wonwoo whines, but quickly grabs another arrow. Misses again.

“-100 aura?” Yoongi supplies unhelpfully.

You purse your lips, fighting the laughter bubbling up in your throat. “Uh… maybe you just need to adjust a little?”

“I don’t need to adjust,” Wonwoo grumbles, rolling his shoulders. “I just need to—”

Then Yoongi steps up. Casually. Effortlessly, as he does everything else. He draws back, barely even aiming—shoots.

It’s a perfect bullseye.

Wonwoo stares.

You are so gagged. “Wait. You never said you were good at this.”

Yoongi shrugs, completely unfazed. “I’m good at everything.”

Wonwoo just stands there, arrow still in hand, confidence actively crumbling. “Hyung, you gotta show me once…”

And of course, Yoongi is not a complete asshole, so he does give Wonwoo a few pointers. Spends time with the basics and a few of his own techniques. (“Don’t pout when you aim, unless you wanna split your lip.”) He’s actually a good teacher.

But even after that, Wonwoo misses twice more. You study his expression, and he is visibly struggling. His shoulders are tense, his grip is stiff, and you can see the frustration in his expression.

You feel bad now.

“You’re just tense,” you say, stepping closer, placing your palms on his shoulder, squeezing a bit. “Breathe. Relax this.”

Wonwoo exhales, nodding as you adjust his stance, fixing his grip.

Yoongi coughs. You ignore him.

Then, finally, Wonwoo releases the arrow—and it actually hits the board this time. 4! A win is a win!

“See?” You grin, patting him on the back. “Better!”

Wonwoo still pouts. “Still not good enough, though.”

“You’re good at other things,” you offer.

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah? Name one.”

Wonwoo mutters, “…Being tall.”

You giggle as Yoongi responds with an, “I’ll give you that.”

After the tragic archery session, you all end up at a pocha close to your apartment. Greasy food, cheap soju. The vibes are always good here.

The three of you settle into your usual spot, the server spotting you with your usual digs: tteokbokki, odeng, soju, beer.

Yoongi is nursing his beer, Wonwoo is distractedly scrolling on his phone, and you are already halfway through your second soju shot because tonight just feels like one of those nights.

And then, it happens.

At the next table, a group of three girls keeps sneaking glances over, whispering.

It doesn’t take long before one of them gathers the courage to approach, smiling directly at Wonwoo.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, but—" she bows in slightly, eyes wide with curiosity. "Are you a streamer? You look so familiar."

Wonwoo blinks, caught completely off guard. “Oh—uh, yeah. I stream sometimes.”

One of the other girls gasps. “I knew it! You’re gameboy17. We watch your streams all the time!”

The third girl, the boldest of them, rests her chin in her hand, smiling. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d be even cuter in person.”

Yoongi and you exchange knowing glances, while Wonwoo.exe has stopped working.

His jaw tightens, ears slowly turning pink, and for a second, he looks like he’s about to short-circuit. But then, he rubs the back of his neck, clears his throat, and finally gets his footing.

“Oh—uh, thanks,” he says, offering a tiny, lopsided grin.

And just like that, the girls pounce.

They start asking him a million questions. What games does he play? How long has he been streaming? Does he have a girlfriend?

You sip your drink, completely unbothered.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is studying you carefully over the rim of his beer.

Wonwoo’s getting visibly more comfortable now, leaning into the attention, his usual awkwardness melting away under the weight of all this praise. The way they’re hanging off his every word, you’re pretty sure these girls are the type to let him ruin their lives, and he knows it.

And then—

"Oppa, you don’t have to third-wheel with your friends,” one of them pouts. "Come join us at our table."

Wonwoo freezes. His ears go from pink to red.

Yoongi’s lips twitch, barely suppressing a smirk, but you can hear a hum of satisfaction as he takes a slow sip of beer.

Your face prickles, heat spreading up your neck at the sudden, unexpected insinuation. You feel the attention shift to you now, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

You could make him suffer. But you’re feeling merciful.

"We're all just roommates," you clarify, giving Wonwoo an easy out.

The girls nod in understanding, but it does nothing to deter them. They go right back to chatting him up.

And then—you make a mistake. Maybe it’s the soju, maybe it’s the pure chaos of it all, but the moment you invite them to join your table, they actually do.

Wonwoo looks horrified. But when he glances at you, you just give him a nod like, it’s okay, enjoy the attention.

And really, why wouldn’t he?

The girls are practically draped over him now, leaning in closer every time he speaks, laughing a little too hard at things that aren’t that funny.

You should be annoyed. You should be jealous.

But as you sip your drink, seeing him interact with girls who are not you, you feel nothing.

Or rather, you feel something… but it isn’t jealousy. It’s just… curiosity.

Wouldn't you be irritated if you really wanted Wonwoo?

The thought lingers, curling around your brain like the cigarette smoke Yoongi just puffed out. Then, he speaks, casually pulling you from your reverie.

"So," he says. "You’re awfully quiet."

You blink, glancing at him. "No, I’m fine."

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he just reclines in his seat, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"How’s work?" he asks.

And that’s that. The subject shifts. You talk about annoying coworkers, upcoming deadlines, the usual. And for the rest of the night, you and Yoongi stay in your own little world while Wonwoo enjoys the fruits of his unexpected fame. Which includes three new contact numbers saved on his phone.

By the time you head home, Wonwoo looks exhausted. He’s more quiet than usual, walking with a pensive expression like he’s deep in existential thought.

Yoongi glances at him, amused.

"You good, Romeo?"

Wonwoo exhales deeply. "I wasn’t prepared."

You laugh, nudging his elbow. "What, for being hot?"

Wonwoo turns his head slowly, expression serious. "Yes."

For once—even Yoongi has nothing to say.

It’s a lazy afternoon, and you’re perched at the kitchen counter, elbow-deep in a steaming bowl of instant ramen. Across from you, Yoongi is doing the same—hoodie sleeves pushed up, one hand cradling his chin, the other lazily twirling noodles around his chopsticks, humming some old cartoon show tune.

The apartment is quiet, peaceful, and a little lazy. Just how you like your Sunday mornings.

That was until the bedroom door creaks open and Wonwoo finally emerges from his crypt after a night-long stream.

His hair is a disheveled mess, his glasses slightly crooked sliding further from his oily nose, and his oversized shirt is barely hanging off his shoulder. You don’t even bother greeting him properly.

“Want noods?”

Suddenly, Yoongi chokes violently on his soup. A horrifying spluttering sound follows, and then he’s spitting the broth back into his bowl.

“The fuck,” he wheezes.

You blink at him. A little disgusted. “You okay?”

Yoongi glares, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. ”Am I okay? Are you okay saying shit like that?”

And then it hits you.

The phrasing. The implication.

“Duh,” you roll your eyes defensively. “Of course, I meant noodles—”

But it’s too late. Because Wonwoo is grinning. Amused. Like he’s enjoying this a little too much.

“Easy, hyung,” he murmurs, plopping onto the seat next to you, stretching like a cat.

You flounder. Panic.

“Noodles!” you stress, voice a pitch too high. “I was just teasing him about the “nudes” his fangirls keep sending him!”

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, clearly entertained. “So you are thinking about me getting nudes?”

Yoongi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you two not do this in front of me?”

But Wonwoo just smirks, turns to you with his obnoxiously open mouth like you were about to perform a tonsillectomy. 

“Ahhh…” he vocalizes and you’re left with no choice but to shovel a big bite towards his mouth.

He chomps away happily. “Thanks for your noods, noona.”

“Hajimaaa,” Yoongi deposits his bowl in the sink and storms to his room.

“You’ve really got some nerve pulling that shit without even brushing your teeth first,” you taunt him.

“Please, you’d still kiss me, noona. I just know it.”

But before you can react, he’s already jumping to another topic. "So I wanna take you out again."

You blink. That was… again, the balls on this dude. Maybe those fangirls really are boosting his confidence like no other.

"You do?"

"Mhm." Wonwoo nods, tapping his fingers idly against the table. "Unless…" He shifts slightly, picking an imaginary lint from his t-shirt. "…you’ve already picked hyung?"

You stiffen. You’re not answering that. 

And Wonwoo? He sees that.

“Where would you even take me?”

He smiles, “Just leave it all up to me.”

It’s well past midnight when you wander into Yoongi’s room, mischief brewing like the bowl of soup caged in your palms.

His monitor glows softly, headphones on, glasses perched low on his nose. He’s completely lost in his work—clicking through audio tracks, adjusting levels, frowning at something only he can hear.

You lean against the doorway, watching him for a moment before stepping inside.

“Yoongi.”

No response.

So you do what any normal, sane, mature person would do—you poke his cheek.

Yoongi winces instantly, before finally removing his headphones. “Mm?”

You grin, setting the steaming bowl down beside his keyboard. You see the split second of fear in his eyes, but to his credit, he overlooks the danger to his expensive equipment in favor of humoring you for your sudden appearance in his room.

“You want noods?”

His eyes narrow immediately.

“Is this a real question,” he asks slowly, “or another attempt to emotionally scar me?”

“I literally made you ramen, and this is the thanks I get?”

Yoongi huffs, finally setting his work aside. “You made this yourself?”

“Instant ramen is not that hard, Yoongi.”

“Then why do you always make me cook?”

You gasp. “I slaved over this, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Aish. Slaved over? You just said it’s not that hard.” He chuckles, shaking his head, but then—without a word—he picks up a bite of noodles and holds it out.

You blink.

“What—”

“You made it,” he says simply, nudging the chopsticks toward you. “Taste it first.”

You let him feed you, swallowing slowly, too aware of the way his eyes are on you.

“Not bad,” you murmur.

“Mm,” Yoongi hums, picking up his own bite. “Guess I’ll take your noods after all.”

Aha!

And that’s when you strike.

“Okay then.”

You tap your phone against his, the soft ding of a successful Quick Share (Samsung supremacy! Airdrop eat shit!) filling the quiet. You walk backwards a bit, planning to make a great escape once you see his reaction.

Nothing yet. Yoongi just watches intently, waiting for the transfer to go through. A tiny preview of the photo comes and goes, then—his entire body goes rigid.

He drops the chopsticks, grabs his phone so suddenly it’s almost comical as he swipes to find your little present.

Then, in a hushed, slightly wrecked sort of way—

“Oh, what the fuck.”

You bite your lip, observing as he exhales sharply through his nose, his gaze flicking between his phone and you, then back to his phone like he’s trying to make sense of what he is looking at.

A cute little selfie from your last beach trip—camera angle from above, offering a perfect view of sunblock-slicked cleavage, bikini straps barely visible. Popsicle in hand, tongue teasingly out, eyes bright with mischief. Not exactly nudes. He hasn’t earned those yet. But this doesn’t leave much to the imagination either.

Slowly, he places his phone down. Carefully. Deliberately.

And then, voice low and kinda menacing: “If you don’t get over here right now—”

Your breath catches, because he’s dead serious. His thighs part slightly, his hands flex once on the arm rest—like he’s ready for it, like he wouldn’t hesitate to pull you right onto him.

And you want to. So badly. But instead, you smirk.

“Finish your ramen first.”

Yoongi groans, throwing his head back slightly, but he’s smiling now, too—small, exasperated, but real.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“I know.”

You finally inch towards him, then he grabs your wrist, pulling you in as he wanted to, sitting sideways on his lap.

“You really had that just sitting in your gallery?” he asks.

“Maybe.”

His fingers skim along the inside of your arm, his breath warm against your cheek.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing,” you whisper, tilting your head slightly. “Yet.”

Yoongi chuckles under his breath, and finally, he kisses you.

It’s slow, warm, just a brush of lips at first, like he’s testing himself, testing you. But then his hand cups the back of your neck, and suddenly, you’re sinking into him, letting him pull you in completely. Just as quickly as it started, though, he pulls away.

A breath of space between you.

“Go to bed,” he murmurs, voice rough but fond.

“You too,” you whisper back.

He huffs a soft laugh as you stand up.

You take a slow step back, your heart still pounding way too hard as you slip toward the door.

And just before you leave, you call, “Good night, Yoongi.”

His gaze lingers, his lips twitching slightly before he finally looks back at his ramen. “Good night.”

And the last thing you see before the door clicks shut is the way his fingers hover over his phone—still debating whether to check that photo again.

:)

Chapter 6 >

A/N: heheheheh.... what did you think???

Permanent Taglist: (the rest to follow in a reblog)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[lovequartz]

under wisteria blossoms

⊱ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x reader

⊱ genre: small town, acquaintances to lovers, fluff & angst

⊱ warnings: historical inaccuracy, self-image and self-esteem issues, period-typical views (marriage/women)

⊱ word count: 7900+

⊱ tonight, i’ll send the glow of a firefly to somewhere near your window

⊱ notes: happy and somewhat relived to be able to share this, i think like aoybb this is something that i worked really hard on and tried my best with <3

The boy's skin feels warm and clammy underneath Wonwoo’s fingers. He’s glad the family called him when they did, thankfully the young boy’s condition had been better than he’d anticipated. He hangs his stethoscope back into its place over his shoulders and turns to the boy’s grandfather. 

“It’s a mild fever, he should be feeling better with a few doses of herbal tea and lots of rest,” Wonwoo pauses to pull the young boy’s shirt down and the sheet covering him, back up, “please don’t hesitate to call me if anything changes.” 

Your father walks the doctor to the door and bids him farewell with a firm handshake as well as a pat on the shoulder. As soon as the door shuts you move to change the washcloth resting on your nephew’s head.

“You could’ve greeted him properly rather than peek at him from the hallway,” your father teases. 

You shake your head as your hands busy themselves with wringing the washcloth. “He was so handsome,” you sigh, “I almost broke into a rash just staring at him.” You place the now cool fabric back into place across your nephew’s forehead, and press your moist hands against your cheeks in a futile effort to bring a chill to your warm face. Perhaps you’re the one with the fever now.

Your paths do not cross with the young and handsome doctor until sometime a week or two later. Your parents had insisted you bring him a small basket of persimmons on your morning delivery to thank him for Silas’s care, and your sister, Silas’s mother, had insisted that you bring your nephew with you.

So there you were, the pair of you, walking towards the town center to find Jeon Wonwoo’s office of practice. 

Silas squeezes your hand to get your attention and you glance toward him to let him know you’re listening. 

“Auntie,” he starts, “do you think I should become a doctor when I grow up?” 

You almost giggle but hold it in lest he thinks you’re laughing at him. His mother would probably run the streets in excitement if she’d just heard her son’s query. 

“Now why do I have a say in what you should be when you grow up? You can be whatever you want, I always tell you that.” 

His lips form a small pout before he replies; “You’re my best friend, of course you have a say.”

Tears try to fill your eyes before you will them away with a shake of your head. “Well as your best friend I say that you should be whatever makes you happy.” You tell him and lean down to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. “Now let’s hurry to Mister Jeon’s office so he can get his persimmons and you can go to afternoon classes.” 

The doctor’s office isn’t too hard to find, mostly due to the fact that there’s only one of them, and it’s fairly new to town.

As you and your nephew make your way to the entrance you notice the wisteria plants that span the awning. ‘They'll look lovely when they bloom in spring,’ you muse. 

The bell above the door chimes as the two of you enter and the young man sitting behind what you assume to be the reception desk nods in greeting. 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asks once you are closer to the desk. 

“Actually, I’m here with a delivery," you say, shyly holding up the basket, "and payment for Dr. Jeon's house visit." 

"Of course," he stands to receive the basket from you and sets it on the floor beside his chair. You watch him smooth down his dress shirt as he returns to his seat. The man then pulls open a drawer at his side and retrieves a medium sized journal, setting it in front of him and wetting his index finger to flip through its pages. 

"May I know the date the visit took place? As well as the patient's last name and address?"

You provide him with the information and watch as he skims through the cursive written on the journal's pages. 

As you converse with the man about payment you can't help but be thankful about how well behaved Silas is as you do. Although it might have been due to his fascination with the fish in a tank that sat in the waiting area, tucked next to some chairs and a table with a few newspapers, you're no less grateful. 

The two of you leave the office shortly after, your nephew a bit disappointed in not seeing Dr. Jeon, the man who has become the current subject of his admiration. 

"I'm sure we'll see him sometime soon," you say, trying to lift the boy's spirits, "it's a small town after all. Now, run along to class. Your mother will have my head if you're late again." 

Silas bids you farewell with a hug and you watch him jog down the road towards the schoolhouse, his bag swinging behind him. Unbeknownst to you that the doctor you'd been speaking about was watching it all from not too far away. 

Wonwoo is just shy of exhausted as he enters his practice. Removing his hat and tweed coat, holding onto them to hang them up in his office. 

Seungkwan stands from his chair to greet him but before he can utter a word Wonwoo lets out an almost comical sigh. 

"Please tell me I'm done with house visits for the day, I don't think I can handle another matriarch trying to convince me to marry their daughter." 

"You'll be happy to note that all the patients left today are mostly general check-ups." Seungkwan replies with a look of amusement. "Oh and before I forget the daughter of the persimmon farm came by with a basket for you and also took care of their bill for the visit two weeks ago," he continues. 

"I thought I caught a glimpse of her outside. Thank you, Seungkwan, I'll be in my office if you need me." 

Wonwoo closes his office door behind him as he enters, hanging up his hat and jacket on the coat rack to his immediate left. The basket of persimmons sits in the middle of his desk, covered with a cloth that had to have been hand-sewn. It's cream colored with a bouquet of embroidered flowers in the corner, beautiful work. It's a shame he can't enjoy the sweet fruit that lies beneath, work comes first. 

The bookstore's wood stairs creak as you ascend and in turn the bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter. Delight flashes across your face as you lock eyes with the girl who sits behind the counter. She returns your joy earnestly with a small smile and a wave of her hand. 

"You seem to be awfully chipper this afternoon." Jisun notes as you lean against the counter. 

"Maybe because I have it all to myself," You reply, with a smile. 

"I thought you had deliveries to do today?" She asks, confused. 

"Well, I did have one delivery today, to Dr. Jeon's office. My father said if I made that delivery and sent Silas off to classes I could take the afternoon off. I might have to do some this evening though."

At the mention of the doctor's name your friend gives you a coy look, which you ignore. 

Jisun and you fall into easy conversation between the calm buzz of the bookstore and her helping whatever customer needs it. You move to sit beside her behind the counter, to free up space. She tells you all about the planning being done by her mother for her upcoming wedding. Her engagement to the eldest son of the town's pottering family, Kim Doyoung, happened sometime this past winter. Jisun was over the moon when he had asked for her hand; you remember her crush on him from your school days. He was set to take over the family business in two to three years due to his father's declining health. 

"I'm thinking late summer or next autumn, because of the weather. My mother wants it to happen as early as possible, but Doyoung and I are okay with waiting a bit longer. His mother is fine with whatever I decide, she's truly wonderful." 

"I'm sure everything will work out. I just can't wait to atten– your response is cut off by the bell above the door chiming to announce a customer, your and Jisun's eyes snapping to the door. 

To your utter horror, Jeon Wonwoo enters the bookstore. 

You duck behind the counter quickly, praying he hasn't seen you yet and clutching your headscarf so it obscures your face better. 

Jisun gives you a confused look but you wordlessly plead for her to act normal, breathing a sigh of relief when she turns to greet the doctor. 

"Welcome, Dr. Jeon! I wasn't expecting you today."

You're glad Jisun is a better actress than she seems. 

Wonwoo returns her greeting and asks about the store. To which Jisun replies; "It's been fine, not too busy and not too slow." 

"How's Doyoung's father? I understand he's been taking his medicine diligently, but I haven't got around to seeing him yet as I was in the office all afternoon." 

She offers the doctor a smile, "He's doing much better, thankfully. We're all really grateful to you, Dr. Jeon." 

"Please, call me Wonwoo, I prefer to be 'Dr. Jeon' during work hours." 

Jisun smiles, "Of course."

Your squatting position soon becomes uncomfortable but you'd rather die than show yourself now, so you continue to listen to the two converse. 

"And the wedding? I know you've been planning." 

"Well, nothing is set in stone yet, but Doyoung and I are thinking perhaps late summer or even early autumn. Fret not, you and Seungkwan absolutely have a place on the guest list." 

"Looking forward to it then. Sorry to take up so much time with small talk, your father has a medical textbook saved for me. I told him I would be by this morning but I was a bit too busy." 

"I see, it's likely in his study then. I'll be just a minute!" She replies before turning around to the back of the bookstore, shooting you a wary glance before she disappears. 

You hear Wonwoo hum quietly to himself as he waits, and you silently pray for Jisun to make haste. Your legs are burning, not only from the weight of your body but also mostly due to the weight of your deceit. No matter, you cannot possibly let Jeon Wonwoo see you. 

"Here it is!" Jisun announces cheerfully as she returns, holding up the thick book with two hands and a sense of pride. 

"Thank you, Jisun. How much do I owe?" 

Jisun calculates the total along with a hefty discount sparing no room for argument, before wrapping the book up and handing it to the doctor. 

"You take care now Wonwoo! I'm sure I'll see you soon." Jisun says as she bids him farewell. 

You breathe a sigh of relief at the bell chiming, and the sound of the door closing. Grabbing onto the counter you hoist yourself back to standing much to the torment of your legs. 

"What was that about?" Jisun asks with a confused look as you wince and massage your knees. 

You open your mouth to respond but Jisun continues; "Don't you dare say 'nothing'." 

"I don't want him to see me." You admit, looking at your feet. 

"Why not?" She seems incredulous at your confession, "Is it because of your scar?" 

Your hand instinctively reaches to touch the long scar that runs through your left eye and down your cheek. The scar that "marred" you, the one that made people look twice, the only thing that prevents you from finding love. 

You sigh before giving Jisun a hollow smile, "I have to fetch Silas soon. I'll tell you more later." 

And with that you wave to Jisun and make your exit. 

The reminder of your scar brings awful memories back to the surface of your mind, and they are all you can think about as you walk to the schoolhouse.

Early Summer (Two Years Prior)

"Darling, is your sister ready? The Baes will be here any moment!" 

Your sister hurriedly pulls the curlers from your hair, and runs a brush through them. "Give us forty seconds Mama!" She looks you over in the mirror before giving you a reassuring smile, rushing to pick up the discarded curlers. 

"You look beautiful! Now go see Mama, quickly!" 

You meet your mother in the kitchen and she gives you a once over before kissing your cheek. "My lovely girl." 

Your mother instructs you on when to join them at the table after the Baes arrive and to bring the persimmons she's already cut with you. Figuring you still have time, you move to your sister's room where your nephew is playing. 

"Hi Silas." You say softly as you find a seat next to the boy. 

"Hi Auntie, what happened to your special meeting?" He asks with a tilt of his head. 

"The special people aren't here yet so I came to say hi one more time." You reply, pushing his hair out of his face, it was getting so long. 

You and your nephew chat for a bit more until the commotion from the front of the house draws away your attention; the Baes have arrived. 

The Baes were a modest family, a mom, a dad and two children, one boy and one girl. They owned the town jewelers, and were surprisingly well known. Bae Giwoong, the head of the family, was skilled with his hands, creating beautiful pieces that complimented anyone. Paired with a wife that had vast knowledge on jewels and precious stones, they had done quite well for themselves.

Hyunsik, the son, had come in earnest with his family to potentially ask for your hand. You were quite nervous, but seeing as your sister had married almost four years prior and had Silas, it was only natural that you were thinking about marriage as well. 

The meeting was dragging on. You had presented the persimmons just as your mother had instructed, before taking your seat at her side, across from Hyunsik who you offered a polite but reserved smile. He did not return it, only glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the conversation between your father and his. 

Soon, the chatter dwindled and the Baes announced their leave. Your father convinced Mr. Bae to have a cigar with him just outside the house before they departed. You busied yourself with clearing the table of the used forks and now empty cups of tea your mother had prepared.

After your tidying, you swiftly move through the house to the window at the front of it, intent on eavesdropping. 

Peering out you see the son and father chatting amongst themselves, your father probably in his study to fetch the cigar he promised Mr. Bae. Leaning closer to the ledge you're able to hear the two as they converse. 

"They're a good family, what do you think of her?" Mr. Bae asks. 

"They seem to be," Hyunsik agrees, "She's adequate, I suppose. If only she didn't have that unsightly scar," he continues. 

Your heart drops into your stomach at his words, as your hand unconsciously reaches to the scar. 

His father mulls over his words with a hum before replying; "You'd have to keep her under lock and key, the poor girl's mangled." 

The dread in your stomach hardens and you want nothing more than to stop hearing these harsh words, but you are frozen in place. 

Hyunsik nods in agreement, "It's really a shame. I'd be able to overlook it if it were anywhere else, I just can't imagine waking up to that face every morning."

You feel the tears before you register that you're crying, and the sensation is enough to knock you back to consciousness. You stand hurriedly and make your way to your room before anyone can see you in this pathetic state. 

 You pretend. In the day you are just yourself, getting errands done and living day to day. You pretend to agree, when your mother tells you that Bae Hyunsik would not be asking for your hand due to the fact that he believes you two wouldn't be compatible. At night you are inconsolable, crying into your pillow until your tears eventually put you to sleep. 

Silas senses a shift in your mood, but as a three year old he only does what he can. Seeking attention whenever you're sitting idle, laying his head on your lap while you stroke his hair. His little hands playing with your free one. 

Eventually, you learn to move on. As does Hyunsik when he marries the eldest daughter of Lee's dairy farm. 

His words, however, will stay with you forever. 

Drawn out of your memories by the clanging of the schoolhouse bell you quicken your pace, keeping eyes out for your nephew. He appears within a few moments, his own eyes searching for you. You wave to him when he finally finds you. 

"How were classes?" You ask as the boy bounds up to you, reaching to smooth his unruly hair. 

"Good!” He chirps, before launching into detail about his afternoon. Keeping the two of you entertained as you follow the road home. 

The days that follow glide by until eventually they all bleed into a week, a week since you’ve seen the young doctor. Your deliveries go as well as can be expected, though they have been slowing down, and your father is busy preparing the year’s saplings. Silas has gone off to visit his paternal grandparents who live a few towns away, your sister going along despite her relationship of apathy with her in-laws. She did say something about Henry’s younger brother finishing his woodworking apprenticeship so she was expected to be present. 

You find yourself bored without your small friend but find time to chat with Jisun every now and again. Miraculously you haven’t run into Wonwoo at all, though you’ve caught glimpses from afar and he has not gotten any less handsome. 

At dusk your mother finds you with a basket in her hands. 

"Did I forget a delivery?" You question eyes falling to the vermillion fruit. 

"No dear, your father is out with the trees still and it slipped my mind that I had promised Mrs. Lee these. You know her youngest just got engaged," She explains. 

"Ah right I had forgotten. I'll take care of it," you reply, taking the basket from your mother's hands and pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek. 

The walk to the Lee home is not long, but it is closer to the town than to your own home. You greet the few townspeople you come across on the way, offering them small smiles and polite nods. 

The greetings have you in a good mood so you have a little more pep in your step as you bound up the Lee family's porch, curling your fingers around the knocker when you make it to the door. 

"Coming!" You hear a girlish voice say, followed by the sounds of the door unlocking. 

With a slight tug of the door inwards you come face to face with Lee Daeun, the eldest Lee sister, one hand laid on the wood while the other cradles her very pregnant stomach. The polite smile on her face slips when her eyes flash with recognition. 

"I had assumed your mother would be dropping by, not…..you." 

You offer a shrug, "Mother sent me instead, sorry to disappoint." You reply jokingly, trying to ease the tension. 

Daeun doesn't respond right away, choosing to study you for a few moments. The silence becomes awkward quickly so you try your best to remedy it. 

"Congratulations to your sister, what a joyous occasion for her. And to yourself, I didn't know you were with child." You say with a warm smile, probably the most genuine thing the two of you had exchanged thus far. 

You hold out the basket to her, which she takes sliding it up her arm so it rests in the crook of her elbow.

"Yes, well, our family is quite satisfied with her fiancé. He's the son of an artisan, and they live a few towns eastward." Both her hands now rest on her stomach, "As for this one, it's only been a few months. Hyunsik is over the moon, and Momma insists on keeping me inside for the time being, so I don't get out much." Daeun's eyes seize you once more before she continues; "And yourself? I know your family has been searching for suitors, any success?" 

She may as well have doused you in cold water with the way her tone becomes icy. 

"Unfortunately not. I'm not too worried though, I know finding a suitable bachelor can take some time and I'm nothing if not patient." 

A scoff escapes her at your reply. "Worried? I feel you should be rather embarrassed. My youngest sister, a girl who we both watched play with mud when we were all children, is now engaged. Meanwhile you continue to age with no partner to call yours, as well as toting around your poor nephew pretending he's your own. I think it's time you face reality, nobody wants a scarred wife no matter how pretty she is." 

You are stunned into silence, fists clenched and nails biting into the skin of your palms. Every cell in your body fighting the urge to cry at the venom Daeun had spat at you for seemingly no reason at all. 

"Give your parents our family's thanks." Is the last thing she says before shutting the door in your face. 

You stare at the door for a few moments, tears starting to blur your vision, before you turn and hurry away from the Lee's home. 

Hot tears are blurring your vision as you head in the direction opposite your house. You want to find somewhere quiet to cry your eyes out before heading back to your residence and pretending everything is fine and dandy. 

Reaching closer to town, you stumble across the fountain just behind the main street, tucked between a few trees. A veranda shielding it from the setting sun with vines of wisteria weaved through its wood. The flowers are nowhere in sight as their blooming season is still a ways off. You, however, are too busy crying to care much about wisteria.

Shakily you manage to sit at the fountain's edge before your body is wracked with your sobs. Fingers fumble to pull the knot of your scarf resting against your chin loose, and once the fabric comes free you bury your face in it, your tears never once stopping. 

You don't know how long you sit there crying, removing your face from your tear stained head scarf every so often to breathe. 

A soft voice is the thing that finally brings you back to reality, and there before you with worry etched into his wrinkled brow is Jeon Wonwoo. 

Your mind blanks at the sight of him, and it feels as if someone has stuffed cotton in your ears as Wonwoo's lips move but you cannot hear a word he utters. His concerned frown deepens as he gets no response from you, leaning closer. It's as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you feel yourself falling backwards as if someone had grabbed onto the back of your dress and yanked. 

Wonwoo cries in surprise as he watches you fall towards the water, arms reaching out to grab you. The sound kicks your brain into gear, it's too late to stop your descent but you throw your hands back to catch yourself. A loud splash echoes through the small area before you are engulfed in the sensation of cold water drenching your skin and clothes. Wonwoo as he lunged to grab you had also met with the fountain water, his hands and forearms submerged, and his body leaning over top of yours. 

Silence buzzes between the two of you as the only thing you can do is stare at each other. It's only then do you truly realize the situation that you've found yourself in. Wonwoo's face is mere inches from your own and the only thing you can think is how much more handsome he looks up close. His strong jaw, sharp nose, and the flecks of honey that swim in the brown of his irises. 

You notice him studying your own face, and as his eyes drift over to the left you remember why you were crying in the first place. Your hand snaps up to cover your scar and this is what seems to break the trance between you and the doctor. Wonwoo can feel the blood rushing to his ears as he scrambles back to his feet, bowing his head and offering apology after apology.

 When you don't respond his eyes meet yours, and he notices you have not made any attempt to remove yourself from the fountain. Your green dress is bunched up over your knees, the fabric now dark due to the water, and your patterned head scarf still gripped in hand. 

Wonwoo's face still feels like it has been set ablaze but he offers you both of his hands, "May I?" 

You nod shakily before he leans over and your hands reach up to grasp his own. He pulls you firmly, but not yanking, and even lets one of your hands go to loop an arm around your waist for a more secure hold. 

You notice how firm his body feels against yours and how much taller he is than you'd thought now that you're practically pressed together. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

Wonwoo slowly removes his arm from your waist and his hand from yours, taking half a step back to give you some (much needed) space. 

"Are you alright? I feel awful about startling you, but I heard the crying and wanted to know if you were okay." 

"I'm fine," you reply, voice small, "my apologies for getting you wet." 

The doctor's lips twitch and you feel perhaps he wants to laugh at you. You wouldn't fault him, you are soaked to the bone, rivulets of water running down your legs beneath your dress. 

"Water under the bridge." 

You almost giggle at that, but duck your head down and compose yourself quickly. 

Wonwoo continues; "Would you mind walking with me to my practice? I live right above it, and would feel better if I could get you into something dry before escorting you home. I know you live a bit out of town." 

Before you can respond Wonwoo must have realized how he sounded. 

"I know because you left me the persimmons and I treated the young boy, though I didn't see you there. I have seen you around town with him though, just briefly of course, completely coincidentally. I don't go out of my way to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I promise, I'm not a strange person." Wonwoo rambles in an attempt to clear the air, though you're not sure it needed clearing in the first place. 

The space above Wonwoo’s office is quaint, what it lacks in size it makes up for in homey-ness. Books piled neatly from where they spill out of the bookshelf, a warm armchair nestled right beside it. A dining table with one chair, both a dark cherrywood, sits against the wall adjacent to the small kitchenette. There’s a small wood-burning stove that looks well loved. Everything in the space feels very Wonwoo to you. 

Speaking of, you can hear him rustling through the drawers in the other room. He ushered you in despite your protests, not wanting to drip all over his home. Once inside he disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a towel clutched in his hand, and then layed it across the floor in front of you. “Since you feel so strongly about not getting my floor wet,” he’d said, before disappearing once more. 

You fiddle with your fingers, still drenched to the bone, as your clothes drip drip drip onto the towel. 

Finally, Wonwoo exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him with a bundle of clothes tucked safely in his other arm. 

“I’m sure they won’t fit like a glove, but you’re likely grateful for dry clothes either way.” His tone is a bit teasing, and you can only nod in response with your ears feeling hot. 

“The bathroom is just opposite of my room,” He says, passing over the clothes to your hands, “take your time. It’s just about dark so I’ll be sure to walk you home. You can call your parents, or husband, when you’re dressed. I have a phone.” He continues. 

The ‘husband’ comment makes you bristle but you decide to clear the air with Wonwoo at a later time, desperately wanting to get out of this wet dress.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, and turn to scurry into the safety of the bathroom. 

You get dressed quickly, not bothering with your undergarments. You’d rather have wet undergarments than be bare underneath clothes that don’t even belong to you, the thought flushes your whole body with heat. 

Wonwoo directs you to the phone, it rests on a side table next to the armchair,  and you dial your house phone with urgency, despite the slowness of the crank dial. The line rings for a few moments, and as you hear the other line click “Mother?” tumbles from your lips. 

Your mother says your name with surprise, “Darling where are you? Are you still at the Lees’?” 

“No, something happened on the way home. But I’m with Doctor Jeon, you know Doctor Jeon? He treated Silas when he had that god-awful fever. Well, he helped me out, so I’m fine. He insisted I call you before he accompanied me home, so I was just letting you know Momma.” 

You listen to your mother talk for a bit more before you bid her goodbye, her voice ringing out a “Be safe on your way home!” before you set the receiver down. 

“Thank you for letting me use your phone, and for the clothes,” you say to Wonwoo, who sits across the room from you in that dining table chair. 

“Of course,” he replies, “now let's get you home.” 

The small talk as the two of you walk the path to your family home is pleasant enough. You find that Wonwoo has somewhat of an eclectic sense of humor, and he’s quite witty despite the seriousness of his profession. In no time your home is visible, and you feel a tinge of disappointment at its sight. 

“Well, I suppose this is where we part,” Wonwoo sighs as the two of you stand in front of the gate of your home. 

“I suppose,” you echo.

A long pause ebbs between you both as you gaze at each other.

Suddenly you feel a jolt go through you as you have a realization. You’d forgotten your dress on the floor of his bathroom. 

“My dress,” you say bashfully, “I left it in your bathroom.” 

“That’s okay, I’ll get it washed for you. You can come by the office in the next few days, I’ll have it nice and clean.” He assures you with a soft smile. 

“Thank you,” you reply. 

Before you can turn to leave Wonwoo continues; “I haven’t seen your boy around, Silas was it? How’s he fairing these days?” 

You offer the doctor a tight lipped smile, “His father took him to visit family a few towns over.” You think you have to clear this misunderstanding up before it's too late. 

“Also, he’s not mine. Silas, I mean, he’s my sister’s son. I’m not married, I’ve never been.” 

“I see,” Wonwoo replies, and you feel you may have offended him somehow at his tone but he continues; “That’s good then, I felt I may have been acting inappropriately towards you. Thinking you were married and all.” 

“I didn’t think you were acting inappropriately at all.” 

“That brings me relief. Then you won’t think me telling you how lovely I think you look would be inappropriate either? Considering you’re unmarried.” 

You feel your ears are deceiving you, because surely Jeon Wonwoo didn’t just say he thinks you look lovely. But as you gaze at his face, a handsome smirk paints his lips, perhaps your ears work just fine. 

It seems your mother has never had a more perfect sense of timing as she swings the front door open shouting your name. 

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo to call back to her; “I’m here! No need to shout.” 

You hear her footsteps as she makes her way to the gate, shooting Wonwoo an apologetic glance. He offers a soft smile in response. 

It isn’t long before you hear the rattling of the gate lock and your mother’s voice again “Honey, what are you doing loitering around outside…“ Her words trail off as she takes in Wonwoo standing across from you. Her gaze flits between the two of you, pausing at your state of dress; a linen shirt and black trousers that were a few sizes too big. Despite her obvious shock your mother paints on a lovely smile and bows her head in greeting to the doctor. 

“Oh my, Doctor Jeon, I had forgotten you’d be accompanying her home! Thank you for helping my daughter out, you’re quite the gentleman.” 

You shoot your mother an incredulous look, not wanting her to embarrass you further than you yourself already have. She ignores you, of course. 

Wonwoo bows his head with a smile, “Not at all. It was my pleasure, your daughter has quite the interesting personality.” 

“Doesn’t she? We have no idea where she gets it from, there’s no one like her in the family.” 

You assume your mother is trying to rope Wonwoo into having something to eat by the glint in her eye so you jump in. 

“I’m sure Wonwoo would like to head home, Momma. He has a bit of a walk back into town.” 

“Do you?” She turns to him, “We’d hate to keep you.” 

“I have some time,” Wonwoo assures her, “there’s no one waiting for me at home.” 

You can’t help but feel betrayed by Wonwoo’s choice to indulge your mother. 

“Really? Have you eaten? Let me pack some food for you to take!” 

And before any of you can say anything, your mother has Wonwoo’s wrist in her grip gently leading him through the front gate and to your house. 

You run a hand down your face before following. 

Your mother leads Wonwoo through the house, through the living room, to have him sit on the ledge just outside the living room doors that open up to the garden. 

“Now you wait right here,” your mother tells him, “I’ll have my daughter fetch you a drink while I pack up something for you!” 

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. 

She eyes you meaningfully before grabbing your arm to drag you to the kitchen. 

“There’s some cold yuzu tea in the fridge, take him a glass please.” She sets a medium sized cup onto a saucer, and you recognize it as a part of the china set your family typically uses for important guests. It’s white with some foliage painted on the side. 

You follow your mother’s command as she busies herself with packing side dishes, reaching past her into the fridge where the pot of yuzu tea sits. 

After pouring a cup you garnish it with a rosemary sprig you pluck from the plant sitting on the kitchen’s windowsill. You're careful not to spill as you make your way to where Wonwoo waits, your pace slow. 

He gives you a kind smile as you set the cup and saucer in front of him, thanking you in a soft voice. 

“Your mother made this?” He asks, after having a sip. The tea is quite refreshing, and it's probably one of the best yuzu teas he’s ever had. 

You shake your head. “I made the pot this time, usually whoever finds it running low makes it, between me and her of course. My older sister can’t brew tea to save her life, she takes after father.” 

“Well, it’s delicious. I suppose you’re quite the master when it comes to brewing tea.” 

You shake your head again, bashfully. You feel small under Wonwoo's fond gaze, not sure what is the appropriate way to act when he's showing you such kindness. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, with Wonwoo sipping at his tea and you trying to discreetly study his face. You know you've thought this before but he really is quite handsome. 

"The garden is beautiful, I don't think I've seen one built in the middle of a home like this before." 

"My great-grandfather built this house," you reply, moving so your body is parallel with Wonwoo's, both of you facing the open space. "He traveled a bit with my great-grandmother and when they built this house they took inspiration from some of the homes they stayed in on their travels." 

"I see." He replies, setting his now empty cup down, his knuckles brushing the side of your hand as he does so. 

You pull your hand away, as if burned, and heat flushes your body. 

Wonwoo doesn't comment on this thankfully but you think you see the edge of his lips twitch. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Your mother's voice rings out. Walking to where you and Wonwoo sit with the containers of food wrapped up in an orange cloth. She sets it between you and Wonwoo as she kneels.

"I don't know what you like, so I added a bit of everything! I snuck in a couple of persimmons as well, we have more than enough." 

"Thank you kindly," Wonwoo says sweetly, giving your mother a smile. 

"It's no trouble dear! And don't worry about the containers, I'll have this one fetch them from you whenever." She says, motioning to you. 

"Well, thank you again. I should be getting on my way now, I've overstayed my welcome it seems." 

"Oh not at all!" Your mother pats his arm, "We're always happy to have you Doctor Jeon. My daughter will see you out, don't be a stranger now!" 

Wonwoo gathers the cloth in his fist, and the cup and saucer in his free hand. You take the china, passing it to your mother before leading Wonwoo back towards the entrance of your home. 

Soon you are in the exact same setting you were when you had arrived; you and Wonwoo standing across from each other at the gate. 

"My apologies for my mother, she's the type to flit around even if you tell her to sit still." 

"Not at all. She's quite the character, but I can tell she's also immensely kind. I now know where you get it from." The smile on Wonwoo's lips is teasing and you think about how nice it is to have someone compliment you. 

After a few more short moments of small talk you urge the doctor to be on his way. The sun had already sunk low behind the horizon and the path back to town settled in darkness. You hurry to grab him a lantern, just to help him light his way home, as the roads would absolutely be dark until about halfway into town. 

Wonwoo promises to make it home safely, and he watches you enter your house before turning and making his way to his own. 

Later that night you lay awake, palm pressed to your racing heart, replaying the moment Wonwoo called you lovely over and over again in your mind.

The next few days are spent with you staying busy, too busy even to go see Wonwoo for your dress. Pruning the persimmon trees and overall maintenance of the farm are the allotted tasks that fall to you. The workload is a bit heavy due to your sister and her family’s absence. 

You’ve taken to sleeping in Wonwoo’s linen shirt, his pants have been washed and folded, but perhaps selfishly, you can't bring yourself to part from his shirt. It smells like him, petrichor with a light musk and the hint of something floral. It's intoxicating and the scent lulls you to sleep better than any tea you’ve ever had. 

Sadly, you aren’t meant to hold on to the young doctor’s clothes forever. You have your mother wash the shirt, and find a bag to put Wonwoo’s clean clothes in so they can be returned to him. You intend to slip out quickly, but when your mother catches wind of your plans she rushes off to grab a few persimmons to send with you. 

“Please, he’ll be sick of persimmons at this rate,” you whine. 

She ignores your concern, slipping the wrapped fruits into your hand. “Nonsense! Nobody can be sick of persimmons,” she argues. 

Soon, you are on your way to the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, with the persimmons in tow. The walk to town is pleasant enough, and you get a sense of tranquility with nobody else on the path except for yourself and the occasional woodland creature that makes an appearance. 

You made a point to doll yourself up just a bit, wanting to leave Wonwoo with a better impression of yourself than last time. You don’t have high hopes, but perhaps just a hope that Wonwoo holds any feelings other than cordiality towards you. Your dress today is a dusty pink, and you’d found your sister’s rouge and applied a smidge to your cheeks and lips. 

The air is somewhat brisk, as it usually is in early fall, but the chill still makes you shiver slightly. Red and yellow tipped leaves sway in the crisp wind, it is undoubtedly autumn. Soon enough you are at the entrance of town, face burning with embarrassment as you catch a glance of the fountain, remembering the events that transpired there. 

Your pace quickens. 

As you come upon Wonwoo’s practice, you are surprised to see him waiting outside. Giving you a small smile and a wave when he notices you. 

“Good Morning,” he greets you with a honeyed voice.

“Morning,” is your soft reply, “do you always mill about outside this early?” 

This makes the doctor chuckle. “No, not usually. I saw you coming up the path from my window, so I figured it was only right that I came to greet you.” 

“Oh,” you try to fight the heat blooming on your cheeks, “I have your clothes, freshly laundered. Mother thought it pertinent to slip in a few persimmons even though I told her you’re probably sick of them by now.” 

The smile has not left his lips yet, and he reaches out to take the bag from your hand, fingers brushing against your own. “I could never be sick of persimmons,” he replies, “after all, everytime I have one I think of you.” 

The heat rushes back tenfold, you are beyond flustered and you think Wonwoo notices because of the way his lips quirk up. You feel your brain has been fried at just those few words and you struggle to form a reply.  Thankfully, Wonwoo takes pity on you, despite being the cause of your non-functioning state. 

“Your dress is upstairs,” he tells you, “I didn’t want it to get wrinkled so I hung it up as best I could. If you’d like, we could go upstairs and retrieve it or I can always bring it down to you.” 

“We can go upstairs,” your voice small as you reply, your heart fluttering shamelessly in your chest at the thought of being in Wonwoo’s cozy home once more.

The fluttering of your heart does not stop even as the two of you climb the steps.

You get a lovely sense of warmth when the two of you enter, and you look at the wood stove still kindling. Wonwoo guides you to sit in his armchair, disappearing to the area his kitchenette is. You watch him grab a resting teapot and pour whatever resides within it into a mug. The mug is then wordless placed in your hands, and you murmur a soft “thank you”. 

“Apple blackberry tea,” he explains, “I thought you might need some warming up from the chill.” 

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you reply softly, “thank you.”

A small smile twitches at Wonwoo’s lips as he watches you cradle the mug and bring it to your lips to taste the tea. “Your dress is in the other room, give me a moment.”

You nod, taking another slow sip of the delicious tea. Both fruits pair surprisingly well, and it seems to be the perfect blend for a crisp autumn day. 

Wonwoo returns, your dress folded meticulously and resting in his hands. Despite how well worn it is it looks almost brand new, testament to his care of it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble!” You stand to take the dress from Wonwoo’s hand, fondness swimming in your chest.

The man just shakes his head, “It was no trouble. It's something that belongs to you so I wanted to make sure it returned to you in an adequate condition.” 

You press the garment to your chest, your eyes meeting his. You try to think of what to say to convey your gratitude but nothing seems good enough. 

It's almost as if Wonwoo turns bashful under your gaze as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t intend to keep you longer, I would accompany you back to your home but unfortunately I have a few patients to see this morning.”

You snap back to reality at this, “Oh! Don’t apologize please, you’ve done more than enough for me, Wonwoo. I can make my way home no problem. Thank you again, for everything.” You give him a nod, walking past him to the door. However, before you can turn the knob you feel a hand at the crook of your arm, pulling you gently to a halt. 

Glancing behind yourself, you see that Wonwoo has stopped you. An emotion you can’t quite place swims within his eyes, and it just adds to your confusion. 

“Wonwoo..?” You say slowly, when neither of you has spoken for a stretch of moments. 

He uses his delicate grip on you to turn your body so you two face each other once more, and the hand on your arm raises slowly to hold your cheek. Suddenly, his thumb is rubbing against your scar gently. He whispers your name and you feel as if you’ve been caught in a trance, you can’t speak, move, or think. All you can do is breathe and feel Wonwoo’s touch. 

His eyes trace the lines of your face, before they find yours. “From this moment onwards, I intend to court you. If you’ll have me.”

His words stun you, a moment of silence passing between the two of you before it is broken by your mouth, moving faster than your mind can. “Yes, I’ll have you. Of course I will,” You say breathily. 

A smile tugs on Wonwoo’s lips and then he is leaning down to brush his lips over your scar, his hand falling from your cheek and finding your own. 

⊱ notes: as always thank you for reading! it really was a pleasure to write this doctor wonu is very dear to me <3333

[bratzkoo]

merging arrangements | wonwoo pt. 3

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, smut Rating: NC-17 Word count: 4k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. No smut scene here but I'll keep the rating NC-17. I'm sorry for rushing the fic but I'm planning on taking a break for a while and want to queue up as many fics as i can so my blog will update even if i'm technically on hiatus.

summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries , @childish-fear

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Seoul skyline glittered in the early evening light as Wonwoo stood at the window of his office, a tumbler of whiskey untouched in his hand. The past few weeks since returning from his honeymoon with Y/N had been a whirlwind of business meetings, family dinners, and stolen moments with his new wife. Yet despite the growing comfort between them, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Y/N seemed distracted lately, her smiles not quite reaching her eyes.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. "Come in," he called, turning to see Mingyu enter, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Hey," Mingyu said, fidgeting with his tie. "Got a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about."

Wonwoo nodded, gesturing to the plush leather chairs in the corner of his office. As they sat, he noticed the tension in his friend's shoulders, the way Mingyu's eyes darted around the room, avoiding direct contact.

"What's going on, Mingyu? You look like you're about to confess to a crime," Wonwoo joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mingyu let out a strained laugh. "Not a crime, exactly, but... well, it's complicated." He took a deep breath, then blurted out, "I'm married. To Ela. We've been married for six months."

The words hung in the air between them. Wonwoo blinked, trying to process the information. "Married? To Dr. Ela? But... how? When?"

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Wonwoo recognized as a sign of his friend's agitation. "It happened fast. We've been dating for a while, and when her father started pressuring her to consider an arranged marriage with some businessman's son, we just... we couldn't bear the thought of being separated. So we eloped."

"Six months ago," Wonwoo repeated, his mind racing. "That was right before..."

"Right before your engagement to Y/N was announced," Mingyu finished. "I wanted to tell you, but with everything happening so fast with your marriage, and the merger... it never seemed like the right time."

Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, trying to reconcile this new information with what he thought he knew about his best friend. "Does anyone else know?"

Mingyu shook his head. "Just Y/N. Ela told her recently. We've been keeping it quiet because of Ela's family. Her father... he wouldn't approve of her marrying someone who isn't from old money."

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Wonwoo. Here he was, in an arranged marriage that was slowly evolving into something real, while his best friend had secretly married for love and was forced to hide it.

"Why tell me now?" Wonwoo asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

Mingyu's expression softened. "Because you're my best friend, Wonwoo. And because... well, I've seen how things are developing between you and Y/N. I thought maybe, if you knew about Ela and me, it might give you hope. That love can grow in unexpected places."

Wonwoo felt a warmth spread through his chest at Mingyu's words. Despite the shock of the revelation, he couldn't help but feel happy for his friend. "I'm glad you told me," he said softly. "And I'm happy for you, truly. But Mingyu, you can't keep living like this. Hiding your marriage, sneaking around... it's not fair to either of you."

Mingyu nodded, looking relieved to have finally shared his secret. "I know. We're working on a plan. Ela's making a name for herself at the hospital, building her own reputation separate from her family. Once she's more established, we're hoping her father might be more accepting."

As they continued to talk, Mingyu sharing stories of his secret romance and married life, Wonwoo found himself reflecting on his own relationship with Y/N. They had started as strangers, brought together by family obligations and business interests. But now, weeks into their marriage, he was beginning to see glimpses of something deeper, something that made his heart race and his palms sweat like a schoolboy with his first crush.

Later that evening, as Wonwoo made his way home, his mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Mingyu's revelation. He entered the apartment he shared with Y/N, calling out a greeting as he removed his shoes.

"In here," Y/N's voice came from the living room. Wonwoo followed the sound, finding her curled up on the couch with a medical journal. The sight of her, glasses perched on her nose, hair pulled back in a messy bun, made his heart skip a beat.

"How was your day?" he asked, loosening his tie as he sat beside her.

Y/N marked her place in the journal and set it aside. "Busy. There was a multi-car pileup on the highway, so the ER was chaos for most of the afternoon." She rubbed her temples, and Wonwoo resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. They were still navigating the boundaries of their physical affection outside of the bedroom.

"Sounds stressful," he said instead. "Have you eaten? I could order something in."

Y/N shook her head. "I grabbed something at the hospital. But thank you." She paused, studying his face. "Is everything okay? You look... preoccupied."

Wonwoo debated for a moment whether to share Mingyu's secret, but decided against it. It wasn't his story to tell. "Just a long day," he said with a small smile. "How about we watch one of those medical dramas you like? I could use a good laugh at their inaccuracies."

Y/N chuckled, the sound warming Wonwoo from the inside out. "Alright, but don't blame me when you start yelling at the TV about improper CPR techniques."

As they settled in to watch, Wonwoo couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable this felt. Sitting with Y/N, laughing at the ridiculous plot twists of the drama, occasionally brushing hands as they reached for the snacks between them. It wasn't the passionate romance of Mingyu and Ela's secret marriage, but it was something. Something real, something growing.

Little did Wonwoo know, the peace of this moment was about to be shattered by revelations that would shake the very foundation of their budding relationship.

---

The next day found Y/N in the break room of the hospital, her head in her hands as she tried to make sense of the turmoil in her heart. The door opened, and she looked up to see Alexys and Ela enter, deep in conversation.

"I'm telling you, that new resident is a disaster waiting to happen," Alexys was saying. "I swear, if he mixes up another blood sample, I'm going to— Y/N? Are you okay?"

Y/N tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "I'm fine, just... thinking."

Ela, ever perceptive, sat down beside her. "Thinking about what? You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

The concern in her friends' eyes broke something in Y/N. Before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out. "I think I still have feelings for Seung-cheol."

The silence that followed her confession was deafening. Alexys, who had been reaching for a cup of coffee, froze mid-motion. Ela's eyes widened, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise.

"But... but you're married," Alexys sputtered, finally finding her voice. "To Wonwoo. Tall, handsome, ridiculously rich Wonwoo. Who, might I add, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars."

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands again. "I know, I know. God, don't you think I know that? It's just... Seung-cheol and I, we have history. And being around him every day, seeing him care for patients, remembering all the plans we used to make..."

"Oh, Y/N," Ela said softly, rubbing soothing circles on her friend's back. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Since the wedding, I think," Y/N admitted. "Maybe even before. I thought it would go away, that once I got to know Wonwoo better, these feelings for Seung-cheol would fade. And they have, in a way. Wonwoo is... he's wonderful. Kind, supportive, everything I never expected in an arranged marriage. But then Seung-cheol will do something, say something, and it all comes rushing back."

Alexys, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly exploded. "Are you kidding me right now? Y/N, do you have any idea how complicated this is? You're married! To a chaebol heir! Your families have merged companies! And now you're telling us you have feelings for the guy from ward?"

"Paid department," Y/N corrected weakly, but Alexys wasn't finished.

"Whatever! The point is, this isn't some drama where you can just follow your heart and everything works out. There are real consequences here. For you, for Wonwoo, for both your families. Not to mention poor Seung-cheol, who's probably been pining away this whole time thinking he missed his chance."

Ela shot Alexys a warning look. "What Alexys is trying to say, in her uniquely tactless way, is that this is a very delicate situation. Y/N, have you talked to Wonwoo about any of this?"

Y/N shook her head, feeling tears prick at her eyes. "How can I? We're just starting to build something real. If I tell him I have feelings for someone else... it would destroy him. And probably end our marriage before it's really begun."

"Okay, okay, let's all take a deep breath," Ela said, ever the voice of reason. "Y/N, you need to really think about what you want here. Are these feelings for Seung-cheol just nostalgia for what might have been? Or are they something deeper?"

"I don't know," Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. "That's the problem. I don't know what I feel anymore."

Alexys, who had been pacing the break room, suddenly stopped. "Oh my god," she said, her voice rising in pitch. "Oh my god. This is insane. We're in the middle of a real-life love triangle. A married love triangle. With chaebols and secret feelings and... oh my god, I think I'm having a panic attack."

"You're having a panic attack?" Y/N said incredulously. "I'm the one living this nightmare!"

"Ladies, please," Ela interjected, but her own composure was starting to crack. "We need to stay calm and— oh, who am I kidding? This is a disaster. Y/N, how did we end up here? First Mingyu and I with our secret marriage, and now you with your secret feelings, and... oh god, is this karma? Is the universe punishing us for all those times we sneaked extra pudding cups from the cafeteria?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Y/N couldn't help but let out a watery laugh. "I'm pretty sure the universe has bigger concerns than stolen pudding cups, Ela."

"You'd be surprised," Alexys muttered. "Those things are like gold around here." She took a deep breath, visibly trying to collect herself. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You're married to Wonwoo, who you're starting to have real feelings for, but you also have lingering feelings for Seung-cheol, who you've known longer and had a connection with before your arranged marriage. Meanwhile, Ela here is secretly married to Wonwoo's best friend, which adds a whole other layer of complication to this mess. Did I miss anything?"

"Just the part where both our families are expecting an heir to secure the company merger," Y/N added glumly.

"Right, because this situation needed more pressure," Alexys said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Anything else? Any other bombs you want to drop? Maybe you're secretly a long-lost princess or something?"

Y/N shook her head, a hysterical giggle bubbling up in her throat. "No, I think that about covers it."

The three friends looked at each other, the full weight of the situation settling over them. Then, as if on cue, they all burst into laughter. It wasn't happy laughter, but rather the kind that comes when a situation is so absurd, so overwhelming, that the only response left is to laugh or cry.

"Oh god," Ela gasped between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "What are we going to do?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, her own laughter subsiding into hiccups. "I just... I needed to tell someone. To get it off my chest before I exploded."

Alexys, who had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, shook her head in disbelief. "Well, consider it thoroughly off your chest and splattered all over this break room. Seriously, Y/N, only you could turn an arranged marriage into a K-drama worthy love triangle."

"It's not like I planned this," Y/N protested weakly.

"Of course not," Ela soothed. "But Y/N, you know you're going to have to make a decision eventually, right? You can't keep going on like this, torn between Wonwoo and Seung-cheol. It's not fair to either of them, and it's certainly not fair to you."

Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of her friend's words. "I know. I just... I need time to sort out my feelings. To figure out what's real and what's just... nostalgia or fear or whatever this is."

"Well, you've got us," Alexys said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Whatever you decide, whatever happens, we've got your back. Even if I think you're certifiably insane for getting yourself into this situation in the first place."

"Thanks, I think," Y/N said dryly. She looked at her friends, feeling a rush of affection for these women who were willing to weather this storm with her. "I don't know what I'd do without you two."

"Probably make much more sensible life choices," Ela quipped, earning a weak smile from Y/N.

As the three friends sat in the break room, the gravity of Y/N's confession settling around them like a heavy blanket, none of them noticed the shadow that passed by the partially open door. None of them saw Wonwoo, who had come to surprise Y/N with lunch, freeze in his tracks at the sound of his wife's voice. And none of them saw the play of emotions across his face – shock, hurt, confusion, and finally, a deep, aching sadness – as he quietly backed away from the door, Y/N's words echoing in his mind.

"I think I still have feelings for Seung-cheol."

The lunch in Wonwoo's hand suddenly felt like a lead weight. He turned and walked away, his mind reeling, his heart breaking with every step. The truth had been unveiled, but at what cost?

---

Wonwoo found himself wandering the streets of Seoul, the bustling city a blur around him as Y/N's words played on repeat in his mind. He had come to the hospital on a whim, wanting to surprise Y/N with lunch from her favorite café. Now, he wished he had never set foot in the place.

He replayed every interaction he'd had with Y/N since their wedding, searching for signs he might have missed. Had her smiles been forced? Her laughter hollow? Had every tender moment between them been a lie?

No, he decided. Whatever Y/N's feelings for Seung-cheol, Wonwoo couldn't believe that everything between them had been false. He had seen the genuine surprise in her eyes when he supported her career, felt the real warmth in her embrace when they lay together at night. There was something there, something real growing between them. But was it enough to overcome her history with Seung-cheol?

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city, Wonwoo found himself in a small park. He sat heavily on a bench, his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do with this information? Confront Y/N? Pretend he had never heard? The thought of facing her, of seeing the guilt in her eyes when she realized he knew, made his stomach churn.

"Wonwoo-ssi? Are you alright?"

The voice startled him, and he looked up to see Seung-cheol standing before him, concern etched on his features. For a moment, Wonwoo felt a surge of irrational anger. This was the man his wife had feelings for, the one who might steal her away. But as quickly as it came, the anger faded, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.

"Seung-cheol-ssi," Wonwoo acknowledged, straightening up. He gestured to the empty space beside him. "Please, sit."

Seung-cheol hesitated for a moment before taking a seat, maintaining a respectful distance. An awkward silence fell between them, the air heavy with unspoken words and shared history.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Seung-cheol finally said, his voice carefully neutral. "Is everything okay? You looked... troubled."

Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh. "Troubled. Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it." He turned to look at Seung-cheol, really look at him. This was the man Y/N had history with, the one who still held a piece of her heart. Wonwoo searched his face, trying to see what Y/N saw.

"Can I ask you something, Seung-cheol-ssi?" Wonwoo said abruptly.

Seung-cheol nodded, a wary look in his eyes. "Of course."

"Did you love her? Before... before our marriage was arranged. Did you love Y/N?"

The question hung in the air between them, charged with emotion. Seung-cheol's eyes widened, a myriad of emotions flashing across his face – surprise, pain, regret.

"I... yes," Seung-cheol admitted softly. "I did. I do. But Wonwoo-ssi, you have to understand, I never—"

Wonwoo held up a hand, cutting him off. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just... I needed to know." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I heard Y/N talking to her friends today. She still has feelings for you."

Seung-cheol's sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the quiet park. "Wonwoo-ssi, I... I don't know what to say. I never meant to come between you and Y/N. When your marriage was announced, I stepped back. I've tried to be respectful, to maintain proper boundaries."

"I know," Wonwoo said, surprising himself with the lack of anger in his voice. "I've seen how you interact with her at the hospital. You've been... a good friend to her. A support."

"She's an amazing woman," Seung-cheol said softly. "Brilliant, compassionate. Any man would be lucky to have her love."

Wonwoo nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and pain at Seung-cheol's words. "She is. And that's why... that's why I can't just let her go without a fight."

Seung-cheol looked at him, surprise evident in his expression. "What do you mean?"

Wonwoo took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "The truth is, Seung-cheol-ssi, I've been in love with Y/N for years. Long before our marriage was arranged. I fell for her at a charity gala years ago, watching her passionately discuss her dreams of becoming a nurse. Her determination, her compassion... I was captivated from that moment on."

Seung-cheol's eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting this revelation.

Wonwoo continued, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "When our families arranged this marriage, I thought it was a dream come true. A chance to finally be close to her, to build a life together. But I never wanted it to be just a business arrangement. These past weeks, getting to know her, seeing all the sides of her I'd only imagined before... it's only made me fall deeper in love with her."

The admission hung in the air between them, a challenge and a confession all at once.

"So what now?" Seung-cheol asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo stood, brushing off his pants. "Now, I go home to my wife. I fight for our marriage, for the love that I've carried for years and that I hope can grow between us. And you... you respect her choice, whatever that may be."

Seung-cheol nodded slowly, standing as well. "For what it's worth, Wonwoo-ssi, I think you're a good man. Y/N is lucky to have you."

"Thank you," Wonwoo said, extending his hand. Seung-cheol took it, the handshake firm and respectful. As they parted ways, Wonwoo felt a strange sense of clarity. The path ahead wouldn't be easy, but he knew what he had to do.

When Wonwoo arrived home, the apartment was dark and quiet. For a moment, he thought Y/N might not be home, but then he saw a sliver of light under the bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, he made his way down the hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He knocked softly before entering. Y/N was sitting on the bed, still in her scrubs, her hair a mess as if she'd been running her hands through it repeatedly. She looked up as he entered, and Wonwoo's heart clenched at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes.

"Wonwoo," she said, her voice hoarse. "Where have you been? I was worried."

He moved to sit beside her on the bed, maintaining a small distance between them. "I'm sorry. I needed some time to think."

Y/N nodded, twisting her hands in her lap. "Wonwoo, there's something I need to tell you. I—"

"I know," he interrupted gently. "About your feelings for Seung-cheol. I overheard you talking to Alexys and Ela at the hospital today."

Y/N's sharp intake of breath was loud in the quiet room. "Oh god," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "Wonwoo, I'm so sorry. I never meant... I didn't want you to find out like this."

Wonwoo reached out, taking her hand in his. "I know. And I'm not angry, Y/N. I'm hurt, yes. Confused. But not angry."

"You should be," Y/N said, a sob breaking free. "I'm a terrible wife. We're just starting to build something real, and I'm ruining it with these... these lingering feelings."

Wonwoo squeezed her hand, waiting until she met his gaze. "You're not a terrible wife, Y/N. You're human. We entered this marriage as strangers, with our own histories, our own emotional baggage. It's natural that there would be... complications."

Y/N stared at him, disbelief written across her features. "How can you be so understanding? I just admitted to having feelings for another man."

"Because I love you," Wonwoo said simply, the words falling from his lips with surprising ease. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I believe that what we're building together is worth fighting for."

Y/N's breath caught, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "Wonwoo, I... I don't know what to say. I care for you, deeply. What's growing between us, it's real and beautiful and I don't want to lose it. But these feelings for Seung-cheol, they're confusing everything."

Wonwoo nodded, reaching up to wipe away her tears. "I know. And I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. I'm not giving you an ultimatum. What I'm saying is... I'm here. I'm committed to us, to our marriage. And I'm willing to work through this, together, if you are."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opened them, Wonwoo saw a mix of gratitude, affection, and determination in their depths. "I want to try," she whispered. "I want to work through this. With you."

Wonwoo felt a weight lift from his chest at her words. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she cried, her tears soaking into his shirt. They had a long road ahead of them, full of difficult conversations and emotional hurdles. But as he held his wife, feeling her heartbeat against his chest, Wonwoo felt a spark of hope.

Their marriage may have started as an arrangement, but it had become something more. Something worth fighting for. And fight they would, together, against all odds.

As the night deepened around them, Wonwoo and Y/N remained entwined, the first truthful words of their new chapter hanging in the air between them. The truths had been unveiled, painful and raw. But with those truths came the possibility of a deeper understanding, a stronger bond.

The future was uncertain, but for now, they had this moment. This honesty. This chance to build something real from the ashes of their arranged beginning.

And for now, that was enough.

[mangocustard16]

SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

f: fluff a: angst c: comfort h: crack m: mature/suggestive e: event req: requested ♡ : my fav

events彡:: 200 followers ♡ 500 followers ongoing ♡

enhypen masterlist

➳ choi seungcheol / s.coups:

blooms of love | f ♡ | halloween playdate | f | [10:15 pm] | f , e , req | the unattainable muse | a |

➳ yoon jeonghan:

dilemma | a | it was always you | f | [10:02 pm] | f , c | twinkling destiny | f | home is wherever you are | f , c , e , req |

➳ hong jisoo / joshua:

romanticized version of you | f ,c | baking hearts | f | [8:30 a.m] | f , c, ♡ | to sweet endings and even sweeter beginnings | f , e , req |

➳ wen junhui / jun:

jun's secret | f |

➳ kwon soonyoung / hoshi:

he's just my roommate | f , a | fair date | f | first kiss | f, e, ♡ |

➳ jeon wonwoo:

starry cinema night | f | ultimate bias | f | smau | profiles | partI. | partII. | ♡ The happiest 100 days | f, e, req | smau | oneshot |

➳ lee jihoon / woozi:

melodic promises | f |

➳ lee seokmin / dk:

fireflies and memories | f | unpacking love | f | See ya' | f , c |

➳ kim mingyu:

clumsy heart | f | lazy days of love | f , c, ♡ | jacket | f | smau | a shower of love | f | sweet home | f ,♡ | [2:34 a.m] | f | r/askreddit | f , ♡ | [10:23 pm] | f , e , ♡ |

➳ xu minghao / the8:

sunrise sweetness | f , ♡ | art and heart | f | midnight surprises | f | another cliche love story | f , req , e |

➳ boo seungkwan:

scholarly sparks | f | part 1 | part 2 | is stalking my husband a crime | f , ♡ | smau |

➳ chwe hansol / vernon:

unrequited seasons | a | [3:04] | f , e , c , req | first date (vernon's version) | f , req , e |

➳ lee chan / dino:

[9:15 p.m] | f , ♡ |

Headcanons:

➳ morning sunshines | f , c | ot13

➳ Seventeen as display of affection | f | ♡

➳ Seventeen as your older brothers | f |

➳ Texting "He's gone, you can come over now" to seventeen | f , smau | ot13

➳ Hitting on seventeen pretending to be someone else | h , smau | ot13

➳ seventeen's reaction to you playfully dodging their kisses | f |

hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit

➳ Seventeen's reaction to catching you watch other member's fancams | f |

'95 liners

➳ Seventeen's reaction to you not recognising them when drunk | f |

hip hop unit | performance unit

➳ bf!Seventeen | f , req |

seungcheol | jeonghan | joshua | junhui | hoshi | wonwoo | woozi | minghao | mingyu | dokyeom | seungkwan | vernon |

➳ Seventeen's recation to their s/o being doctor/surgeon | f |

mingyu, seungkwan, joshua, jeonghan, scoups, dino

➳ Seventeen texting you "what position y'all in🤨?" | m |

hyung line | maknae line

last edited: 240629

[hoshipills]

My Perfect Muse

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!painter!reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Being in a relationship for 2 months, you just realised how much of a paintable face your boyfriend has.

Warnings: None.

Word count:0.5k

There's no way you haven't noticed this in the past two months.

Your boyfriend was simply sitting in the chair wearing a hoodie that he probably worn thrice this week, focused on the game he has been playing on his computer for almost two hours. He has his glasses on, eyes a little tired but he really didn't care.

You had been sitting in the chair beside him for a few minutes now, watching him as he played his game. And then it hit you – it was a sudden realization, really, but once you had it, you couldn't believe you hadn't seen it all along. His face was so paintable, how had you not noticed it before?

He suddenly let out a sigh of victory, his serious face breaking into a small smile as he looked at you. " What are you staring at, baby?"

You continued to stare at him as if you haven't heard the words that just left his mouth. " I wanna paint you.", you blurted out with a blank face. Your words caught him off guard.

He blinked a few times, processing your words.

"Paint me?", he wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't have a problem with you painting him but your confession was so sudden he had to think for a second.

You nodded your head, getting up from your chair and moving closer to him, " Your face is so gorgeous, I just want to paint it.", you pouted. "Please, be my muse."

A light shade of pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes darting toward the computer to avoid getting more flustered by looking into your eyes.

"When will you start painting?" he asked as he shut off his computer, turning to you again, his face more confident than before.

You grinned widely, bending down to peck his lips. " Tomorrow?", you asked and he nodded, chuckling at your cuteness.

And that's how Wonwoo found himself in your apartment, surrounded by your paint supplies spread across the table.

The canvas stood before you, and he sat a little further away in the chair, watching you pick a few paints and set yourself to start painting.

You observed his face for a few seconds. You see his face everyday, you perfectly knew the way his nose curved and his eyebrows arched. The way his lips turned when he smiled and his eyes crinkled.

He shifted a bit, still not entirely used to being the centre of attention. "How do you want me to pose?" he asked, trying to sound casual but you could hear the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Just be yourself," you replied softly, picking up your brush. "Relax and wait for the magic to happen.", you swung your brush as if it were a wand.

He let out a small laugh, settling himself in a comfortable position. You dipped the brush into the paint, starting the picture by gentle strokes on the canvas.

" You really think I am paintable?", he asked after a few minutes of watching you work on the canvas, his voice low and tender.

You stopped your moments to look at him, " Are you kidding? You are my perfect muse."

~~

[mocchiixxx]

La Mia Fuga (My Escape) Yandere Seventeen Series | #8 : Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Dark Romance, Psychological Thriller, Obsession, Cat-and-Mouse

Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Summary: You thought you had escaped, erasing every trace of your past. But Jeon Wonwoo has always been patient. In the hushed sanctuary of an old Florentine library, he finds you— calm, composed, inevitable. There’s no chase, no struggle. Just the quiet certainty that no matter how far you run, he will always be there, waiting for you to return to him.

The old library in Florence smelled of aged paper and polished wood. It was one of the few places where you felt safe, where the silence wrapped around you like a shield.

You had been so careful.

No social media. No familiar locations. No contact with anyone from your past life.

Yet, as you reached for a book on the top shelf, a shadow loomed behind you.

“You always liked reading in quiet places.”

Your fingers froze just inches from the book’s spine.

That voice.

Deep. Calm.

Inevitable.

You turned slowly, heart hammering against your ribs.

Jeon Wonwoo stood there, dressed in a dark coat, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He looked so casual, so normal, as if this was just another accidental meeting.

But you knew better.

His eyes, sharp behind the lenses, were unreadable as they drank you in.

You swallowed hard, stepping back. “Wonwoo…”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re shaking.”

Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “How did you—?”

“You should know by now.” He took a step forward, voice soft but firm. “You can’t hide from me.”

Panic surged in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay still. To think.

Wonwoo was different from the others. He didn’t play games. He didn’t chase.

He waited.

Watched.

Until you were within reach.

“I don’t want to go back,” you said, forcing the words out.

Wonwoo exhaled softly, almost like a sigh. “You always say that.”

Your stomach twisted.

Because it was true.

You had run before. You had begged before.

And yet, here you were. Again.

Wonwoo reached up, gently adjusting his glasses. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

Your breath caught.

He wasn’t mocking you.

He was disappointed.

A chill crawled down your spine.

“I let you have your little escape,” he murmured. “Two months. That was generous, don’t you think?”

Your pulse pounded. “Wonwoo, please—”

He closed the distance before you could react, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

“You’re still so warm,” he mused. “Still mine.”

You jerked back, but he caught your hand— his grip gentle, but unyielding.

Wonwoo didn’t take.

He didn’t force.

He simply… made it impossible to say no.

You trembled as his fingers ghosted over your palm. “I don’t—”

“You don’t want this,” he finished quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “But you keep ending up in my arms.”

Tears burned at the edges of your vision.

Because no matter how much you fought it, no matter how much you denied it—

He was right.

Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll give you one last choice,” he murmured. “Come willingly.”

Your heart clenched.

“…And if I don’t?”

Wonwoo smiled.

Not cold. Not cruel.

Just… patient.

“You already tested my patience enough, darling. I won't be a kind man this time. I'll always find you and if you pissed me off enough, you wouldn't know what I'm capable of doing, love...”

His fingers traced slow, featherlight patterns on your skin.

“Y-you wouldn't hurt me.” you didn't know where your courage came from and you manage to say that.

It leaves him smirking and laughing in amusement because of that.

“Oh, I'm not, you know I can't hurt You, but I can hurt them.” he answered, amused.

Your breath hitch because of that answer. You know damn well what's he's talking about.

“Don't you dare touch my family, wonwoo! They have nothing to do with this.” you hissed that make him raised his brow and lower down his face so that he can look at you better.

“If you promise you won't runaway again, I'll promise I'll never hurt them for your sake. How's that, darling? You don't get something for free nowadays. Your choice.”

You gulp. Open your mouth to say something but no words came out of it as if you just swallow your own tounge.

He nods, before pulling away and standing straight.

“Well, by all means go ahead and run-away again. I'll just wait.” he dismissed, gently letting go of your wrist and selling back from you.

The way his talk figure look down on you makes you feel like he's doing this to play with his prey again.

“W-what are you saying? Y-you would let me go just like that?” you stutters, heart beating fast in hope.

The corner of his mouth twitches and he nod.

“Go ahead and try.” he challenge and just like that his expression become dead serious that makes you become paralyzed.

He loves toying with you.

“See? You couldn't, because in the end…” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear.

“…you know that you'll always come back to me, whether by choice or not...”

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦

pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 9.2k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔦

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 15𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔘𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s a brisk, nearly springtime, evening when Jisoo quickly races into your room, urgency in his voice, “Listen carefully. Jinsang has emerged out of hiding.”

Minhyun, trailing behind him, adds, “They are most likely heading to Fuyu.”

“Logic would dictate that…” Jisoo nods, “It is the only locale near Pyongyang with a dense enough population to feed his massive army before Silla pushes even more into their Kingdom. Their foolish plan to thrust Silla into chaos hadn’t panned out as expected, and it seems as if Minghao’s kept his word… Surely they are reaching the point of desperation.”

The Demon’s crimson stare flickers to you, “Since this directly concerns you as a Heo, do you intend on accompanying us?” His gaze looks impertinent, almost as if he’s testing you.

 Your mind is already set, “I’m going.”

 He squints at you in response, staring blankly at you for a brief moment before relenting, “Very well.” His curt response is all you need.

The last you and Jisoo spoke about matters concerning Jinsang, he’d been dead set on prohibiting you form getting involved, yet now, as Silla pushes further into Goguryeo territory, you aren’t as worried at the fear of all-out war breaking out. If Furies can no longer be used as leverage, then maybe Jinsang can see the error in his ways once he realizes how little Goguryeo values his experiments. You wrestle with these thoughts as Jisoo continues.

 “I assume he’s marching half of his Furies north as we speak,” He muses.

 “Minghao should already be there with a group of soldiers.” Minhyun says. 

“Then we will reconvene with him as soon as our business with Heo is concluded.” 

Ungjin is blessed with a quiet calm as its residents sleep peacefully in the dead of night. The three of you wind carefully through the city, making your way to the northern gate to head towards Hanseong. 

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 30𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔊𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Have they already left?” Jisoo’s question rings through the nighttime sky, “I don’t detect anyone nearby…”

During your travels north, Hanseong was readily captured by the Silla forces moving towards the capital of Goguryeo, allowing you easy access into the city. It had been difficult to track down the whereabouts of where Heo Jinsang had been holing up the Furies, but Minhyun had gotten a lead towards this one particular residence on the outskirts of the city. 

“Oh!” You say, your eye catching something moving atop the roof before hopping down to greet the three of you. 

“It’s been a while,” Hak Ahro smiles, “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, sister.” 

“Ahro—” you begin before he speaks over you. 

“I’ve already spoken with Jinsang. He informed me that he had generously offered you the chance to join us, but…” His gaze flickers to Jisoo, “He got in the way of that, or something. Don’t you think it rude to interrupt an emotional reunion between a father and daughter?” 

Jisoo says nothing, keeping his guard raised as he glares at Ahro without humoring his sarcasm. 

“So?” Ahro asks, “Why are all of you here? If you’ve brought these two as your bodyguards, it can’t mean anything good. 

You know that speaking with your father had proved futile, but with their hope dwindling, maybe, maybe, you can get through to them. 

“Jisoo,” you whisper to him, “please give me one more chance.” 

Without moving his head, he shifts his line of sight to stare at you begrudgingly, taking his time to decide, “As you wish…” 

You feel a huge pang of relief, and after thanking him, you turn to face Ahro, “I want you and father to hear me out before this goes any further.” 

Ahro gazes at you coldly, pursing his lips, “I see… I think I have an idea of what you’re going to say. Why don’t you all come inside? Jinsang’s been expecting you.” 

The three of you follow him inside cautiously to the main room where Heo Jinsang stands. You hadn't expected him to be here, but somewhere far north with his Furies.

“At last,” he smiles, “you’ve come.” 

Although you’ve made yourself aware of all the horrible things he’d done over the past few years, every time that Heo Jinsang greets you with his jovial smile, it shatters you into a thousand pieces, “… Father.” 

Even if you aren’t related by blood, he’d dedicated his life to raising you like a daughter. As the guilt trickles in, you have to snap yourself out of it, straightening your back as you speak to them. 

“I dreamt of something. It wasn’t much, but it was a memory from my childhood…” You begin slowly, recollecting the memory, “I witnessed a vision of our village burning, and I recalled how the humans destroyed our way of life. Both of you were there to rescue me, and together we escaped the fire by fleeing into the forest.” 

“I can only imagine,” your father winces, “how painful it must have been to remember such atrocities.” 

You shake your head at him, “It’s not about me. I know the two of you have been mulling this trauma over for far longer than I have. After all that’s happened, I can’t blame either of you for holding onto your grudge against humanity for as long as you have.” 

“Then…” Ahro’s voice perks up at his attempt to interject, you can swear you see his expression begin to soften. 

“Keeping all of this in mind, however, I implore the two of you not to unleash your Fury army.” As you mention the last part, both Ahro and Jinsang freeze in shock. “We were able to avoid the terrors of war in Ungjin… Why do either of you seek to inflict pain on others? Haven’t they suffered enough? I’m sure neither of you want to impose the same nightmarish fate that we’ve had to endure, do you?” 

A forlorn expression covers Jinsang’s face, Ahro, on the other hand, is less sympathetic to the point you’re trying to make. 

“Don’t break your foot getting off of that high horse.” He frowns, “Must be nice living a privileged life, isn’t it? Do you know what I had to struggle with after our village burned down? About how I was treated with the Hak clan? Because I cannot bear children, they treated me like I was less than the shit they scraped from their boots. I was lucky they kept me alive…” 

Bitterness erodes his voice, “They broke me again and again and again until I was nothing. At one point I…” He pauses, shaking his head, “Thanks to them, I realized humans and Demons are no different. Power corrupts all.” 

Listening to him makes your heart sink. All that time you lived peacefully in Toehwa-hyeon… Just what had Ahro been subjected to? A life with no love or compassion, it explains so much. 

“Then what is it that you want, Ahro?” You ask, “Do you want the Furies to rebuild the Heo clan? Is that what you really want?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He spits out, “It’s my duty… I cannot let our parents down by letting our name hang in disgrace! I refuse to let those imbeciles destroy our legacy without putting up a fight! The Hak clan abused me, and the Demons in the south and north turned a blind eye to our suffering, letting our people scatter with the wind. How do you expect me to forgive them for spitting on us when we begged for their help?! Doesn’t that insult what it means to be a Demon?” 

Each word he speaks breaks off another piece of your heart as his festering resentment comes to light. Maybe you had judged him incorrectly and the only thing that can soothe his soul is… if he exacted revenge on every person that had ever harmed or wronged him in the past. Perhaps, there is no other way… 

Jisoo steps in front of you all of a sudden, not even looking at you as he speaks, “Step back” 

“Jisoo…” Just as you had feared, their time of reckoning has come. “Jisoo I—” 

“I told you to step back,” he barks at you sternly, and you can’t help but move. His hand reaches for the hilt of his sword, drawing it in one swift motion. Jisoo holds it comfortably in his palm as if it’s an extension of his own arm, and like a phantom, it glows, illuminating the room. 

“Hwangun’s Demonslayer, hm?” Ahro muses as his eyes track the blade. “Since that weapon was forged to kill Demons, it must mean you’re really going for us, aren’t you?” 

“Of course.” Jisoo declares. 

“Then,” Ahro smirks, “I suppose I’ll have to return the favor.” His hand slips into his pocket, procuring a crystalline vial. 

“The dishonored bastard of a Demon clan has to forfeit his life in order to become a fake, is that it?” Jisoo’s eyes watch the red liquid swirl around the glass, “And here, I thought you could stoop no lower.”

“It appears we disagree on what constitutes honor,” Ahro’s fingers toy with the opening, “No matter what happens, I cannot allow you to kill me here!”

“Ahro, no!” Taking a split second to decide, you sprint towards him to snatch away the serum. 

As you near, he shouts out, “Don’t touch me!” And he shoves you and your attempt at saving him away, causing you to fall to the floor. 

You’re too late, as he’s uncapped the vial and placing it to his lips, he drinks the contents quickly. Ahro grips his chest, moaning in anguish. He lets the glass slip from his hand, it shatters on the floor as it lands. And then, just as Jinsang’s had done, his eyes begin to glow gold. His hair turns pale white and two horns emerge from his forehead. 

Your brother has become a Fury. 

“See?” He smirks, “Now it’s a fair fight, isn’t it, Hong Jisoo?” 

“You are lost, boy.” Jisoo murmurs coolly. All of a sudden, an aura emanates from him as his own body morphs, his hair turning white, his eyes gold and the horns emerging from his own head. Both of them radiate spheres of energy, glowing white hot as they charge one another. 

The thunderous clang of their blades echoes deafeningly around the room. Their agility is superhuman, making it difficult to track the paths of their swords as they rapidly trade a flurry of unrelenting attacks. 

“You’re not quick enough for me!” Ahro laughs maniacally, “At this rate I will crush you in minutes!” 

Sparks fly as their swords crack into one another, neither one willing to let up steam. 

“Jinsang,” Minhyun calls out, “You’re mine.” 

“There’s no need to rush things,” Jinsang leers, “In fact, since we’re all together, perhaps you would be better off warming up with my beloved children.” He places two fingers to his mouth and whistles. 

From behind you, you hear the ominous creak of doors opening. Within seconds, your worst fears are realized. You find yourself surrounded by a bevy of red eyes, Furies calling out for blood. 

Minhyun is the first to reach, unsheathing his sword, swinging fast slashes at the Furies funneling into the room. Yet… Not even Minhyun’s skill with a blade can subdue the incoming Furies, they close in without flinching. 

“Bastards!” Minhyun cries out, releasing another volley of strikes. He has the advantage of battle-worn experience and superior strength but these Furies are different. His attacks do little to stunt their fervor, and soon, dozens of Furies have you cornered. 

“Minhyun! Jisoo!” You cry out, reaching for the blade at your hip to join them in the fight. Suddenly, you’re grabbed from behind. 

“Let’s leave while we can,” Jinsang murmurs to you, “No matter what anyone else claims, you are a descendent of the Heo clan. Your parents would have wanted you to join us more than anything.” 

“No!” You struggle under his grip, “Let me go!” It’s impossible to slip from his grasp. 

“Demons from the west and Demons from the east… Two species that have never been acquainted will now come together as one,” he says, “It will create the strongest Demon ever to exist. This is your destiny.” 

His words paralyze you with fear, and at first nothing he says registers. Is this what he had planned for you all along? 

If all goes according to his plan, then the casualties wouldn’t be limited to the Kingdoms alone. This affliction can potentially spread around the world, devastating countless lives. You can’t bear to let your life amount to this, nor can you stand to let yourself be attached to such a crime against humanity… 

Your eyes flick down to your waist, and you struggle in your father’s arms to grab your blade. 

“What are you doing?!” Jinsang shouts, “Don’t do anything reckless!” He attempts to pry the blade from you, but finds it difficult as you jostle yourself in his arms. 

“Let her go, Jinsang,” Jisoo says as he saunters towards the two of you. 

“What?” Jinsang exclaims, “How are you here so soon…? Don’t tell me Ahro lost to the likes of you.”

 “Are you deaf, old man? I said, ‘Let her go’.”

Your father snickers, continuing to ignore the command. Jisoo shifts his eyes at you momentarily, looking at you intently as he motions with his lips. It’s almost as if he’s expressing his desire to kill your father, whether or not you approve. 

At this point, it seems inevitable. You had spilled your heart out, and still he refused to listen. At some point, you have to accept the truth. Your paths had diverged some time ago, and it’s unlikely that you would ever see eye to eye about the atrocities he threatens to commit. Unfortunately, it leaves you with no other choice. 

You look Jisoo in the eye and without another second to hesitate, nodding firmly. 

Judging by his wry smile, it seems as if Jisoo’s understood everything. 

“Death is a messy affair, and this is certainly no exception.” Jisoo raises his sword, “Shut your eyes.” 

You appreciate his sentiment, but shake your head, “I am a Demon of the Heo Family,” you say, “The least I can do is dignify him with the honor of watching his final moments.” 

“You’ve got a stronger heart than I thought. Don’t blame me if this haunts you forever,” His attention then turns to your father, “Okay, Jinsang. Have you made peace with yourself? Luckily for you, I am merciful. I promise this won’t hurt; well, not too much.” 

He raises his sword high above your father’s head, stopping within inches of his face. Panic suddenly set in for Jinsang, realizing there would be no escape from his execution until— His eyes begin to glow menacingly, focusing his Fury powers within himself, causing the ground underfoot to rumble. 

Jinsang breaks away from you to rush at Jisoo. But it’s no use. Their difference in power is palpable. Jisoo effortlessly swings his sword at the oncoming Jinsang, and in an instant, a deep, wide gash appears on your father’s sunken chest. 

A splash of crimson blood cascades in the air as your father cries out in agony. He falls, lifeless to the floor, limp and dead. Jisoo flicks his sword downward, sending an arc of blood droplets flying, before sheathing his blade as if to make a conclusive statement. 

You run to your father’s corpse when something peculiar occurs. After the color leaves his face, his flesh begins to smolder, similar to the burning logs of a fire, and slowly, he turns to ash before you. As he disintegrates, what remains of his body floats away with the breeze, leaving behind nothing in its wake. 

At long last, Heo Jinsang is dead. The man for whom you had spent years searching for had, once again, exited your life without a word. 

Although you had accepted the possibility of his death long ago, your body feels suddenly light, perhaps feeling his empty weight in your broken heart. You cannot understand how it has come to this. 

Reflecting on those circumstances sends you into a defeated slump, and without saying a word, Jisoo draws you into his embrace, your tears staining his robes.

“Jisoo,” you murmur, unable to look up at him. Whatever he has to say on the matter is an enigma to you, but for now you take solace in the comfort of his arms. You don’t think you can stand even if you want to.

 “What happened to Ahro? Did you…?” What do you want to say? ‘Kill him’? The words are unable to form. 

“I injured him, but he escaped.” Jisoo says quietly, “However since it was a wound inflicted by my blade, it will take some time to heal.” The tone of his voice gives you the impression that he’s trying to put you at ease, but you doubt Ahro would completely heal from an injury Jisoo would’ve given him. Yet the fact that he’s attempting to show you kindness makes all the difference in this moment. 

“Father was a wonderful man… He was…” Your heart feels so heavy that you barely notice the tears streaming from your eyes. “He cared so much for his patients I just—I don’t understand… I was proud to call him my father.” The bittersweet memory of your childhood comes flooding back to you, which seems to only exacerbate your tears. 

“I wonder what caused him to change so drastically?” 

“If your village hadn’t been burned to the ground, then perhaps there would have been some hope of saving the man he used to be,” Jisoo says slowly, “At the end of the day, humans are to blame.” 

There’s a resentful undertone lurking in his hushed voice. Jisoo is unashamedly proud to be a Demon. Eventually, this pride morphed into hatred, a potent discontent for everyone he considers beneath him. You can only imagine how difficult it must have been to murder one of his own kin. 

“I understand…” Although humans had been responsible for the death of your people, which led to them following this path of bitter revenge… Your family chose to let it consume them to the point of no return. However, it’s easier to conceptualize than it is to accept. 

“I’m just so heartbroken,” you sob so hard that your eyes begin to burn. Jisoo, sensing your pain, holds you just a bit tighter. “I know what you mean, though… Some humans are unmistakably evil, but others are okay…” Tears drip into your mouth as you speak, their saltiness stinging. “There are so many people who commit their lives to pursuits other than power.” 

In your experience, the Hwarang had been a prime example of this, you want nothing more than to learn of their fate. You need to find them, wherever they are. Now that you’ve lost your father, there aren’t many other convictions worth seeing to their end. 

After a few more moments, you pull away from Jisoo and he turns to Minhyun, “I believe the fighting will soon stop in Fuyu.” 

“Even though they’re fighting Furies, I doubt Minghao will have much trouble. Perhaps we should come to his aid,” Minhyun suggests. 

“Indeed,” Jisoo nods before turning to face you. “Return to the inn.” 

“What?” You shake your head, “I can’t just let you two handle this alone…” 

“Don’t flatter yourself. What good do you expect to do? You look dreadful,” he says, furrowing his brow. “Hurry up and return to the inn. Get some rest… Got it?” 

You’re concerned about the outcome of Fuyu, but you trust Jisoo to take care of things, and you’re comforted by the fact that he’s looking out for you. 

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 8𝔱𝔥, 666 – ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 After days of waiting, Jisoo finally returns, slinking into the inn with a reserved expression. 

“Minghao performed his duty and destroyed all of the Heo’s monsters,” Jisoo reports, “If you sincerely wish to reunite with the Hwarang, then prepare your things at once.” He speaks curtly, leaving you with that as he exits your room. 

You quickly rummage to gather your things, your thoughts lingering on your father as you find one of his old books tucked away in your bag. Although, your attention is turned to the door once again as Jisoo steps inside, sporting a whole new wardrobe. 

It takes you a moment to recognize him as he’s wearing Tang styled clothing. It clings to the dimensions of his body so nicely that you can’t help but feel your face warm at how… nice he looks. You look away to keep from staring at him. 

“What’s with your face?” He asks, “Do you want a uniform like this?” 

“O-oh, no, that’s not it.” You shake your head, shoving things into your bag. “They just look a little uncomfortable.” 

“Not at all,” he muses, flexing out his arms, “To tell you the truth, they’re a bit easier to maneuver in than my typical clothes. Perhaps I will have a set made for you one day, look forward to it.” 

“I couldn’t—” you say quickly. 

“I’m trying to show you kindness, it’s a gift.” He sighs out, “Quit wallowing in your self-pity for once. Now, there are people waiting for us. Let’s go.” 

“People…?” You ask, following him outside. “Oh, hello Minghao… Are you the person waiting for us?” 

Although you had clearly addressed him, he ignores you, making you think that you’re imagining his visage. After a moment, he stares at you intently. 

“Did something happen?” You ask with a tilt of your head. 

Yet again, he doesn’t respond, choosing instead to chew on his lips as he picks out his word carefully, “Do you remember the Hwarang captain Mingyu?” 

“Of course,” you nod, “He was one of the kindest people I met when I lived with the Hwarang.” Why is Minghao mentioning Mingyu now? As you consider the possibilities, it hits you. It feels as if one of Minghao’s arrows has hit your chest, and you’re finding it difficult to breathe. 

No… It can’t be. 

“Mingyu passed away. He lost his life battling the Furies in Fuyu…” 

“What?!” You cry out. Even though you had braced yourself for the possibility, nothing can soften the blow of the truth. “Wh- Why would he…?” 

Because Namekawa had mentioned something about how Mingyu wasn’t traveling with the Hwarang anymore, you had assumed he would’ve gone elsewhere other than the front lines. 

“While investigating the movement of Jinsang’s Furies, he and I crossed paths,” Minghao explains, “After briefing him of our situation, he and I struck up something of an alliance… All of a sudden, he began repeating how much he’d wanted to battle beside me. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just bad luck, since everyone I fight alongside ends up dead soon after.” 

Although you’re watching his lips move, your mind instinctively mutes everything else that falls from his mouth. You try your best to focus on your image of Mingyu. There’s nothing of worth you can contribute so you simply stand there, demoralized and numb. 

Mingyu… Although he seemed rough around the edges to others, you remember him more as a gentle, courageous soul. How could someone so beautiful die so young…? 

“No time for tears,” Jisoo says, “You still want to find them, don’t you?” 

You nod silently, hoping that Mingyu’s death is the epilogue to your harrowing journey… Although you’re unsure if that’s the case now. 

𝔐𝔞𝔶 19𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔉𝔲𝔶𝔲, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔊𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔬 By the time you reach Fuyu, spring is in full bloom. You find the town has already succumbed to Silla as their forces begin to encircle Pyongyang. The town itself is still in disarray from the battle, its ravaged exterior telling you everything you need to know. 

“I have bad news,” Jisoo murmurs to you as you walk along the streets of the town, not noticing that he had joined you some time along your stroll. 

“Jisoo…” Your heart still reeling from Minghao’s revelation of Mingyu, you’re unsure of how much more you can take. “Please, go on.” 

As soon as you answer, he tilts his head down and speaks quietly, “In retaliation for their capture of Fuyu, Youngmin was tried and beheaded by the Goguryeo forces.”

A paragon of benevolence and leadership… Youngmin had been denied an honorable death and it breaks your heart to hear that he’d been decapitated like some criminal. For a moment you remain silent, softly turning your thoughts over in your head as Jisoo looks away. 

“You can decide whether or not you believe it.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I believe you.” 

When Namekawa had notified you of Youngmin’s surrender, you considered this to be the worst-case scenario. You buried the thought somewhere, clinging to the hope that he could be rescued, or maybe they would show him mercy for his character. But hearing Jisoo say it, having it become real through his curt, impersonal words, is a devastating blow at a time when you’re reaching your limit.

“What does that mean for the Hwarang now?” You question. 

Youngmin had proudly served as the Hwarang’s Chief, and without him, you wonder how they would adapt to his absence. 

“I hear they’ve begun to march onto Geumji to continue fighting in their late Chief’s honor.” He says simply, “Where does that leave you?” His question seems less interrogative and more interested in your feelings, which you appreciate. 

However, you figure he’s intuitive enough to know that your opinion on the matter is unchanged, and you answer him resolutely, “I’m going to Geumji too. I’m going to wherever the Hwarang men are.” 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 5𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔊𝔢𝔲𝔪𝔧𝔦, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔊𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔬 After a long and encompassing journey, Jisoo and you set foot in a small town some days away from Pyongyang, gazing at the peripheral view of its vast landscape. Tension boils in the air around the upcoming battles, particularly in the small villages in the area, just like the one you’re in now. 

It’s here that Hwan Minhyun meets you, giving you valuable information. 

“The Hwarang were fighting in Naemihol until mid-June,” He relays, “They held the area until Silla forces could successfully take over entire control… But they lost many men in the conflict.” 

“Just as I thought…” Jisoo murmurs, “Cannon fodder.” 

After being dealt another crushing wave of casualties, Minhyun mentions something that piques your interest. “They’re heading to Namhansanseong. To my knowledge, their plan is to fortify the fortress and hold it for as long as they can until Silla once again comes to their aid.” 

“Namhansanseong… Then that’s where we need to go, isn’t it?” You say quickly. 

“One would assume…” Jisoo nods, “Is that what you want?” 

Chasing the Hwarang is trying to catch smoke with your hands, they’re just out of reach every time. Would your reunion ever happen? Or would each of them succumb to a fate similar to Youngmin’s or Mingyu’s before this war ever ends? 

Fear and anxiety prompts you to speak, “I want to go.” 

“I’m unamused by your poor attempt at humor,” Jisoo frowns, “If you’re being serious, then I’m even less amused.” Sensing your resolve, he speaks bitterly, “Are you stupid or have you been living under a rock while they run themselves into the ground? Namhansanseong will be attacked relentlessly before Silla even sets foot into the area, are you sure that your Hwarang will be there when we arrive?” 

“I understand,” you mirror his frown, “but that’s the only lead we have about their whereabouts. I’ve missed them a handful of times now and I don’t know if I could stomach never seeing them again.” You stop yourself, biting your tongue from contemplating the worst. 

Jisoo’s expression, however, is as aloof as it’s always been, “Let’s suppose they are, in fact, at Namhansanseong. What the hell do you expect you’re going to do if you make it there? Waltz on in?” 

“Well—” You start before Jisoo stops you. 

“You would be killed. You’re an idiot if you think otherwise.” 

“I am not going to do anything once I get there!” You don’t need his sharp criticism; not do you expect to come and rescue the Hwarang. You just need him to understand how you feel. “I just… I want to see everyone while I still can.” trying to steady your breath, you continue, “I don’t know if I could bear the thought of never seeing them again before something happens to them like Youngmin or Mingyu…” 

“What?” He says bluntly, “You’re willing to get yourself killed for the mere possibility of seeing them?” 

“I’m not going to let them kill me…” 

“Mind telling me what you know that I don’t?” Voice piquing, “In case you were unaware, Kwak Youngmin has been executed, and his head is currently on display at Dosal Castle. Then there’s Kim Mingyu, who was ripped to shreds in Fuyu. No one’s patting him on the back for dying like a wounded animal. I’ve told you all this before—they will be a footnote in history.” 

He makes sense, if the fortress is going to come under siege it would be foolish for you to go. The Hwarang would die and be written off as some common foot soldiers, warping the truth and their meaning for a while… 

“I’ll remember them,” you state, “It doesn’t matter if people mischaracterize the Hwarang from who they really were…. I will honor their memory, and you can make damn sure that I’ll never forget it.” 

You can almost hear Jisoo gnashing his teeth as he glares at you, “I knew women were whimsied by delusion, but you are sitting at the top of the pile. Very well. Do what makes you happy.” 

An awkward tension lingers in the space of your conversation, making you unsure if Jisoo’s upset or just frustrated at your unwillingness to cooperate. His eyes are like daggers, sinking into you. 

“Let’s simmer down, you two,” Minhyun steps in, looking at the other man, “What’s the point in arguing? And you, Jisoo, you normally keep your cool around women.” 

He scoffs, “Maybe I’d keep my ‘cool’ if she wasn’t being such an idiot. This discussion is pointless. I have other things that require my attention, so I'm taking my leave.” Jisoo’s biting tone leaves you feeling uncomfortable as he spins on his heels and walks away. 

You contemplate calling his name to clear the air but Minhyun stops you. 

“You should go after him.” Noting your confused expression, he continues, “Jisoo is a real grouch, but he’s not the type of man that would let something frustrate him enough to walk off like that… I understand that you’re racing against the clock to see your friends right now, but it’s not like you’re in any position to get to Namhansanseong by yourself. You know that, right?” 

“Yes…” 

“Besides, it’s like you said. We have no idea or guarantee that the Hwarang will be there. I’ll do what I can to investigate their whereabouts for the time being… For now, why don’t you speak to Jisoo?” 

“Thank you, Minhyun,” you say quickly, beginning to walk after Jisoo. 

“No need,” he shakes his head with a small smile, “I’m simply doing my duty.”

 By the time you find Jisoo, the sun is beginning to set into a warm pool on the horizon.

 “Jisoo…” You timidly call out to him. 

He turns his head to gaze at you, but pays you no mind after and continues to walk at the same pace.

 “Where… Where are you going?” 

“If you insist on joining me, then shut your mouth and keep up. You’ll understand when we arrive.”

 You sprint up to try and further the conversation, but he seems unwilling to entertain such things. You peek at him confusedly, and you’re struck with the most peculiar feeling of déjà vu.

 “Huh?” Time seems to shift for a moment, things moving slowly as you look to a row of trees looming over the forested path. Its neat arrangement reminds you of a welcoming ceremony. Nose tingling with the most familiar scents; a fragrant patch of flowers dotting a lush meadow, dew clinging onto their petals…

 Your body is trying to tell you something, consuming you with a vague sense of yearning. It all feels so surreal, and you can’t place your finger on it. An ambient energy imbues you, a serene grace that puts your tired heart at ease.

 “Here we are…” Before you have an opportunity to voice how strange you feel, Jisoo stops walking.

“This place…” you can hardly form the words as you realize. Your eyes scanning the environment, hitting you with a blast of nostalgia that nearly topples you. Beside you lay a charred hut with fallen supports, your mind immediately pictures what it once had been. This had been a village, and in the middle of it lays a decayed well, encircled by overgrown weeds.

 Remnants of old life remain scattered here, an old bucket lay broken, an old doll lay weathered in the grass near your feet. There’s no mistaking where you are.

 “Is this the village where I was born?” You look to Jisoo, who neglects to answer you and shuts his eyes softly.

 “Hm…” Something catches his attention, his eyes shooting open and he darts up a small hill to see what it is. To your surprise, you see Hak Ahro.

 He’s collapsed in a bed of flowers, your heart dropping as you near. On the side of his ribcage is gauze that had been completely soaked in blood. You’re under the impression that he’d attempted to treat his injury inflicted by Jisoo yet… It doesn’t surprise you that he would flee here in anticipation of death’s embrace, left to suffer his last, bitter moments alone.

 “He’s been long dead…” Jisoo ascertains by the stiffness of the body.

 You take comfort in that, in the fact that his expression seems rather peaceful. Part of you believes that, after the evening passes, he’ll wake up to greet the morning and you could talk about everything that happened.

 A new memory begins to uncloud itself as you look on to your deceased brother’s body… It had been years ago, back when this village was populated and full of life. You’d asked Ahro to take you to see flowers… To see these flowers, even though your parents hadn’t allowed it. He’d offered to take you in secret, claiming that he’d protect you from anything outside.

 “I just remembered something important,” you say, feeling a hot, sticky tear begin to roll down your cheek.

 “Important?” Jisoo questions.

 You nod softly, “I was… loved. There were many people who protected and cared for me; most of all, it was Jinsang and Ahro...”

 “I see…” Jisoo doesn’t press the matter further. The two of you listen to the gentle hum of the wind passing through the bones of the village, grazing against the burned wood and worn stone. “Your brother deserves to be buried, a grave befitting the head of the Heo Family.”

Together, you hike to the peak of the hill that overlooks the village, and it is there that you bury Ahro’s remains. Jisoo keeps his eyes fixated on the grave for a few minutes after you have finished patting the dirt down. He sighs and reaches for the canteen on the side of his belt, pouring the contents gently atop the grave.

The gokaju reflects in the moonlight as it falls from the bottle, seeping deep into the soil. Jisoo is expressionless, watching the alcohol drip out as the container empties. His eyes glow with melancholy, and you wonder if he’s regretful about how things had transpired between the two of them.

“If it weren’t for the humans, then I am certain that your brother would have made a fine leader.” His sentiment is heavy, seeming as if the two of you are learning to navigate the nuances of your grief together.

‘If it weren’t for the humans…’ It’s a lofty idea, one that you will likely ponder for the remainder of your life. Things could have manifested so differently for Ahro and your father… At the very least, they could have made an impact on their people, unburdened by the curse of vengeance that unfairly plagued the rest of their short lives.

Ahro originally mentioned something about wanting to use the Furies to build back the Heo Clan, but in the end, you believe it all to have been a mask to hide the trauma inflicted by the wicked humans. In essence, he had wanted to preserve the picture of this village and everything it stood for.

Maybe—just maybe—he’d wanted to reclaim some of those memories that were viciously stripped from him. He was a boy whose every step was met with misfortune, tragically so. He died as he lived—alone. It’s the only way you’re able to think of him without slumping into a dark depression.

You wish and hope that his last moments were painless, that he’d been able to reconcile his hatred as he laid in the meadow of the one place he cared for. 

“Jisoo…” you call out his name once more as you leave the hill slowly.

“What?”

“I know that my father and Ahro committed unforgivable crimes against humanity and our people… Do you think it would be okay for me to remember them as gentle, kind people…?” Jinsang’s serum had been catastrophic, responsible for countless deaths. For them to violate the natural order of Demonhood, and all that encompasses your sacred existence, is a mark of condemnation to Jisoo and his kin.

“You are free to do as you please,” he says quietly. “The Demon’s Code has no bearing on matters of the heart. Regardless of the sins they have committed, they are still your family.”

His words bring a weight from your shoulders, “Can I ask you one more question? Demons far surpass humans in strength and ability, right? How can you explain what happened to my people? How were humans able to do,” you look to the barren village, “this?”

Jisoo tilts his head, staring into your eyes inquisitively. Perhaps he’s testing you to see if you can handle the truth; to be honest, you’re unsure if you are, but the question needs an answer.

“Goguryeo asked for aid in stopping the preliminary attacks on Baekje over twenty years ago, they needed more help than my or Minhyun’s families could afford to give them, so they went east… It was then they asked the Heo clan.” Jisoo pauses for a moment, “Your people, however, were unenthused about the idea of participating in human affairs, particularly in regards to warfare, and supposedly declined to help…”

Because they expressed no interest, you’re sure that the King of Goguryeo saw that as an affront to his authority…

“That’s why my people were killed? That was their justification?” You cry out in defeat and Jisoo turns to look at the remnants of the village. It’s futile. The past cannot be changed.

“Do you now feel their hatred?” He asks simply before uttering his words of advice, “Remain in the shadows, out of their affairs. This is where Demons belong. Of all the clans, yours is the one who put the dignity of its people first by refusing. The humans had no right to attack your people and were blinded by their lust for power and control.”

You direct your gaze to the forest floor as he speaks once more, his voice barely above a whisper, “It was never my intention to reveal the history of the Heo Clan to you, but… I suppose, because we are here, it is unavoidable.”

As you look at him, he asks, “Do you not resent the humans for what they’ve done?”

You mull for a moment, “There’s a part of me that thinks about how I should hate them… But there’s something overriding that angry voice and instead I just feel… heartbroken. I’m just filled with sorrow for what could have been.”

“Sorrow?” He asks and you nod.

When you first learned of what compelled your father and Ahro to embark on this path of revenge, all you felt was sorrow. Grief has taken you entirely now. You’d been reminded of the family you used to know as well as the parents you will never know.

“My real father and mother… And everyone else… Do you know how they died?”

Jisoo shakes his head, “I haven’t the faintest idea. My only knowledge is that none of them put up a fight, and were complicit in the humans’ rampage. It was an admirable effort, holding onto their convictions as Demons by refusing to fight the humans, even at the cost of their own lives.”

As you and Jisoo walk through the village, you kneel down to rest your hand to lay upon one of the fallen pillars that had greeted you upon your arrival. Had you touched this pillar as a child? Now it lies as a lifeless and forgotten artifact.

“Is there no way for us to live in a world where everyone can coexist peacefully?”

Why is the pursuit of peace so entrenched in the deaths of innocent lives?

“The Hwarang exposed me to so many different walks of life… A range of motivations, ideologies and ambitions.” When two opposing parties are unwilling to compromise, then it usually leads to war, yet… “All anyone should be concerned about is helping out their fellow man. It just breaks my heart to see that people are so willing to inflict pain on others.”

“I can see how hurt you are…” Jisoo takes this moment to console you, not refute, and nods quietly. There’s a kind twinkle in his eyes, which you notice to be uncharacteristically placid as you look at him. “Perhaps there will be a day when we will no longer need our swords to speak for us.” 

Eventually, you fall quiet, naturally running out of things to say. After a moment, he mutters to himself, “Humans are hopeless. They are, without exception, drawn to conflict like a moth to a lantern. This is why Demons have forsaken them, my desire to aid in their war wanes with each day. And of course, so should yours.”

“Jisoo…” You had no intention of being near this war, but there’s so much you need to do; namely, learn the fate of the Hwarang. Understandably, they are still deeply entrenched in the war and whatever outcome that awaits them. 

“Don’t think that I’m unaware of your concern for the Hwarang men’s safety,” he says abruptly. “If you want to see them so badly, then it is pertinent for you to exercise patience. If you become restless and enter conflict too hastily, then you’ll die before you get a chance to reunite with them. Impatience is unbecoming and I believe your ancestors wouldn’t wish that upon you.” 

“You’re right…” You murmur, coming to realize what he’s been saying. Jisoo is often blunt, if not outright rude. But he’s speaking honestly, and you can tell he’s genuinely worried for your well-being. That, you know for sure. “Thank you for looking out for me.” 

“Well, with your penchant for recklessness, it is a necessity.” He hums. 

“Recklessness?!” 

“How else could I describe it?” A grin grows on his lips. “You have no means of reaching Namhansanseong by yourself.” Although he’s chiding you once again, you find his delivery endearing, his words snaking their way into your heart. 

“Minhyun said the same thing that you did, Jisoo.” You say slowly, “he said that we have no way of knowing whether or not the Hwarang men will still be there by the time we arrive, so I should wait. I suppose we will have to until we know for sure…” 

His eyes scan you, thinning with satisfaction, “Glad to see you’ve wisened up by taking my advice to heart. Obedience is a good look on you, you’re well on your way to becoming a good wife.” 

“Way to miss the point!” You huff, cheeks warming as you speak again, “Besides, I’m not your wife.” 

After scoffing at his suggestion, you tun to get one last glimpse of the scenery around you. All you want is to reunite with the Hwarang, but now you can’t bear the thought of letting the deaths of your paternal parents, Jinsang, and Ahro be in vain by wasting your life so wantonly. You have to make absolutely sure to pick and choose your battles. 

As you leave the village, you put the image of the charred ruins behind you, instead carrying the resolve to honor your people and their sacrifice.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 15𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔊𝔢𝔲𝔪𝔧𝔦, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔊𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔬 After staying in the village on the route to Namhansanseong for a while, it’s found out that the Hwarang have made it to their destination in record time. Yet, the battle had been short lived, Goguryeo surrendered swiftly, wanting to save their men for the final affront from Silla on their own doorstep. You’re now unsure of the Hwarang’s whereabouts, only waiting anxiously as you and Jisoo spot Minhyun walking down the well-worn path towards you. 

“I have discovered their location,” he says quietly. He takes a deep breath and speaks somberly, “Allegedly, Boo Seungkwan, has passed away from illness in Sabi. As for Choi Hansol, he was last seen leading a battalion of men at Wangnam Pass, and has been missing in action. We can only assume the worst…” 

Your stomach sinks like a stone into the ocean. Suddenly, your breaths are shallow and staggered, they are… gone. Two of the most talented warriors in the Hwarang are now nothing more than just a faint memory, fading against the tide of time. 

“Wen Junhui, who had been reported to have left the Hwarang, is also missing in action.” You bite your lip. Is he safe? Are any of them safe? “Choi Seungcheol and Kwon Soonyoung, both of whom led the Fury Corps under the Hwarang, were killed in combat in Cholsan fighting Goguryeo soldiers.” 

“Seungcheol and Soonyoung too?!” You cry out. 

“The Goguryeo army was likely briefed of their use of the Furies and their weaknesses by Jinsang…” Jisoo sighs. 

Their deaths are difficult to take in as you swirl already in a pit of despair. They’d willingly gave up their humanity to become Furies, and not even that could save them. 

“What about the others?” You ask, looking at Minhyun. 

“Thankfully for you, Lee Jihoon lives and is en route to Pyongyang with his remaining men. They’re actually leaving from the port here later today…” 

“Today?!” Your eyes shoot open, looking towards the hill that leads down to the docks brimming along the town’s waterfront. 

“Did I hear correctly?” Jisoo questions, “Even with his men gone? That little dog still has some bite, huh?” He’d always been first in line to scorn the Hwarang’s actions, but this is different. His tone leads you to believe the he’s impressed by Jihoon, which is a little strange. 

“So, everyone’s still putting up a fight?” Life for the Hwarang following the Battle of Seorabeol is nothing but one continuous adjustment to loss and victory. Yet, they continue to push forward with their heads high. 

“What reasons have they scraped together to justify continuing on?” Jisoo murmurs, “As I recall, the Crown has never taken favorably to them. I cannot fathom any reason to risk their lives so needlessly. Yet, here they are…” 

“I’m unsure too,” you nod. Yet, you do know one thing. You celebrate internally, knowing their spirits are unbroken in the light of loss. 

“Speaking as an outsider,” Jisoo adds, “All they’re doing is hopping from one burial ground to the next. Can you honestly tell me that this is the future they envisioned for themselves?” 

“Yes…” Their steadfast dedication on the battlefield is a monument to the courage and principles of their fallen comrades. 

“Do you plan on following them to Pyongyang as well?” Minhyun questions. 

“Yes,” you nod, “The Commander may be unaware of the news that some of the captains have passed away…” 

With Seungkwan having died in Sabi and Mingyu in Fuyu, it’s unclear to you if word of their passing has reached him. It’s your duty to honor their memory by telling Jihoon yourself. 

Your eyes shift to Jisoo, “I want to travel to Pyongyang and meet up with whoever’s left.” Before you continue, you take a moment to calculate what you wish to say, “Would it be too much to ask if you’d join me?” 

“Me?” His eyes widen in surprise, “Go along with you?” 

“Yes,” you nod somberly, “Even if it will be a victory for Silla, I have a gut feeling that this is the end for the Hwarang.” No battlefields had been left untouched by the vicious torrents of the war, and Pyongyang stands as the decisive scene in your Kingdom’s most tumultuous chapter. “I, um, I guess that’s even more of a reason why I… I want to travel together, Jisoo. I want you with me when I witness the end of the Hwarang.” 

It’s surreal, if not strangely appropriate, of you to ask such a thing of him. Yet, because Jisoo’s been involved in so many duels with them over the years, you want him to bear witness to what could possibly be the Hwarang’s final, intimate moments. 

He listens intently, and when you finish speaking, his lips curl into a smug grin, “The ‘end’ for them, you say…? What an enticing offer.” 

“Thank you,” you’re flushed with relief at his acceptance. It’s felt like ages since anyone has been able to coax a sincere smile from you. 

“I suppose that means we’ll be off…” Jisoo says, waving a short goodbye to Minhyun. “It will be faster to sail there than to walk…” 

“Thank you, Minhyun, I hope to see you again soon,” you say, beginning to turn around before he stops you. 

“Hold on, there’s someone here who wants to speak with you.” 

Turning back around, you’re met with both the visages of Hwan Minhyun and Xu Minghao. 

“It looks like you’ve made it in one piece,” Minghao notes with a smile. 

“Minghao!” You call out, “What are you doing here?”

 “I just came to bring you something,” he says, reaching for a sword on his waist. You have trouble looking at it properly until he holds the sheathed metal out to you, and you can finally read the inscription on the sheath. 

“Is that… Mingyu’s?” You ask, reaching out for the leather holster.

 “It is,” he nods slowly, “I was unable to reach the Hwarang in time. If he had lived, I believe he’d still be here fighting by everyone’s side. He was tenacious.” 

Grabbing hold of the memento, you securely strap the sheathe onto you, letting it rest next to your own blade. The added weight feels as if you’re carrying along his legacy with you. 

“You’re an ally of Goguryeo, are you not?” Jisoo asks Minghao. 

“Like hell I am,” he scoffs, “I only answer to Baekje. Human history is only written by the victors, and everyone else is cast into the dirt. So, far be it from me to let their history speak for me.” 

“Smells like bullshit to me,” Jisoo hums. 

Minghao grimaces playfully at the other, then turns to face you, “You still plan on following after those Hwarang of yours, right?” 

“I hope to,” you nod. 

“Tell them that Kim was one of the bravest, most ferocious warriors I’ve ever met,” Minghao says with a smile. 

“Minghao…” Praising humans isn’t exactly one of his habits, especially to the degree he’s described Mingyu. Imagining what he must have witnessed with Mingyu moves you almost as much as it must have moved him, a bittersweet warmth swells in your chest. 

“Understood, I’ll pass on the word.”

Jisoo sighs, “Don’t bother. Isn’t this just another worm you’ve let crawl into your insipid heart?”

 “Well, look who’s talking. Who was it exactly that you came all the way here for?” Minghao pokes, “I bet you’re just as curious in seeing what’s going to happen to the Hwarang.” 

“Hardly. I am but a passenger of circumstance, which has taken me on the same path as them.” He shakes his head, “Enough wasting time, we have a ship to catch.” 

“Okay,” you nod and turn to the other Demons. “Minghao, Minhyun, please take care of yourselves.”

 As you bid the two of them farewell, Jisoo and you see yourselves out to port. Once arriving, you find the harbor to be eerily quiet.

 “Have they already left?” You wonder aloud, not seeing many people bustling around.

 “It appears as though the boat has already left the harbor…” Jisoo looks to the western ocean, “I believe we just missed them. They couldn’t have gotten far, so we may be able to see their boat. Do you want to try?”

 “Of course. Let’s go.”

 Jisoo and you ascend a nearby beach bluff where you hope to get a clearer view. A cascade of maroon ripples across the vast sea in a reflection of the wide sunset, and in the distance, you watch the shadow of a boat on the horizon.

 “Do you think that’s them?” You ask Jisoo as you squint from the light on the water.

 “I believe so.”

 You had traveled two Kingdoms searching for them. Now, once again, you have just barely missed them, left in the dust. A sharp pang shoots up through your nose and suddenly you find yourself fighting back a wave of tears. Your teeth dig into your lower lip, hoping to not let this deluge of self-pity come to the surface.

 “If you want to cry so badly, why don’t you?” Jisoo asks.

 “No…” You shake your head, the tears still welling up in your eyes. “Only because I can imagine how much pain they’re in right now… I have no right to shed tears when it’s not me who’s fighting out there.”

 Jisoo sighs out of frustration and closes his eyes, pausing as he shifts back and forth, “You know, just because you’re not good with a sword doesn’t mean you’re not fighting. Although your methods are quite different from the Hwarang’s, you’ve had your own demons to fight. Even I’ve noticed it.”

 It feels warm to hear his gentle words acknowledging how much you’ve been through.

 After seeing your father’s death, your lukewarm reunion with Ahro and visiting the village of your birth. Then your revelation of what had occurred to your friends. A tempest of grief gathered its winds in your heart, continuing to swirl with fervor as you try now not to collapse. 

You can’t cry… If you do, then you’ll blur your sight of the ship that houses the remainder of your friends in the Hwarang. 

“I’ll turn around if you’d like. Cry as much as you wish.”  Jisoo points his nose towards the ocean, which glows with hues of orange and gold under the glimmer of the late afternoon. 

In this moment, the levee holding back your tears bursts. Your forehead presses against Jisoo’s back, hands grabbing hold as well. Wailing as quietly as you can, you lament them once again slipping through your fingers. The ship begins to vanish beyond the horizon, sailing into the ocean’s furthest tendrils. Soon, it disappears from sight. You listen to the roar of the ocean for a moment before Jisoo speaks, 

“I promise you… I will take you to them.” His voice low, yet urging, “Just be patient… okay?” 

Jisoo, who previously seemed hell bent on abducting you at any cost from the Hwarang��. Now the shoe is on the other foot, and he’s promised to keep you safe on this last journey. Although, you’re unsure of when it’ll actually happen.

[uhdrienne]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

to be published: (estimated) february 2024!

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼 pairing: wonwoo x reader (smau, written)

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

🌼 a/n: there are many other villagers in the area! not all of them are named here, but they may make small appearances throughout the series. the ones named below are the villagers that appear the most!

🌼character intros under the cut!

wonwoo: a witty villager in his late twenties, and the most skilled man around. also the go-to person in the village for any and every problem. fixing your pipes? call wonwoo. helping the fishermen by the dock? wonwoo is your man! he's so kim seon-ho coded to me, i can't explain it. incredibly popular among the villagepeople. has a past of his own that no one knows of, but it doesn't hinder his kind and helpful nature.

yn: a pediatrician in the city. (physical appearance is up to you!). ambitious, hardworking and determined to come on top, your emotions have taken a backseat for much of your life, which is why you can be cold and calculating at times. your parents no longer around because of a freak accident, you can be emotionally sensitive, with a sharp tongue on the topic of family. deep down, you're kind and affectionate, you just show it a little differently.

chanyeol: yn’s close friend and old crush from university. now a famous tv producer and presenter, this gentle giant is constantly in search of a muse to kickstart his next project. stumbles into the idyllic town to film a program after going in the wrong direction, and fits in just perfectly before long. also ends up becoming wonwoo’s friendly rival (🥲)

delia: yn's best friend forever!! a pediatric nurse by profession, she's one of the only people who can tame yn down when she's being haughty/angry. moves to the town to work with yn, and sometimes acts as the neutral party between yn and the villagers. gets along very well with other people, she's a complete E. she's a little ditzy, but a lovely person.

miss kim: yn’s landlord. divorced with a child, she runs a small bookshop in the village. as the unspoken village head, she handles the village’s admin matters. her ex-husband, mr woo, lives in the village too and works in the village bank. she shares her son's custody with him.

grandma lee: affectionately called ‘grandma’ by everyone, she’s seen wonwoo through most of his life, his ups, downs, and everything in between, except for the three years when he left town. a clever, patient, and kindhearted woman, she often knows what everyone needs before they do.

miss hwang: the neighbourhood gossip. a loudmouthed person, she runs a small cafe near the coast, selling coffee and cake (which yn really doesn't enjoy), and once she knows something, the whole village will. she can jump to conclusions too quickly sometimes, but she’s a nice lady, honest!

seungkwan and joshua: wonwoo’s best friends in the village, who grew up with him. they are similar to him, in the sense that they help everyone out in the form of part-time jobs, but their expertise isn’t as wide as wonwoo’s. however, if you need someone to fix your chair or install a bulb, they’re pretty solid options. didn't stay in contact with wonwoo during the years he was away, but the trio became close again after he returned. they have a hunch that he had a hard time, so they've never brought it up with him.

[kwaniebooo]

Welco me!!!

Welcome it's my first post and I hope you enjoy it

!pairing : svt!member × f.reader

genre :- lover,commited couple,soon-to-couple

Choi Seungcheol :- sound_of_coups

Public Private

"Baby"

"Hmm"

"Can we have some ice-cream 🥺"

"Anything from you love"

Yoon jeonghan :- jeonghaniyoo_n

Public Private

" Hannie" *whines*

"What happened"

"How much do we have to walk" *pout*

"Just a bit more angel"

Hong Joshua - joshu_acoustic

Public Private

"JOSH OH MY GOD" *squeals*

"Calm down darling"

*kisses his face*

" I wanted to come here for so long"

*chuckles*

Moon junhui :- junhui_moon

Public Private

"Moon junhui"

"What ! What ? What did a do"

"Nothing just pose my camera"

"Oh I thought...nevermind" *poses*

Kwon Soonyoung ; ho5hi_kwon

Public                                       Private

sigh*

"What happened baby are you tired of clicking photos"

"No I am I dilemma kwon"

"What? Why?" *concerned*

"What should look at the Eiffel or you cuz both are stunning but you more obviously"

*blushes slightly*

" Let's go we have eat something too"

"KWON ARE YOU BLUSHING?!?!!?"

*runs behind him*

Jeon Wonwoo : everyone_woo

Public Private

*creeps behind him*

"BOO!?!"

*scared as hell* "Eunha Wtf?!?!?"

"you were so absorbed in the camera you forgot me"

"I could never let's go cmon lets go"

Lee Jihoon : woozi_universefactory

Public                                       Private

*camera click* oooooh

*camera click* oof babe stay like that

*shutter noise* so hot damnnn

can i look up my neck is hurting

*realizes* ooh sorry sorry yeah , jihoon take a look at the photos

*looks* how do you manage to take such good photos

*grins* its not hard when my muse is so beautiful

*chuckles* you cheeky girl.

*whispers* just for you