In a way, you knew it was never going to work out.
Maybe you were simply naive. Optimistic, if you want to look at your current situation through a lighter lense. You could also say you were simply in love. Whatever hypothesis you tried to create, the outcome would always be the same: it didn't work out.
Mingi and you, that is. And idol and a normal person, as normal as it can get. Two people with a sea in between, different timezones and completely opposite lives. The only thing you had in common was how fast your heart beat whenever you managed to call each other. Besides the dearing affection and lovesick smile, nothing else connected the both of you.
You swear you tried to make that count. He did too, and you know it very well. Maybe love could overcome everything in the end.
Maybe it really can.
It just won't, not in your lives.
The love never faltered but the routine did. The phone stopped ringing and missing each other became a continuous truth rather than motivation. The gap became so big that no bridge was able to connect the both of you anymore.
You were still proud of him whenever you saw an ad with his face, it's just that you couldn't share his victories with him anymore. He still thought of you whenever he saw your favourite things, it's just that it wasn't possible for him to hear you talk about it for endless hours anymore.
It wasn't about will. It wasn't about love. It's just that, sometimes, you have to face things how they are instead of how you wished they were. Sometimes, you just lose.
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sypnosis: Mingi had lots of talents, one of those being a good hugger. No matter where or when, he always had a type of hug stored for you.
word count: 0.4 k
author's note: This is just a cute headcanon about the types of hugs he would give. You can't tell me that our big boy wouldn't give the best hugs (˶>⩊<˶) I literally get cuteness-aggression whenever I see him — where is his bicep for me to bite?? Lol, anyway, I hope you guys enjoyyy!
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Soft!Mingi whose hands shook in nervousness the first time you hugged when you got together, holding tightly onto your shirt to assure himself that you were really his.
Soft!Mingi who had to hug something to sleep (aka you)— and when you tried to escape his grip in the morning he would just pull you back, cuddling you a tad bit tighter as he threw a leg over yours.
— "Mhhh....sweetheart....five more minutes, yeah?"
Soft!Mingi who made it a habit to hug you from behind when you cooked breakfast— his chin resting on top of your head as the grogginess still tugged at him, not being able to let you out of his arms quite yet.
Soft!Mingi who always put one arm over your shoulders when you were out with friends, a silent reassurance that he was there and yours.
Soft!Mingi who clung onto your arm with his head hiding in your hair as you ran through a "haunted house" in an amusement park, screeching every time one of the zombie actors came too close— completely scared out of his mind, but still needing to make sure you were by his side.
Soft!Mingi who loved to pick you up while you two hugged, carrying you to the couch where he could feel the comforting weight of you on his lap.
Soft!Mingi who couldn't bear to let go while hugging you goodbye when he had to leave for a tour, squeezing you tighter for a split second before finally releasing you.
Soft!Mingi who loved to lay on you while you watched tv, your chest acting as a soft pillow as he wrapped his arms around your torso.
— "Babyyyy....can you stroke my hair? pretty please?"
Soft!Mingi who let all of the stress go after a busy day in the studio, his shoulders drooping as his head came to a rest on your shoulder— pulling you closer by the loops of your jeans.
Soft!Mingi who cocooned you when you couldn't hold it in anymore after a bad day, one hand patting your back as the other found the crown of your head, pressing you into his chest— hoping that his familiar scent and presence would momentarily drown out your sorrows.
Soft!Mingi who ultimately didn't really care when and how you two hugged, as long he could touch you in some way.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
When they finally broke apart, the sky had deepened to violet and the first stars were pricking through above the darkening sea. The tide had crept closer while they stood there, waves now lapping at their feet. Neither of them had noticed.
Y/N’s hand was still fisted in his shirt, the fabric twisted tight against his chest. Her breath came slow and steady, matching his.
She didn’t let go.
„We should probably…“ she started.
„Stay.“
The word came out before he could stop it. Mingi didn’t correct himself. „Stay with me tonight. I mean…“ He ran his free hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she’d come to recognize. „I don’t want to waste a single second of what’s left.“
The way she looked at him then. It was the same look she’d given him at the restaurant when the old woman called them a beautiful couple. That wide, wondering expression, like she was seeing something she’d always suspected but never dared to name.
„Okay,“ she said simply.
Smut start
The guesthouse was a small whitewashed building perched on the hillside, their room on the top floor with a window that opened directly onto the ocean. A double bed. A single nightstand. A lamp that cast warm amber light across the sheets when Mingi switched it on.
The door clicked shut behind them.
For a moment they just stood there, the reality of the room settling around them. The bed took up most of the space. There was nowhere else to look but at each other.
Mingi reached for her hand. His fingers threaded through hers, slow, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
She stepped closer. Close enough that the tips of her sandals touched his. Close enough that he could smell the salt on her skin, the faint floral scent of whatever soap the restaurant had in their bathroom.
She reached up, her fingers brushing along his jaw. The touch was so light it almost wasn’t there. A question, waiting for an answer.
Mingi turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She made a small sound, barely audible, and his eyes found hers in the low light.
„Tell me if you want me to stop,“ he said. „At any point. Tell me and I will. No questions.“
„I know.“
„And I’m not…“ He hesitated. „I don’t want this to just be…“
She silenced him with a kiss. Soft, certain. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
„I know,“ she repeated. „I know.“
Mingi kissed her like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth. Slow, deliberate, learning the curve of her lower lip, the way she parted for him on instinct. His hands found her waist, fingers spreading across the thin cotton of her dress, and he pulled her closer by increments.
Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt without breaking the kiss . Quick, practiced, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it, his hands sliding up her bare arms, and she shivered under his touch.
He stepped back, pulling her with him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He sat, and she stood between his legs, looking down at him with that same unguarded expression from the beach.
Her hands found the buttons on the front of her dress. She held his gaze as she worked each one free. Slow, deliberate, a small smile curving at the corner of her mouth. The cotton loosened around her collarbone. She shrugged one shoulder, letting the fabric slide.
The dress slipped down her arms and fell to the floor around her ankles. She stood before him in nothing but lace, the lamplight painting her skin amber and gold. She didn’t cross her arms. Didn’t look away. She simply stood there, letting him look.
Mingi’s breath left him in a slow, uneven exhale. His hands lifted to her hips, thumbs tracing the curve of her waist, the jut of her hipbones. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, and she sighed, her fingers threading into his hair.
He laid her back against the pillows, and she pulled him down with her, legs parting to make room for him between her thighs. She reached for the waistband of her underwear herself, lifting her hips to slide them off. He took them from her, dropped them on the floor without looking.
His mouth traced a path down her body. Her throat, the soft space between her breasts, the curve of her stomach. By the time he reached her thighs she was already arching, breath coming faster. He pressed her legs open wider, and she let him, fingers tightening in his hair.
When his tongue found her, she gasped. A raw, broken sound that drove him deeper. He spread her open with his thumbs, tasting her slowly, learning the rhythm that made her hips press up against his mouth. She was slick and warm against his tongue, her thighs trembling around his head.
He brought her to the edge once. Felt her clench and tighten, heard her breath catch and pulled back. She groaned, hips chasing his mouth, but he only kissed the inside of her thigh, lips curving against her skin.
Then he lowered his mouth to her again.
This time he didn’t stop. His tongue worked her clit in steady, firm circles while his fingers slid inside her. One, then two, curling as her back arched off the mattress. Her hips rolled against his mouth, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He pushed her over with a long, deep press of his tongue, and she came with a shuddering cry, her thighs clamping around his head, her body clenching around his fingers. He kept going, gentler now, drawing it out until she was twitching with oversensitivity, a soft whimper escaping her throat.
Before she could catch her breath, she pushed at his chest. He rolled onto his back, surprised, and she was already straddling him, knees settling on either side of his hips.
She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his cock. Already hard, already aching. He groaned, head falling back against the pillow. She stroked him slowly, watching his jaw tighten, his hips twitch involuntarily.
Then she lowered her head.
The sound he made when her mouth closed around him was almost pained. She took him deep, tongue sliding along his length, hand working what she couldn’t reach. His fingers threaded into her hair his breath coming in uneven bursts.
She brought him to the edge once. Felt him tense, heard his breath catch. She pulled back, pressing a kiss to the head, looking up at him through her lashes. He made a strangled sound, half-laugh, half-groan.
She smiled and took him back into her mouth.
The second time she didn’t stop. She worked him deep and steady until his hands fisted in the sheets, his chest heaving, and when he came it was with a broken sound. Her name falling from his lips like he’d been holding it back for years, his hips bucking as she swallowed him through it.
She crawled up his body afterward, and he caught her face, kissing her deep and slow, tasting herself on his lips.
He rolled them over, settling between her thighs. The weight of him, the warmth. She opened for him instinctively, legs wrapping around his waist. He reached between them, guiding himself to her entrance, his forehead pressing against hers.
He pushed inside her slowly. Inch by inch, watching her face, reading every micro-expression. Her lips parted. Her eyes stayed on his. When he was fully seated, he stopped, letting her adjust. She was tight and hot around him, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, jaw tight.
He moved.
Slow, deep strokes that rolled through her in waves. Unhurried not because he was holding back, but because every inch of this night was borrowed time. He wanted to feel every second of it. The way her breath caught on each thrust. The way her nails pressed crescents into his shoulders. The way her eyes never left his.
He lowered his head, pressing his mouth to her throat, her collarbone, the space between her breasts. His pace deepened, and she gasped, hips rising to meet his. He hooked his arm under her knee, pressing it toward her chest, and the change in angle made them both groan. Him sinking deeper, her back arching.
She clutched at him, fingers sliding across his sweat-slicked back. His rhythm built. Deeper, harder, the bed creaking beneath them, their breath mingling in the warm lamplit air. She came with his name on her lips, her body tightening around him in waves, and he followed a heartbeat later, pressing deep, face buried in her neck, her name breaking from him like a prayer.
He stayed inside her as they came down, his forehead pressed to hers, their breath slow and shared in the quiet.
Smut end
Later, they lay tangled in the sheets, the window cracked open to let in the sound of the ocean. The lamp was still on. Neither of them had moved to turn it off.
Y/N traced patterns across his chest, slow and aimless. His hand rested on her lower back, thumb stroking idly.
„Tell me something,“ she said quietly. „Something no one else knows.“
He was quiet for a moment. Then: „I’m terrified of coming back.“
She looked up at him.
„Not of the stage,“ he clarified. „Not of the cameras. I’m terrified that I’ll get back to Seoul and realize the person I was before I left… he’s gone. And I don’t know who I’ll be instead.“
She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him.
„Maybe that’s the point,“ she said softly. „Maybe you’re not supposed to come back the same. Maybe you’re supposed to become whoever you are now.“
He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear.
„And who am I now?“
She smiled. That same smile from the photograph. His favorite one.
„Someone who stops for broken-down cars. Someone who watches the sunset instead of filming it. Someone who sings anime theme songs at the top of his lungs in the car.“
He laughed, soft and real.
„Someone who kissed a girl on a beach in Portugal.“
His breath caught.
„Yeah,“ he said, his voice rough again. „That too.“
She settled back against his chest, her cheek over his heartbeat.
„Mingi?“
„Yeah?“
„I’m glad it was you.“
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her.
„Me too.“
They fell asleep like that. Tangled. Warm. The ocean humming ist quiet lullaby through the open window.
Tomorrow would come, whether they wanted it to or not.
But tonight was theirs
Mingi had never liked airports.
They were places built around leaving.
Around countdowns and final calls and people pretending they weren’t watching the clock.
He stood beside Y/N’s suitcase while the departure board flickered above them, changing gates every few seconds as if it were any other morning.
It wasn’t.
Not for him.
Neither of them had talked much during the drive.
The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply full.
Full of everything that had happened over the past two weeks.
The broken-down car.
Mountain roads in Switzerland.
Pizza in Italy.
Anime every evening.
The beach in Portugal.
One impulsive kiss that had changed everything.
Neither of them seemed willing to be the first to mention it.
„So…“ Y/N adjusted the strap of her backpack. „I guess this is where we stop pretending we don’t have real lives.“
He smiled faintly. „I was hoping the road would just… keep going.“
She looked at him for a long moment before laughing quietly. „I was hoping that too.“
A boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.
She looked toward the security checkpoint. „I should go.“
His chest tightened.
There it was.
The sentence he’d been dreading since yesterday.
He nodded once. „Yeah.“
Another silence.
He had rehearsed dozens of things he wanted to tell her.
Stay.
Come back.
Can I see you again?
None of them seemed fair to ask.
Not when she had worked so hard for this job.
Not when Seoul was everything she’d been chasing for years.
Instead, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him.
He hugged her back immediately.
She fit against him so naturally that it almost hurt.
„I’m really glad my car broke down,“ she murmured.
He closed his eyes. „So am I.“
When they pulled apart, she reached into her pocket.
„My number.“
He laughed softly.
„I already saved it.“
„I know.“
„I just wanted an excuse to stay longer.“
He shook his head with a smile.
She looked relieved that he’d smiled. „You’ll text me?“
„I will.“
„You promise?“
„I promise.“
She nodded once.
Then she looked at him in that serious way she sometimes did.
„And you’ll think about what we talked about?“
He already knew what she meant.
Going back.
Back to music.
Back to the members.
Back to himself.
„I will.“
„No.“ She poked the center of his chest. „You’ll actually do it.“
The corner of his mouth lifted. „…Yes, ma’am.“
„There.“ She smiled. „Much better.“
Then she picked up her suitcase.
He watched her disappear into the line for security.
Halfway there she turned around.
She lifted her hand.
He waved back.
Then she smiled.
That smile. The one from the beach.
The one from the photograph.
The one he’d somehow started thinking of as his favorite.
A moment later she disappeared behind the crowd.
He stayed where he was anyway.
Long after she was gone.
The drive back felt strangely unfamiliar.
Not because he didn’t know the roads.
Because there was nobody in the passenger seat pointing excitedly at random cafés.
Nobody changing the music while pretending she wasn’t.
Nobody asking him if they could „just make one tiny little stop.“
The notebook she’d left on the dashboard for almost two weeks was gone.
The passenger seat looked empty in a way he hadn’t expected.
He caught himself looking toward it at a red light.
For a split second he expected to see her asleep against the window.
Instead… Only sunlight.
He laughed quietly to himself.
„You’re losing it.“
Maybe.
He decided not to fly home immediately.
One more week.
That had always been the plan.
One more week to clear his head before returning to Korea.
The problem was…His head was no longer quiet.
Every little town reminded him of her.
He walked through a market in southern Portugal and instinctively reached for two pastries before remembering there was only one person eating breakfast.
He passed a tiny bookstore and almost turned inside because Y/N would’ve insisted on looking „for just five minutes.“
Five minutes always became forty.
He found himself smiling at the memory.
Then the smile disappeared just as quickly.
It was strange how quickly someone could become part of your routine.
He hadn’t noticed it while she was there.
He noticed it now.
On the third day, he opened Spotify.
The first song that played was Harry Styles.
He skipped it.
The next one was one of ATEEZ’s songs.
He skipped that too.
Silence suddenly felt easier.
On the fifth day, he stopped at a scenic overlook.
The view was incredible.
Blue ocean.
White cliffs.
The kind of place Y/N would’ve climbed out of the car before he’d even parked properly.
He stood there alone.
His hand automatically reached for his camera.
Then stopped.
Who was he taking the picture for?
His gallery was already full.
Not of landscapes.
Of her.
Laughing with powdered sugar on her nose.
Looking out over the Alps.
Reading in cafés.
Standing barefoot in the Atlantic.
Smiling at him just as he’d pressed the shutter.
He sat down on a nearby bench and scrolled through them.
Without realizing it, he’d documented almost the entire trip through her.
Not because she’d asked him to.
Because he’d wanted to remember seeing her happy.
That realization settled heavily in his chest.
It wasn’t just that he missed her. He missed sharing things with her.
The quiet moments that somehow mattered most.
He unlocked his phone.
No messages.
He checked anyway.
Nothing.
Maybe she was overwhelmed.
Maybe she’d already started work.
Maybe she was still unpacking.
Or…
Maybe Portugal had simply been the end.
A beautiful chapter.
Closed.
He hated that possibility more than he wanted to admit.
Without thinking, he pressed her contact.
His thumb hovered over the call button.
00:21.
Seoul.
He stared at the time for a second before locking the phone again.
„No.“
He wasn’t going to wake her in the middle of the night because he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Instead he opened another contact.
Hongjoong answered almost immediately.
„Hey.“
The others appeared one by one until six familiar faces looked back at him.
For the first few minutes they talked about nothing.
Travel.
Food.
The weather.
Mingi listened more than he spoke.
It felt… Comforting.
Like slipping into an old jacket.
Hongjoong eventually tilted his head.
„Something’s on your mind.“
Mingi looked down at the balcony railing.
„I thought I’d feel better after a few days.“
Nobody asked what he meant.
They already knew.
„I don’t.“
He laughed once.
„I keep thinking she’s going to text me. I keep checking my phone.“
He rubbed his forehead.
„And every place I visit…“ He looked out toward the dark ocean. „…I wish she were here to see it.“
The words hung quietly between them.
„I think I already knew before Portugal.“
He smiled sadly.
„I just didn’t want to admit it.“
„Admit what?“ Yunho asked gently.
Mingi didn’t answer immediately.
Instead he thought back to the first day.
A broken-down little car.
A woman with grease on her cheek trying very hard not to cry.
The first laugh they’d shared.
The first time she’d switched on one of his own songs just to annoy him.
The way she’d told him it was okay to take a break.
The way she’d looked at him on that beach.
He smiled despite himself.
„I fell in love with her.“
There. Out loud.
It hurt less than keeping it inside.
„And she’s halfway across the world now.“
Nobody joked.
Nobody teased him.
Hongjoong simply nodded.
„I was wondering when you’d finally say it.“
Mingi chuckled softly.
„I’ve also figured something else out.“
Six pairs of eyes looked back at him.
„I want to come home.“
Wooyoung blinked.
„…Home home?“
He nodded.
„I don’t think I ever wanted to leave music. The feeling that I had to be perfect all the time.“
He paused.
„You know what Y/N did?“
„What?“
„She never once talked to me like I was an idol. She only ever talked to me like I was… me.“
He smiled.
„And somehow, talking to her about all of you…“
He shook his head.
„…I realized I still light up every time I talk about the group.“
„About performing.“
„About making music.“
„I’ve just been too exhausted to notice.“
Hongjoong’s smile was quiet but unmistakable.
„So you’re coming back.“
„I’m coming back.“
„And…“ Mingi looked down at the phone in his hand. „…I’m not ready to let her become a beautiful memory.“
He thought about the promise they’d made at the airport.
I’ll text you.
Maybe she was simply busy.
Maybe she was waiting too.
He smiled to himself.
„I don’t know what happens next. But I know I don’t want Portugal to be the last chapter.“
For the first time since leaving the airport, that thought didn’t fill him with dread.
It gave him something he’d been missing since the road trip ended.
A reason to keep moving forward.
Three weeks.
It wasn’t a long time.
Not really.
Yet somehow, it felt like another lifetime.
Y/N had imagined moving to Seoul a hundred different ways.
She had imagined getting lost on the subway.
Meeting new coworkers.
Trying restaurants she’d only ever seen online.
Decorating her first apartment.
Learning shortcuts through the city.
She had imagined all of that.
She had not imagined that every new experience would make her instinctively reach for her phone.
Just to remember that there wasn’t anyone waiting on the other side anymore.
Or at least…
That was what she kept telling herself.
Her apartment was finally starting to feel lived in.
There were plants on the windowsill now.
Books lined the shelves she’d spent an entire Saturday putting together.
A coffee mug from Portugal sat beside her sink because she still couldn’t bring herself to unpack it into a cupboard.
It reminded her too much of him.
The first week at work had been exactly what she’d expected.
Long.
Overwhelming.
Exciting.
Her team had welcomed her warmly, and every day she understood a little more Korean than the day before. She had already found a tiny café near the office where the owner remembered her order, and there was a convenience store around the corner that somehow always convinced her to buy snacks she didn’t need.
She was happy.
She genuinely was.
That was the strange part.
She liked Seoul.
She liked her job.
She liked waking up every morning knowing she’d built this life herself.
So why did something still feel… Missing?
Her phone buzzed with a news notification while she was eating lunch at work one afternoon.
She opened it absentmindedly.
Then froze.
The headline mentioned ATEEZ.
More specifically…
Song Mingi.
She clicked the article.
It talked about his hiatus.
Fans wondering when he would return.
Speculation.
Rumors.
Photographs from before his break.
Y/N frowned.
She had never really understood just how famous he was.
Not until she moved here.
ATEEZ songs played in cafés.
Posters hung inside train stations.
She passed advertisements with the members‘ faces more than once while commuting.
One afternoon she had even overheard two girls talking excitedly about rumors that Mingi might return soon.
That was the moment something shifted inside her.
The road trip had felt…Separate.
Like the two of them had existed outside the rest of the world.
Now reality had caught up.
He wasn’t just Mingi.
He was one of the biggest idols in the country.
Someone millions of people admired.
Someone whose every move became news.
She had picked up her phone that evening.
Opened their chat.
Typed.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted it again.
Maybe…Maybe Portugal had only been possible because nobody knew who he was there.
Maybe she’d been his escape.
His break from reality.
A summer romance.
Beautiful because it had an ending.
Maybe messaging him now would only remind him that reality had started again.
So she hadn’t.
One day became another.
Then another.
Three weeks.
The silence somehow became harder to break with every passing day.
Saturday morning arrived with rain tapping softly against her windows.
Y/N stayed in oversized pajamas until almost noon before making coffee and calling home.
Her mother’s face appeared almost instantly.
„There is my beautiful kid!“
Y/N smiled.
„Hi, Mom.“
„You look tired.“
„I worked all week.“
„That’s no excuse.“
„It absolutely is.“
Her mother laughed.
Behind her, Y/N caught a glimpse of her father pretending not to listen while reading the newspaper.
He lowered it just enough to wave.
She waved back.
„How’s Seoul?“ her mother asked.
„I love it.“
„Really?“
Y/N nodded.
„My coworkers are nice.“
„The city is amazing.“
„I’ve already found my favorite bakery.“
„Oh?“
„And the owner gives me an extra cookie sometimes.“
„See?“
Her mother smiled proudly.
„I knew you’d be alright.“
Y/N smiled back.
For a moment.
Then it faded without her realizing.
Her mother noticed immediately.
„…What’s wrong?“
„What?“
„That face.“
„I’m smiling.“
„Not with your eyes.“
Y/N looked away.
„I’m fine.“
„Y/N.“
Silence.
„You’ve always made that face when something was bothering you.“
„I’ve known you for twenty-four years.“
„You can’t fool me.“
Y/N sighed.
She should change the subject.
Ask about home.
About Dad.
About literally anything else.
Instead…
Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
„Oh.“
Her mother softened immediately.
„Oh, sweetheart.“
„I…“ Y/N laughed shakily. „This is going to sound so stupid.“
„It won’t.“
„I think…“ She wiped quickly beneath one eye. „…I fell in love.“
Her mother blinked.
„…With who?“
Y/N laughed again.
„The guy.“
„…What guy?“
„The one who found me when my car broke down.“
Silence.
Then her mother’s eyes widened.
„…Continue.“
Y/N took a deep breath.
„I may have forgotten to tell you something.“
„I’ve noticed.“
„I…“
She smiled helplessly.
„We didn’t just spend one night together after my car broke down.“
„No?“
„No.“
„The mechanic declared my car dead.“
„I couldn’t rent another one.“
„So…“
She rubbed the back of her neck.
„…we sort of…“
„What?“
„…drove across Europe together.“
Her mother stared.
„For two weeks.“
Another pause.
„You WHAT?“
„I know.“
„You knew about the hotel.“
„I did.“
„You forgot to mention the road trip afterward?“
„I was afraid.“
„Afraid of what?“
„You.“
Her mother gasped dramatically.
„I would never—“
„You absolutely would’ve flown to Portugal.“
„…Maybe.“
„You would’ve.“
„I might have.“
Y/N laughed through her tears.
„So…“
She quietly told her everything.
Switzerland.
Italy.
Anime.
The beach.
Portugal.
The goodbye.
The kiss.
The night before she left.
She didn’t spare many details.
For the first time since getting on the plane, she said everything out loud.
When she finally finished…
Her mother was completely silent.
Then she smiled.
„Sweetheart.“
„…Yeah?“
„Are you in love with him?“
Y/N closed her eyes.
„…I think I am.“
„No.“
Her mother shook her head gently.
„I think you already know.“
Y/N laughed weakly.
„…Yeah. I do.“
„And why haven’t you texted him?“
She looked down.
„What if…What if it was only a summer romance for him? What if I meant something completely different than he did? What if I’m interrupting his real life?“
Her mother listened patiently.
Then sighed.
„Y/N. You’ve spent your entire life worrying about what might happen. You always have.“
She smiled softly.
„If this feels real to you…go after it.“
„What if he doesn’t feel the same?“
„Then you’ll know.“
„And if he does?“
Her mother smiled wider.
„Then don’t let fear make the decision for you.“
Y/N wiped another tear away.
„I love you.“
„I know.“
„I love you too.“
„And…“
Her mother pointed toward the camera.
„…that young man seemed very sweet.“
Y/N laughed.
„You’ve spoken to him once.“
„I know. I liked him.“
„You also called him handsome.“
„I was correct.“
„Mom.“
„What?“
Y/N couldn’t stop smiling anymore.
After saying goodbye, she ended the call and collapsed backward onto her bed.
The apartment suddenly felt very quiet.
She reached for her phone.
Opened their chat.
Her thumbs hovered above the keyboard.
Hi.
Too boring.
I’ve been thinking about you.
Absolutely not.
I miss…No.
She groaned into her pillow.
„This is impossible.“
She sat back up.
Deleted everything.
Started again.
Nothing sounded right.
Her phone vibrated.
Y/N frowned.
A new message.
From Mingi.
Her heart immediately skipped.
Mingi: Hey. Hope I’m not disturbing you.
She stared at the screen.
He texted first.
He actually texted first.
Before she could overthink it, another message appeared.
Mingi: Can I ask you something?
She smiled despite herself.
Y/N: Of course.
Three little dots appeared almost instantly.
Mingi: Where do you live in Seoul?
She blinked.
That…
Wasn’t the question she’d expected.
Confused, she copied her address and sent it.
A minute passed.
Then another message arrived.
Mingi: Perfect. I’ll be there shortly.
Y/N frowned.
Shortly?
She sat upright.
What did that mean?
Another message.
Mingi: Don’t panic.
She immediately panicked.
She looked around her apartment.
There was a mug on the coffee table.
Laundry drying on a chair.
A blanket lying in the middle of the sofa.
„Oh my god.“
She jumped off the bed.
Within seconds she was frantically folding blankets, hiding laundry, wiping down perfectly clean countertops and wondering why she suddenly cared whether her bookshelf looked organized.
Every few seconds she glanced at her phone.
Half expecting another message explaining that he’d been joking.
None came.
Somewhere outside, a car door slammed.
Y/N froze.
Her heartbeat climbed into her throat.
The apartment buzzer echoed through the room.
Y/N froze in the middle of fluffing a cushion that hadn’t needed fluffing in the first place.
For a second, she simply stared toward the intercom.
Then it rang again.
Her heartbeat climbed into her throat.
She hurried to the small screen mounted beside the front door and pressed the button to activate the camera.
The image flickered to life.
A man stood in front of the entrance.
A black baseball cap pulled low over his face.
A black mask.
An oversized hoodie.
Baggy cargo pants.
His hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced briefly toward the camera.
To anyone else, he probably looked like any other person trying not to be noticed in Seoul.
To Y/N…
She would’ve recognized him anywhere.
Her lips parted. „…Mingi.“
She almost forgot to buzz him in.
With fumbling fingers she pressed the button, hearing the lock downstairs click open.
The elevator.
She needed to get to the elevator.
Her legs moved before her brain caught up.
She opened her apartment door and stood in the hallway just as the elevator arrived a few seconds later.
The doors slid open.
Mingi stepped out.
For a heartbeat they simply looked at each other.
Neither of them smiled immediately.
It was almost as if both of them needed to make sure the other one was actually real.
Then his eyes softened above the mask.
„Hi.“
His voice sounded exactly the same.
Y/N still couldn’t make herself answer.
Instead she stepped aside.
He understood immediately and quietly walked into her apartment.
The door clicked shut behind them.
For another few seconds, silence settled between them.
Mingi reached up first.
He pulled off his cap, running a hand through hair that had grown slightly longer since Portugal.
Then he hooked his fingers beneath the mask and let it fall around his neck.
Finally he shrugged off the oversized hoodie.
When he looked back up…
Y/N was still staring at him.
He blinked. „…Do I have something on my face?“
The question finally broke whatever spell she had been under.
„What are you doing in Seoul?“
The words came out much louder than she’d intended.
He smiled.
Small. Almost shy.
„I came back.“
She frowned in confusion. „…From Portugal?“
He nodded.
„And…“ He rubbed the back of his neck. „…I’m organizing my comeback.“
For a second…
Her brain completely stopped working.
Then her eyes widened.
„…You’re what?“
He laughed quietly.
„I decided. I’m coming back.“
Before she realized she was moving…
She crossed the room in three quick steps and threw her arms around him.
„Oh my god!“
The words came out somewhere between a laugh and a relieved sob.
„Mingi! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!“
She hugged him tightly enough that he actually stumbled back half a step.
His laughter rumbled softly against her shoulder.
„I know.“
„You did it.“
„You actually did it.“
„I’m proud of you.“
The words slipped out before she had the chance to think about them.
Then reality caught up.
Y/N suddenly became painfully aware of exactly how she was standing.
Her arms looped around his neck.
Her body pressed against his.
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
„Oh.“
She immediately tried to step back.
„I’m sorry, I just—“
Before she could move away…
Mingi’s arms wrapped gently around her waist.
He pulled her back.
Not forcefully.
Just enough that she stopped trying to create distance.
She looked up in surprise.
Instead of meeting her eyes…
He lowered his head until his forehead rested lightly against the side of her neck.
She felt his breath against her skin.
For a long moment…
Neither of them spoke.
Then, very quietly…
„I missed you.“ His voice was almost a whisper. „So much.“
Y/N felt her heart squeeze.
„The last few weeks…“ He laughed softly, but there wasn’t any humor in it. „…they were unbearable.“
Her arms slowly settled back around him.
This time intentionally.
„I kept reaching for my phone. I kept thinking I’d text you. I kept wondering if I should.“
He took a slow breath.
„I’ve never really believed in destiny. Or soulmates. Or people meeting exactly when they’re supposed to.“
Another quiet laugh.
„I always thought those things only happened in dramas.“
He finally lifted his head.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Their eyes met.
Y/N had seen Mingi smile.
She had seen him laugh until tears gathered in his eyes.
She had seen him thoughtful.
Embarrassed.
Sleepy.
This… This was different.
He looked vulnerable.
Almost scared.
„I think…“ His voice caught slightly. „…I fell hopelessly in love with you.“
Y/N forgot how to breathe.
He held her gaze for another second.
Then looked away first.
As if he suddenly couldn’t bear the uncertainty anymore.
„My life…“ He smiled faintly. „…is complicated.“
„You know that. It’s busy. It’s loud. It gets overwhelming. I know that better than anyone.“
He swallowed.
„And…“ His eyes stayed fixed on the floor. „I wouldn’t blame you.“
„If you didn’t want…“ He shook his head. „If you didn’t want to be part of that.“
His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against her waist.
„I just…I needed you to know. What that road trip meant to me. What you mean to me.“
„You helped me become someone I actually wanted to be again. You reminded me why I love music. You reminded me who I am outside of everyone else’s expectations.“
His voice became quieter.
„And somewhere between your broken-down car…“
„…and Portugal…“
„…I fell in love with you.“
Silence filled the apartment.
Not an uncomfortable silence.
The kind where everything important had already been said.
Mingi still hadn’t looked back at her.
Perhaps he couldn’t.
Perhaps he was already preparing himself for disappointment.
Very gently…Y/N reached up.
Her fingers rested beneath his chin.
She guided his face back toward hers.
Happy tears blurred her vision.
She laughed through them.
„You idiot.“
His eyebrows knitted together immediately.
„…What?“
„I was going to text you.“
He blinked.
„Today.“
„I spent half an hour trying to figure out what to write.“
She smiled through another tear.
„I wanted to tell you exactly the same thing.“
Confusion slowly gave way to hope in his expression.
„I thought…“ She shook her head. „I thought maybe Portugal had just been a beautiful summer memory for you.“
His eyes widened. „I thought the same thing.“
She laughed. „We’re both idiots.“
„A little.“
„A lot.“
She took one small step closer.
„I fell in love with you too.“
The words settled between them with surprising ease.
As though they had both known for much longer than either wanted to admit.
Mingi smiled.
The one that reached all the way into his eyes.
He cupped her cheek.
This time, when they kissed, there was no uncertainty.
No countdown waiting for tomorrow.
No airport.
No goodbye hanging over them.
Just relief.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling so much their cheeks hurt.
Mingi rested his forehead against hers.
„So…“ He murmured. „…does this mean you’ll give me a chance?“
Y/N pretended to think very hard.
„Hm. I don’t know.“
His face immediately fell.
She laughed.
„I’m kidding. I’d be very happy to try.“
His shoulders relaxed so visibly that she couldn’t help smiling wider.
„I don’t need much anyway.“
„Oh?“
She nodded thoughtfully.
„Just you. A bed. And an anime.“
He laughed. „I can do that.“
„And…“ She reached up, straightening the front of his hoodie.
„…every now and then…“
„…a broken-down car…“
He was already smiling before she finished.
„…and a road trip through little villages where nobody knows who we are.“
He looked at her for a long moment.
„I think…“ He said softly, „…I’d like that very much.“
Outside, Seoul continued exactly as it always had.
Cars passed beneath her apartment.
People hurried home after another busy day.
The city carried on, unaware that somewhere inside one small apartment, a broken-down car in the middle of Europe had quietly changed two lives forever.
Two Years Later
„You’ve officially been promoted.“
Y/N looked up from the bags of takeout balanced in her arms. „…Promoted?“
Wooyoung nodded with complete seriousness.
„From ‚Mingi’s girlfriend‘ to ‚our personal food delivery angel.‘“
„I’ll accept that title.“
„You should.“
He reached into one of the bags before she could even put them down.
Hongjoong immediately smacked his hand away.
„Wait until everyone’s here.“
„I’m starving.“
„So are the rest of us.“
„That’s their problem.“
Y/N laughed quietly as she carried the bags into the practice room.
The familiar smell of the restaurant they all loved filled the room almost instantly.
Like clockwork, every single member looked up.
San actually gasped. „…Is that…“
„The spicy pork place,“ Y/N confirmed.
Yunho practically jumped off the floor. „I love you.“
Wooyoung pointed dramatically.
„I said it first.“
„You say that every time she brings food.“
„Because she always brings food.“
Jongho calmly walked over, already reaching for chopsticks. „Move. I want to eat before they start arguing.“
Yeosang smiled at Y/N while helping unpack everything.
„You spoil us.“
„They deserve it,“ she said.
Hongjoong looked around the room at the seven grown men who had somehow transformed into excited children because someone had mentioned food.
„I’m not sure they do.“
„I heard that,“ San protested.
„I wanted you to.“
Y/N couldn’t stop smiling.
Two years.
Sometimes it still amazed her how naturally she’d found her place among them.
The first few meetings had been intimidating.
She’d spent entire evenings wondering whether she should bow more or speak less or whether she was accidentally sitting in someone’s favorite chair.
The members had solved that problem surprisingly quickly.
Mostly by refusing to let her feel like a guest.
Now…
Wooyoung stole fries from her plate without asking.
Yunho insisted on showing her every dance move he’d learned.
Jongho quietly made sure she always got the last dumpling because he knew it was her favorite.
Yeosang remembered which cafés she liked.
San hugged her every single time they met.
Seonghwa treated her like a little sister.
Hongjoong occasionally asked for her opinion on songs.
And somewhere along the way…
She had stopped being „Mingi’s girlfriend.“
She had simply become…
Y/N.
Family.
Watching Mingi during practice still made her smile.
Even now.
Even after two years.
He looked different on stage than he did at home.
Sharper.
More focused.
Every movement precise.
Every expression effortless.
She still remembered the uncertain man who had stood on a beach in Portugal wondering whether he even wanted to come back.
Now…
Watching him dance…
There wasn’t a trace of doubt left.
When the music stopped, he immediately searched the room.
His eyes found hers within seconds.
He smiled.
Later that evening, the dorm had become unusually quiet.
Most of the members had disappeared into their own rooms, either exhausted from practice or still recovering from eating far too much.
Y/N sat cross-legged on Mingi’s bed while he searched through his backpack.
„So…“
She said.
„Hm?“
She tilted her head innocently.
„I’ve been thinking.“
„I’m already worried.“
„You should be.“
He laughed.
„What is it?“
She pointed toward the speaker in the corner.
„Show me the choreography again.“
He looked over his shoulder.
„…Again?“
„Yes.“
„You’ve already seen it.“
„I know.“
„You’ve watched practice today.“
„I know.“
„You’ve seen rehearsal videos.“
„I know.“
He folded his arms.
„So why exactly do I have to dance it again?“
Y/N smiled much too sweetly.
„Because…“ She leaned back on her hands. „…the choreography for Bad is ridiculously sexy.“
Mingi blinked.
„…Excuse me?“
„You heard me.“
He covered his face with one hand.
„I regret teaching you confidence.“
„You created this problem.“
„Apparently.“
She gave him her best pleading look. „Pleeease?“
He sighed dramatically. „I can’t believe I’m encouraging this.“
„You absolutely are.“
He finally gave in. „Fine.“
He connected his phone to the speaker.
The familiar intro filled the room.
Without another word, he stepped into the middle of the room.
The transformation happened instantly.
Gone was the slightly embarrassed boyfriend.
In his place stood the performer she’d watched fall back in love with dancing.
He moved through the choreography with the same confidence she’d seen countless times on stage.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Effortless.
Y/N rested her chin in her hands.
„See?“ She called when the song ended. „That’s exactly what I meant.“
He laughed, slightly out of breath. „You are impossible.“
„I’ve been told.“
He walked back toward the bed.
Before she could say another word, he gently took her face in both hands.
„What?“ She asked.
„I was just thinking.“ He smiled softly. „I’m really glad your car broke down.“
She laughed immediately.
„We’re still blaming the car?“
„I’ll blame it forever.“
„It had excellent timing.“
„It did.“
He leaned down, kissing her slowly.
When he pulled back again, his forehead rested lightly against hers.
„I love you.“
The words still made her heart skip after all this time.
She smiled.
„I love you too.“
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
„I’ve been planning…“
„Oh?“
„When promotions are over…“
He looked genuinely excited now.
„…we should go away again.“
She already knew where this was going.
„No schedules. No cameras. No interviews. Just us.“
She pretended to consider it.
„Hm.“
He narrowed his eyes.
„What?“
„There is one condition.“
„I knew there’d be one.“
„We need anime.“
He nodded immediately.
„Done.“
„And…“
She smiled mischievously.
„…at least one tiny village where nobody knows who you are.“
„Easy.“
„And…“
She poked his chest.
„…absolutely no broken-down cars this time.“
Mingi laughed so hard he almost fell backward onto the bed.
„I think we’ve used up our lifetime supply of those.“
She smiled.
„I hope so.“
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.
Outside, Seoul buzzed with ist usual restless energy.
Inside the room, however, everything felt wonderfully quiet.
Sometimes Y/N still thought about that lonely country road in Europe.
About a broken-down little car.
About a ridiculously tall stranger who had looked into an engine despite knowing absolutely nothing about cars.
It had been the worst possible start to her adventure.
And somehow…
The best thing that had ever happened to either of them.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
The road through Switzerland looked like it had been painted by someone who couldn't decide which landscape they loved most.
One moment they were driving through sleepy little villages where flower boxes overflowed beneath wooden windows. The next, the road climbed higher and higher until snow-covered mountain peaks appeared in the distance, towering above green valleys that looked almost impossibly perfect.
Y/N had lost count of how many times she had asked Mingi to pull over.
"Again?" he laughed as she pointed toward another scenic overlook.
"Again."
"We stopped ten minutes ago."
"And?"
"You took forty-three pictures."
"I took forty-one."
He looked at her. "...You counted?"
"I absolutely counted."
Mingi shook his head dramatically before steering into the next parking area anyway.
"You know," he muttered while turning off the engine, "I created a monster."
"You offered."
"I did."
"You agreed to my route."
"I did."
"So really..." She smiled as she grabbed her camera. "...this is your fault."
He sighed theatrically. "I walked right into that one."
She laughed as she climbed out of the car.
The cold mountain air immediately greeted her, carrying the scent of pine trees and fresh grass. She walked closer to the wooden fence overlooking the valley and simply stood there.
No picture could ever do it justice.
Behind her she heard Mingi's camera click.
She turned around. "Were you just taking a picture of me?"
"No."
"...Mingi."
"I was photographing the mountain."
"The mountain that somehow has my face?"
"It was in the way."
She narrowed her eyes. "Liar."
He grinned. "Maybe."
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling.
That had become a pattern over the last few days.
Somewhere between the winding roads, tiny cafés and endless playlists, they had fallen into an easy rhythm.
The awkwardness of meeting a complete stranger had disappeared surprisingly quickly.
Now they argued over which roadside bakery had the best croissants. They shared snacks without asking. They competed over spotting the most ridiculous road signs.
And every morning they somehow ended up laughing before they had even finished their coffee.
It felt...Easy.
Far easier than Y/N had expected.
She had also discovered something else.
Mingi was incredibly easy to tease.
Especially after she had finally listened to ATEEZ. The first time had happened completely by accident. She had been scrolling through Spotify while he was paying for fuel.
Curiosity had gotten the better of her. She had typed "ATEEZ."
The next thing she knew, one of their songs started playing through the car speakers.
Mingi had frozen halfway back into the driver's seat. "...Really?"
She looked up innocently. "What?"
"You picked our music."
"I wanted to see if you're actually good."
"And?"
She had let the chorus play for another minute before nodding. "...You're alright."
"Alright?"
"I'm kidding."
He had looked so offended that she couldn't stop laughing.
Since then, it had become a daily tradition. At completely random moments she'd switch on one of ATEEZ's songs. Sometimes she'd even turn the volume up dramatically.
Mingi reacted every single time. "Oh no."
"What?"
"Not this one."
"Why?"
"I have to hear my own voice."
"I thought singers liked that."
"We don't."
"Liar."
He pointed accusingly at the radio. "You planned this."
"I absolutely did."
"You're evil."
She smiled sweetly. "I've been told."
She had also learned something else.
Mingi adored his members. It was obvious whenever he talked about them. He never realized how much he smiled until she pointed it out.
"...You smile differently."
"Hm?"
"When you talk about them."
"I do?"
She nodded. "Especially Yunho."
"Actually..." She thought for a moment. "...all of them."
He laughed softly. "They're family."
She believed him immediately.
He had told her stories about Wooyoung accidentally burning dinner. About Yunho getting distracted halfway through conversations. About San insisting on hugging everyone. About Hongjoong pretending to be stricter than he really was.
Every story ended the same way. With Mingi smiling.
Sometimes laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
She found that version of him...Adorable.
There was no better word.
Not the famous idol. Not the performer she'd watched on stage through videos.
Just...Mingi.
The man who got overly excited about good coffee, anime recommendations and finding tiny bookstores in random villages. The man who sang loudly to songs on the radio when he thought no one was paying attention. The man who insisted every scenic route was worth the extra thirty minutes.
She liked that Mingi. Very much.
By the time they crossed into Italy, the mountains slowly gave way to rolling hills and eventually the sea.
The air became warmer. Salt lingered on the breeze. Palm trees appeared between colorful houses.
The little coastal town they'd chosen for the night looked almost unreal.
Narrow streets climbed the hillside.
Scooters squeezed between tiny cafés.
Laundry fluttered from balconies.
The entire town smelled like garlic, fresh bread and the ocean.
"I think..." Y/N looked around while they wandered toward the harbor. "...I could stay here forever."
Mingi nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."
Dinner found them in a tiny family-owned restaurant overlooking the water.
There were maybe ten tables altogether.
An elderly couple worked together without saying much.
The husband baked pizzas. The wife greeted every guest like an old friend.
They sat outside. The sea stretched endlessly before them while the sky slowly turned orange.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
Neither needed to.
Their pizzas arrived, filling the air with the smell of fresh basil and melted mozzarella.
Y/N took a bite. "...I'm ruined."
Mingi looked over. "What?"
"I'll never enjoy frozen pizza again."
He laughed. "That's a fair sacrifice."
She smiled before another thought crossed her mind. "...Can I ask you something?"
His expression softened.
"You can ask."
She hesitated. "You don't have to answer."
"Okay."
She looked down at her plate. "The other day..."
"When you told me about your hiatus..."
He nodded slowly.
"You didn't really tell me why."
Silence settled between them again.
This time it felt different.
He looked out toward the sea instead of at her.
For a while she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he quietly spoke. "I got overwhelmed."
There wasn't any drama in his voice. Just honesty.
"It happened slowly. Schedules became busier. There were more people. More expectations. Everything became..."
He searched for the word. "...louder."
Y/N listened without interrupting.
"I love performing. I still do."
"But somewhere along the way..." He sighed. "...I stopped knowing where Mingi ended and the idol started."
His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his glass.
"I'd wake up already tired. I couldn't enjoy things the way I used to."
"So..." He smiled faintly. "...I wondered if maybe I wasn't meant for this anymore. If I was enough. I had a lot of self doubt."
Y/N frowned. "And that's why you came here."
He nodded. "I wanted to figure out whether I missed it."
"...Do you?"
He looked toward the sunset. "...Sometimes. But I'm also terrified of going back."
His voice was quieter now.
She hadn't expected him to tell her something so personal.
They had only known each other for a few days.
He noticed her expression and smiled awkwardly.
"Sorry. I don't usually talk this much."
She shook her head immediately.
"Don't apologize. You trusted me."
"I think..." She smiled softly. "...that's kind of an honor."
For a second he simply looked at her.
The sunset reflected in his dark eyes.
Without really thinking about it...
Y/N reached across the table.
Her fingers gently found his hand.
He looked down in surprise.
"So?" she said quietly. "It's okay."
He frowned slightly.
"What is?"
"Taking a break."
She gave his hand a tiny squeeze.
"It's okay if you're tired."
"It's okay if you needed to leave."
"You don't have to have everything figured out right now."
"The world will still be there when you're ready."
He didn't say anything.
He simply listened.
"You've spent years giving people your energy."
She smiled.
"Maybe it's your turn to keep some for yourself."
For a long moment neither of them moved.
The only sound was the sea quietly rolling against the rocks below.
Then Y/N suddenly realized...She was still holding his hand.
Why am I holding his hand?
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
She quickly cleared her throat.
"...Besides." She tilted her head dramatically. "If you quit now..."
He blinked.
"...who exactly am I supposed to bully with your own songs?"
He stared at her.
Then laughed.
A real laugh. The kind that reached his eyes.
"Oh. So that's why you're encouraging me."
"Exactly."
"I have priorities."
"I knew it."
"You'd better go back eventually." She pointed at him with mock seriousness. "I've only just started embarrassing you."
He shook his head, still smiling.
"I walked right into another one."
"You really do."
He looked down for a brief second.
Their hands had slipped apart naturally sometime during her joking.
She wasn't even sure exactly when.
Strangely...She almost missed the warmth.
That thought caught her completely off guard.
She quickly picked up another slice of pizza.
It had to be the pizza making her think strange things.
Right?
Across from her, Mingi smiled quietly to himself while looking out at the sunset.
By the fourth day of traveling together, Y/N had realized something.
Traveling with another person was significantly cheaper.
The revelation had come while she was staring at yet another hotel booking on her phone.
„If we keep booking separate rooms,“ she had mumbled over breakfast that morning, „I’m going to arrive in Seoul with enough money left for… maybe one instant ramen.“
Mingi had laughed into his coffee. „You’ll survive.“
„I’d rather survive with furniture.“
They had looked at each other for a second before the same thought crossed both of their minds.
„We could…“ Y/N had started. „…book one room?“
Mingi finished. „…with two beds.“
Exactly.
It had made perfect sense.
Since then, every hotel they booked had two single beds.
It saved money.
They still had their own space. And, to Y/N’s surprise, it had never felt awkward.
By now they had developed an unspoken routine.
One of them showered while the other looked for tomorrow’s route.
They watched an episode or two of anime before going to sleep.
Then they wished each other goodnight.
Simple. Comfortable.Easy.
Unfortunately…
The tiny coastal town they had fallen in love with wasn’t exactly overflowing with hotels.
After asking at three different places, all of them shaking their heads apologetically, they finally found a family-run inn near the harbor.
The owner looked genuinely apologetic. „I only have one room left.“
Y/N and Mingi exchanged a glance.
„Two beds?“ Y/N asked hopefully.
The older woman smiled awkwardly. „One.“
Silence. „A… big one?“
The woman nodded enthusiastically. „Very big.“
Y/N looked at Mingi.
He scratched the back of his neck. „I can sleep on the floor.“
The owner immediately shook her head. „No, no. The floor is old stone.“
She frowned.
„You’ll wake up unable to move.“
Mingi laughed awkwardly. „That’s… good to know.“
Y/N looked at the booking app on her phone.
Everything within almost forty kilometers was full.
She sighed.
„I think…“ She looked back at him.„…we’ll survive one night.“
He nodded. „I think so too.“
The room was exactly as advertised.
Tiny.
A wooden wardrobe. A little balcony overlooking the sea.
One enormous bed taking up almost all the remaining space.
Y/N couldn’t help smiling. „It really is big.“
„It is.“
Mingi dropped his backpack beside the wardrobe. „I’ll stay on my side.“
She laughed. „I wasn’t worried.“
An hour later they were both showered, wearing comfortable clothes and sitting against the headboard with the television balanced on a chair opposite the bed.
Y/N had insisted on choosing the anime.
Mostly because Mingi had spent the last few nights insisting that she needed „proper anime education.“
Tonight she had picked the one that kept appearing on recommendation lists.
„The Apothecary Diaries.“
Mingi looked pleasantly surprised. „Good choice.“
„I have excellent taste.“
„You’ve watched exactly one anime.“
„And it was good.“
He rolled his eyes. „Fair.“
The first episode started.
Within ten minutes… Y/N forgot they were even watching television.
„This girl is so weird.“
Mingi smiled knowingly. „Keep watching.“
„No spoilers.“
„I wasn’t going to.“
„You definitely were.“
„…Maybe a little.“
She pointed a warning finger at him before turning back toward the screen.
By the halfway point she was completely invested. „Wait.“
„What?“
„So she noticed because…“ She gasped quietly. „No way.“
Mingi looked more amused by her reactions than the actual episode.
„I knew you’d like this.“
„I wasn’t expecting it to be this good.“
„Told you.“
„You did.“
She reluctantly admitted it.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself. The bed dipped slightly as he shifted to get more comfortable.
Only then did Y/N realize how close they actually were.
Not touching. But close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
She glanced sideways.
It wasn’t exactly fair.
How could someone be this…Large?
She had noticed it before, of course.
Whenever they walked through crowded streets, Mingi naturally stood out.
He was ridiculously tall. Broad shoulders. Long legs.
Even sitting beside her, he somehow seemed to occupy twice as much space as any normal person.
And…
She looked a little longer than she probably should have.
He was handsome. Very handsome.
Not in the perfectly styled magazine-cover way she’d first seen after googling him.
Like this…
With messy hair that hadn’t quite dried after his shower. A faded T-shirt. Reading glasses perched on his nose because apparently he wore them when watching television.
He looked… Cute.
Hot.
Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Hot?
Where had that come from?
Y/N quickly looked back at the television.
Focus.
The anime.
Poison. Medicine. Mysteries.
Not Mingi.
Her eyes drifted sideways again before she could stop herself.
She wondered…
Did he also think about her that way?
The thought appeared so suddenly that it startled her.
Why am I even wondering that?
Y/N’s stomach flipped.
Hold on.
Why was she wondering that?
She blinked rapidly at the television.
No.
Absolutely not.
She wasn’t…
Was she?
Her heart suddenly felt much louder than the opening theme.
No.
No, no, no.
She had known him for…
What?
Four days?
Five?
She was tired.
That had to be it.
The traveling. The lack of sleep.
Too much Italian pizza. Definitely the pizza.
Beside her, Mingi paused the episode.
Y/N immediately looked over. „Hm?“
He was studying her with a slight frown. „Are you alright?“
His voice was lower than usual.
The kind of voice people naturally used late at night.
For reasons Y/N couldn’t begin to explain…
A tiny shiver ran down her spine.
Her brain completely betrayed her.
Oh.
Oh no.
Her heart immediately accelerated.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
„What?“
Mingi asked again. „You’ve looked distracted for the last few minutes.“
She blinked. „I…“
Words. Use words.
„I’m fine.“
„You sure?“
He tilted his head slightly.
The movement somehow made him look even more attractive.
Why? Why now? Why was her brain suddenly noticing things it had politely ignored for the past few days?
His smile. His voice.
The stupid reading glasses.
She needed to leave. Immediately.
„I…“ She practically jumped off the bed. „I think I should shower.“
Mingi blinked. „…Didn’t you already shower?“
„…Did I?“
„…Yes.“
„Oh.“
Silence.
She pointed vaguely toward the bathroom.
„I’m… going to shower again.“
„…Okay?“
She smiled far too brightly. „Be right back.“
Then she disappeared into the bathroom before he could ask another question.
The moment the door closed behind her, she leaned both hands against the sink.
Her reflection stared back at her. „What is wrong with you?“
She whispered it to herself.
She turned on the cold water and splashed some onto her face.
Her cheeks were noticeably warm.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
She looked ridiculous.
After a long breath, she climbed into the shower and let the cool water run over her shoulders.
Maybe she really was just tired.
Traveling together every day naturally made people closer.
That was all.
Right?
She laughed quietly to herself.
Who was she trying to convince?
The truth was painfully obvious.
Mingi was attractive.
The entire internet agreed.
He was kind. Funny. Thoughtful.
He stopped for stranded strangers.
He listened.
He made coffee every morning because he somehow woke up before her every single day.
He remembered that she liked strawberry jam more than apricot.
He slowed down during hikes because her legs were shorter than his.
And somehow…
Despite being famous…
He had never once made her feel like she was talking to a celebrity.
Just… Mingi.
She groaned softly, letting the water fall over her face. „This is so stupid.“
She wasn’t supposed to think about him like that.
Not now. Not during a road trip that would eventually end. Not when she was moving to Seoul for a completely new life. Not when he was still trying to figure out whether he even wanted to return to the career that had shaped his entire adult life.
Her heart, unfortunately, seemed completely uninterested in listening to reason.
Y/N sighed. „This trip,“ she murmured to herself, „is going to be the death of me.“
Outside the bathroom, she could faintly hear the television start playing again.
Apparently Mingi had decided to continue watching without her.
She smiled despite herself. He’d probably have to explain everything she’d missed.
The closer they got to France, the more Mingi found himself pretending not to look at the little map on the dashboard.
Switzerland was behind them.
Italy slowly disappeared in the rearview mirror.
Next came the south of France.
Then Spain.
Then Portugal.
Then…Seoul.
Well. Not for him.
For Y/N.
The realization settled somewhere in his chest every time he looked at the route. There weren’t that many stops left anymore. A week ago, the road had seemed endless. Now every town they crossed off somehow felt like another page turning toward the end of the story.
He didn’t like that feeling.
Not one bit.
He glanced sideways.
Y/N had her head resting against the window, sunglasses perched on top of her hair while she absentmindedly looked at the lavender fields passing by.
Somewhere over the last few days, she’d become part of the routine.
Morning coffee.
Arguing over which bakery looked best.
Stopping every hour because she’d spotted „something cute.“
Her notebook permanently lying on the dashboard.
The passenger seat didn’t feel like a passenger seat anymore.
It just felt…Like her place.
He caught himself smiling.
„What?“ Y/N looked over immediately.
„What what?“
„You’re smiling.“
„…Am I?“
„You are.“ She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. „Were you making fun of me?“
„No.“
„You definitely were.“
„I wasn’t.“
„Liar.“
He chuckled. „I was just thinking.“
„That’s dangerous.“
„According to who?“
„Me.“
He laughed louder this time.
She had become comfortable enough to tease him constantly.
And strangely…He loved it.
The playlist changed.
Harry Styles began singing through the speakers.
Y/N immediately turned the volume up. „Oh, I love this one.“
„I noticed.“
She started singing before the first chorus even arrived.
Not quietly either.
Completely committed.
She drummed her fingers against the dashboard and pointed dramatically out of the windshield every time the lyrics became particularly emotional.
Mingi couldn’t help laughing.
„You know…“ He said. „…you’re a very enthusiastic singer.“
„I’m incredible.“
„Hm.“
„You disagree?“
„I admire your confidence.“
She gasped dramatically. „That was rude.“
„It was honest.“
She reached over and lightly smacked his shoulder. „Drive.“
„Yes, ma’am.“
By the time the song faded out, they were both laughing.
Then…The next song started.
Mingi recognized the opening instrumental immediately.
He let out an exaggerated groan. „Oh no.“
Y/N’s face lit up. „Oh yes!“
She turned the volume up another few clicks for Deja Vu.
„Absolutely not.“
„It’s my favorite now.“
„You’ve been listening to this every day.“
„And?“
„I hear my own voice enough.“
„I don’t.“ She pointed triumphantly toward the speakers. „So we’re listening.“
He sighed dramatically. „I created this problem.“
„You really did.“
Before the chorus even started, Y/N was already moving with the music.
One foot rested against the dashboard while the other tapped along with the beat.
She sang every line she’d managed to memorize over the last few days, occasionally replacing Korean words she didn’t know with complete nonsense.
Mingi laughed so hard he nearly missed a turn. „That wasn’t even close.“
„I improvised.“
„You absolutely invented three words.“
„They sounded convincing.“ She smiled proudly before continuing.
He shook his head.
Hopeless. Completely hopeless.
Still… He couldn’t stop smiling.
He glanced at her again.
Her summer dress had ridden up slightly while she danced in the seat, exposing more of her thigh than she’d probably noticed.
His eyes lingered for exactly half a second before he forced them back to the road.
Focus.
Drive.
Road.
Not Y/N.
Lately… He’d been noticing things.
Little things.
Things he hadn’t paid attention to during the first days.
The way she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear whenever she concentrated. The tiny scar on one of her knees. The freckles across her shoulders she’d only discovered after they’d spent an afternoon at the beach.
Even the way she laughed.
At first, he’d thought she laughed with her whole face.
Now he knew there were different versions.
The polite laugh. The sarcastic laugh. The one where she’d snort because she’d tried too hard not to laugh.
His favorite.
Then there had been last night.
He still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.
She’d disappeared into the bathroom insisting she needed another shower despite already having taken one.
When she’d come back… He’d looked up without thinking.
She’d been wearing comfortable sleep shorts and a simple camisole.
Nothing extraordinary.
Just…Normal clothes for a warm summer evening.
She hadn’t been trying to impress anyone.
If anything, she’d looked completely unaware of how she looked.
Her hair had still been damp.
She’d climbed back onto the bed, apologized for disappearing so suddenly and immediately become invested in the anime again.
Meanwhile…He’d spent far too much energy reminding himself to look at the television.
Not because of what she’d been wearing.
Well… Not only.
It was everything together.
The oversized smile she’d given him. The way she’d curled her legs beneath herself while watching. How excited she’d gotten every time she guessed part of the mystery correctly.
She was…Ridiculously attractive.
And somehow…It had very little to do with appearance.
Of course she was beautiful.
He wasn’t blind.
But it was everything else.
Her curiosity. Her kindness. Her stubborn determination to stop at every scenic overlook.
The way she’d become friends with elderly café owners within five minutes.
How she’d held his hand in Italy without making it feel strange. How she’d told him it was okay to take a break.
Nobody had said that to him in a very long time.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
This was dangerous.
Because Portugal was getting closer.
And once she boarded that plane…That would be it.
They reached their hotel outside Marseille just before sunset.
It was a small stone building surrounded by olive trees, quiet enough that all Mingi could hear when he stepped outside was the distant sound of cicadas.
After dinner, Y/N announced she was going to explore the little bookstore they’d passed earlier.
„I’ll only be half an hour.“
„You said that at the last bookstore.“
„I meant it.“
He laughed. „Have fun.“
Once she’d disappeared down the street, he sat on the little balcony outside their room.
His phone buzzed.
Perfect timing.
He pressed the familiar group video call.
One by one, familiar faces appeared.
Wooyoung.
San.
Yeosang.
Yunho.
Jongho.
Seonghwa.
Finally Hongjoong.
„There he is!“ Wooyoung grinned. „The European traveler.“
„You look relaxed,“ Yunho observed.
„I am.“
Hongjoong leaned closer to his camera.
„So…How’s your trip?“
Mingi smiled. „It’s been…“ He searched for the right word. „…really nice.“
„You’ve been gone almost a month now,“ San said. „Still enjoying it?“
„I think I needed it.“
Hongjoong nodded. „I can tell.“
Then Wooyoung smirked.
„So…how’s the stranded girl?“
Seven pairs of eyes suddenly watched him a little too closely.
Mingi laughed. „She’s good.“
„Her car?“
„Dead.“
„Ouch.“
„So…“ Yeosang asked. „…what happened?“
Mingi explained everything.
The mechanic.
The rental companies being fully booked.
His suggestion that they simply continue the road trip together.
The mountains.
Italy.
The tiny towns.
The anime every evening.
By the time he finished, nobody interrupted him.
Instead…
They were smiling.
„You seem happy,“ Yunho said quietly.
Mingi looked away toward the setting sun. „…I am.“
Hongjoong noticed immediately. „You like spending time with her.“
It wasn’t really a question.
Mingi smiled. „I do.“
„What is she like?“ Jongho asked.
He thought for a second.
„She’s…“ He laughed softly. „…very curious.“
„She gets excited over tiny things.“
„Yesterday she spent twenty minutes talking to an old fisherman because she wanted to know why he repaired his nets by hand.“
The members chuckled.
„She laughs at my stories. She bullies me with our own songs.“
Wooyoung burst out laughing. „I knew I’d like her.“
„And…“ Mingi smiled to himself. „…she’s kind. Really kind.“
„When she listens…“ He paused. „…she actually listens.“
The call fell quiet.
Hongjoong rested his chin on his hand.
„You know…“
„What?“
„I haven’t heard you talk about someone like that in a long time.“
Mingi blinked.
Had he really?
He thought back over everything he’d just said.
The smile that hadn’t left his face once.
The warmth in his chest every time he’d mentioned her.
His eyes drifted toward the little bookstore across the street.
Through the window he could just make out Y/N wandering between shelves with a book in her hands.
He smiled again without realizing it.
„…Yeah,“ he admitted quietly. „I guess I haven’t.“
Mingi had barely finished speaking when Seonghwa leaned a little closer to his camera.
One eyebrow slowly disappeared beneath his fringe.
„So…“
Mingi already knew that tone. „…what?“
Seonghwa smiled. „Do you like her?“
Mingi blinked. „What kind of question is that?“
„A very simple one.“
„Of course I like her.“ He frowned. „I wouldn’t still be traveling with her if I didn’t.“
Across the call, Wooyoung groaned dramatically.
„Oh my god.“
„He doesn’t get it.“
Yunho laughed.
„He genuinely doesn’t.“
Mingi looked from one face to another.
„What?“
Seonghwa rested his chin in his hand, looking far too amused.
„I know you like her. That’s obvious.“
„What I meant…“ His smile widened. „…is whether you like her.“
The words landed with surprising force.
Mingi stared.
His mouth opened.
Then closed again.
„…Oh.“
The seven of them watched him in complete silence.
For once, nobody interrupted.
Nobody made a joke.
Mingi looked away from the screen.
The little street outside had turned golden beneath the evening sun. A couple walked hand in hand past the bookstore while someone laughed somewhere farther down the road.
Did he…?
He thought about Y/N singing Harry Styles far too loudly.
About the way she always insisted on stopping for every scenic overlook.
About holding his hand in Italy.
About the ridiculous second shower she’d taken last night.
About the fact that he now looked for her every time she disappeared into a shop.
He slowly rubbed the back of his neck.
„I…“ He let out a quiet breath. „I honestly don’t know.“
Nobody said anything.
„I could.“
His own answer surprised him.
„I think…“ He searched for the words. „…I think I could.“
A small smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face.
„But?“
Mingi laughed softly. „The trip is almost over.“
His smile became smaller.
„Portugal is only a few days away. Then she’ll fly to Seoul.“
He shrugged.
„So maybe, I’ll never really find out.“
The call fell quiet.
Hongjoong looked thoughtful.
Before anyone could continue, the door behind him opened.
Mingi instinctively turned around.
Y/N stepped inside carrying a small paper bag and two books pressed against her chest.
„I found one!“
She smiled brightly before noticing the tablet on the balcony table.
„…Oh.“
Seven unfamiliar faces immediately looked back at her.
She froze. „…Hi?“
The members collectively leaned closer to their cameras.
Wooyoung practically waved both hands.
„Hi!“
San smiled warmly.
„Hello!“
Yunho lifted his hand in greeting.
Yeosang smiled politely.
Jongho…
Jongho looked between Y/N and Mingi once before a slow grin spread across his face.
„So…“ He looked directly at Mingi. „…I can see why you stopped the car.“
She looked down at the paper bag in her hands as if it had suddenly become the most interesting object in the world.
Mingi immediately sat up straighter.
„Don’t.“
Seven innocent faces stared back at him.
„What?“
„Don’t make it weird.“
„We’re not.“
„You are.“
„We’re complimenting her.“
„You’re embarrassing her.“
Y/N gave an awkward little laugh somewhere behind him.
Wooyoung pointed dramatically at the screen.
„Oh, he’s protective now.“
„Interesting.“ Hongjoong covered his mouth to hide his smile.
San was already laughing.
Even Jongho looked suspiciously pleased with himself.
Mingi sighed. „I am hanging up.“
„Aww.“
„Bye.“
„Tell Y/N we said hello!“
He quickly ended the call before anyone could make things even worse.
Silence settled over the balcony.
Mingi buried his face in one hand.
„…I’m sorry.“ He turned toward Y/N. „They’re usually…“
He thought for a second.
„…Actually, no. They’re exactly like that.“
He expected her to look uncomfortable.
Embarrassed.
Maybe even overwhelmed.
Instead… She was smiling.
Not just smiling.
Grinning.
From one ear to the other.
„What?“ He asked.
She laughed. „They’re chaos.“
„They are.“
„But…“ She shrugged. „…they seem really nice.“
„They’re idiots.“
„I liked them.“
„They’re still idiots.“
„I believe that too.“
He couldn’t help smiling.
„I apologize on behalf of the idiots.“
„They did compliment me.“
„They absolutely shouldn’t have done it like that.“
She waved him off. „It’s okay.“
„They reminded me of my university friends.“
She placed her books on the little balcony table before sitting in the chair beside him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The evening breeze carried the smell of the sea all the way into town.
Y/N looked toward the dark screen of his tablet.
„…Do you miss them?“
The question caught him off guard.
He looked down at his hands. „…Yeah.“
A quiet smile appeared. „I do.“
„They’re loud. They never let me have a serious conversation.“
She smiled knowingly. „I noticed.“
„But…“ He looked toward the sunset. „…I miss them.“
His expression slowly changed.
„I just…“ He sighed. „I’m still not sure if I miss…“
He searched for the words. „…everything else.“
„The idol life.“
Y/N stayed quiet.
She never rushed him.
Never tried filling silences.
Instead she simply asked,
„Can I ask you something?“
He nodded.
„Do you like making music?“
„…Yes.“
„Do you like performing with your members?“
A small smile appeared automatically.
„Yes.“
„Do you like seeing people connect with your songs?“
„…Yes.“
„Do you like standing on stage and making thousands of people happy?“
He didn’t even have to think.
„Yes.“
She nodded thoughtfully.
Then she stood.
Mingi looked up as she walked around the little table until she was standing in front of him.
„What are you doing?“
Instead of answering, she reached up with one hand and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
It was such a simple gesture.
So casual.
Yet it made him completely forget what he’d been about to say.
She smiled softly.
„I think…“
She looked him straight in the eyes.
„…you already have your answer.“
Before he could react, she lightly tapped the tip of his nose with one finger.
Boop.
„There.“
She smiled proudly.
„Professional life advice.“
Mingi stared at her.
„…Did you just…“
„Boop your nose?“
„Yes.“
„I did.“
„…Why?“
She shrugged.
„It felt appropriate.“
He laughed.
He couldn’t help it.
The kind that left his chest feeling lighter.
Y/N smiled triumphantly.
„Ahh I love that smile.“
„What?“
„I missed it.“
He looked at her for a long second.
Somehow…
Without realizing it…
She had managed to untangle something inside him that weeks of traveling alone hadn’t been able to touch.
And she had done it with four questions…
…and a boop on the nose.
If someone had told him a week ago that a stranger with a broken-down car would become the person who understood him best…
He would’ve laughed.
He wasn’t laughing anymore.
He was simply wondering how he was supposed to say goodbye to her in a few days.
Portugal somehow felt different from every place they had visited before.
Maybe because neither of them could pretend there were endless roads ahead anymore.
This was the last stop.
Tomorrow, Y/N would board a plane to Seoul.
Tomorrow, he would... he wasn't even sure.
Go back to traveling alone for a while.
Eventually return to Korea.
Eventually decide whether he was ready to step back onto a stage.
He had spent the entire drive trying not to think about tomorrow.
He wasn't doing a very good job.
The little coastal town they had chosen for their final night was old enough that most of its streets were too narrow for cars. Whitewashed buildings climbed up the hillside, balconies overflowing with flowers, while the Atlantic stretched endlessly below them.
It was beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
Because every breathtaking view now came with the quiet reminder that there weren't many left to share with her.
They wandered through the streets until they found a tiny restaurant tucked into an alley overlooking the water.
There were only a handful of tables outside.
An elderly woman welcomed them with a warm smile and disappeared inside before they had even opened the menus.
"I don't think she actually expected us to order," Y/N whispered. "I think she's already decided what to eat."
A minute later, the woman returned carrying two glasses of homemade lemonade.
"No menu," she announced proudly in accented English. "You eat what my husband cooks."
Y/N looked at Mingi. "I kind of love that."
"So do I."
They surrendered immediately.
Neither of them regretted it.
Fresh grilled fish.
Roasted vegetables.
Warm bread.
The best potatoes Mingi had eaten in his life.
At one point the elderly owner returned to refill their glasses.
She looked between them with a soft smile.
"You two..." She clasped her hands together. "...very beautiful couple."
Both of them froze.
Y/N nearly inhaled her lemonade the wrong way.
Mingi coughed into his hand.
"Oh..."
Y/N smiled awkwardly.
"We're actually—"
The woman waved her hand.
"No, no."
She smiled knowingly.
"I see."
Mingi blinked.
"...See what?"
She pointed between them. "The way you look."
Then she patted Y/N's shoulder affectionately.
"Very sweet."
Before either of them could respond, she disappeared inside again.
Silence settled over the table.
Y/N stared very intently at her potatoes.
Mingi suddenly found the ocean fascinating.
After a few seconds she laughed quietly.
"That was..."
"Unexpected."
"Very."
She glanced at him.
"I guess we spend a lot of time together."
"...Yeah."
"And we're traveling."
"...Yeah."
"So people probably assume."
He nodded.
"Probably."
But even after the conversation moved on...
The old woman's words lingered.
Not because strangers had mistaken them for a couple.
That had happened before.
At cafés.
On trains.
In little shops.
Usually they laughed it off.
This time...It had felt different.
Mingi wasn't entirely sure why.
Or maybe he was.
Over the last few days...Something had changed.
He noticed it in the quiet moments.
When their hands brushed while reaching for the same map.
When she laughed at one of his terrible jokes.
When she looked at him instead of the scenery after seeing something beautiful, as if checking whether he had seen it too.
Maybe he was imagining it.
Maybe he wasn't.
He honestly couldn't tell anymore.
After dinner they walked down toward the beach.
The tide was low.
Gentle waves rolled across wet sand that reflected the orange sky like glass.
Y/N slipped off her sandals almost immediately.
"The water isn't even cold."
She stepped into the shallow waves, gathering the hem of her dress in one hand.
Mingi stayed farther back, watching her.
The wind caught her hair, lifting a few loose strands across her face.
She wasn't doing anything extraordinary.
She simply stood there.
Watching the sunset.
The ocean stretched endlessly behind her while everything around them glowed gold.
Without thinking, Mingi reached for his camera.
Click.
The shutter echoed softly.
At the exact same moment...Y/N turned around.
She found him immediately.
Instead of looking annoyed...She smiled.
Not the polite smile she gave strangers.
Not the sarcastic one she reserved for teasing him.
This one.
The one he'd come to recognize over the past week.
Small.
Warm.
Completely genuine.
It always reached her eyes.
For some reason...It felt like it only ever appeared when she forgot to guard herself.
When she was simply Happy.
His finger remained resting lightly on the camera.
He knew that photograph would become his favorite.
She walked back toward him through the water.
"What?" she asked.
"You looked..." He stopped himself.
"What?"
"...Happy."
She smiled again. "I am."
His chest tightened.
They continued walking in silence.
The beach was almost empty now.
Only a few distant silhouettes remained.
The waves washed quietly over the sand before retreating again.
Mingi slipped one hand into his pocket.
Tomorrow.
She'd be gone tomorrow.
The thought suddenly felt unbearable.
He tried imagining getting back into the car without her notebook on the dashboard.
Without Harry Styles playing far too loudly.
Without someone insisting they stop every thirty minutes because she'd spotted another "cute little place."
The passenger seat would be empty again.
The silence he'd spent a month searching for suddenly sounded awful.
His heart actually hurt.
The realization arrived so quietly that he almost missed it.
He didn't just enjoy traveling with her.
He didn't just think she was funny.
Or kind. Or beautiful.
Somewhere between a broken-down car, mountain roads, terrible singing and anime every evening...
He had fallen for her.
He stopped walking.
Y/N, still looking toward the ocean, took another step before bumping lightly into his back.
"Oh!"
She lost her balance for a split second.
Instinct took over.
Mingi turned immediately, catching her by the hips before she could stumble backward.
"You okay?"
She nodded automatically.
"Yeah."
Neither of them moved.
His hands remained lightly against her waist.
She was much closer than he'd expected.
Close enough that he could see tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose.
Close enough to notice the breeze lifting a strand of hair across her cheek.
Close enough to hear her breathing.
The sunset painted everything around them in soft orange light.
She looked up at him.
"What is it?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Mingi swallowed.
He had never been particularly good at hiding what he felt.
Especially not from her.
"I..." He smiled sadly. "I don't want this to end."
Her expression softened.
"I don't want you to leave."
His thumb moved unconsciously, brushing lightly over the curve of her hip through the fabric of her dress.
"I've been trying not to think about tomorrow."
"But..." He laughed quietly at himself. "...it's all I can think about."
Y/N didn't answer.
She simply looked at him.
There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite name.
Or maybe...He finally could.
Neither of them seemed willing to look away.
The space between them somehow grew even smaller.
He watched her glance briefly toward his lips before meeting his eyes again.
His heartbeat became almost painfully loud.
Very slowly he leaned forward.
She met him halfway.
Their lips touched so gently that, for a heartbeat, Mingi wasn't even sure it had happened.
It was soft.
Careful.
Almost questioning.
When they pulled back again, neither of them spoke.
They simply stared at each other.
The ocean continued rolling onto the shore behind them.
The world carried on exactly as before.
Only theirs had quietly shifted.
Y/N's forehead rested lightly against his for a brief moment.
She smiled.
The same smile from the photograph.
His favorite one.
Mingi smiled back without realizing it.
Neither of them knew who moved first.
Maybe they both did.
This time there was no hesitation.
He cupped her cheek gently as she reached for the front of his shirt, closing the small distance between them again.
Their second kiss lingered longer than the first.
Neither of them seemed ready to let the moment end.
Tomorrow no longer felt like something they could pretend wasn't coming. So Mingi leaned in once more, but now with nothing stopping him anymore.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
Y/N had always imagined leaving would feel bigger.
More dramatic, maybe. Like the kind of moment movies loved to stretch out with soft music and slow motion. A suitcase by the door. A final look around the room. A tearful goodbye. The feeling that the whole world had paused for a second just to watch her step into the next chapter of her life.
In reality, leaving was much messier than that.
It was a half-empty coffee cup balanced dangerously on the roof of her car while she tried to fit one last bag into the trunk. It was her jacket sleeve getting caught in the zipper of her suitcase. It was her mother calling from the kitchen window for the third time to ask if she had packed her passport, even though Y/N had checked for it at least six times already.
“Yes, Mom,” Y/N called back, pushing her suitcase down with both hands. “I have my passport.”
“And your documents?”
“Yes.”
“And the copies?”
“Yes.”
“And the Korean paperwork?”
Y/N paused, then lifted her head just enough to look over the open trunk. “Yes Mom I have everything.”
Her mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, looking entirely unconvinced. “You say that now, but when you stand at the airport and something is missing, you will hear my voice in your head.”
Y/N smiled despite the tight feeling in her chest. She had been hearing her mother’s voice in her head for years.
Sometimes it was comforting. Sometimes it was annoying. Most of the time it was both.
“I packed everything and looked after everythinh.” she promised. “Twice.”
Her mother’s eyes softened.
Y/N quickly turned back to the trunk before the emotion on her mother’s face could settle too deeply inside her. She had already cried last night while folding laundry. She had cried again that morning while brushing her teeth, which had felt especially pathetic because there was nothing poetic about sobbing with toothpaste foam in her mouth.
She was excited. She really was.
Moving to Seoul had been her dream for so long that it still didn’t feel completely real. A job offer in the city she had talked about since she was a teenager. A real apartment waiting for her. A new team, a new routine, a new life.
And still, every time she looked back at the house she had grown up in, her stomach twisted. Maybe that was why she had decided to drive first.
Not to Seoul, obviously. Her old car would never survive that kind of journey, even if there was an ocean conveniently removed from the route.
But through Europe. One last road trip before her flight. One last stretch of freedom before she packed herself into an airplane seat and crossed into the life she had been working toward for years.
Three weeks. A loose route. A car full of too many snacks.
And no one to answer to except herself.
It had sounded romantic when she planned it. Now, with her mother watching from the doorway and her father pretending not to be emotional by checking her tire pressure for the second time, it felt terrifying.
Her father straightened beside the front wheel and wiped his hands on a cloth. “Pressure is good,” he said.
“You checked it yesterday.”
“I checked it again today.”
“I noticed.”
He gave her a look. “You will thank me when you do not end up stranded somewhere.”
Y/N laughed softly. “That is very specific.”
“It is a father’s job to imagine specific disasters.”
He walked around to the driver’s side and bent down slightly to look at the tires again, as if one of them might have dramatically changed in the last thirty seconds.
Y/N watched him for a moment.
Then she looked at the car. Her car.
Technically, it was too old for an adventure like this. It had scratches along the passenger door, a stubborn trunk, and a radio that sometimes changed stations when she drove over a bump. The air conditioning had two settings: barely alive and suspiciously loud. One of the cup holders was broken. The passenger window got stuck if someone rolled it down too far.
But it was hers.
It had taken her to university. To her first job interview. To late-night supermarket runs. To friends’ houses, bad dates, good dates, and quiet parking lots where she had sat with music playing because she needed five more minutes before going home.
She knew the sound of its engine better than she knew most people’s voices. Maybe that was why she trusted it more than she should have.
Her mother came outside just as Y/N finally managed to slam the trunk shut. “Send your location every evening,” she said.
“I will.”
“And do not drive too long without breaks.”
“I won’t.”
“And do not pick up strangers.”
Y/N turned slowly. “Mom.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m not going to pick up strangers.”
“Good.”
“I’m twenty-four, not sixteen.”
“And still my child.”
That ended the argument because it always did. Her mother stepped closer and smoothed a hand over Y/N’s hair, fixing something that didn’t need fixing. Y/N let her.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Then her mother pulled her into a hug.
It was tight. Warm. Familiar.
Y/N closed her eyes.
“You will be okay,” her mother whispered in Korean.
That nearly broke her.
“I know,” Y/N whispered back, also in Korean.
Her father joined the hug a second later, pretending it was casual and failing terribly. Y/N laughed into her mother’s shoulder, which made all three of them laugh, and somehow that helped.
The goodbye did not feel like a movie. It felt like her mother pressing snacks into her hands after the car was already packed. It felt like her father telling her to call immediately if anything sounded strange. It felt like waving through the windshield while backing out of the driveway, blinking too quickly because the house blurred behind her.
It felt real.
And maybe that was bigger than a movie.
For the first twenty minutes, Y/N drove in silence. She didn’t trust herself with music yet.
The roads near home were too familiar. The bakery on the corner. The petrol station where she always forgot which pump worked with card. The little park where she had once fallen off her bike and refused to admit she was crying because it hurt. The traffic light that always took too long.
Everything looked exactly the same. She was the only thing leaving.
When she reached the highway, she finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Then she turned on her playlist. The first song filled the car, bright and loud and full of promise.
Y/N smiled. “Okay,” she said to herself. “Adventure.”
The word felt silly spoken aloud, but it also made her chest loosen.She adjusted her sunglasses, checked the mirrors, and pressed her foot a little more firmly on the gas.
The city thinned out behind her. Buildings turned into fields, fields turned into forest, and soon the road stretched wide and open beneath a sky so blue it looked freshly painted.
She had planned the first day carefully, but not too carefully. That was the rule for this trip.
No strict schedule. No rushing. No feeling guilty for changing her mind.
She had a vague destination for the night, a small town near the border with a cheap guesthouse and good reviews. Everything else was optional. Coffee stops, scenic roads, random villages, roadside markets. Whatever looked interesting.
Her notebook sat on the passenger seat, already stuffed with printed reservations, handwritten notes, and a folded map she didn’t really need but liked having anyway. There was something comforting about paper. About being able to trace a route with her finger instead of trusting a glowing screen to know everything.
About an hour into the drive, the nervousness started to change.
It didn’t disappear completely. It became something else.
Excitement, maybe.
The kind that sat low in her stomach and made her feel like she was getting away with something.
She was really doing this. She was driving across countries by herself.
She was going to take photographs of places no one had dragged her to. She was going to eat whatever she wanted for dinner. She was going to sleep in strange little rooms and wake up not knowing exactly what the day would bring.
And after that, Seoul.
The thought made her fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
Seoul. It still sounded impossible.
She had visited before, but visiting was different. Visiting meant return tickets, hotel keys, and careful translations when she didn’t know a word. Living there meant grocery shopping, work emails, awkward introductions, missing home, and figuring out whether the Korean part of her would feel more at home there or strangely more foreign.
That was the thing she had not told many people.
She was excited to move. She was also afraid that Seoul would look at her and immediately know she did not fully belong.
Half Korean. Half something else.
Always enough to be asked questions. Never enough to avoid them.
In Germany, people heard her Korean name and asked where she was really from.In Korea, people heard her accent and asked where she learned the language.
She had spent most of her life balancing between answers.
Maybe Seoul would not fix that. Maybe nothing would.
But the job was good. The timing was right. And somewhere beneath all the fear was a stubborn, hopeful part of her that wanted to try anyway.
A sign announced the next rest stop.
Y/N glanced at the fuel gauge. Still fine.
But she stopped anyway. Because she could.
That was the beauty of traveling alone.
No one sighed when she changed plans. No one asked why she needed coffee already. No one complained when she spent ten minutes choosing between two pastries that looked almost exactly the same.
The rest stop was small but busy. Families stood around open trunks, passing sandwiches and water bottles to children. An older couple sat on a bench sharing fries. A group of motorcyclists laughed near the entrance, helmets tucked under their arms.
Y/N bought an iced coffee, a bottle of water, and the pastry with almonds because it looked slightly more dramatic than the other one.
Back at the car, she leaned against the driver’s side door and took a photo of the sky.
Not because it was special. Because she was there beneath it.
She sent the picture to her mother with a short message.
Still alive. Coffee acquired.
The reply came almost immediately.
Good. Eat something proper too.
Y/N smiled.
She placed the coffee in the working cup holder, the water bottle in the broken one where it leaned slightly to the left, and the pastry on the passenger seat beside her notebook.
Then she continued.
By the time she had driven almost five hundred kilometers, she felt different.
Lighter.
Not completely carefree, but close enough to understand why people chased that feeling.
The highway had grown quieter. Her navigation guided her away from the fastest route and onto a smaller road that cut through wide green hills and sleepy villages. It would add half an hour to the journey, but the view was worth it.
At least, that was what she thought at first.
Then the car made a noise. A faint clicking beneath the steady hum of the engine.
Y/N lowered the music.
For a moment, nothing happened.
She waited, eyes flicking between the road and the dashboard.
Click.
Her lips pressed together. “No,” she said.
The car, naturally, did not answer.
Another click followed. Then another.
Y/N sat up straighter.
“It’s fine,” she told herself. “Old cars make noises. People make noises when they get old too.”
That comparison did not comfort her as much as she hoped.
She checked the dashboard. No warning lights. The temperature gauge looked normal. The fuel gauge was fine. Nothing flashed. Nothing screamed for attention.
So she kept driving.
For another ten minutes, the clicking came and went. Sometimes she convinced herself it had stopped. Then it returned, a little louder than before.
The road curved between fields dotted with yellow flowers. There were no houses nearby, no petrol station, no obvious place to pull over except a narrow patch of gravel ahead.
Y/N slowed down and guided the car onto it. The moment she stopped, the engine shuddered.
Her heart dropped. “No, no, no. Don’t do that.”
The engine gave another rough shake. Then a warning light appeared.
Y/N stared at it. She knew enough about cars to understand that lights were generally bad. She did not know enough to understand which level of bad this particular light represented.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, maybe we just need a small break.”
She turned the engine off.
The sudden silence felt too heavy. Outside, the countryside carried on like nothing had happened. Wind brushed through the tall grass. Somewhere far away, a bird called. A tractor moved slowly across a field in the distance.
Y/N sat there with both hands on the steering wheel.
Then she tried to start the car again. The engine coughed.
Once.
Twice.
Then failed.
She closed her eyes. “Please don’t do this to me.”
She tried again. The car made an ugly grinding sound that made her immediately stop.
For a second, she simply sat there.
Then she laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because the alternative was crying and she had done enough of that for one week.
“You dramatic little piece of metal,” she muttered.
She grabbed her phone and checked the signal.
One bar. Of course.
She got out of the car and immediately felt the heat of the afternoon settle over her shoulders. The road was quiet, with only the occasional car passing too quickly to notice her properly.
Y/N walked to the front, opened the hood, and stared down at the engine.
The engine stared back. At least, that was how it felt.
There were pipes. Metal parts. A cap she was almost certain she should not touch. Something that looked important. Many things that looked expensive.
She pulled up a video online titled What to Do When Your Car Breaks Down, but it buffered after seven seconds.
The first seven seconds told her to stay calm.
Wonderful. Very useful.
She crouched slightly and looked closer, as if the problem might reveal itself out of pity.
It did not.
There was no smoke. No dramatic leaking. No visible fire, which she decided was a positive sign.
“See?” she told the car. “We can work with this.”
A car drove past, stirring her hair into her face. It did not stop.
Y/N wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and accidentally left a faint smudge of grease on her skin from touching something she probably shouldn’t have touched.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from her mother.
What are you eating?
Y/N looked at the open hood. Then at the empty road. Then back at the message.
She typed, Almond pastry.
It was not a lie. Not the whole truth either, but mothers had a way of sensing disaster through punctuation alone, so she kept it short.
Then she opened the roadside assistance app.
The app loaded. And loaded. And loaded.
Y/N lifted the phone higher. One bar became two for a glorious second, then dropped back to one.
“Come on.” She walked a few steps away from the car, holding the phone up like an offering to the sky.
Nothing.
She walked farther. Still nothing.
A little farther. The signal returned.
She froze, afraid breathing too hard might scare it away.
The call connected after three attempts. “Hello, roadside assistance, how can I help you?”
Y/N nearly sagged with relief. “Hi. My car broke down. I’m on a country road, about...” She turned in a slow circle, looking for anything that might help. “About one hundred kilometers from where I started and apparently in the middle of nowhere.”
The woman on the phone remained professionally calm. “Are you in a safe location?”
“I think so. I pulled over onto gravel.”
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Is there smoke or fire?”
“No.”
“Good. Can you share your location through the app?”
“I can try, but the signal is terrible.”
It took several painful minutes. The app crashed once. The call cut out twice. Y/N moved around the side of the road like she was performing some strange ritual for better reception.
Eventually, the woman confirmed the location. “A tow truck can reach you in approximately three hozrs.”
Y/N stared at the fields. “Three hours?”
“I’m sorry. You are quite far from the nearest station.” Of course she was.
Because apparently her adventure had decided to become a character-building exercise on day one.
“Okay,” Y/N said, forcing her voice to remain polite. “Thank you.”
After the call ended, she stood very still for a moment.
Then she walked back to the car, closed the hood, and leaned against the front bumper.
Three hours. She could handle three hours.
She had handled worse than that.
She had survived final exams, job interviews, family gatherings where distant relatives asked deeply personal questions, and one horrifying office Christmas party where her manager had sung karaoke for six minutes straight.
Three hours on a quiet road would not defeat her. Probably.
She opened the passenger door, retrieved her pastry, and took a bite.
It was slightly dry.
She chewed slowly, staring at the landscape. “Well,” she said to no one, “at least the view is nice.”
And it was.Annoyingly, unfairly nice.
The hills rolled gently toward the horizon. The sky had softened from bright blue into a warmer shade, with thin clouds stretching like brushstrokes above the fields. The road curved ahead and disappeared between trees, making it look as if it led somewhere magical instead of, most likely, more inconvenience.
She sat sideways in the driver’s seat with the door open, one foot resting on the gravel, and ate the rest of her pastry while waiting for rescue.
Now and then, a car passed. Most did not slow.
One older man in a blue van honked gently and gave her a questioning thumbs-up. Y/N lifted her phone and nodded to show help was coming. He waved and continued down the road.
The sun moved lower. The air cooled slightly.
Her excitement from earlier had not vanished completely, but it had changed shape. It sat somewhere under the frustration now, stubborn and flickering.
This was not how the trip was supposed to begin. But maybe beginnings were rarely clean. Maybe leaving home, moving countries, starting over, and becoming someone new was never going to begin with perfect weather and perfect roads and a perfectly behaved car.
Maybe the universe had a sense of humor. A very irritating one.
Y/N leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
In two weeks, she would be in Seoul. In two weeks, this road, this broken car, this strange little patch of gravel in the middle of nowhere would already be a story.
Maybe even a funny one. She tried to imagine telling someone about it later.
My car broke down on the first day.
Then what happened?
She opened her eyes. The empty road stretched ahead.
“I have absolutely no idea,” she whispered.
Five hours.
Y/N had officially been stranded for five hours.
At first, she had done everything she could think of to stay occupied.
She had finished her pastry. She had walked a few hundred meters up and down the road, hoping to find better reception. She had counted passing cars. She had reorganized the already perfectly organized trunk. She had even attempted to read a chapter of the novel she had packed for the trip.
None of it had worked.
Every few minutes her eyes drifted back to the empty road.
No tow truck. No flashing yellow lights. Nothing.
The afternoon sun had slowly made its way across the sky, replacing the bright blue above her with warm shades of orange and pink.
It would have been beautiful under different circumstances. Instead, every passing minute tied another knot in her stomach.
She glanced at her phone again.
No missed calls. No messages from roadside assistance.
She sighed before pressing the call button once more.
The line didn't even begin to ring. "No service."
She frowned. "What?"
Y/N climbed out of the car and held her phone toward the sky.
One bar. Then none.
She took another step. Another. Still nothing.
"Oh, come on..."
The screen flickered between one lonely signal bar and complete emptiness.
She tried again anyway. Nothing.
She walked farther down the roadside until she found a small hill overlooking the fields.
One bar returned. Immediately she pressed the number.
The phone started dialing. Then the screen went black.
She stared at her reflection. "No."
She pressed the power button. Nothing. "...No."
A sinking feeling settled deep inside her chest.
She had forgotten to charge it at the last rest stop. The battery warning had popped up earlier while she had been waiting, and she had convinced herself she'd charge it once the tow truck arrived.
The tow truck never had. Now her phone was completely dead.
For a long moment she simply stood there. The silence surrounding her suddenly felt much louder.
She laughed once. A short, exhausted laugh. "Of course."
She slipped the useless phone back into her pocket before making her way back to the car. The first stars were beginning to appear above the fields. The road had become quieter too.
Every now and then another car passed, but they grew farther apart as daylight disappeared.
Y/N leaned against the driver's door and wrapped her arms around herself.
This wasn't dangerous.
She reminded herself of that several times. She was on a public road.
People drove past.
Eventually someone would come. Eventually.
The thought of spending the night inside her car was becoming less ridiculous by the minute.
She looked around.
There wasn't a single building in sight. No gas station. No café. No hotel.
Just fields stretching endlessly in both directions.
Her stomach growled. "Wonderful."
She had exactly one bottle of water left. Half a bag of chips. And two cereal bars she'd packed because her mother insisted every trip required emergency snacks.
Maybe mothers really did know everything. The realization made her smile for exactly three seconds before the smile faded again.
Her parents.
Her mother was probably already wondering why she hadn't sent another picture. Her father would pretend not to worry.
He'd probably tell her mother that the roads were busy and she was simply enjoying herself. Then he'd start worrying too.
Y/N rubbed her face. The frustration she'd managed to keep under control all afternoon finally started catching up with her.
"This trip is going great," she muttered sarcastically. "Absolutely fantastic."
A cool evening breeze brushed through her hair.
She climbed into the driver's seat and left the door open, watching the sky turn darker with every passing minute.
Maybe she'd lock the doors and sleep here. Tomorrow morning someone would surely drive by. Or the tow truck would finally arrive.
A pair of headlights appeared in the distance.
Y/N sat up immediately.
The lights grew closer.
A black SUV.
The vehicle slowed.
Then to her immense relief it pulled onto the gravel shoulder a few meters in front of her.
Y/N let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
The driver's door opened.
Long legs stepped onto the road first.
Then the rest of him.
He was... tall. Ridiculously tall. Even from several meters away she could tell he easily towered over her. He wore a simple white T-shirt beneath a dark overshirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and comfortable jeans that looked more suited for sightseeing than anything fashionable.
A baseball cap shaded part of his face. As he approached, she noticed how broad his shoulders were.
He looked like someone who had never struggled lifting heavy luggage in his life.
He slowed once he was close enough not to startle her.
His smile was hesitant. Almost apologetic.
"Uh..." He pointed toward her car. "You... okay?"
The accent caught her attention first. Korean.
His English was careful, like he was mentally translating every word before saying it.
Y/N blinked in surprise.
Of all the people she had expected to meet on an empty European country road. A Korean man hadn't even made the list.
He gestured awkwardly toward the open hood. "Car... problem?"
For a second she almost answered in English out of habit.
Instead she smiled with visible relief.
"...네. 큰 문제인 것 같아요." (Yeah. I think it's a pretty big problem.)
The man's eyes widened beneath the brim of his cap.
He froze. "...어?" (...Huh?)
Y/N couldn't help laughing. "You can speak Korean," she continued, this time without forcing herself to search for English words.
"I promise I understood you."
For another second he simply stared at her. Then an amused grin slowly spread across his face.
One that transformed him completely.
His shoulders relaxed. "So you were just letting me struggle?"
She raised both hands innocently. "I was curious how long you'd keep trying."
He laughed. It was deep, warm and surprisingly contagious. "I should've started with Korean."
"I think so too."
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking toward the stranded car again.
"So..." He nodded toward it. "What happened?"
Y/N sighed dramatically. "If I knew that, I probably wouldn't still be standing here."
He chuckled. "Fair point."
"I've been waiting for roadside assistance for five hours."
His eyebrows shot up. "Five?"
"And my phone died about five minutes ago."
"...That's rough."
"I've also started considering whether sleeping in my car would permanently ruin my back."
He looked genuinely concerned now. "I hope it doesn't come to that."
"So do I."
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The evening had become surprisingly quiet. Only the chirping of crickets filled the air between them.
The stranger looked from her to the car once more before taking a few slow steps toward the engine.
"Would you mind..." He pointed at the hood. "...if I took a look?"
Y/N smiled despite herself. "Be my guest."
She stepped aside. "I should warn you though."
"Hm?"
"I already looked at it."
He glanced at her. "...And?"
"I learned that I know absolutely nothing about cars."
A laugh escaped him again. "At least you're honest."
She folded her arms with mock pride. "I try."
As he reached for the hood latch, Y/N found herself studying him for the first time.
He couldn't have been much older than she was. Maybe around twenty-five.
His face was soft despite his height, and there was something unusually gentle about the way he carried himself. He didn't seem rushed or annoyed that his evening had been interrupted by a stranded stranger. If anything, he looked genuinely concerned.
He carefully lifted the hood and peered inside. Y/N watched him, hoping for a miracle.
Although, judging by the thoughtful expression on his face, she had a feeling this adventure had only just begun.
The stranger stayed crouched in front of the open engine for several minutes.
Y/N watched him expectantly. At first, she was convinced he knew what he was doing. He leaned closer, moved a few cables aside with careful fingers, frowned thoughtfully and even nodded to himself once or twice.
He certainly looked like someone who could diagnose an engine.
The last rays of sunlight stretched across the empty road, turning the surrounding fields golden. The warmth of the afternoon slowly disappeared with the light, replaced by the cool breeze that always arrived after sunset.
Y/N rubbed her arms. She walked around the car and opened the trunk.
Thankfully, she had packed for every possible weather. Hiking boots, rain jacket, two sweaters and even a thick knitted pullover her mother had insisted she bring.
"You'll thank me one evening," she had said.
Y/N smiled to herself as she pulled it over her head. "You were right, Mom."
The oversized sleeves covered half her hands, instantly making her feel a little warmer.
When she turned back around, the Korean man was still staring into the engine compartment with the same concentrated expression.
"So?" she asked, walking over.
He stayed quiet for another second. Then he slowly closed the hood.
"I have absolutely no idea."
Y/N blinked. "What?"
He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "I don't know anything about cars."
Silence.
"You..." She pointed toward the engine. "...have been looking at it for almost five minutes."
"I know."
"And you don't know anything?"
"Not even a little."
She stared at him. "So you were just pretending?"
"I was hoping something obvious would jump out at me."
For a second they simply looked at each other.
Then Y/N started laughing. Not a polite little chuckle. A real laugh that bent her forward slightly.
He laughed too. "I probably looked very convincing."
"You looked incredibly convincing."
"I even convinced myself for a moment."
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I really thought you knew what you were doing."
"So did I."
Their laughter echoed over the quiet road before slowly fading into comfortable silence. It was strange.
Thirty minutes ago she had been mentally preparing herself to spend the night alone in her car. Now she was laughing with a complete stranger.
He looked down the empty road before glancing back at her. "What are you going to do?"
Y/N sighed.
"I honestly don't know. My phone is dead. I don't know if roadside assistance even knows where I am anymore. And..." She looked at her car. "Sleeping here wasn't exactly part of my vacation plans."
He nodded thoughtfully. Then he hesitated. "I might have an idea."
She looked up.
"I'm staying in a hotel about twenty minutes from here." He pointed toward his SUV. "I could take you there."
Y/N's expression immediately became uncertain.
He noticed. "I know," he said quickly. "That sounds incredibly suspicious."
"A little."
"I can bring you back first thing tomorrow morning."
She stayed quiet.
"I just..." He glanced toward the empty road. "I don't really like the idea of you staying here alone."
Y/N looked around. Now that darkness had settled over the countryside, it suddenly felt much more isolated than before.
The road was almost completely empty. No streetlights. No houses. Nothing except fields and the occasional passing headlights.
Her parents would absolutely lose their minds if they knew where she was.
Still, she didn't know him.
He seemed kind. Funny. Harmless, even. But appearances could be deceiving.
He seemed to understand exactly what she was thinking.
"You don't have to decide immediately," he said softly. "I just wanted to offer."
Y/N studied him for another moment. Something about him felt genuine.
Maybe it was the way he wasn't trying to convince her. Or the fact that he had admitted he knew nothing about cars instead of pretending.
She smiled faintly. "If you turn out to be a serial killer..."
His eyes widened.
"...that would really ruin my vacation."
He burst into laughter. "I promise I'm not."
"I suppose that's exactly what a serial killer would say."
"...You're making this difficult."
"I know."
Another quiet laugh escaped both of them.
Finally, Y/N nodded. "Okay."
"Really?"
"But if you murder me, I'll be very disappointed."
"I'll keep that in mind." He offered her a relieved smile before helping her carry the most important bags into his SUV.
"My suitcase can stay," she said after locking her car. "I'll only need my backpack."
He waited until she had double-checked every door before opening the passenger side for her.
She climbed inside. The car smelled faintly of coffee and clean laundry. A camera rested on the backseat alongside a hiking backpack and a folded map covered in handwritten notes.
"So," she said as they pulled back onto the road. "I guess we're road trip companions now."
He smiled without taking his eyes off the road. "I guess we are."
For a few minutes they simply enjoyed the silence.
It wasn't awkward. More like both of them were trying to figure out who exactly the person beside them was.
Y/N looked out the window. The last orange glow disappeared behind the hills.
Small villages passed by, their windows glowing warmly in the evening.
"So..." she finally said. "I know you speak Korean."
He nodded.
"I know you're bad with cars."
"Very bad."
"And..." She turned toward him. "I don't even know your name."
He looked briefly in her direction before smiling. "I'm Mingi."
"Mingi," she repeated. "I'm Y/N."
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too."
A few seconds passed. "So what do you do, Mingi?"
He was quiet long enough that she wondered if the question had made him uncomfortable.
Finally he answered. "I'm... an Idol."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "I'm in a K-pop group."
Y/N smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"What group?"
"ATEEZ."
She looked at him for a second. He looked completely serious.
Then she laughed. "No, really."
"I am serious."
"You are."
"I promise."
She narrowed her eyes dramatically. "I don't believe you."
"I expected that."
He sounded surprisingly amused. "Most people wouldn't."
"I've never heard someone introduce themselves like that."
He shrugged. "I usually don't."
"So you're joking."
"I'm not."
She folded her arms. "Proof."
He chuckled. "My phone is connected to the car."
He tapped the screen on the dashboard before it displayed a search page.
"Go ahead. Search my name. Song Mingi."
Y/N hesitated.
Then, mostly to humor him, she typed: Song Mingi.
Within seconds Photos filled the screen.
Concert stages. Magazine shoots. Interviews. Fan edits. Millions of search results.
Her eyebrows slowly climbed higher. "...Oh."
She clicked another result.
There he was again.
On stage. Holding a microphone. Surrounded by thousands of fans.
She looked back at him. Then back at the screen. Then at him again.
"You weren't joking."
"I wasn't."
"...You're actually famous."
"I guess."
She blinked several more times. "Huh."
That wasn't exactly the reaction Mingi had expected.
"You don't know us?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I've been so busy finishing university and applying for jobs that I barely listened to anything except whatever Spotify recommended."
He smiled. "Honestly? I kind of like that."
Y/N leaned back in her seat. "So..."
She glanced at another photo of him performing. "Why are you driving through Europe alone if you're... this?"
He let out a slow breath. "I needed some time away."
"From work?"
"From everything." His smile became smaller. "I've been on hiatus."
She turned toward him fully. "You don't have to tell me if it's personal."
He appreciated that. "It's okay. I've spent years running from one schedule to the next. Sometimes I forgot who I was when nobody expected anything from me."
He kept his eyes on the road. "So I decided to disappear for a little while. No managers. No cameras. No expectations. Just..." He smiled softly. "...Mingi."
Y/N nodded slowly. "I think I understand."
He looked at her. "You do?"
She smiled faintly. "Not exactly. But maybe a little."
She looked out at the passing countryside. "In two weeks I'm moving to Seoul."
His eyebrows lifted. "Really?"
She nodded. "I just accepted my first full-time job there."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"I was excited. I still am."
"But..." She laughed quietly. "I realized I'd spent years studying, working and planning for the future. I never really stopped to do something just because I wanted to."
"So I packed my car..." She pointed behind them. "...and decided to drive across Europe before my life becomes very serious."
Mingi smiled. "And then your car broke down."
"Exactly."
"I've only made it a five hundred kilometers."
He laughed. "Not exactly the adventurous start you imagined."
"No." She smiled anyway.
"But..." She glanced at him. "I didn't exactly imagine meeting a K-pop idol either."
About twenty minutes later they arrived at a small countryside hotel tucked between rolling hills.
Warm lights spilled from the windows onto the gravel parking lot.
Y/N let out a relieved sigh. "A bed."
"Hopefully."
They walked inside together. The receptionist greeted them with a polite smile before checking the reservations on the computer.
A minute later her expression changed.
"I'm terribly sorry. There was a plumbing issue this afternoon. Our last available room was given to another guest."
Y/N's heart sank. "So you don't have any rooms left?"
The receptionist shook her head apologetically. "I'm afraid not."
Y/N closed her eyes for a second.
Of course. Why would today suddenly become easy?
Beside her, Mingi looked thoughtful.
Then he cleared his throat. "I have a room."
She looked at him.
"It's... not huge. But it has a sofa."
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You can take the bed if you want."
She immediately shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"Then..." He smiled sheepishly. "You can take the sofa."
Y/N looked between him and the receptionist. Then back at him.
"This is probably the strangest first day of a vacation anyone has ever had."
Mingi laughed quietly. "I was thinking exactly the same thing."
For the first time since arriving in Europe, Mingi found himself wondering if he had completely lost his mind. He lay on one of the two beds, staring at the ceiling while the bathroom door remained closed.
The shower was running. Steam curled beneath the door. And somewhere in the room, Y/N’s phone was charging beside the television.
He sighed. „What am I doing…“
Helping people wasn’t unusual. Stopping for someone whose car had broken down wasn’t unusual either.
But offering a complete stranger a ride…
Bringing her to his hotel…
Telling her his real name…
Even telling her he was an idol…
That wasn’t like him. Normally he was careful. Painfully careful.
Years in the industry had taught him to think twice before trusting anyone. Every conversation had the potential to end up online. Every stranger could recognize him five minutes later. Every small mistake could become tomorrow’s headline.
Yet somehow…
Standing on that empty country road, watching her laugh after he admitted he knew absolutely nothing about cars…
None of those thoughts had crossed his mind. Instead he’d thought about one thing. She had genuinely been preparing to spend the night alone in her broken-down car.
The idea still made him uncomfortable.
He grabbed the remote and switched on the television. Channel after channel flashed by.
Local news. A cooking competition. Football. Another cooking competition.
„…Nothing.“ He continued pressing buttons until colorful animation suddenly filled the screen.
His eyebrows lifted. „Spy x Family?“
The episode had English subtitles. Good enough.
He smiled to himself. „Guess that’s staying on.“
Before Anya could finish introducing herself, his phone buzzed.
Then again. Then six more times in rapid succession.
Mingi didn’t even have to look.
The group chat. He opened it anyway.
Hongjoong: You alive?
Wooyoung: Did you finally get lost??
San: He definitely got lost.
Yeosang: I give him another hour before he accidentally ends up in another country.
Mingi laughed quietly. He quickly typed.
Mingi: Actually… something happened.
Almost immediately the typing indicators appeared.
Every single member.
Yunho: ???
Jongho: What happened?
Hongjoong: Everything okay?
Mingi scratched the back of his neck.
How exactly was he supposed to explain this?
Mingi: I found someone stranded on the side of the road.
Silence. Three seconds later his phone exploded.
Wooyoung: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FOUND SOMEONE
San: …Please elaborate.
Hongjoong: You stopped?
Yeosang: You actually stopped??
Mingi frowned.
Mingi: Of course I stopped. Her car broke down. She’d been waiting three hours for roadside assistance. Her phone died. There was nobody around.
Another pause.
Hongjoong: Okay. Fair.
Yunho: Makes sense.
Wooyoung: That’s exactly what you’d do.
Mingi smiled.
See? They understood.
Then another message appeared.
Jongho: …Where is she now?
Mingi hesitated.
Then typed.
Mingi: At the hotel.
The chat went silent again.
Completely silent.
He could practically hear the collective sigh through the screen.
Hongjoong: Please tell me she’s in her own room.
Mingi stared at the message.
Then sighed.
Mingi: Long story. Hotel was fully booked. There are two beds.
This time the replies came much faster.
San: Mingi.
Yeosang: Mingi…
Wooyoung: Have you completely lost your survival instincts?
Hongjoong: Does she know who you are?
Mingi looked toward the closed bathroom door.
Steam still drifted underneath it.
He typed back.
Mingi: Yeah. I told her.
The chat practically exploded.
Wooyoung: YOU WHAT???
San: You told a stranger??
Hongjoong: Mingi…
Jongho: That’s unlike you.
Yunho: Damn.
Seonghwa: 🤦♂️
He knew. It was unlike him. Very unlike him.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he answered.
Mingi: She didn’t believe me. I had to prove it.
Yeosang: That’s somehow even funnier.
Despite himself, Mingi laughed.
Then another message appeared from Hongjoong.
Hongjoong: Just be careful. You don’t know her. She could leak where you are. Take photos. Tell people. Or worse.
Mingi leaned back against the headboard.
He understood the concern. Really, he did.
If the roles were reversed, he’d probably be sending the same messages.
He thought about Y/N standing beside her broken car with grease on her cheek, joking that she’d be „very disappointed“ if he turned out to be a serial killer.
He smiled.
Mingi: I know. But I honestly think she’s nice. She was genuinely planning to sleep in her car. I couldn’t just leave her there.
Several seconds passed before Hongjoong finally replied.
Hongjoong: Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have either.
Yunho: Just text us tomorrow morning so we know you’re alive.
Wooyoung: And if she steals your car I’m never letting you forget it.
Mingi shook his head, smiling as he locked his phone.
He placed it on the bedside table and looked back at the television.
Anya was already causing complete chaos.
„Sorry,“ he murmured to the screen. „I missed half the episode.“
He settled deeper into the pillows. The room was quiet now except for the television and the steady sound of the shower.
It felt… Oddly peaceful.
A little while later, the bathroom door opened.
Mingi glanced over instinctively. Y/N stepped out wearing an oversized sweatshirt and comfortable sweatpants, her hair still damp from the shower. She smiled politely before picking up her phone from the charger.
„It finally turned back on,“ she said.
„Good.“
„I should probably call my parents before they report me missing.“
He chuckled. „That’s probably a good idea.“
She nodded and walked toward the window to give him a little privacy. A moment later she began speaking rapidly into the phone.
Not Korean. Not English either.
The language flowed quickly, full of sounds he couldn’t place.
Whoever answered sounded… panicked. Even without understanding the words, he could hear it. An older woman’s voice grew louder and louder through the speaker.
Y/N winced. „I know… I know…“
She listened for another few seconds before sighing deeply.
Then, perhaps without even thinking about it, she switched into Korean. „Mom, calm down.“
Mingi’s attention immediately shifted from the television.
„I know how this sounds. No, I’m not alone on the road anymore…No.“
She rubbed her forehead. „I’m at a hotel.“
Another loud response erupted from the phone. „Yes… with the man who stopped to help me.“
Mingi froze. Oh no.
He could practically hear her mother’s blood pressure rising through the speaker.
„No, Mom….I’m not sharing a bed with him…There are two beds.“
Another barrage followed.
Y/N looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
„I know he’s a stranger.“
„I didn’t have another option.“
„I wasn’t going to sleep in my car.“
She paused.
„…No, he hasn’t been weird.“
Another pause.
„…No.“
„…Mom.“
„…Mom.“
Y/N slowly turned toward Mingi with an expression that mixed embarrassment with apology.
„My mother…“ She covered the microphone with one hand. „…would like to speak with you.“
Mingi stared at her. „…Me?“
She gave him an awkward smile. „I’m so, so sorry.“
For the first time all evening, Mingi suddenly found the prospect of talking to an extremely worried mother far more intimidating than performing in front of fifty thousand people.
Mingi blinked at Y/N for a second before a small smile spread across his face.
„It’s okay,“ he said quietly.
„Really?“
He nodded. „My mom would’ve reacted the exact same way.“
Y/N let out a relieved sigh. „I am so sorry.“
Before he could answer, another loud voice echoed from the phone.
Even though he couldn’t understand the first sentence, he immediately guessed who was speaking.
Y/N’s mother sounded like she was only one step away from booking the next flight.
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.
„Mom…“
Another rapid sentence followed.
Y/N’s eyes widened.
„…You want what?“
She stared at the phone before slowly turning it toward herself.
„You want me to turn on the camera?“
The answer came immediately.
Y/N sighed dramatically.
„…She says she wants to see your face.“
Mingi gave a nervous laugh. „…That’s fair.“
Y/N wasn’t finished listening.
A second later she buried her face in one hand.
„Oh my god…“
„What?“
„She said she wants to know what you look like…“ Y/N paused, clearly trying not to laugh. „…so if you decide to murder me, she’ll know exactly who to hunt down.“
Mingi swallowed.
„…That’s…“ He rubbed the back of his neck. „…a very protective mother.“
„That’s one way to put it.“
He couldn’t even blame her.
If his own daughter had called from another country to say she was spending the night in a hotel after being rescued by a complete stranger, he probably would’ve reacted the same way.
Maybe worse.
He smiled reassuringly. „It’s okay.“
Y/N searched his face for another moment. „You don’t mind?“
„Not at all.“
She switched the camera on before handing him the phone.
„Good luck.“
He accepted it with both hands.
The screen immediately filled with the image of two people squeezed together in front of another phone.
A woman and a man. Both looked equally worried.
Y/N clearly resembled her mother.
Only now her mother’s smile was nowhere to be found.
Instead she stared intensely at Mingi through the camera.
He bowed his head politely. „Hello.“
For several seconds… Nothing happened.
Y/N’s mother simply stared.
Then her expression changed completely.
Her eyes widened.
She blinked.
Then she looked somewhere off-screen. „…Y/N.“
Mingi heard Y/N laugh behind him. „What?“
„You forgot to mention…“ Another pause. „…that the stranger is handsome.“
Y/N groaned so loudly Mingi almost laughed. „Mom!“
„What? It’s true!“
Mingi felt warmth creep into his cheeks.
„I…“ he started awkwardly. „Thank you?“
Y/N covered her face. „I am never living this down.“
Her father chuckled quietly somewhere beside her mother. „Your mother says whatever comes into her head.“
„I noticed.“
That finally broke the tension.
Even Y/N’s mother smiled.
The conversation slowly shifted.
Instead of suspicious questions, she started asking practical ones.
Where had they met?
How long had Y/N been stranded?
Was she eating enough?
Had she locked her car?
Mingi answered patiently. He explained how he’d found Y/N waiting beside the road, how she’d already been stranded for hours, and that she had been fully prepared to sleep in her car before he happened to drive by.
Her mother visibly softened. „You really helped her?“
„Of course. There wasn’t anyone else around.“
She nodded slowly. „I… appreciate that.“
He smiled. „I’m also planning to take her back first thing tomorrow. The tow truck or the mechanic should know more by then. If they can’t fix the car, we’ll figure something else out.“
Y/N’s father finally spoke. „Thank you.“
His voice was calm, but Mingi could hear the relief behind it.
„She’s very stubborn.“
„I am not,“ Y/N protested from somewhere behind him.
„You drove across Europe alone,“ her father replied. „You are.“
Mingi laughed.
„I’ve only known her a few hours…“ He glanced over his shoulder at Y/N. „…but I think you might be right.“
She gasped dramatically. „Wow. Unbelievable. My own rescue turns against me.“
Her parents laughed.
For the first time since answering the phone, Y/N’s mother looked genuinely relaxed.
„Please take care of each other.“
„We will,“ Mingi answered.
After another round of goodbyes, the call finally ended.
The room fell quiet.
Y/N stared at him for one long second.
Then they both burst into laughter. „I cannot believe she said that.“
Mingi handed her phone back. „I wasn’t expecting that either.“
„I was convinced she’d threaten you again.“
Y/N dropped onto the edge of the other bed, still laughing.
„I’m so embarrassed.“
„You don’t have to be.“
„I absolutely do. My mother basically flirted with the guy who rescued me.“
„I think she was just relieved.“
Y/N groaned into a pillow. „I’ll never hear the end of this.“
Mingi picked up the remote again.
„Well…“ He nodded toward the television. „At least we have Anya to distract us.“
Y/N looked at the screen. „Oh. I’ve heard of this.“
„You have?“
„I think so. I’ve never actually watched anime.“
Mingi slowly turned his head toward her. „…What?“
She blinked. „What?“
„You’ve…“ He sat up straighter. „…never watched anime?“
She shook her head. „Not really.“
He stared at her in exaggerated disbelief. „That’s tragic.“
She laughed. „Tragic?“
„You’ve been missing out for years.“
„I don’t know.“
„I’ve always been more of a book person.“
He pointed accusingly at the television.
„This is art.“
She folded her arms. „You’re taking this very personally.“
„I am.“
She smiled. „Fine. Convince me.“
That was all the invitation he needed.
For the next twenty minutes, Mingi found himself enthusiastically explaining every character.
„That’s Loid.“
„He pretends to be a psychiatrist.“
„But he’s actually a spy.“
„And that’s Yor.“
„She works at city hall.“
„But she’s secretly an assassin.“
Y/N raised an eyebrow. „Seems healthy.“
„It gets better.“
„And Anya?“
„She’s…“ He smiled despite himself. „…the best child ever written.“
By the end of the episode, Y/N had laughed far more than she’d expected.
„Okay,“ she admitted. „I get it.“
„I told you.“
„She’s adorable. I also want whatever confidence she has.“
Mingi grinned triumphantly. „See?“
„Anime.“ She rolled her eyes with a smile. „One point for you.“
The second episode had barely started when he noticed the room had gone quiet.
Much quieter than before.
He looked over.
Y/N was curled up beneath the hotel blanket, her head resting against the pillow.
Her breathing had slowed.
Somewhere between Anya’s latest adventure and one of his unnecessarily long explanations, she’d fallen asleep.
He smiled to himself.
She must have been exhausted. Between the long drive, the broken-down car and everything else that had happened today, he honestly wasn’t surprised.
Carefully, so quietly he barely made a sound, he stood up.
A folded blanket rested inside the wardrobe.
He shook it open and gently draped it over her shoulders.
She shifted slightly but didn’t wake.
Her phone still lay beside her with barely any battery left.
He unplugged the television remote charger and connected her phone instead.
The screen lit up. Three percent.
He placed it carefully on the bedside table within her reach.
For a second he simply looked at her sleeping peacefully.
This morning they hadn’t known each other existed.
Now she’d trusted him enough to accept his help.
It felt… strange. In a good way.
He quietly switched off the bedside lamp on her side of the room, leaving only the small reading light above the sofa.
Then he grabbed the spare pillow and blanket, stretched out on the sofa and looked up at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, they would hopefully get her car fixed.
Then, most likely, they’d go their separate ways.
At least…That was what he’d been telling himself ever since he’d stopped on that empty road.
Mingi had expected to wake up feeling awkward. Instead, it almost felt... normal.
He and Y/N had grabbed coffee from the hotel's breakfast room before sunrise, loaded her backpack back into his SUV and driven the twenty minutes to where her little car was still waiting faithfully at the side of the road.
The morning air was cool, the fields still covered by a thin layer of mist.
Y/N stood beside her car with a paper coffee cup in one hand, staring at it as if she could somehow convince it to start through sheer determination.
"It looks innocent," she muttered.
Mingi smiled. "It does."
"It's lying."
"It probably is."
She looked over at him. "If it starts now after all this drama, I'm selling it out of spite."
He laughed. "I don't think that's how spite works."
"It does today."
A few minutes later, a white van with the roadside assistance logo finally appeared around the bend.
Y/N folded her arms. "Only..." She looked at her watch. "...about sixteen hours late."
"Better late than never?"
She gave him a look. "I'm choosing to ignore that."
The mechanic, a man in his late fifties with gray hair peeking out from beneath his cap, greeted them with a cheerful smile.
"You must be the stranded tourist."
"That's me."
"And this the patient?"
He patted the hood of the little car affectionately.
Y/N nodded. "I was hoping you'd have better news today."
"We'll see."
He plugged a diagnostic device into the car before lifting the hood.
Unlike Mingi yesterday, this man actually looked like he knew what he was doing.
He frowned. Pressed a few buttons. Listened to the engine while attempting to start it. Walked around the car once.
Then sighed. It wasn't the kind of sigh anyone wanted to hear.
Y/N noticed it immediately. "...That's a bad sigh."
"It is." The mechanic closed the hood carefully. "I'm afraid your engine has suffered quite a bit."
"What does 'quite a bit' mean?"
"It means..." He searched for the gentlest wording. "...that repairing it would probably cost more than the car is worth."
Y/N stared at him. "I'm sorry?"
"It's an older vehicle."
"I know."
"And judging by the damage..." He scratched his chin. "If this were my car..."
He paused. "I'd let it retire."
Silence.
Mingi glanced toward Y/N.
She hadn't said anything. She was simply looking at her little white car.
The same car she'd talked about yesterday with so much affection.
The one that had taken her through university, first jobs and countless memories.
The mechanic spoke again. "I'm sorry."
"It happens."
"It just happened at unfortunate timing."
Y/N forced a tiny smile. "Yeah. You could say that."
The mechanic gave her a sympathetic nod before leaving them alone to think.
For several long moments neither of them spoke.
Birds chirped somewhere in the nearby trees.
Cars occasionally passed on the road.
Life continued exactly as before.
Only Y/N's plans had changed completely.
She reached into her pocket and slowly unlocked the driver's door.
Without a word she began taking things out.
Mingi quietly walked over.
"You don't have to carry everything."
"I know."
"Then let me help."
She nodded without looking at him.
Together they loaded the boxes and bags into the back of his SUV.
She was unusually quiet.
The jokes she'd made yesterday were gone.
Once the trunk was finally closed, she leaned against it and stared down at her phone.
"I'm going to try renting another car."
"Good idea."
She found a rental company nearby and put the call on speaker.
Mingi busied himself reorganizing the luggage, trying to give her as much privacy as possible.
"Good morning," the woman on the line greeted politely. "I was wondering if you have any rental cars available."
A pause.
Y/N's shoulders slowly sank.
"I don't care what size." Another pause. "Automatic, manual... honestly anything."
She closed her eyes. "I understand. Thank you anyway."
The call ended.
She stayed still for a few seconds before slipping her phone back into her pocket.
"They're fully booked."
Mingi frowned. "Nothing?"
"Not a single car."
She let out a quiet laugh. It wasn't a happy one.
"I think the universe is trying to tell me something."
"What?"
"I don't know." She looked out over the fields. "Maybe that adventures aren't for me."
He didn't answer immediately.
She continued before he had the chance.
"I'll probably have to go home."
She kicked a small stone across the gravel.
"I'll scrap the car. Cancel the rest of the trip. Spend the next weeks packing boxes instead."
A sad smile appeared on her face. "I really wanted this."
Mingi looked at her.
At the disappointment she was trying so hard to hide.
Yesterday she'd spoken with so much excitement about seeing tiny villages, hiking trails, coastlines and old castles before starting her first job.
Now...
It was disappearing right in front of her.
"It wasn't just a vacation," she said quietly.
"It was..." She searched for the right words. "My goodbye. To this part of my life."
She laughed softly.b"I know that sounds dramatic."
"It doesn't."
She looked at him. "I wanted one adventure before adulthood really started."
She shrugged. "Guess that dream lasted about a hundred kilometers."
Something tightened in Mingi's chest.
He understood that feeling better than she probably realized.
He looked toward his own SUV.
Then back at the road stretching into the distance.
Then at the folded map still lying on her passenger seat.
An idea slowly formed.
Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
Yet somehow...It didn't seem impossible.
"You know..." Y/N looked at him. "I actually came here for something similar."
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I've been traveling for almost a month."
"A month?"
He nodded. "I wanted silence. No schedules. No cameras. No people constantly expecting something from me."
He smiled to himself. "And I found it."
She waited.
"But..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...it turns out life can become a little too quiet."
Y/N frowned slightly. "What are you saying?"
He took a slow breath.
The sentence sounded absurd before he'd even said it.
"So..." He laughed awkwardly. "...hear me out before you say no."
"I don't like where this is going."
"Yesterday you said your dream was driving across Europe."
"I did."
"And..." He pointed between the two of them. "...I'm already driving across Europe."
She blinked.
He continued before he lost his nerve.
"What if... We just..." He laughed again. "...did the road trip together?"
Y/N simply stared at him.
"I'm serious."
"I noticed."
"You already planned the route."
"I have a car."
"You wanted an adventure."
"I wanted one too." He shrugged. "And honestly..."
He smiled sheepishly. "...it's been nice having someone to talk to."
She looked almost completely speechless. "You're asking a complete stranger to spend the next..." She checked her notebook. "...ten days traveling with you?"
"I guess I am."
"That's insane."
"It is."
She laughed. "A little."
"Definitely."
She crossed her arms. "I could still be a serial killer."
"You've had plenty of opportunities."
"You could be one."
"I suppose."
Another silence settled between them.
Y/N looked down at her notebook.
Then at the endless road ahead.
Then at his SUV.
He didn't interrupt her thoughts.
If she said no, he'd understand.
Honestly... He expected her to.
She had every reason to.
Several minutes passed before she finally spoke.
"If we do this..."
He looked up immediately.
"...we split fuel."
"Deal."
"I pay for my own hotels."
"Deal."
"And..." She smiled for the first time that morning. "...if you start singing your own songs in the car, I'm making you walk."
Mingi laughed so loudly that even the mechanic glanced over from his van.
"I think I can live with those rules."
Y/N looked at the empty road stretching toward the horizon.
The disappointment she'd carried only minutes ago hadn't disappeared.
But something new had settled beside it.
Curiosity. Maybe even excitement.
She slowly held out her hand. "Road trip?"
Mingi looked at it for only a second before shaking it.
"Road trip."
Neither of them realized that the decision they had just made would become the story they would tell for the rest of their lives.
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summary: texts with boyfriend ateez with reader who is chronically ill and disabled
warnings: mentions of various symptoms (dislocation, pain, brain fog, seizure, fainting, dystonia, tremors), mention of ableism in wooyoungs
authors notes: symptoms based off my own experiences! this is entirely self-indulgent bc i dont see enough chronic illness/disability representation around !!!
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - Family Dinner
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader
Summary: A team of scattered rebels meet up for a family dinner in this first chapter of the story of the Black Pirates
WC: 5.2K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Slight angst, fluff, slight crack
Warning(s): Dystopian reality, anxiety, descriptions of members being in life-threatening situations, rebellion, food, sleeping in uncomfortable areas, injuries, mentions of illegal activities
Masterlist
Please let me know if I forgot something!
A/N: This is my first one-shot in my long-form series for ATEEZ, and I'm really excited to see what you think of this. I've got so much planned and I have no idea when it'll end, but I do know that it will be GLORIOUS. This first chapter is mainly world-building.
There was a tangible excitement that filled the air of the warehouse. Its two full-time occupants could feel it, and their own excitement filled their hearts until it bubbled over, continuing to flood the large building until it positively thrummed with happiness. It was felt with each flick of every light switch, every once dark room illuminated with a buzzing light. This much power was scarce to come by, so they took advantage of it rarely. But those times were looked forward to.
It was heard in the eager footfalls of the one who roamed the halls, entering various rooms and flicking on lights to greet their occupants. The man whose footsteps echoed around the empty warehouse was the leader of the group that lived in it, “Captain” Kim Hongjoong. He was consistently underestimated by the Strictland drones who challenged him because of his relatively small stature and gentle demeanor, but there was a fierceness in his eyes and a protectiveness inside him that curled his lips in an insane smile every time he was met with the government who aimed to wipe his group off the face of the Earth. His title wasn’t the “Pirate King” of the Black Pirates for no reason; He was to be respected and feared, for inside this man was a ferocious fighter and a strong leader. But that ferocity was nowhere to be found as the gentle form of the captain roamed the halls.
Hongjoong sighed as he flicked the light switch of the bedroom he was in, taking in the sight of the room. It was one of the more personal ones, bed messy and papers and personal items scattered around the room. He huffed out a small laugh at the mess. He knew Seonghwa, his fellow team member and “housemate”, enjoyed tidiness as a comfort, and it probably pained him to leave the room in its messy state. But this area was too personal to be trifled with, and Seonghwa respected the knowledge that the occupant wouldn’t take kindly to his meddling if he chose to go in to organize. Hongjoong looked forward to the scolding that Seonghwa would give Wooyoung when he came home, needing some entertainment to disrupt the repetitiveness of his daily life.
“One more room to go.” Hongjoong whispered to himself. He took one last look at the room and left it waiting for the occupant to return to it.
The last room on his checklist didn’t have much electricity running through it. It was the last one they fixed up for their last member who joined. He remembered Yunho grimacing apologetically as he explained he couldn’t rig the room with full ceiling lights, but the outlets provided plenty of room for lamps to be scavenged and placed. Knowing this, Hongjoong stepped inside, flicked his small flashlight around the dusty room, and walked carefully to the desk resting on the wall next to the bed. His hand grasped around for a bit before yanking the cord of the old lamp that took its home on the desk, flooding the room with light.
Hongjoong couldn’t deny the thrill of happiness that ran down his spine at this task being completed.
Despite seeing his members on separate occasions throughout the weeks, he missed having them all with him at once. Missed the chaos and laughter that came with having his whole team with him, filling the cold and dark warehouse with light and life. He always looked forward to these nights, these so-called “family dinners.” The nights where his team members all gathered under one roof to share meals and information, patch each other up and relish in their company. This was a hard and lonely life, and nights like these made it worth living.
It was like a holiday to him, and he eagerly ran through the large warehouse lighting up each and every bedroom in anticipation for his family to come home.
He left the room, footsteps quickening in anticipation as he made his way to the common area, where he and the team had fashioned a makeshift living room, dining room, and kitchen. The dining room was quite sparse, several plastic tables shoved together and whatever chairs they could find decorating it. Some had bent legs that wobbled with the shifting weight of the wiggling occupant, some were old barstools whose shine had been weathered away and the bars where feet would rest were broken. But each person had a chair and a place at the table.
The common area around the table and living room were decorated with old fairy lights with half the strings dark, old lamps, bean bag chairs with the stuffing falling out, old couches with the cushions burst. It was ratty and obviously scavenged from dumpsters… But when each ratty piece of furniture had an occupant or two, it was home. There had been many a night they had all slept in this room, pushing beanbags and couches and chairs together and curling up with each other under blankets.
Along the wall underneath the windows above ground was a makeshift kitchen. There were several old fridges that had been scavenged that lined the wall, but since the majority of the team had gone off for their own safety, only one was plugged in, holding enough foodstuffs for an army. Normally, it was just enough for up to four people, but Seonghwa and Hongjoong stocked up enough food for a small army in anticipation for the seven other members joining them tonight. There were two large cooking apparatuses, one with a functioning oven, the other with a working stove, that rested bunched somewhere in the middle, and makeshift counters and shelves lined the walls beside them. In this kitchen, he met Seonghwa, who was busily preparing the food.
Seongwha was a tall, lithe man, with long dark hair that could brush against his chin. He had tied it up in a small knot on the back of his head, freeing his sharp eyes as they flitted about the kitchen. His hands were busy, cutting vegetables and preparing meat.
“All the lights in the rooms are on.” Hongjoong informed him.
Seonghwa nodded and smiled. “Good. Can you help me grab some things?”
“Sure.”
While Seonghwa busied himself with preparing the food, Hongjoong brought out a selection of pots and pans and set about making sure they were clean and ready for food to be prepared in them.
As they worked side by side, a large clatter followed by a bang echoed through the warehouse. The two shared a look before Hongjoong abandoned his work, stalking forward like a panther. It always fascinated Seonghwa to see his leader immediately switch from a gentle man to a dangerous one. Before Hongjoong could go too far, though, a joyous voice rang through the warehouse with ease.
“GUUUYYYYYS? ANYBODY HERE?”
All the tenseness left Hongjoong’s body, and he shared an exasperated smile with Seonghwa.
“We’re over here, Wooyoung!” Hongjoong shouted back. Immediately his words were met with scrambling feet and the squabbles of two voices until the two newcomers popped up in Hongjoong’s field of vision.
Jung Wooyoung was a man of similar height to Hongjoong, with sharp, fox-like features. His long, dark hair was tied back in a style similar to Seonghwa, but suited him to his aesthetic. Baggy pants and a buttoned shirt with a floral pattern adorned his body, hiding clear strength. However, the way his arm curled around the large radio on his shoulder betrayed the strength the man held. He moved with a feline-like grace, a confident swagger swaying his hips and a smile curled his lips. There was no denying the mischief and love in his eyes.
Choi San was very visibly strong, unlike his partner in crime. The man was several inches taller and much bulkier, thick muscles wrapped around him. San held sharp cheekbones littered with bruises and catlike eyes, but his full smile betrayed the warm and kind heart inside him. He was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, knuckles wrapped up. When Hongjoong paid proper attention to him, he could see the faint pain in San’s gait and the small swell of San’s lip.
San, a fighter and Wooyoung, his best friend and “manager,” two of the younger members of the group.
Hongjoong greeted the two, allowing Wooyoung to place the radio to the side and wrap him in a tight hug, arms wrapping around him in a manner akin to an octopus. After a few seconds, San shooed him away so he could get his own share of Captain cuddles. San was decidedly gentler, and Hongjoong held him loosely, mindful of the injuries he seemed to be hiding. While Hongjoong fussed over San, Seonghwa shooed Wooyoung away from the food he was preparing before wrapping him in a tight hug.
“How have you guys been?” Seongwha fussed over them, glancing over them briefly. “San, are you hurt?”
San grimaced at being caught. “Yeah, but it’s fine. A guy threw a harder punch than I anticipated a few days ago, he almost cost me the match. We made enough from that fight that Woo’s been making me take it easy the past few days.”
“Make sure you rest and take care of yourself.” Hongjoong reminded him. “We need you healthy and alive.”
“Sure, Captain.” San nodded meekly. He left Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, starting his hunt for something to dull the pain of his injury. Hongjoong turned back to Wooyoung flittering around Seonghwa as he worked, filling him in with fun stories of their adventures since the last time they had met up. Seonghwa listened patiently, smiling softly and soaking up the presence in his kitchen.
The chattering continued as another slam of the big door echoed, and two more members joined the noise.
“Hongjoong, look who I just found!”
The owner of the voice was a certain Jeong Yunho, who was arm in arm with his best friend, Song Mingi.
The two were the tallest members, lovingly nicknamed “the Twin Towers.” Yunho was tall and lithe, but more muscular than Seonghwa, with a kind face and soft eyes. He carried himself with a grace that told the onlooker that he knew how large he was and knew how to handle it. Unlike his best friend, Mingi, who often clambered clumsily around like a Great Dane thinking he was a lap dog.
Mingi had short cropped blonde hair and thick lips, a prominent Adam's Apple, and a boyish smile that crinkled his whole face in his joy. His deep voice rang out in laughter, playfully socking his best friend in the waist as the other’s large hands mussed playfully in Mingi’s hair. They had been inseparable since joining the group. Where one was, you could almost always find the other. In fact, it was these two that were almost always present in this warehouse, second only to Hongjoong and Seonghwa themselves. They traded off guard duty when they weren’t out in the city fighting for information. Their signature rifle was slung across Mingi’s back.
Mingi had been gone for a week gathering information about the Strictland government on the farther reaches of the city. He usually traveled by foot, which is why it took so long. Even if it had been a week, it was a week too long for this pair of best friends.
“Mingi, back alive I see.” Hongjoong grinned. “How was the outer city?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Mingi sighed out, exhausted from his endeavors. “What I need is some food.”
“You’re going to have to wait for the rest of the group.” Seonghwa broke in.
Mingi groaned, but he couldn’t disobey the eldest member, so he went off with Yunho to swap supplies and clean their joint preferred weapon.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung had busied himself with turning on the radio, getting it plugged in and tuned to play. It was a temperamental thing, a leftover from a bygone era, with its radio function completely busted. That wasn’t too much of a loss, there wasn’t much to listen to. Only a single news channel spewing propaganda about the “paradise” that was this place when they gave up their emotions and let the government make all the decisions for their well-being. It got depressing after a while to listen to the constant calls for their arrests and consequent deaths, so one day the radio antenna had mysteriously disappeared. None of them fessed up to the vandalism, but the cold, scared look in the eyes of their youngest told them everything they needed to know.
Instead, they used it for the CD function.
Since it was from a time before Strictland, before the Android guardians and Prestige Academy and emotion-suppressing chips, before art and music and anything that had made life worth living had been erased, it had the function to play music CD’s. Through scavenging, they found several old discs that could still be played, and it was one of those discs that Wooyoung loaded into the radio. A jaunty tune started playing out, and Hongjoong’s head nodded slightly to the beat, body itching to move with the music.
Before he could, a separate door opened and closed, and a solo pair of boots clanged against the floor.
“Started the party without me?”
Kang Yeosang stood in the doorway at the other end of the warehouse, leading to a garage of sorts. At least, that’s where they kept their tools and the tech they needed to complete their missions. They usually parked their vehicles in there when they needed repairs.
Yeosang was a smaller, more dainty man with an almost fairy-like, ethereal quality to him. He kinda looked too pretty to belong in this revolution, if it were not for the weapons strapped to his hips, the leather fingerless gloves and leather jacket adorning his body, and the biker’s helmet tucked under his arm. His features didn’t fool the group though, they knew he was much stronger than he let on. Many an arm wrestle match proved that as much, each time being taken aback by his defined biceps as he slammed their hands down on the tables and took a small, self-satisfied smirk at his victory.
“YEOSANGIE!!” Wooyoung screeched, barrelling toward his other best friend for a hug. Yeosang accepted the hug but dodged the accompanying kiss to his cheek, a happy glint in his eye and a wide smile betraying just how glad he was to see his friend.
“You saw me a few days ago.” Yeosang playfully reminded Wooyoung, to which the latter laughed aloud.
“Yeah, but we couldn’t really hang out then. You were just there for a few quick seconds.”
“True.”
Yeosang set his helmet to the side, shucking off his leather jacket and sighing at the coolness of the warehouse. The wind whipping against him from the speed of his bike didn’t quite stave off the warmth that his jacket trapped against his body.
“Yeosangie, how are the streets?” Hongjoong asked. “Was your cover compromised?”
Yeosang was their designated messenger and delivery boy, distributing messages, commands, information, and supplies through the group under the guise of a chicken-delivery business. Each of his members’ positions and roles lead to a certain amount of danger, but Yeosang’s was unique in that he was the most involved with the public. One slip of his helmet, one unsuspecting citizen loyal to the government spying upon his face or listening in to his conversations, and his entire cover was blown, and they would lose their supply of first aid and main means of communication with each other.
Thankfully, Yeosang shook his head. “I was careful. But there’s something we need to talk about.”
Hongjoong nodded, then shifted a subtle eye toward the reuniting group behind them. “Let’s talk about it later.”
“Yeah.” A smile lifted Yeosang’s lips once more. “Who are we waiting for?”
“Just Jongho and (Y/N).” Hongjoong stated. “Any word from them?”
“None lately, but I heard a while ago they were planning on infiltrating one of the more high-end casinos near the center sector, where some Strictland officials were said to spend their time. A week later, there was a theft of several thousands of dollars from that location, leading to a shootout. The culprits were never caught. I’d bet you anything that it was them.”
Hongjoong nodded. He had heard of that incident happening not too long ago. “We’ll keep an ear out. In the meantime, go see Seonghwa and the others, they’re dying to catch up.” Hongjoong told him. With a nod, Yeosang left to join the others, accepting a clap on the shoulder from San as he did so.
Hongjoong sighed. It was worrying that they hadn’t heard from the youngest member and his constant companion. It was good that no one was reported captured, but the silence unnerved him. He hoped they were okay as he turned to reunite the group.
With the extra pairs of hands, Seonghwa was able to get the food cooking and watched over. With the food handled, Seonghwa grabbed San and Wooyoung, forcing them to the makeshift medical area near the other end of the main room. There, they exchanged conversation away from listening ears. Wooyoung’s expression became serious and San lifted his shirt, revealing a mottled bruise on his abdomen. Hongjoong averted his eyes.
He hated the amount of danger his group was always in. Day in and day out, they were at risk of recognition, capture, and death. San and Wooyoung ran around in illegal fighting rings, so they were at least somewhat safe from being ratted out. But San constantly put his body on the line for these fights, suffering injuries in the ring, and Wooyoung would be left to defend himself if someone started a fight with him over a bet that was deemed “unfairly won”. Plus, they had to constantly move locations just to get some sleep when Strictland patrolled the streets. He was grateful to the infiltration skills Mingi possessed when he gave them the patrol schedules. These drones rarely ever deviated from their set patrol schedules, so it was a valuable piece of information to them.
Mingi and Yunho had one thing going after them: The government couldn’t pin them down. They both shared the name “DJANGO”, switching who played that role consistently and confusing the drones who sought after them. The anonymity that this presented gave them some security. If the government was getting suspicious of one of them being DJANGO, they’d switch places, and then again.
Jongho and (Y/N), their roles had them infiltrating and hustling card games for information and money. If they were caught, that’d be another source of money and information lost. They’d be captured and, if they were lucky, executed quickly. Hongjoong didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they were unlucky. The two were also consistently on the move, whatever money they earned in their games were spent on hotel rooms, moving every other night so as to not garner suspicion.
Hongjoong longed to be out there with them, fighting alongside them and protecting them. Him and Seonghwa were the ones they sought after the most, so for their own safety they kept holed up in Wonderland, running operations from the shadows. But it drove him mad going days, sometimes almost full weeks without hearing from his family, and him being stuck back at home base, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for news, a break, anything…
Seonghwa assured him that it was for the best, and the others can handle themselves. That doesn’t stop the worry.
That was why, when the doors opened and closed one final time, his knees almost buckled with relief.
In came Choi Jongho, the youngest of the group. He was dressed in his casual, undercover clothes, layered in sweaters and pants, black hair curtaining his face and wide eyes. It was a sheer disconnect from the suits and outfits he wears for undercover work, the difference between “Blackjack” and Jongho. He was another of the bulky members, clearly strong, but it wasn’t often he got to use it. He knew that his strength wouldn’t fail him if he had to, however. What was really his greatest strength was his dizzying intelligence and a sharp wit that leaves his older brothers rolling in laughter. His lips bore a wide smile as he rushed to see his brothers, eager to catch up on their endeavors.
And finally, the last member to arrive. Ironically, she was the last person to join the group. She had started out in a similar manner that the others had, a student at Prestige Academy, having her intellect honed razor sharp and her sense of self stripped away. Until she stumbled across a street dance one day and fell in love with the art. They rescued her as she was running from drones, and she had been with them ever since. Ever since her arrival, she had shown them exactly why Prestige had chosen her to be a part of their ranks, displaying an intelligence and resourcefulness that has helped them turn the tide of this revolution.
Hongjoong was glad to have her on the team, and for more reasons than just what she was capable of, how she helped them in the fight. She also just kept them together as a group.
When there are problems, she’s the one the guys go to for honest answers about what to do. She was the one to come up with the idea to split up when Strictland were getting too close to them, having been too close to capture a few too many times, and she was the first one to volunteer to stay with Jongho when he took the role that he did. She was a friend they could all count on, and in turn she learned to count on them. They grew together, and he was grateful for her.
When she reached him, Hongjoong opened his arms for a hug, which she returned.
“Taking care of each other?” He asked when they separated.
She smiled and nodded. “We got into a spot of trouble a few days back so we’ve been laying low. Sorry I haven’t been able to get a hold of you guys.”
“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Hongjoong assured her. “What was the haul?”
(Y/N) shrugged. “A few thousand and some information about one of the Prestige professors' hobbies. We might be able to use that.”
“Tell me later.” Hongjoong gestured to the group in the kitchen. “I think the food is almost ready. We’ll regroup after dinner.”
(Y/N) nodded and went to rejoin her family.
A mild cheer rose up from the group as she arrived at the kitchen. Mingi bowled over Yeosang to wrap his arms around her and lift her in the air, and her cackles lifted into the air with her. When her feet were set back on the ground, she was swept into a warm hug from San, which she melted into.
If she was the closest to anyone besides Jongho, it would be San. He was the one who rescued her when the Strictland drones caught her and brought her to the group. That day, the bond they formed solidified into a life-long friendship with him and the rest of the guys. When she wasn’t in a hotel room with Jongho, she was with Wooyoung and San in their van.
“Keep yourself alive, (Y/N)ie?” He asked.
“Always, Sannie.” She answered, peeling herself from his arms. “How’s van life with Wooyoung?”
“Ah, can’t complain.” he shrugged. “He’s turned into a nagging mother hen recently, though.”
“You got hit so hard, you bruised your ribs!” Wooyoung whispered as he butted in, latching onto (Y/N) for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Big deal!”
“San,” (Y/N) groaned. “That is a big deal! You better not be fighting with it!”
San pouted at being ganged up on. “Woo’s been making me sit out the past few days. Hwa says I should be good to get back in the ring once the bruising clears up.”
“Do you think you can do that?” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed with concern. “Going more than a few days out of the ring… Can you guys handle that?”
“Don’t worry, honey.” Wooyoung assured her. “We can take care of ourselves, you don’t need to worry about us.”
She didn;t like that answer, but let it slide for now. “Just… If there's something I can do to help, let me know and I’ll do it. You know I will.”
“Don’t worry, we know.” San told her, giving her a soft smile. (Y/N) returned that smile, and the mood cleared when she spotted Seonghwa. A wicked smile curled her lips.
“Hey, Wooyoung, tell Seonghwa the mess you left your room in the last time we were here.”
Immediately, Hwa perked up at the mention of his name. At Woo’s scandalized gasp toward her and his guilty gaze when he met Seonghwa’s eyes, he knew he was in trouble.
Hongjoong, ever the shit-stirrer, grinned. “Yeah, I could barely walk inside the room to get your lights on. And were those snack wrappers I saw on your desk?”
Wooyoung was saved from Seonghwa’s wrath when Yunho spoke up just in time to announce that the food was ready. A final glare Wooyoung’s way promised a return to the conversation before the group crowded around the kitchen counters, surrounding the food like sharks. Wooyoung gave (Y/N) a joking frown, to which she responded by smiling “innocently,” and they followed the line to get food.
“YOUNGEST GOES FIRST.” San shouted over the din, which was met with a few groans, but they parted the waters to let Jongho through, who sauntered to the counter with a smirk.
Being the youngest has its privileges, which he indulged in whenever it suited him.
After he served himself, the rest of the boys and only girl formed a line to follow. Seonghwa had somehow brought up a feast with what they had, and their stomachs growled.
Once everyone had served themselves, they found their respective seats at the table. Seonghwa and Yunho settled on a couple of barstools that had been found, letting their legs stretch. Mingi himself was among the tallest, but moved around too much to rest comfortably on a barstool, so he settled in a tall, high backed metal chair he had found in a dumpster behind an old bar he’d raided. (Y/N) sat with them, enjoying the high energy conversation and tales of the city Mingi and Yunho brought.
Wooyoung clambered into a rather cushiony and fancy chair, if it weren’t for the split padding in the seat and backrest, and crossed his legs comfortably. Beside him sat Jongho, comfortable in a worn down wooden chair that let him swing his legs freely. He put forth a mature facade, the eldest of his siblings back in the city, but he truly was the youngest here.
On the other side, Hongjoong, San, and Yeosang sat side by side in dinner chairs that had been thrown out. They exchanged quiet conversation, soaking in each other's presence. They were a few of the more… one could say “shy” members. It took a while to warm up to someone new, and they enjoyed quiet times to themselves.
They all waited to eat until everyone had seated themselves. Once everyone was in a chair, their hands clapped in unison.
“Let’s eat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
San flopped into his favorite bean bag chair next to one of the couches, groaning in satisfaction. It’d been a while since he’d eaten that good, and he looked forward to every family dinner for that reason. He was feeling light and happy from seeing his friends, and now drowsiness was starting to take over him. He rolled over and took a dusty pillow from the ground next to him and hugged it to his chest.
“So full…” He huffed.
“You said it.” Wooyoung grunted from the couch across from him.
The meal was merry and full of laughter. Seats were switched around as conversations abounded, each swapping tales of their adventures since they'd seen each other last. No one sat in the same place for long. Eventually, all the food had been eaten and conversation gave way to sleepiness. They each migrated to the mock living room, ready to collapse in their favorite resting places.
(Y/N) groaned as she slumped her way over to the beanbag that San was lying on, dropping to her knees and pulling the pillow in his arms aside, draping herself over him. Immediately, his arms wound around her and pulled her in for a cuddle, and she sighed contentedly.
“Tired?” San hummed.
“Mmhmm…” she murmured. “Been on the run since the bank heist. Not much time for sleep.”
“Rest now.” San said as he rubbed her arms comfortingly. “We've got you.”
Many more members made their way to the couches and beanbags. Jongho fell into a sitting position on the opposite end of Wooyoung's couch, who then promptly raised his feet and plopped them onto Jongho's lap. Jongho swatted them off at first, but relented when Wooyoung stubbornly planted his feet right back. He'd get his revenge in the morning by tickling his friend's feet until he squirmed away in wakefulness.
Mingi collapsed face first on a different couch, groaning into the pillow. Yunho settled down on the floor beside him, spreading out a beanbag as much as he could to use as a makeshift bed and pillow. Yeosang curled up into an old armchair to the side of the main pile, contentedly groaning.
Hongjoong joined shortly after, smiling warmly down at his sleepy family. Seonghwa finished cleaning up the kitchen and chuckled softly to himself at the sight. He knew that none of them would make it to their beds that night, so he left on the hunt for blankets and to turn off the members’ room lights. Might as well save some power.
Hongjoong himself plugged in the fairy lights and lamps, allowing them to softly glow over the group. (Y/N) was already knocked out and snoring in San's arms, and San was headed that way with slow, sleepy blinks not registering the world around him. Yeosang was snoring softly, curled into what looked like the single most uncomfortable position on the armchair, but he was just content right there. He'd have some back pain tomorrow, that's for sure.
When Seonghwa returned, they draped the blankets he had collected from their respective beds around each exhausted member.
“I’m gonna have words with Wooyoung tomorrow.” Seonghwa grumbled as he draped said member’s blanket on him.
Hongjoong’s smile turned to amusement, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
He took the blanket Seonghwa offered him and found a place with an unoccupied beanbag. He curled down onto it, covering himself. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but he’d slept in worse. Besides, his family was with him. All safe, all alive, and all sleeping or heading to sleep soundly around him. That knowledge alone brought him more peace and comfort than the most comfortable bed in the world.
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - In the Beginning, Part 2
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader, but no mention of the guys. Just reader today folks.
Summary: A restless teen risks danger to find what she was looking for.
WC: ~2.5K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Mostly angst, with a few lighthearted bits
Masterlist
Warning(s): Dystopian society, reader is depressed but doesn't understand it, reader almost gives up on the journey, self-loathing, almost getting caught, anxiety, fear, getting threatened, a little bit of manhandling, mentions of death and kidnapping.
A/N: Guys..... I am SO SORRY it has taken this long. Life kept getting in the way of everything. At this point, 9 pages in on my document and I had no idea where to go from there, I just decided "screw it" so here you go.
Without further ado...
Her back rested hard against the concrete wall that separated her from the outside of the city, and her lungs heaved for air. She wasn’t used to the strain of walking for longer periods of time, always cooped up at a desk somewhere, and the effort was getting to her.
The night was getting darker the longer she stumbled around, and she cursed wearily.
“This isn’t working…” She muttered. “What… what am I doing wrong?”
The whole “wander-around-until-you-find-something” plan wasn’t helping her find anything more than dumpsters and close calls with the Guardians. Her horrible nights of sleep the past weeks weren't helping with her frustration and exhaustion. Tears pricked her eyes, and she slammed her fist into the ground beside her.
“Fuck!”
This was such a waste of time… what am I even looking for anyway? This was stupid, (Y/N), what were you thinking? Over and over again, the berating thoughts swirled in her mind as she sat against the wall behind her, the tears flowing freely. Hopelessness overwhelmed her, and she sobbed quietly.
All this effort to “find her missing piece” - what a joke. All she was at this moment was lost in the city and exhausted.
But as she was picking herself up, dusting off the seat of her pants and resigning herself to trudging home, her eyes caught something. Thinking it was just a trick of the light reflecting off her tears, she blinked rapidly, but the sight stayed: A crumpled piece of paper with ruined color sliding against the wall she was just resting on. She paused, leaning down to grab at it. It was fairly new, the color hadn’t faded yet. But it was crumpled and battered enough to show that it had been out for a little while, maybe a few days. Her shaking hands straightened it out, and she read it as best as she could in what little light she had.
“Fights… games… betting… shows?” She read aloud.
As she read the poster, her heart sang. Somehow, deep in her soul, she knew that this was exactly what she had been looking for.
The location on the map told of a location, a red dot circled at a small junction in some streets.
She stuffed the poster into her bag and took off running. The sudden burst of energy carried her, and as she ran through the night, the streets beside her became more faded, older, much more like that street alleyway where she had seen the man who looked like air and gravity bent to his will. Closer, and closer, she kept going and going until the warehouse on the poster loomed above her.
It was a large building that gave off the appearance of being abandoned, with parts of the roof caving in and its formerly pristine white paint stained gray and brown with age and weathering, peeling away to reveal the concrete below it. Despite the abandoned appearance of the building, the boarded up windows, the rolling front door with gleaming handles, and the faint shoe prints outside of the building told her otherwise. People still used it, though not for its original purpose.
Cautiously, she stepped forward. Her hand grasped the handles at the bottom of the sliding warehouse door, and she pulled with all of her might. The door slid up surprisingly easily, and it caught her so off guard that it almost slipped through her grasp. Thankfully, she regained her wits quick enough to regain control over the door. She slipped under the gap it created, lowering it softly to the floor once she was on the other side.
Her heart pounded, but she held her breath, ears straining to catch every possible sound that could have come after the noise she had made. After a few minutes passed and not a soul or machine passed by, she released the air in a long, quiet sigh. She was safe… as safe as she could be in an unknown place, led there only by a faded poster.
Now that the immediate danger had passed, (Y/N) took this time to look around.
It looked like the average warehouse: A large square concrete space with high walls and ceilings. There were metal shelves littered around the space, some abandoned, some with random boxes and tools scattered on them. Other than that, it looked like the place was cleared out ages ago. Cobwebs lingered in the corners of the shelving units, and she could see dust floating in the air through the little light that shone from the outside lights.
Strange…
Why would this warehouse be advertised as some place with loud, boisterous activities, like betting and fighting, if it was abandoned? Furthermore, regardless of its size, the building was too small and public to accommodate such a large amount of people and remain unnoticed. Surely, there was something she was missing. Maybe some sort of secret entrance?
Her mind raced as she dug around in her backpack, producing a thin flashlight. Clicking it, a beam of light illuminated a small circle on the floor, and she looked around as best as she could. She remembered seeing the building’s back end merging with the walls that surrounded the city. If there were some back entrance, it could be there, but it would be obvious. There were still cameras outside the walls, they were pointed out quite often in class. Hell, if you turned on the TV to the one channel they had, a constant stream of news and reminders of the rules, there was a segment every day where they would play the live footage of the world outside of the walls. She shivered, recalling the blank desert scenes and the scary looking woods out in the far distance. Maybe not on the back walls… but what about the floor?
Her eyes and flashlight darted around until they alighted on a large tarp scattered and crumpled on the floor. It was a large, blue…shiny? thing, scattered randomly across the floor, clumped together in some areas and smooth in others.
Something bothered her about it.
Why was it shiny?
It was so out of place in this dusty warehouse. The dust piled on top of everything, cobwebs fluttered in every corner, and the metal and concrete of the warehouse was old and grimy with age and neglect. But not this tarp. This tarp was clean, with its plasticky fibers gleaming in the light of her flashlight. Shiny meant new, shiny meant used. Which meant that this was hiding something.
She rushed over to the mess on the floor grabbing a corner of the tarp that was flat and started peeling it back slowly. A small sliver appeared on the floor, and she pulled the tarp fully back to reveal a square door set smoothly into the concrete, a silver ring gleaming in the light of the flashlight. She reached down and threaded her fingers through the ring, pulling the door carefully up to reveal a ladder descending into a small, dimly lit concrete tunnel. Faint sounds of music pulsed through it and her heart picked up a few beats.
This is it…!
She turned over and put her feet on the first rung, then reached over to grasp an edge of tarp to throw over the hole to the entrance. She slipped down the ladder quickly, watching the tarp flutter over the entrance and to the ground, concealing it from sight once more. A few more steps down, and the door closed above her. The final few steps brought her to the floor.
Her hands gripped the rungs of the ladder tightly for a few seconds before releasing, and she turned around.
The music she had heard was now a little louder as she stepped further down the dirty concrete tunnel. It was so unique, energetic, filling the space around her. As she peered down the long tunnel, she noted small lights illuminating the hallway every so often, never leaving any area unilluminated. It was too long to see the end of the tunnel, sending a small thrill down (Y/N)’s spine at the thought of the unknown in front of her. Nevertheless, she gripped the straps of her backpack and pressed forward.
With each step, each light passed, her heart picked up in tempo, as if responding to the music as it became louder and louder near her. Growing nearer, she could hear the faint sound of cheers and groans that broke through the blanket of music. Eventually she got close enough where she could feel the music through the walls, thrumming through her body by her feet on the floor and her fingers on the walls. A door appeared before her, growing larger with each step she took.
Before she knew it, the door had appeared just in front of her. A rectangle was cut into the door just about her eye level, but it was covered from the other side.
Hm…
She raised her hand hesitantly and knocked on the door. Instantly, the rectangle slotted open and music flooded through the tiny opening, louder than anything she'd ever heard. However, she was jarred from the realization when a fierce pair of eyes fixed on her.
“Who the hell are you?!” The voice behind the door boomed. “How did you find us?”
(Y/N) blinked rapidly.
“Oh-” she gasped. “I-I found a poster on the wall in Sector 6-”
“Show it to me.”
(Y/N) nodded, and with trembling fingers she hoisted the bag off her shoulder and opened it, retrieving the crumpled piece of paper. She smoothed it out, raising it so the person at the door could see the lettering.
There was an agonizingly long second where she wasn’t sure if they would have be;ieved her, but the person behind the door swore colorfully and pulled the door open. Before she could even react, a hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her behind the door, closing it roughly and slamming her into it.
“How the fuck do I know that you’re not one of them?”
The person behind the door turned out to be a woman, who’s voice carried easily over the music, though (Y/N) could hardly hear it through the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. She looked a bit older than (Y/N), with sharp, angry eyes that narrowed on (Y/N)’s face, moving rapidly as if she were memorizing each and every feature that made (Y/N) unique. The hands that gripped the collar of the frightened teenager, pressing her against the door were scarred and worn, with smudges of dirt below the fingernails. The woman was strong and fierce, and (Y/N) had no doubts that she could hold her own in a fight.
“I-I’m not! You can search me, I’ve got nothing!” )Y/N) babbled, more than a little intimidated as she reached up for the straps of her backpack. “I swear, I’m not!”
The woman’s eyes narrowed even further, and she let go of the collar, stepping back. “Empty out your backpack, your pockets, and your outer layer of clothes and step away. Keep your hands where I can see them at all times, or we’re going to have a problem.” She ordered.
(Y/N) nodded, hands shaking as she fumbled with the straps of her bag, tearing open the zippers and tipping it over. All of the contents of the bag spilled all over the floor, and the fierce woman clicked her tongue in annoyance of the mess. Once the bag was completely empty, (Y/N) dropped it to the side and wrestled her jacket off of her shoulders, dropping it beside the bag. She patted her pockets, but found that there was nothing in them, so she turned them inside out to show.
The woman watched the whole time, sharp eyes on every movement of her hands. Once the bag and pockets were empty, the woman reached over and plucked the bag from the ground, tearing through it viciously. Her hands checked every possible nook and cranny, even feeling the inside fabric for what (Y/N) could only assume were wiretaps or trackers. When it came up empty, she then moved to the jacket, repeating the same search, and then picked carefully through the items on the ground.
After each item was thoroughly inspected, the woman turned her gaze back to the teen, less fury and protectiveness in her eyes, replaced by wariness.
“You said you found this poster,” she lifted the paper. “In Sector 6?”
(Y/N) quickly nodded, and the woman clicked her tongue again. “I bet it was that damn Do-Yun, I told him to stop pulling shit like this.”
She sighed, pulling herself to her feet and inspected (Y/N) with a scrutinizing look.
“What’s your story?”
(Y/N) blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I hardly believe that pure curiosity led you to find a random poster and follow it.” The woman scoffed. “You had to have some reason to come here. Now spill it.”
(Y/N) swallowed, her eyes darting around as she tried to think of what to say.
Should she just say it really was pure curiosity? It technically wouldn’t be a lie… but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. And something told (Y/N) that the woman standing before her was more perceptive than she looked. She could probably sniff out lies and omissions like a bloodhound. And (Y/N) didn’t know what the woman would do to her if she was found to be lying. At best, she would kick her out and threaten her to never speak of the place she’d found. At worst, she could disappear forever and would never be found.
“I-I’ve… It’s hard to describe.” She forced out. “I saw someone, he was moving in a way I’ve never seen before. Something inside me changed, but I can’t understand what… I just needed to find that again. I haven’t slept since I saw him.”
The woman’s eyes softened.
“What happened to him?” She asked, her rough voice gentler.
(Y/N) took a breath.
“He was captured by the Guardians. I don’t think he’s…” she trailed off, words caught in the back of her throat.
In a surprising move, the woman moved forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her deep in the eyes.
“He isn’t.” She said, and the confirmation of the man’s death caused her to swallow back tears. “I knew that man. We told him it was a dangerous idea, but he insisted. I guess now I understand why he was so adamant about dancing that day.”
That word…
“Dancing?” (Y/N) asked. “Is that what he was doing?”
The woman nodded. “Yeah. That’s what it’s called, dancing. He was one of the only people who knew how.”
“Is there… more? Here?” (Y/N) asked hesitantly.
The softness lessened in the woman’s eyes, and she leaned back. After a thoughtful pause, her mouth opened.
“Do you want to see for yourself?”
There was no beat, no hesitation. (Y/N) barely waited for the sentence to end when she responded with a rushed and breathless “Yes. Please.”
The woman nodded. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Uhm… It’s (Y/N).”
“Okay, (Y/N).” The woman extended her hand, calloused palm shining in the lights flickering around them. “I’m Kim Ha-Yoon. Welcome to The Underground.”
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - In the Beginning, Part 1
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader, but no mention of the guys. Just reader today folks.
Summary: We learn where the reader started before she joined the group, and what steps she took to find her way to them.
WC: ~2.8K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Mostly angst, with a few lighthearted bits
Warning(s): Dystopian society, reader is depressed but doesn't understand it, nightmares, peril, life-threatening situations, anxiety, reader feels lost and doesn't understand why, Android Guardians almost catch her, mentions of food, a student environment, tests and stuff like that.
Here's part one of the very beginning of the reader's time with the gang. Lots of world-building, establishing where the reader came from. I originally wanted to post this much later on, but the brainrot didn't leave me alone and I haven't been able to write much lately, so I figured I might as well just post it.
Masterlist
If I missed anything, please let me know!
She dreamt of a blue bird.
A beautiful bird with feathers the color of the brightest hues of the ocean. Long, elegant wings tucked into its body, with long and graceful tail feathers. The beautiful bird was kept in an iron cage on a pedestal in the middle of a dark room, cold metal bars glinting in the harsh light that shone down upon it. It was the only thing that was illuminated, the rest of the room shrouded in darkness. The blue bird hung its head mournfully, and her heart ached for this beautiful, mysterious creature.
The bird met her eyes and cooed out a low note, pitiful and sad. Her hand reached out, trying to grasp the bars and set this bird free, but as usual, before her fingertips could touch the bars-
And she woke up.
Her eyes opened to her bright white room, a perfect contrast to the dark one in her dreams.
As wakefulness rose in her, she groaned, turning away from the morning light as it shone on her face. Just a few more minutes…
That prayer wasn’t granted as a shrill alarm sounded through the air. A louder groan left her lips as she blindly turned back over to slap at the alarm clock on her desk, silencing the damn object. Her morning was peaceful once more, and she sat up with a heavy huff.
Just another day. She thought as she made breakfast. It was silent in the kitchen of her small apartment, gifted to her by the higher ups at her school. It was a small, simple home. Just a rectangular space with a bathroom, kitchen, small sitting area, and a bedroom. She shared laundry services with the other older students in a laundromat somewhere on the bottom floors. This student had only been moved in for about a year, but it still didn’t feel quite like home. With the off-white walls and gray or black dishware, cookware, with the monochrome sheets and blankets and towels, colors she had always known… something was missing. She never knew what it was, but there was always an ache that suggested she was longing for something she never knew. There wasn’t any time to dwell on it, however, because one quick look at the black-and-white clock on her wall told her she needed to get a move on before she was late.
The white door locked behind her, and she was off.
The walk to school was a blur of white doors, gray and black streets and hardly a soul around. The monotonous drone of her footsteps on the ground, carrying her on the path that she had trekked for years, almost lulled her to sleep walking. She didn't even bother to raise her head from her feet, staring as she was taken one step, two, three forward and again and again until she reached her destination. Idly, the girl wondered if she could attempt the route with her eyes closed. With enough time and practice, maybe she could even do it while she was asleep.
Wouldn't that be something?
It was a thought she quickly shook from her head as the gates to her school appeared before her.
Prestige Academy. It was the main star of the city, with towers higher than even the government buildings. With spotlights and sleek walls, there was no doubt the message it was trying to put out: you wish that you were one of us.
And she was one of them.
Every child is tested at a young age for the level of intelligence they’d present later on in life. Apparently she had scored well, because once the government knew of this, she was immediately put on the list to be one of the students at Prestige. As soon as she was of age to go to school, she was whisked away to the Academy, along with a whole generation of highly intelligent children. She hadn’t even seen her real family ever since, Prestige Academy having been her home her entire life. She was never given any pictures of them, and as the years passed, she would slowly start to forget their faces. As she grew up, she would live with the other students until puberty, where she was given her own, separate dorm. As she reached adulthood, she was then moved to her own apartment, which she was told would remain her home until she started her own family or she graduated, so she better get comfortable.
This school was rigorous and difficult. Every day, the limits of your intelligence would be pushed and tested and then pushed further. Rigorous testing, evaluations, and adjustments filled her life as a student. Ask any other student, and they’d tell you they were happy with their life. Why wouldn’t they be? They’re worry-free, fed, clothed and housed. What was so bad about their life?
What was so bad about her life…?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her footsteps echoed through the streets as she wandered mindlessly. School had ended for the day, the students dismissed to go home or wherever. Normally she went home right after class, wanting to get started on her studying and homework as soon as possible. But today, she didn’t.
She didn’t know why. All she knew was that she just… didn’t want to go home. Her body wouldn’t let her. She wandered aimlessly, looking for something, but not knowing what it was.
And as she wandered, her eyes remained glued to her feet, only lifting when her shoulder bumped into a wandering bystander, knocking her off balance. She whirled up, meeting the eyes of the stranger and apologizing. They just scoffed and moved forward, and (Y/N) got a good look at her surroundings.
She was in an area she’d never actually been before. It was close to where she was familiar, with the streets still being made of the same black and white cobbles and the buildings still created like the ones in the sector she grew up in. But there was something extra she found, something she had never really seen before. She just… couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but looking around at the small carts selling necessities she had only ever seen in stores, with more people in the streets at once than she had ever seen in her entire life, wandering around, she could feel it.
Her feet continued to move, now with more purpose, an excitement welling up in her that she hadn’t felt in quite some time. Her wide eyes darted everywhere, taking it all in. It was such a small change, but after ages of the exact same surroundings and people every single day, it was everything.
It was a small market, from what she could tell. Little carts and tents lined the area, selling vegetables and baby clothes and honey and so many other things. The vegetables were very fresh, carrots still sporting some stains from the dirt they were pulled from, tomatoes and apples flecked with bruises, corn still sporting small hairs from having just been stripped from their husks. The clothes they sold were hand-me-downs, old school uniforms and other clothing articles that she had never seen before. Blankets and small jewelry and trinkets, customers haggling for lower prices, it was all things she had seen before. But they were in pristine shops and stores, clean and organized. Not something like this.
And somehow… She preferred this one.
And as she continued to wander, allowing her curiosity to fill her soul and guide her footsteps, she came across something truly unique.
A crowd had gathered in an alleyway, hooting and hollering at something they watched, jostling each other and pressing tighter together, all clamoring to see. Her curiosity was piqued, and she wandered over to the crowd, wanting to know just what they were seeing.
In the center of the crowd rested an almost perfect circle of space, and in that perfect circle was a man.
He was lithe and strong, moving about with a delicacy and grace she had never seen before. His weathered skin and silver-flecked hair showed proof of his age, but he moved smoothly and fluidly, as if he were still a young man. Perhaps, in his soul, he still was. As soon as she saw him, she was entranced, captivated by his movements. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, his body moving and twisting and twirling, following a pull that no one else could see, or hear. It was like he was possessed by the motions his own body was creating, and each flourish of his arms and sweep of his legs elicited gasps from the crowd of onlookers. As she watched, he picked up speed and energy, and she could see sweat dripping along his face, from his chin and down onto the street below his feet, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, becoming quicker and almost lighter and more intense, until it all exploded in a shining display of strength as he leapt into the air.
It seemed as if he were weightless, leaping into the air like gravity no longer applied to him, his legs curled, arms thrown wide in exaltation. She swore that in the light, she could see wings fluttering behind him.
It was pure and it was beautiful and it was unlike anything she had ever seen and filled her chest with something she had never felt before. Her heart stuttered as she watched, purely and utterly entranced by the display in front of her, and suddenly wished to join him. To see what he saw and experience how it felt to fly, to move with such grace, feel what drew him to move in such a way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, as if that would transfer that raw beauty that was his entire being into her.
For a moment, there was nothing else in this world but the man who moved as if he were weightless, and her, entranced by his beauty.
And in a blink, that moment was shattered when a net of silvery threads wrapped around the man, and all of a sudden, the world rushed around her.
The netted body hit the ground harshly, the grace broken along with the crowd. The onlookers panicked, immediately swirling around each other and pushing to flee. In the panic, air filled (Y/N)’s lungs, and her eyes darted around. They locked onto a dark figure in the background, and her heart stopped.
The Android Guardians…!
Everyone knew them. Anyone who had dared to defy the laws set in place were taken by the Android Guardians. They would be made an example of, and the Guardians often patrolled the streets maintaining that order.
She had only seen them in action once, dragging a screaming and struggling woman behind them until they disappeared from sight. She was never seen again.
Panic took over, and she turned on her heel and ran. Her eyes flitted wildly around, darting here and there until they zeroed in on an abandoned cloth-selling cart, shutters drawn and cloths thrown about. She dove under the cart, hoping that the scurrying of the panicked crowds hid her from the Guardian’s sight, and covered herself with scraps of abandoned cloth. Her eyes squeezed themselves shut and her hands cupped around her ears, blocking out everything around her. As the roar of the panicked crowd raged around her, she remained stock-still underneath the cart, barely even daring to breathe for fear of getting caught.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her hands pried themselves from her ears after what felt like an age. It was eerily silent, the street once filled with life and sound now abandoned and dead. She slowly uncovered herself and crawled out from under the cart, eyes darting for any signs of movement that could signify danger. The street was as abandoned as it sounded, the only signs of life having ever been there was the abandoned street carts and mess thrown about from the panic. Her heart picked up again, overwhelmed with the urge to run, to flee, to hide. She needed to get back home. Maybe if she did, she’d fall asleep in her bed and wake up and it had all been a dream. It had to all be a dream. It simply... Had to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life went on as normal for her after that. She still woke up at the same time every morning, made herself breakfast, went to school. The same routine she’d had for years.
Except it couldn’t be farther from normal. Nothing was ever the same after that day. There was something about that day that nagged her as she continued to go through her life, the daily motions. As she went about her day to day life, she was suddenly hyper-aware of everything around her. She sought out things that resembled the motions of that man, things that felt similar to how that crowded street felt, anything to replicate anything she had felt on that day.
It nagged her as she sat in her classes, hung over her like a cloud as the school days continued. It was all she could think about, consuming her entire being, calling out to her to go, to seek it out again, to find more of that motion.
What the hell was she supposed to do?
That, among many other questions, consumed her every waking moment. She couldn’t sleep, the thoughts swirling in her head making it almost impossible to settle her brain down to even think.
The logical part of her was terrified. That was too close a call with the Android Guardians, and she didn’t want to risk it again. She was a good student, living life in the fast lane, being taken care of. She didn’t have to work to eat, she didn’t have to do much of anything except study. What was so wrong with this life that she sought more?!
Because she did. The inner part of her, the one she tried to keep quiet, the one she repressed and hid and ignored until it was awakened that very moment with the man who moved with such grace, that part of her sought more. There was always that little part of her that pleaded with her to listen, saying that something wasn’t quite right. Something… was missing. And as much as she tried to ignore it, push it down, that part of her knew that it had found that missing piece that day in the little market.
Was she supposed to just go back to her old life, knowing that she had found the one thing that she didn’t even know she was missing? Was that one missing piece worth the risk of giving up her entire life and livelihood? She was living well, fed, clothed, housed. Was that missing piece worth losing… everything? What even was that missing piece in the first place? Hours and days of pondering that question, and the answer never came to her. If there was no definable answer to that question, what exactly was she missing in the first place? Besides, how was she supposed to even go find it? When she stumbled across that marketplace, she wasn’t even intentionally looking for something, she had just stumbled across it accidentally-
And that clicked for her. She sat up in her bed, blanket tumbling from her form as her spine straightened in realization. There was the answer to one of her questions.
Her heart pounded, chest heaving in quick breaths. When she found it… she wasn’t even looking for it. She was just following her feet, wandering aimlessly, following something she didn't even know what it was. The missing piece just came to her, or rather, she unconsciously came to it. So… if she were to try and find it again, all she would have to do is just go out and wander. If she “tried,” put forth effort into looking, then she would surely never find it.
Without thinking or hesitation, her feet landed on the floor and carried her to her backpack. The insides were dumped out onto her bed, instead replaced with whatever she could find: a waterproof jacket, her wallet, keys, mini umbrella, anything she might need for being outside.
Her senses returned to her as she slung the bag over her shoulder, hand gripping the doorknob to her front door.
Am I really doing this?
Is this really happening?
What if I get caught?
If I do this, there’s no going back. Everything will be different.
If you have the habit of picking at your skin, Valko won't have it. He'll give you a couple warnings once he notices the behavior, his ear twitching whenever he hears the slight sound of you tugging at your skin.
Valko stalks over to where you're seated at your desk, taking your hand in his and prying it away from your skin. "Aht. Hey. Stop that, alright? You gotta let it heal."
If he spots it once, he'll be on the lookout, so good luck hiding anything from him. And if he catches the scent of blood, he'll be on your case immediately.
His solution? He steals one of your hands. Good luck picking your skin as a fidget with only one hand to handle your primary task! He doesn't mind intertwining your fingers with his own for hours at a time, and there's no escaping his ironclad grip.
Mindlessly, your hand finds a scab on your neck, and you start to peel it out of habit. You startle as you suddenly hear footsteps approaching your office, and a few seconds later, there he is. He approaches you like a wolf on the prowl, raising an eyebrow when you meet his gaze. "Alright, pup. I gave you enough chances. Now, it's time for consequences."
Your chest feels tight. Is he frustrated with you for not trying hard enough? "I-I wasn't thinking, Val, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I-"
"Hey." He cups your cheeks, staring deep into your eyes and making sure you're listening. "I'm not mad, okay? No apologizing. I didn't mean to spook you." He flashes you a grin, then takes one of your hands in his, waving it in the air. "I'm just taking this hostage for a while."
Eventually, he'll start idly stroking your hand, his big thumb running back and forth across the veins on the back. He'll also hold your hand in both of his, playing with your smaller fingers, or gently trail his fingernails up and down your forearm to make you shiver, holding your wrist in place with his other hand.
And if that still doesn't work, and you have the gall to start doing it again while he's right there? Well, clearly you need to learn your lesson! He wraps his arms around both of yours and cuddles up beside you, keeping you immobilized in his embrace and refusing to let go. If you won't use your hands responsibly, then you don't deserve to use them at all!
(He knows you're more likely to indulge in the habit while stressed, so he decides to extract you from the stressful situation altogether. If there's one thing he's good at, it's bringing up your mood!)
"Valko-"
Your protest is cut off as he wraps his huge arms around you and squeezes you tight, rolling over to trap you on top of his chest. You squirm, trying to free your arms, but it's as if you're trying to move a brick wall. He kisses up your neck, and you giggle, feeling his smile press against your skin.
"You're staying here until I decide you've learned your lesson. You're trapped." He nips your neck playfully, and you try to wriggle free again, just for fun.
"But-"
He turns on his side, nestling you between his chest and the back of the couch, allowing you to turn and face him. You're enveloped in his warmth, and you let yourself relax, no longer caring so much about your trapped arms as you look up at him.
His breath grazes your forehead as he speaks, his voice soft. "No buts. I said I'd help you stop, and a wolf keeps his word." He kisses once, twice, three times to your temple, and a fourth to the tip of your nose. He chuckles when you smile up at him, and guides your head into the crook of his neck.
"And this wolf is feeling preeetty tired. I think it's time for a nap."
No matter how much you kick or whine, he won't budge. With a huff, you go limp, letting yourself give in to his warmth, and your eyes slowly droop closed. You think you hear a quiet rumble of satisfaction from his chest, but when you open an eye to check, it seems he's fast asleep. Must have been your imagination.
He can be a heavy sleeper when he wants to be, so there's no chance of getting him to let you go if he decides to take a nap. I bet he snores just a little bit, too....
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After one too many family weddings filled with awkward questions and constant reminders of her cheating ex, Y/N accepts Wooyoung’s offer to pose as her boyfriend. What starts as a favor between friends quickly becomes far more complicated as stolen glances, fake kisses, and one wedding after another blur the line between pretending and falling in love.
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Trope(s): Fake Dating, Wedding Romance, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Found Family
Featuring: ATEEZ OT8 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho), Y/N's chaotic extended family, Daniel (the ex)
Main Masterlist | Wooyoungs Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
This is Part 3
Y/N escaped to the terrace the moment her aunt became occupied with another unsuspecting relative.
She loved her family.
She really did.
But after three hours of smiling, nodding, dancing and pretending she wasn’t exhausted, she desperately needed five minutes where nobody asked her whether she and Wooyoung planned on moving in together.
The cool evening air greeted her like an old friend.
She rested her hands against the stone railing and looked out over the gardens.
The venue had rented hundreds of tiny fairy lights that wound through the hedges and trees, making everything look like something straight out of a romance movie.
„It’s always the weddings, isn’t it?“
She turned at the familiar voice.
„…Seonghwa?“
A smile spread across his face.
„It’s been a while.“
She laughed softly before pulling him into a quick hug.
„It has.“
He stepped back, taking a proper look at her.
„You look beautiful.“
She smiled. „Thank you. You look good, too.“
He looked down at his navy suit.
„I certainly hope so.“
She couldn’t help laughing.
Some things never changed.
She had known Seonghwa since high school.
He’d been two years older, impossibly popular without ever seeming to try.
Kind.
Calm.
The sort of person teachers loved and students admired.
After graduation they had naturally lost touch.
Until two years ago.
The first wedding she’d attended after breaking up with Daniel.
They’d recognized each other immediately.
One conversation had turned into drinks.
The drinks had turned into one very impulsive night.
And then… another one a few months later.
Nothing serious.
No promises.
No expectations.
Both of them had been very honest that neither wanted a relationship.
Eventually life became busy again and they drifted back into occasionally liking each other’s pictures on social media and running into one another at weddings.
„So,“ Seonghwa said, leaning casually against the railing beside her.
„I heard Emma got married.“
„Last month.“
„And now…“
He looked toward the reception hall.
„Julian.“
„My cousin.“
He smiled. „Your family really likes weddings.“
„They reproduce faster than rabbits.“
He laughed quietly. „I’ve noticed.“
For a moment they simply watched guests wander through the gardens.
Then Seonghwa glanced sideways. „I also heard something else.“
„Oh?“
„You finally brought someone.“
Y/N looked down at her shoes.
„…News travels fast.“
„It always does.“
He smiled.
„So.“
He tilted his head.
„Should I congratulate you?“
Her heart did something strange.
Not because of Seonghwa.
Because her mind immediately drifted elsewhere.
To Wooyoung.
To yesterday.
To the warmth of his hand against her cheek.
To the way he’d smiled into their kiss.
To the ridiculous flutter in her stomach every time he looked at her today.
She quickly forced herself back to reality.
„It’s…“
Complicated.
Seonghwa noticed immediately.
„Hm.“
„You made that face.“
„What face?“
„The one where you’re thinking too hard.“
She sighed.
„…Is it that obvious?“
„I’ve known you since you were sixteen.“
„Right.“
„I know your thinking face.“
She laughed.
Unfortunately.
He was right.
„So…“ he prompted gently.
„Tell me.“
She hesitated.
Could she?
It wasn’t exactly a state secret.
Still…
„I need you to promise you won’t laugh.“
„I’ll try.“
„You’ll fail.“
„Probably.“
She smiled despite herself.
Then she took a deep breath.
„My boyfriend…“
„Mhm?“
„…Isn’t actually my boyfriend.“
Seonghwa blinked once.
„…Interesting.“
She found herself telling him everything.
About her family.
About Daniel.
About everyone insisting she should get back together with him.
About Wooyoung offering to help.
About the fake relationship.
About three weddings.
About how convincing he’d somehow become.
She deliberately skipped over the kisses.
Or rather…
She tried to.
„…And then yesterday…“
She stopped.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow.
„Yesterday?“
She groaned.
„We kissed.“
„Oh.“
She covered her face with both hands.
„It was supposed to be practice.“
„I see.“
„It got…“
She waved her hand helplessly.
„…Less professional.“
A laugh escaped him.
„You promised.“
„I said I’d try.“
„You failed.“
„I absolutely failed.“
She bumped his shoulder lightly.
„You’re impossible.“
„I’ve been told.“
He smiled warmly.
„So.“
She sighed.
„So.“
„How long have you been in love with him?“
Her head snapped toward him.
„…What?“
„You heard me.“
„I’m not…“
She stopped.
Because that wasn’t entirely true anymore.
Was it?
„I don’t know what’s wrong with me,“ she admitted quietly. „It was supposed to be fake.“
„Mhm.“
„And then we kissed.“
„Mhm.“
„And now…“
She looked toward the reception hall.
„…Every time he smiles at me, my heart starts acting like it forgot how to behave.“
Seonghwa’s expression softened. „Oh.“
„I know.“
„No.“
He smiled knowingly. „I don’t think you do.“
She frowned. „What does that mean?“
Instead of answering, he glanced past her.
Toward the reception hall.
Then back at her.
„Question.“
„What?“
„Your fake boyfriend.“
„Mhm?“
„Black hair?“
„…Yes.“
„Grey suit?“
She blinked. „…Yes.“
„Looks a little like a smug fox?“
She stared. „…How do you know that?“
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
„I’ve been watching him, looking at me like he wants to kill me.“
Her confusion only deepened.
„…Why?“
He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
„Because he’s been watching you.“
She frowned.
„What?“
„The entire evening.“
He nodded toward the hall.
„I don’t think you’ve looked up once without him already looking at you.“
Her heart skipped.
„No…“
„I’m serious.“
„He…“
„He keeps pretending to talk to other people.“
Seonghwa chuckled.
„But every thirty seconds? His eyes are right back on you.“
She didn’t know what to say.
That couldn’t be…Could it?
„I don’t think,“ Seonghwa continued with an amused smile, „you’re the only one who’s having unexpected feelings.“
Before she could answer, warmth suddenly settled around her waist.
Y/N jumped.
She looked sideways so quickly she nearly lost her balance.
Wooyoung.
His arm rested lightly around her as though it had always belonged there.
He was smiling.
To anyone else, he looked perfectly composed.
To Y/N…
He looked anything but.
His smile was just a little too wide.
His shoulders a little too stiff.
She knew him.
She knew exactly what he looked like when he was pretending not to be bothered.
„Sorry,“ Wooyoung said pleasantly, his hand giving the smallest reassuring squeeze at her waist. „I hope I’m not interrupting.“
Seonghwa smiled back. „Not at all.“
Wooyoung’s eyes briefly met Y/N’s.
Just for a heartbeat.
Long enough for her to see the uncertainty hidden beneath his practiced expression.
Then it disappeared again.
He turned back to Seonghwa and held out his hand.
„I’m Jung Wooyoung.“ His smile never faltered. „Y/N’s boyfriend.“
Y/N could only stare.
Anyone else would have believed every word.
But she noticed the tiny things.
The way his thumb tapped nervously against her side.
The almost imperceptible tension in his jaw.
The fact that he hadn’t once looked away from Seonghwa.
She knew that version of Wooyoung.
It was the one who smiled brightest when he was trying hardest not to let something show.
And for the first time since they’d started this ridiculous arrangement…
She had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Wooyoung's arm still rested lightly around her waist while Seonghwa looked between the two of them with an expression that was entirely too amused.
Then Seonghwa smiled and held out his hand.
"I'm Park Seonghwa."
Wooyoung shook it immediately.
"Jung Wooyoung."
"It's nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise."
Y/N almost sighed in relief.
Maybe this wouldn't be awkward after all.
"So," Wooyoung asked with an easy smile, "how do you two know each other?"
"High school."
Y/N relaxed immediately.
"There," she said, nudging Wooyoung's side. "Nothing mysterious."
"We were in the same school," Seonghwa explained. "Different grades, but we kept running into each other."
Wooyoung nodded.
"That makes sense."
Y/N smiled.
Perfect.
Crisis averted.
"...Then we met again a few years ago."
Her smile faltered.
Seonghwa continued as casually as if he were discussing the weather.
"At one of her cousin's weddings."
Wooyoung looked interested.
"Oh?"
"We ended up having a few flings whenever we met."
Y/N's eyes widened.
"...Seonghwa."
"What?"
"You didn't have to—"
"I think it was two."
He tilted his head.
"Or was it three?"
Y/N wished the stone terrace would simply open beneath her feet.
She risked a glance at Wooyoung.
For the briefest moment...He looked genuinely stunned.
Not dramatically.
Not cartoonishly.
Just...
Caught completely off guard.
It only lasted a heartbeat.
Then his familiar smile returned as though nothing had happened.
"I see."
His voice sounded perfectly normal.
Almost.
Y/N knew him too well.
The smile was a little too practiced.
The pause before he'd answered had been just a fraction too long.
Before she could think of something to say, Seonghwa spoke again.
"Don't worry."
He smiled innocently.
"It was a long time ago."
Wooyoung chuckled politely.
"I'm not worried."
"No?"
"No."
"Good."
Seonghwa folded his arms.
"I'd hate for things to get awkward."
"They aren't."
"No?"
"No."
The conversation might have sounded perfectly pleasant to anyone walking by.
Y/N, however, suddenly felt like she was watching two exceptionally polite cats circle each other.
Neither was openly hostile.
Neither was rude.
But something about it felt...
Competitive.
"So," Seonghwa continued, "Y/N tells me you've been surviving quite a few weddings together."
Wooyoung nodded.
"We've become something of a team."
"I can imagine."
Seonghwa smiled at Y/N.
"She always hated weddings."
"I still do."
"Liar," Wooyoung said immediately.
She turned toward him.
"What?"
"You cried during the ceremony."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"They were happy tears."
"So you admit it."
Seonghwa laughed quietly.
"That sounds like her."
"It is," Wooyoung said.
Without hesitation.
As though he had known her forever.
Y/N caught herself smiling.
Unfortunately, Seonghwa noticed.
He looked back at Wooyoung.
"So..."
"What?"
"Does she still steal fries?"
Wooyoung blinked.
"...How do you know about that?"
"I've known her since she was sixteen."
He looked positively delighted.
"She used to steal mine."
Wooyoung looked at Y/N.
"You've been doing this for years?"
"I don't steal."
"You absolutely do."
"I redistribute."
Seonghwa laughed.
"I used to say the same thing."
Wooyoung sighed dramatically.
"So I've inherited a lifelong criminal."
Y/N folded her arms.
"You two are impossible."
"Maybe," Seonghwa admitted. "But it's fun."
She narrowed her eyes. "You are enjoying this way too much."
"I really am."
He looked at Wooyoung one last time.
"Take good care of her."
Wooyoung answered without hesitation.
"I intend to."
Something softened in Seonghwa's expression.
Then, just before turning away, he caught Y/N's eye.
He gave her the smallest wink.
She stared after him.
...Oh, he had absolutely done all of that on purpose.
That menace.
"I think he likes making people uncomfortable."
Wooyoung's voice pulled her back.
She laughed. "He definitely does."
"He succeeded."
"You?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "A little."
"I noticed."
"You did?"
"You looked like someone had told you pineapple belongs on pizza."
He gasped. "That's far worse."
She smiled.
"My dramatic friend is back."
"I've been here the whole time."
"I wasn't sure."
For a second, they simply looked at one another.
The music inside the reception hall changed.
A slower song drifted through the open doors.
Wooyoung glanced toward the dance floor.
Then back at her. "Dance?"
She blinked. "Again?"
"Unless you'd rather stay out here."
She shook her head. "No."
He offered his hand.
This time, she took it without hesitation.
The dance floor was illuminated almost entirely by strings of warm fairy lights.
Night had settled over the gardens, leaving only soft golden light reflecting off polished wood and smiling faces.
Around them, couples swayed gently to the music.
Wooyoung rested one hand lightly against her back.
The other held hers.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
Just... Different.
Y/N looked up at him.
He smiled.
It was the same smile everyone else saw.
Confident.
Easygoing.
But something felt off.
She couldn't quite place it.
He seemed distracted.
His thoughts somewhere else.
"Woo?"
"Hm?"
"You're quiet."
"I know."
"That's unusual."
"I can be quiet."
"You hate being quiet."
"I tolerate it occasionally."
She smiled.
"Trying to joke your way out of questions."
"I'm offended."
"You should be."
He laughed softly.
The sound eased some of the tension in his shoulders, but not all of it.
She frowned.
Something really was wrong.
Without thinking, she lifted her free hand and lightly touched his cheek.
His entire body flinched.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that she felt it.
His eyes snapped to hers.
There it was.
Whatever he'd been hiding.
"Woo?"
He blinked. "...Yeah?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She searched his face.
"You just flinched."
"I did?"
"Yes."
He looked genuinely surprised for a moment before smiling again.
"You imagined it."
"I absolutely didn't."
"You've had wine."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Smile until people stop asking."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She sighed.
"I know when something's bothering you."
"I'm okay."
"You don't look okay."
He gently squeezed her hand.
"I'm really okay."
She wasn't convinced.
Not even a little.
But the song ended before she could press him any further.
Around them, applause broke out as the band prepared for the next dance.
Y/N looked toward the exit. "...Can we go home?"
He didn't hesitate. "Yeah."
No teasing.
No dramatic complaint about leaving early.
Just..."Yeah."
He looked almost relieved she'd suggested it.
They made their rounds together, saying goodbye to her cousins, her parents, and finally the bride and groom.
Her grandmother hugged Wooyoung twice.
Her aunt insisted they visit for dinner.
Even Daniel's parents wished them a safe drive home.
By the time they stepped out into the cool night air, the music had faded behind the closed doors.
The parking lot was quiet.
Wooyoung unlocked the car with a soft beep.
Neither of them spoke as they climbed inside.
For the first time since this ridiculous arrangement had begun, Y/N had no idea what either of them was supposed to say next.
And somehow, the silence between them felt louder than any conversation they had ever shared.
The first five minutes passed in complete silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
Not the kind they had shared a hundred times after long evenings at Woosan when both of them were simply too tired to keep talking.
This silence felt...Heavy.
The hum of the engine filled the car while streetlights swept over the dashboard in slow, rhythmic intervals.
Y/N folded and unfolded her hands in her lap.
She glanced sideways.
Wooyoung's eyes stayed fixed on the road.
Both hands rested on the steering wheel.
He looked perfectly calm.
Too calm.
She knew him.
Whenever something bothered him, he became quieter than usual.
Not completely silent.
Just... less himself.
And tonight, he'd barely joked since they had left the reception.
She couldn't stand it anymore.
"...Woo?"
"Hm?"
"Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
He smiled without looking away from the road.
"You worry too much."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I just..."
She searched for the right words.
"You've been quiet."
"I've had a long day."
"So have I."
"I know."
Another smile.
Small.
Gentle.
It disappeared almost immediately.
Silence settled between them again.
Y/N stared out of the passenger window.
Maybe he was tired.
Maybe she really was imagining things.
Maybe...
No.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it.
The realization hit her so suddenly that she turned back toward him.
"...Are you angry with me?"
The question seemed to catch him completely off guard.
"What?"
"Are you angry?"
His head snapped toward her for the briefest moment before returning to the road.
"What?"
He sounded genuinely confused.
"You've barely talked since we left."
"Y/N..."
"And you've been acting strange all evening."
He frowned.
"I'm not acting strange."
"You are."
"I'm just tired."
"No."
Her voice came out much smaller than she intended.
"You're upset."
He let out a quiet breath.
Without another word, he flicked on the indicator and guided the car into a small parking area overlooking a quiet park.
The engine fell silent.
For the first time since they'd left the wedding, he turned fully toward her.
"What made you think I'm angry?"
She looked down at her hands. "I don't know."
"You do."
She swallowed. "I just..."
His expression softened immediately.
"Hey."
She still couldn't meet his eyes.
"I keep trying to think about what I did."
"You didn't do anything."
"I must have."
"You didn't."
She shook her head. "Woo..."
He waited patiently.
"You've hardly looked at me."
His eyebrows drew together.
"What?"
"You've been smiling at everyone else."
"I—"
"But not really at me."
He stared at her for a long second.
Then he let out the smallest, most disbelieving laugh.
"You think I'm angry with you?"
She nodded.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
"No."
Another shake of his head.
"No."
His voice grew softer.
"Y/N..."
Finally she looked up.
He was already looking at her.
There wasn't an ounce of irritation in his expression.
Only concern.
"I could never be angry with you."
She blinked.
"I mean that."
He smiled sadly.
"Even if I tried."
Her lips trembled.
"I don't think I've ever really been angry with you."
A tiny laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
It came out strangely shaky.
"You steal my fries."
"I know."
"You constantly banter with me."
"I definitely do."
"And even then..."
He smiled.
"I still couldn't stay angry."
That should have made her laugh.
Instead, to her complete horror, tears blurred her vision.
"...Oh no."
She laughed weakly as she hurriedly wiped at her face.
"No, no, no."
"Y/N..."
"I'm crying."
"I can see that."
She covered her face.
"This is so embarrassing."
"It isn't."
"It absolutely is."
She laughed again.
Another tear escaped anyway.
"I don't even know why I'm crying."
He reached across the center console, hesitating for a brief moment before gently placing a hand over hers.
"You don't have to apologize."
"I'm not apologizing."
"You look like you're about to."
"...Maybe."
She took a shaky breath.
"I just..."
Everything she'd been trying to keep inside for the last twenty-four hours suddenly pushed to the surface all at once.
"I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong."
"You didn't."
"If it's the arrangement..."
"It isn't."
"If you're tired of pretending..."
"I'm not."
"If seeing Seonghwa tonight made things weird..."
"It didn't."
She looked at him helplessly.
"Then I don't understand."
"You don't have to."
"But I do."
Another tear slipped free.
"I made you kiss me."
His eyes widened slightly.
"You didn't make me do anything."
"I suggested it."
He nodded once.
"For practice. And then..." She looked away. "It wasn't just practice anymore."
The words came out so quietly she almost hoped he hadn't heard them.
He didn't interrupt.
Didn't rush her.
Didn't look away.
So she kept going.
"I've been trying to pretend it didn't affect me."
Her laugh broke halfway through.
"But it did."
Silence.
"I keep thinking about it."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"And I keep thinking about you."
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"There."
She laughed bitterly through her tears.
"I said it."
The relief she expected never came.
Only embarrassment.
"I know this wasn't part of the plan."
She couldn't look at him anymore.
"I know we were only pretending."
Her voice became smaller with every sentence.
"And you probably noticed."
Still silence.
"You probably realized I started looking at you differently."
She shook her head.
"I tried not to."
"I really tried."
Another shaky breath.
"But I couldn't."
She wiped quickly at her eyes again.
"I figured..."
She forced out a small smile that felt impossibly fragile.
"...maybe that's why you've been so quiet."
Her chest tightened.
"Because you noticed."
She stared at the dashboard.
"And now you don't know how to tell me you don't feel the same."
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"You don't want to hurt me."
The car fell completely silent.
For the first time all evening, Y/N wished Wooyoung would say something.
Anything.
Even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear.
Because somehow, waiting for his answer felt even scarier than confessing in the first place.
Wooyoung forgot how to breathe.
He simply sat there.
One hand still resting loosely over hers.
The other gripping the steering wheel.
His mind had gone completely blank.
Y/N kept looking down, unable to meet his eyes.
„…I know this wasn’t part of the plan.“
Her voice was so quiet it almost broke him.
„I know we were only pretending.“
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
She mistook his silence.
Of course she did.
„I just…“ she whispered, nervously rubbing at her eyes. „I think I started liking you.“
His heart skipped.
„No.“
She gave a tiny shake of her head.
„I don’t think.“
A sad little laugh escaped her.
„I know.“
She sniffled.
„I just didn’t realize it until yesterday.“
Yesterday.
The kiss.
„It all made sense after that.“
She smiled, though it looked painfully forced.
„I couldn’t stop thinking about you.“
Wooyoung still couldn’t form a sentence.
His brain was trying to process approximately seven hundred thoughts at once.
She thought…
He didn’t…
She thought…
He wanted to reject her?
„…It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,“ she continued softly.
His head snapped toward her.
„No.“
She smiled again.
„It’s really okay.“
„No.“
„We’ve been friends for years.“
„No.“
„I don’t want to lose that.“
She took a shaky breath.
„We can just pretend this never happened.“
No.
„I’ll get over it.“
Absolutely not.
„We’ll still go to Woosan every Friday.“
His thoughts were sprinting in every possible direction.
She liked him.
She liked him.
She liked him.
Then another realization crashed into the first.
Seonghwa.
He suddenly remembered standing across the reception hall, watching that ridiculously handsome man make Y/N laugh.
Remembered the knot in his stomach.
The irrational certainty that she deserved someone calmer.
Someone smoother.
Someone elegant.
Someone…Like Seonghwa.
He had spent the entire evening convincing himself that he had already lost before he’d even admitted he wanted a chance.
And all that time…
Y/N had been sitting beside him in the car, convinced he was trying to figure out how to reject her.
The absurdity of it hit him all at once.
A laugh escaped him.
Then another.
He leaned back against the headrest, covering his eyes with one hand as another disbelieving laugh slipped out.
„I can’t believe this…“ Across from him, Y/N went very still. „…You’re laughing.“
His laughter stopped immediately.
She looked hurt.
„Oh.“ She nodded once. „I get it.“
„No.“
She reached for the door handle.
„I shouldn’t have said anything.“
„No, no, no.“
He caught her wrist gently before she could open the door.
„Y/N.“
She refused to look at him.
„I’m sorry.“
„What?“
„I made things awkward.“
He stared at her for a second.
Then, before he could overthink it, he turned fully toward her.
Carefully, he cupped her face in both hands.
She froze.
His thumbs brushed away the tears she hadn’t even realized were still falling.
Finally, she looked up.
Her eyes were red.
Confused.
Worried.
His chest ached.
„I wasn’t laughing at you.“
She searched his face.
„You weren’t?“
He shook his head.
„I was laughing at myself.“
„…What?“
He let out another quiet, incredulous laugh.
„I’ve been an idiot.“
She frowned.
„I spent the entire reception convincing myself that you were going to leave with Seonghwa.“
Her eyebrows shot up.
„…What?“
„I was jealous.“
The words came out easier than he expected.
„So unbelievably jealous.“
She blinked.
„I kept watching the two of you talk.“
„I…“
„And all I could think was…“
He smiled sheepishly.
„…that he looked exactly like the kind of guy you’d actually fall for.“
She stared at him.
„He knew you from high school.“
He nodded.
„You laughed with him.“
„I…“
„You had history.“
Another helpless laugh escaped him.
„And then he mentioned those flings.“
He groaned, dropping his forehead for a second before looking back at her.
„I thought…“
He rubbed the back of his neck.
„I don’t know what I thought.“
„I just…“
He smiled weakly.
„I suddenly felt like the fake boyfriend.“
Y/N looked completely stunned.
„I was sitting there trying to act normal while my brain was screaming.“
He laughed again.
„And then I got us into the car thinking I just needed to survive the drive home.“
She whispered his name.
„Woo…“
„And then…“
He looked directly into her eyes.
„…you confessed.“
Silence settled between them.
His thumbs were still resting lightly against her cheeks.
„You thought I was trying to figure out how to reject you.“
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
„I wasn’t.“
His smile softened.
„I was trying to figure out how to tell you that I’d spent the last hour wondering if you were about to realize Seonghwa was a much better option than me.“
For a moment she simply stared at him.
Then she laughed.
A tiny, watery laugh.
„You’re kidding.“
„I wish I were.“
She shook her head in disbelief.
„We’re both idiots.“
„The biggest.“
Another silence.
This one felt completely different.
Lighter.
Warmer.
„So…“ she said quietly.
„So.“
„You… like me?“
He smiled.
„I’ve been trying to figure out when it happened.“
„And?“
„I don’t know.“
He thought for a moment.
„Maybe it was somewhere between stealing your fries and watching you cry at weddings.“
She laughed again.
„I do not cry that much.“
„You absolutely do.“
She rolled her eyes through a smile.
„There he is.“
„There who is?“
„My annoying friend.“
He leaned forward just a fraction.
„I’d like to apply for a promotion.“
She looked at him, her cheeks still damp with tears.
„…A promotion?“
He nodded.
„From fake boyfriend…“
His voice dropped into something quieter.
„…to real one.“
For a heartbeat neither of them moved.
Then Y/N smiled.
Not the polite smile she’d worn all evening.
Not the nervous one from a few minutes ago.
Just… Y/N.
The smile he had apparently fallen in love with without even noticing.
„I think,“ she whispered, „I’d like that.“
He smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.
„Good.“
„Good?“
„I’ve been wanting to do this properly all evening.“
She tilted her head.
„What do you mean?“
Instead of answering, he closed the small distance between them.
This kiss wasn’t practice.
There was no audience waiting to be convinced.
No family watching from across a dance floor.
No reason to pretend.
It was gentle.
Unhurried.
When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead lightly against hers and let out a quiet laugh.
„So…“
„So?“
„We’re going to have a very difficult conversation explaining this to Hongjoong.“
Y/N laughed.
„He is never going to let us live this down.“
„No.“
Wooyoung grinned. „Especially because he was right.“
„Oh, absolutely not.“
„He was.“
„We’re never telling him that.“
Wooyoung chuckled. „Deal.“
Outside, the night remained quiet around the parked car.
Inside, the silence had finally become the kind they both knew again.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
The wedding invitation landed on the coffee table with a dramatic thud.
Wooyoung looked up from where he was stretched out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap.
„…Should I be worried?“
Y/N remained standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the cream-colored envelope as though it had personally offended her.
„I think I’m cursed.“
He paused the movie. „Who is it this time?“
She sighed. „My cousin.“
„You’ve said that before.“
„I have a lot of cousins.“
„I’m beginning to think your family tree is just one very enthusiastic forest.“
She dropped onto the couch beside him with another exaggerated sigh.
„I don’t even know where they keep coming from.“
Wooyoung reached for the invitation before she could.
He carefully opened the envelope while she watched with narrowed eyes.
„Hm.“
He nodded thoughtfully. „Fancy venue.“
She folded her arms. „Mhm.“
„Open bar.“
„Mhm.“
„Plus one.“
She groaned dramatically, letting herself fall sideways until her head landed on his shoulder.
„Don’t say it.“
„I’m going to say it.“
„Please don’t.“
He smiled down at her. „So…“
He held up the invitation. „Need a date?“
She looked up at him.
For exactly two seconds, she managed to keep a straight face.
Then she burst into laughter. „You are unbelievable.“
„I’ve been told.“
„You know…“
She poked his chest. „You’re actually really expensive.“
His eyebrows rose. „Oh?“
„Mhm.“
„I’ve retired.“
„You have?“
He nodded solemnly. „I no longer provide professional fake dating services.“
„What a shame.“
„It is.“
„I heard you were the best.“
„I was.“
She grinned. „How tragic.“
He gently nudged her forehead with his own.
„I only attend weddings for one client these days.“
She tilted her head. „And who’s that?“
He smiled, the kind of smile that still made her heart stumble despite seeing it every single day.
„My favorite one.“
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t stop smiling.
„That was smooth.“
„I know.“
„You practiced that.“
„I absolutely did.“
She laughed before leaning up to kiss him.
Three months later, she still occasionally caught herself smiling afterward.
„You know,“ she murmured, settling back against him, „this isn’t exactly how I pictured us ending up.“
„No?“
„I thought we’d survive one wedding.“
„Mhm.“
„Then you’d happily return to your normal life.“
He looked at her with exaggerated offense. „You make it sound like dating you is a burden.“
„Oh?“
„I happen to enjoy dating you.“
„You do?“
„I’ve become quite attached.“
She smiled. „I noticed.“
He reached for another handful of popcorn.
„I still think the funniest part is that everyone knew before we did.“
Y/N groaned into his shoulder. „Don’t remind me.“
„Hongjoong still brings it up.“
„Every Friday.“
„‘I told you so,‘“
Wooyoung imitated in a surprisingly accurate Hongjoong impression.
„‘You two shared one brain cell for weeks.‘“
She laughed. „He wasn’t wrong.“
„No.“
„He was painfully right.“
Wooyoung sighed dramatically. „I hate when he’s right.“
„So do I.“
The two of them dissolved into quiet laughter.
For a while, they simply sat there.
The movie remained paused.
The unopened popcorn bowl rested forgotten between them.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
Inside, everything felt wonderfully ordinary.
No pretending.
No rehearsing stories about how they had met.
No memorizing relatives‘ names.
No wondering whether holding hands looked convincing enough.
Just…Them.
Wooyoung glanced down at the invitation again.
„So…“
„Hm?“
„When is this wedding?“
She reached over and took the card from him. „Saturday in three weeks.“
He nodded once. „Perfect.“
She looked at him suspiciously. „Why ‚perfect‘?“
A grin slowly spread across his face. „I’ve been meaning to show up at one of your family weddings as your actual boyfriend.“
Y/N laughed. „You’ve already attended four.“
He shook his head. „Those don’t count.“
She frowned. „They absolutely count.“
„I was acting.“
„You were a little too good at acting.“
He smiled. „Maybe.“
Then he gently intertwined his fingers with hers.
„But this time…“ He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. „…I don’t have to pretend anymore.“
Y/N looked down at their joined hands.
The same hands that had first linked together to fool curious relatives.
The same hands that had slowly become the easiest place in the world to belong.
She squeezed his fingers. „Good.“
He looked at her. „Why?“
A smile tugged at her lips. „Because I wasn’t planning on hiring anyone else.“
Wooyoung laughed. „I would’ve been deeply offended.“
She leaned against him again as the movie finally resumed.
Another wedding. Another weekend with her enormous family.
Only this time… She wasn’t bringing a fake boyfriend.
She was bringing the man who had accidentally fallen in love while pretending to be one.
After one too many family weddings filled with awkward questions and constant reminders of her cheating ex, Y/N accepts Wooyoung’s offer to pose as her boyfriend. What starts as a favor between friends quickly becomes far more complicated as stolen glances, fake kisses, and one wedding after another blur the line between pretending and falling in love.
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Trope(s): Fake Dating, Wedding Romance, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Found Family
Featuring: ATEEZ OT8 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho), Y/N's chaotic extended family, Daniel (the ex)
Main Masterlist | Wooyoungs Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
This is Part 2
Wooyoung had expected a church.
He had expected flowers.
He had expected at least one crying relative before the ceremony had even begun.
He had not expected nearly two hundred guests.
„…Your family is huge,“ he muttered as they walked across the courtyard toward the venue.
Y/N let out a nervous laugh.
„I told you.“
„You said ‚a lot.‘“
„I underestimated.“
„You absolutely did.“
She smiled, but he noticed how tightly she was gripping her clutch.
Without really thinking about it, he nudged her shoulder.
„Hey.“
She looked up.
„Breathe.“
„I am breathing.“
„Barely.“
„I hate that you can tell.“
„I’ve known you for years.“
She rolled her eyes.
„Unfortunately.“
„There she is.“
He grinned.
„I was worried I’d lost my favorite grump.“
„I’m not grumpy.“
„You threatened to fake appendicitis to get out of today.“
„I sadly alreasy used that excuse..“
„Exactly.“
She laughed, shaking her head.
The sound relaxed her shoulders just enough that he counted it as a victory.
As they stepped inside, they were immediately swallowed by the crowd.
Guests greeted one another.
Children zigzagged between adults.
Someone almost walked into Wooyoung while carrying a tower of champagne glasses.
Y/N sighed in relief.
„They haven’t noticed us.“
„Hm?“
„They’re all busy.“
She looked around.
„I usually get intercepted before I even make it inside.“
Wooyoung followed her gaze.
No one seemed particularly interested in them.
The bride’s side was busy taking photos.
Several older relatives were already deep in conversation.
For the first time that afternoon, Y/N looked like she could actually enjoy herself.
„See?“ Wooyoung said quietly. „So far, so good.“
She smiled. „So far.“
The ceremony itself was beautiful.
Wooyoung had attended enough weddings to know they tended to follow the same rhythm, but watching Emma beam at the end of the aisle as she reached her fiancé made him smile despite himself.
Halfway through the vows, he glanced sideways.
Y/N was already smiling.
When the bride started crying, Y/N’s eyes immediately shimmered too.
He chuckled under his breath. „You cry at every wedding, don’t you?“
She sniffed. „I do not.“
„You literally have tears in your eyes.“
„They’re… happy tears.“
„So you admit it.“
She elbowed him lightly without looking away from the ceremony.
He smiled.
Cute.
…
Wait.
Cute?
He frowned slightly before turning his attention back to the front.
The reception hall was even busier than the church.
People were milling around while staff prepared the food.
Their table happened to be one of the first to fill, though at the moment it only had two occupied seats.
Y/N looked at the small card in front of her place. „Table Six.“
„The famous Table Six.“
She groaned. „Don’t remind me.“
Wooyoung pulled out her chair before sitting beside her.
„So.“
„So?“
„I’ll get us drinks.“
„You don’t have to.“
„I know.“
He smiled.
„But if your scary aunt appears while I’m gone, I want to at least know you have something to throw at her.“
She laughed. „Please don’t make me spit out my drink before I even have one.“
„No promises.“
He stood, then hesitated. „Anything specific?“
„White wine?“
„You got it.“
As she thanked him, she reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against his hand.
It lasted barely a second.
Enough for him to automatically curl his hand around hers.
It wasn’t planned.
It just…Happened.
Her hand was noticeably smaller than his.
Warm.
Ridiculously soft.
She blinked in surprise.
„So… wine?“ she asked.
Wooyoung stared for half a heartbeat before letting go.
„Right.“
Wine.
Of course.
Why had that felt…Odd?
He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked toward the bar.
Maybe Hongjoong really had gotten into his head.
It was just a hand.
Friends held hands all the time.
Well…
Maybe not all the time.
Still.
It meant nothing.
Probably.
Balancing two glasses carefully, Wooyoung made his way back toward Table Six.
From several meters away, he noticed it was no longer empty.
Every seat had been filled.
An older woman with silver hair sat directly opposite Y/N.
Beside her was a woman with perfectly styled blonde hair who looked as though judging people recreationally was her favorite hobby.
A middle-aged couple sat beside them.
And…
Wooyoung slowed.
A man around their age.
Dark suit.
Neatly styled hair.
Handsome enough that he clearly knew it.
Daniel.
He recognized him immediately.
Years ago, when Y/N and Daniel had still been together, Wooyoung had run into them a handful of times whenever the friend groups overlapped.
Not often.
Just enough to remember how strangely possessive the guy had been.
As Wooyoung got closer, he noticed something else.
Y/N wasn’t speaking.
She was smiling politely.
Too politely.
Her shoulders were tense.
Her fingers twisted together beneath the table.
Daniel was leaning toward her.
„…I’m just saying,“ he was saying with an easy smile, „people make mistakes.“
Wooyoung saw Y/N’s jaw tighten.
„I think we’ve already discussed this.“
Her aunt sighed dramatically.
„Daniel has matured so much.“
Daniel’s mother nodded enthusiastically.
„He talks about you all the time.“
„Oh, for heaven’s sake,“ Y/N muttered.
Her grandmother reached across the table.
„You always looked so lovely together.“
Wooyoung didn’t think.
Years of pretending clicked into place before he even realized it.
His posture changed.
His smile softened.
His expression warmed.
The actor stepped forward.
He slipped naturally beside Y/N’s chair.
„There you are.“
Every head turned.
He smiled at Y/N as though she were the only person in the room.
„I’ve been looking everywhere for you.“
Without hesitation, he set one glass in front of her before gently resting a hand against the back of her chair.
„You looked like you could use this.“
Relief flashed across her face so quickly that he almost missed it.
„There you are,“ she echoed softly.
„I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.“
„I got distracted.“
He chuckled.
„The bartender wanted recommendations.“
Only then did he look around the table.
„Oh.“
He smiled politely.
„I interrupted.“
Y/N recovered instantly.
„No.“ She stood. „Everyone…“
Her eyes met his for the briefest moment.
„…This is Wooyoung. My boyfriend.“
The word hung in the air.
Wooyoung could almost hear the collective silence.
Her grandmother blinked.
Her aunt’s mouth actually fell open.
Daniel stared. „…Wooyoung?“
Recognition flashed across his face.
„No way.“
His expression darkened almost immediately.
„I know you.“
Wooyoung smiled pleasantly. „We’ve met.“
„You used to hang around with her friends.“
„Mhm.“
Daniel looked between the two of them.
Then he laughed once. A short, disbelieving sound.
„You’re dating him?“
Wooyoung felt Y/N tense beside him.
Before she could answer, he gently reached for her hand.
She looked at him in surprise.
He intertwined their fingers effortlessly, giving them the smallest reassuring squeeze.
Professional.
Natural.
Believable.
He smiled. „We’ve been together for a little while now.“
Daniel’s jaw tightened. „So that’s why you never answered my messages.“
Y/N frowned. „…I never answered because I didn’t want to.“
Daniel ignored her completely.
Instead, he looked directly at Wooyoung.
„So you’ve just been waiting around for us to break up?“
Wooyoung almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he tilted his head with practiced calm. „No.“
His smile never wavered. „I was simply smart enough not to cheat on her.“
The table fell completely silent.
Beside him, Y/N made a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort.
Daniel’s face reddened immediately.
Wooyoung kept smiling.
Friendly.
Warm.
Perfectly polite.
Exactly the kind of boyfriend every grandmother would adore.
And exactly the kind of man Daniel was already beginning to hate.
Y/N had always considered herself fairly good at reading people.
She could usually tell within a few minutes whether someone was nervous, annoyed, trying too hard, or simply being polite.
Which was exactly why watching Wooyoung slip so effortlessly into the role of her boyfriend left her completely speechless.
It was like watching someone flip a switch.
One second, he had been the same Wooyoung who had handed her a suspiciously sour grape only a few days ago.
The next, he was… this.
Warm.
Attentive.
Charming without being overbearing.
He never interrupted anyone, but somehow always seemed to become the center of the conversation.
And the worst part?
None of it felt fake.
„So, Wooyoung,“ her grandmother asked after the initial introductions had settled, „what do you do for work?“
Y/N braced herself.
Wooyoung smiled politely.
„I work in a leading role in marketing.“
Her grandmother nodded approvingly.
„Oh, that’s wonderful.“
„It keeps me busy.“
„I imagine it pays well.“
He laughed softly. „I can’t complain.“
That was such a Wooyoung answer.
Not boastful.
Not awkward.
Just enough information without sounding arrogant.
Her aunt leaned forward.
„And how did you two meet?“
Y/N almost opened her mouth before Wooyoung beat her to it.
„Through mutual friends.“
He looked over at her, smiling in that soft, affectionate way that almost made her forget this was all pretend.
„I kept seeing her at game nights.“
„Game nights?“ her aunt asked.
He nodded. „I thought she was intimidating.“
Y/N nearly choked on her wine. „…Excuse me?“
„You always looked so serious.“
„I was concentrating!“
„On Uno.“
„There is strategy involved.“
He laughed. „I found that out later.“
Her grandmother smiled. „And then?“
Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck as though he were embarrassed.
„I kept hoping she’d sit next to me.“
Y/N stared at him.
That…That had definitely not happened.
„I had to work up the courage to ask her out.“
Her aunt actually let out a tiny sigh.
„Oh, that’s adorable.“
Y/N blinked.
Adorable?
This woman had once described a proposal as „acceptable.“
She did not use words like adorable.
„I don’t know,“ Wooyoung continued with an easy smile. „I just always thought she had the prettiest laugh.“
Y/N almost dropped her fork.
What?
She turned to look at him.
He didn’t even glance her way.
If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed every word.
Actually…She almost did.
„You laugh with your whole face,“ he added. „It’s nice.“
Heat crept into her cheeks.
She resisted the urge to kick him under the table.
Only because she wasn’t sure whether he’d somehow turn that into something romantic too.
Her grandmother looked positively delighted.
„I always said she smiles too little.“
„I disagree.“
Wooyoung looked at Y/N then.
„I think she smiles a lot.“
His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled.
„Mostly when she’s making fun of me.“
„I do not make fun of you that often.“
„You called me unbearable on 5 minutes ago.“
„You were unbearable 5 minutes ago.“
Her aunt laughed.
Actually laughed.
Y/N almost looked under the table to make sure she’d been replaced by an identical twin.
Daniel, meanwhile, had grown suspiciously quiet.
Good.
She hoped it stayed that way.
The more the evening went on, the more impossible the situation became.
Wooyoung helped one of her elderly relatives carry an extra chair.
He complimented her grandmother’s brooch.
He remembered everyone’s names after hearing them exactly once.
Her little cousins adored him within ten minutes because he somehow knew how to fold napkins into little rabbits.
„Where did you even learn that?“ she whispered.
„I got bored during a work seminar.“
„Of course you did.“
He grinned. „Useful, wasn’t it?“
She hated that it actually was.
At one point her uncle asked about football.
Wooyoung somehow managed to hold a ten-minute conversation despite the fact that she was almost certain he couldn’t name more than three players.
Another cousin discovered they liked the same video games.
Her aunt complimented his manners.
Her grandmother asked if he wanted the family recipe for potato salad.
The family recipe.
People had married into this family without receiving that recipe.
Y/N stared across the table in disbelief.
How?
How was he doing this?
„You’ve gone very quiet.“
She looked up.
Wooyoung was smiling at her.
„What?“
„I asked if you’d like more bread.“
„Oh.“
She blinked. „Yes, please.“
He handed her the basket first before serving himself.
Her grandmother noticed.
Of course she noticed.
„What a gentleman.“
„Oh, Grandma…“
„No, she’s right.“ Her aunt nodded approvingly. „It’s nice to see young men with manners.“
Y/N looked at Wooyoung.
He looked back.
Then, ever so slightly, he winked.
She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
Professional fake boyfriend.
Right.
Apparently, he really had been good at this.
By the time dessert had been served, the band started playing.
Conversations slowly faded as more and more guests made their way toward the dance floor.
Emma and Lucas shared the first dance.
Soon after, everyone else was invited to join.
Y/N had just taken another bite of cake when Wooyoung stood.
He offered her his hand.
„Dance with me.“
She looked at it. „…Really?“
„Really.“
„I haven’t danced since…“
„Your other cousin’s wedding?“
She stared. „How do you know that?“
„You told us.“
„I did?“
„Last Christmas.“
She had.
Apparently.
„You remember weird things.“
„I remember important things.“
He wiggled his fingers. „So?“
She sighed dramatically before placing her hand in his.
„Fine.“
He smiled triumphantly. „I knew you’d say yes.“
„You literally gave me no choice.“
„I gave you plenty.“
„No.“
He led her toward the dance floor.
The music was slow enough that couples naturally moved closer together.
Y/N looked around nervously.
„I feel like everyone is watching.“
„They’re not.“
„They definitely are.“
„They’re watching the bride.“
„They’re absolutely watching us.“
„Probably.“
She shot him a look. „You’re not helping.“
He laughed. „Sorry.“
His hand settled carefully against the middle of her back while their other hands remained linked between them.
Not too low.
Not too high.
Respectful.
Comfortable.
He really had done this before.
„You know…“ he said after a moment. „I think your grandmother likes me.“
She snorted. „I think she loves you.“
„I got the potato salad recipe.“
„I know.“
„I’m honored.“
„You should be.“
He smiled. „I’ll frame it.“
She laughed, shaking her head. „You’ve been unbelievable today.“
„So I’ve passed?“
„You’ve passed with distinction.“
„I knew all those university jobs would come in handy.“
She smiled up at him.
„I still can’t believe people paid you for this.“
„I was worth every won.“
„There it is again.“
„What?“
„The ego.“
„My confidence.“
„Your ego.“
„My confidence.“
She rolled her eyes.
„You’ll never admit it.“
„Never.“
They fell into a comfortable silence, swaying gently with the music.
Y/N realized she wasn’t nervous anymore.
Not because her family had suddenly changed.
But because every time someone approached their table, Wooyoung somehow redirected the conversation before anyone could mention Daniel.
Every time she looked overwhelmed, he noticed.
Every time she seemed uncomfortable, he found an excuse to make her laugh.
She glanced up at him.
He was looking toward the dance floor, smiling at something one of the flower girls was doing.
The warm lights caught the soft waves of his hair.
His suit fit him annoyingly well.
His smile reached all the way to his eyes.
Had he always looked like that?
She frowned almost imperceptibly.
Of course he had.
She’d known him for years.
She knew exactly what he looked like.
Didn’t she?
Then why did he suddenly seem…
Different?
Or maybe…
Not different.
Maybe she had simply never paid attention.
She knew he was funny.
She knew he was loud.
She knew he loved teasing people.
But she had never really noticed the way he instinctively matched her pace whenever they walked somewhere together.
Or how he always made sure she had a drink before getting one himself.
Or how naturally he checked whether she was comfortable without making it obvious.
How had she missed that?
„You’ve got that wrinkle again.“
She blinked.
„…What wrinkle?“
„The thinking wrinkle.“
He smiled knowingly.
„You’ve been staring at me for at least thirty seconds.“
Heat rushed to her face.
„I was not.“
„You absolutely were.“
„I was thinking.“
„About?“
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Wooyoung laughed.
„I’ll take that as a compliment.“
„Oh, don’t flatter yourself.“
„Too late.“
She rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.
„What??“
„My annoying friend is back.“
His grin widened.
„There she is.“
„My favorite grump.“
For some reason, hearing him say it made her smile.
And she couldn’t quite figure out why.
If someone had told Y/N a month ago that she would voluntarily spend three consecutive weekends at weddings, she would have laughed in their face.
If someone had told her she would actually look forward to them…
She would have recommended therapy.
Yet here she was.
Three weddings down.
One still to go.
And somehow, the weddings themselves had become the highlight of her week.
Well…
Not exactly the weddings.
The company.
„You’ve been smiling at your phone for the last five minutes.“
Y/N looked up from the bar.
„I have not.“
Across from her, Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.
„You literally just did it again.“
She quickly locked her screen.
„I was reading something funny.“
„Hm.“
San placed another round of drinks on the table.
„Sure.“
Friday nights at Woosan had become sacred.
The bar was closed to customers after midnight, leaving only the familiar group spread around the largest booth.
Cards littered the table.
Half-empty glasses stood between them.
Someone had lost a game badly enough that Mingi currently had a cocktail umbrella tucked behind one ear.
Nobody questioned it anymore.
„I’m telling you,“ Wooyoung said dramatically from beside her, „that was not my fault.“
„It absolutely was,“ Yeosang replied.
„You changed the rules halfway through.“
„I adapted.“
„You cheated.“
„I innovated.“
Y/N laughed into her drink.
„There he goes.“
Wooyoung turned toward her.
„What?“
„Using business words to justify cheating.“
„I prefer ‚creative problem solving.‘“
„You lost.“
„I lost creatively.“
She nudged his shoulder.
„You still lost.“
He gasped dramatically.
„I thought you were on my side.“
„I like winning.“
„I’ll remember this betrayal.“
„You won’t.“
„I absolutely will.“
He reached over and stole one of her fries.
She stared at him.
„…Really?“
He shrugged while eating it.
„Compensation.“
„For what?“
„Emotional damages.“
„You caused those.“
„I disagree.“
Without thinking, she reached over and stole one right back.
„There. We’re even.“
He smiled.
„No.“
He stole another.
She laughed and swatted his hand away.
Across the table, Hongjoong quietly leaned toward San.
„See?“
San nodded.
„I see.“
„They weren’t like this before.“
„Nope.“
„They’ve got their own little world now.“
„They really do.“
Mingi looked between the two of them.
„What are you whispering about?“
Hongjoong nodded subtly toward Y/N and Wooyoung.
„They’ve changed.“
Mingi watched for a moment.
Wooyoung was saying something quietly enough that only Y/N heard it.
She immediately burst into laughter.
He looked absurdly pleased with himself.
Then, without either of them noticing, he reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from where it had fallen into her face.
After one too many family weddings filled with awkward questions and constant reminders of her cheating ex, Y/N accepts Wooyoung’s offer to pose as her boyfriend. What starts as a favor between friends quickly becomes far more complicated as stolen glances, fake kisses, and one wedding after another blur the line between pretending and falling in love.
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Trope(s): Fake Dating, Wedding Romance, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Found Family
Featuring: ATEEZ OT8 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho), Y/N's chaotic extended family, Daniel (the ex)
Main Masterlist | Wooyoungs Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
This is Part 1
The first wedding invitation arrived in February.
Y/N stared at the elegant cream envelope lying on her kitchen counter as though it had personally insulted her. Gold foil lettering shimmered beneath the warm light, announcing what was undoubtedly a beautiful celebration of love.
She sighed. "Another one."
Her roommate poked her head into the kitchen with a bowl of cereal balanced in one hand. "Who's getting married this time?"
"My cousin, Emma."
"The one that taught us how to make cocktails at Christmas?"
"No. The other one."
"You have another Emma?"
"No, another cousin."
"Oh."
There was a brief pause before her roommate pointed at the envelope. "You're making that face again."
"What face?"
"The one that says you'd rather eat drywall than attend whatever is inside that envelope."
Y/N dropped her forehead onto the cool countertop. "It isn't the wedding."
"No?"
"I actually like weddings."
"So what's the problem?"
"The people."
"The bride and groom?"
"My family."
Her roommate nodded immediately. "Ah."
That single syllable carried enough understanding that Y/N almost laughed. "You know exactly what I mean."
"I do."
Every wedding followed the same pattern.
The ceremony would be beautiful.
The food would be good.
Someone would cry during the speeches. Children would run around covered in cake. Then, somewhere between dinner and dessert, an aunt she barely saw outside of family gatherings would appear with the smile.
"So," they would begin casually, "are you seeing anyone?"
If she answered no, they would exchange sympathetic looks as though she had just announced a terminal illness.
Then came the suggestions.
Have you tried dating apps?
My coworker's son is lovely.
You're too picky.
Maybe you should give Daniel another chance.
Daniel.
Just hearing his name made her eye twitch.
Daniel, who had somehow managed to cheat on her while also insisting he was "technically loyal." Daniel, who had cried harder over losing his gaming account than losing their three year relationship. Daniel, whom half her family still adored because he always remembered birthdays and helped carry groceries.
Apparently infidelity became much easier to overlook when the offender complimented Grandma's potato salad.
Her roommate leaned against the fridge. "You're thinking about him."
"I'm thinking about prison."
"For Daniel?"
"For whichever aunt mentions him first."
"Fair."
Y/N picked up the invitation and read it again.
Emma and Lucas request the pleasure of your company...
She genuinely wanted to celebrate with her cousin. She just wished the celebration didn't include being interrogated about her love life by every relative over forty-five.
"I should fake food poisoning."
"You used that excuse last Easter."
"I'll fake appendicitis."
"You still have the scar from when yours was actually removed."
"...Right."
"You could just tell them to mind their own business."
Y/N looked at her. "They're my family."
"So?"
"You've never met Aunt Sabine."
"No."
"She once cornered me in the bathroom to explain why women should marry before thirty because apparently our eggs start filing for retirement."
Her roommate blinked. "...Seriously?"
"I wish I were joking."
The silence that followed was interrupted by Y/N's phone buzzing.
A new message appeared.
Hongjoong: Friday. Drinks. Everyone's coming.
She smiled despite herself.
Finally. Something to look forward to that didn't involve uncomfortable conversations about her nonexistent boyfriend.
Friday evenings at Woosan's had become something of a tradition.
The small bar tucked away on a quiet street wasn't particularly fancy, but it had warm lighting, good music, and the kind of atmosphere that encouraged people to stay long after they had finished their drinks.
San stood behind the counter polishing glasses while Wooyoung loudly argued with a customer over whether pineapple belonged on pizza.
"It absolutely does," Wooyoung declared.
"It absolutely doesn't," the customer shot back.
San sighed. "I'm surrounded by children."
Hongjoong looked up from his menu as Y/N slid into the booth beside him.
"Perfect timing."
"For what?"
He pointed toward the argument. "They've been at this for seven minutes."
"Eight," Yeosang corrected without looking up from his phone.
Wooyoung noticed her then. "You."
She frowned. "Me?"
"Settle this."
"I refuse."
"Pineapple on pizza."
She didn't even hesitate. "It belongs."
Wooyoung gasped dramatically before pointing at the customer. "See? Vindication."
The poor man looked betrayed. "I thought she'd be reasonable."
"I am reasonable."
"No sane person likes warm pineapple."
She shrugged. "I also dip fries in milkshakes."
Wooyoung clutched his chest. "I've never felt more understood."
Laughter spread around the table.
It felt good.
Exactly what she needed after another exhausting week at work.
"So," Mingi asked once everyone had drinks, "what's new?"
Y/N took one sip before groaning.
"I got another wedding invitation."
The entire table immediately winced in sympathy.
Hongjoong nodded. "My condolences."
"It's one wedding."
"It never is."
She pointed at him. "Exactly."
He knew. They all knew.
Because every single time she returned from a family wedding she arrived with at least three new stories that sounded too ridiculous to be true.
"They're going to ask again?" San asked.
"When do they not?"
Wooyoung tilted his head. "About Daniel?"
She made a face. "Especially about Daniel."
"What is wrong with your family?"
"They liked him."
"He cheated."
"I know."
"On multiple occasions."
"I know."
"He literally flirted with another woman at your birthday dinner."
"I was there, Woo."
"And they still want you two together?"
She lifted her hands helplessly. "My grandmother keeps saying everyone deserves a second chance."
"What about a third?"
"Apparently those too."
Yeosang snorted into his drink.
Wooyoung looked genuinely horrified. "I've never even met this guy properly and I already dislike him."
Hongjoong leaned back. "So what's the strategy this time?"
"I smile."
"Mhm."
"I dodge questions."
"Classic."
"I escape to the bathroom every twenty minutes."
"A fan favorite."
"And then I drive home emotionally exhausted."
Wooyoung frowned. "That sounds terrible."
"It is."
She laughed, but there was something tired about it.
She was only twenty-seven.
She had a job she loved.
Wonderful friends.
A cozy apartment.
She wasn't unhappy.
Yet somehow every family gathering made her feel like she'd failed some invisible exam because she happened to be single.
"I just wish," she admitted quietly, "they'd stop acting like being alone means something is wrong with me."
The table fell silent.
San reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "There isn't."
"Obviously," Mingi agreed.
"You know that," Hongjoong added.
"I do."
She really did. Most days.
It was just difficult to keep believing it after hearing the same comments over and over again.
A few seconds passed before Wooyoung suddenly snapped his fingers. "I have an idea."
Hongjoong immediately groaned. "That's never good."
"I resent that."
"You should."
Wooyoung ignored him completely. "You need a boyfriend."
The table burst into laughter.
"Brilliant," Y/N deadpanned. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"A fake one."
She blinked. "...What?"
"I mean it."
"What?."
"You should."
Hongjoong slowly looked at Wooyoung. "...Didn't you actually do that once?"
Wooyoung froze. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," Hongjoong grinned.
Mingi's eyes widened. "Wait."
San started laughing before anyone had even explained. "No way."
Y/N looked between them.
"What am I missing?"
Hongjoong rested his elbows on the table. "Tell her."
"There is nothing to tell."
"There absolutely is."
Yeosang finally looked up from his phone.
"You might as well. They're not letting this go."
Wooyoung sighed the sigh of a man about to have his embarrassing past exposed.
"...University was expensive."
Everyone waited.
"My acting major wasn't exactly paying for itself. Thats why I also changed to marketing." He muttered the last part.
"And?"
"And someone asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend for a family reunion."
Y/N stared. "You what?"
"It paid five hundred thousand won."
Her mouth fell open. "For one day?"
He nodded. "I was a broke student."
Hongjoong grinned. "So naturally he kept doing it."
"I had rent!"
"How many fake girlfriends did you have?" Mingi asked.
Wooyoung looked almost offended. "I was very selective."
"That's not an answer."
"...Seven."
Y/N nearly choked on her drink. "Seven?"
"Spread over four years!"
San was laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
"It wasn't weird," Wooyoung defended.
"I had contracts."
"You had contracts?"
"I am a professional."
That only made everyone laugh harder.
Y/N looked at him in complete disbelief. "You seriously pretended to date people?"
"I was excellent at it."
"You actually got paid?"
"I even had repeat clients."
She covered her face. "I cannot believe this."
"It funded my degree." He sounded absurdly proud of himself.
"And," Hongjoong added with a smirk, "he was apparently terrifyingly convincing."
Wooyoung straightened in his seat. "I researched family trees."
Y/N laughed. "You researched what?"
"I memorized relatives, anniversaries, favorite foods. I even learned how to ballroom dance because one client's grandmother loved dancing."
The entire table stared at him. "What?"
"It improved customer satisfaction."
Y/N couldn't stop laughing. "You're insane."
"Maybe."
He shrugged before taking another sip of his drink.
"But your family would never mention Daniel again."
She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Sure."
"I'm serious."
Their eyes met across the table.
For the first time that evening, Wooyoung wasn't joking.
"I'm serious," he repeated. "If it'll get your family off your back, I'll come with you."
The laughter around the table slowly faded.
Y/N searched his face for the punchline.
It never came.
The offer should have sounded ridiculous.
Instead, it refused to leave her mind.
Y/N spent the entire weekend replaying the conversation in her head while simultaneously trying to convince herself that it had been a joke.
Surely it had been.
Wooyoung joked about everything.
He joked when he was happy.
He joked when he was annoyed.
He had once convinced an entire café that he was allergic to Tuesdays simply because the barista had asked how his week was going.
There was no way he had been serious.
„…Right?“ she muttered to herself.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
Wooyoung: Morning.
Another message appeared almost immediately.
Wooyoung: Have you decided?
She frowned.
You: Decided what?
The typing bubble appeared.
Wooyoung: Whether you’re letting me save you from your aunt.
She stared at the screen.
So… he had been serious.
A smile tugged at her lips before she quickly suppressed it.
You: Woo, I’m not making you spend your Saturday pretending to be my boyfriend.
His reply came within seconds.
Wooyoung: Why not?
You: Because it’s weird.
Wooyoung: I used to get paid for weirder.
She laughed out loud in the middle of the office.
A few heads turned in her direction.
She cleared her throat and looked back at her monitor.
You: I’m serious.
Wooyoung: Me too.
Another message.
Wooyoung: Besides, you helped me move.
She rolled her eyes.
You: You have to stop bringing that up.
Wooyoung: Never. You carried three boxes. Heavy boxes.
You: They contained pillows.
Wooyoung: Really heavy pillows
She bit back another laugh.
How was he this impossible through text?
After a moment she typed again.
You: I still couldn’t ask you to do that.
There was a longer pause this time.
When his answer came, it was surprisingly simple.
Wooyoung: You’re not asking. I’m offering.
That should have made saying no easier.
Instead, it somehow made it harder.
Wednesday evening found her standing in front of Hongjoong’s apartment with two grocery bags digging into her fingers.
Movie night.
A tradition that mostly consisted of everyone claiming they were going to watch a film before talking over it for three hours.
She barely had time to knock before Mingi opened the door. „You’re late.“
„I am three minutes late.“
„We were worried.“
„No, you weren’t.“
„We finished the chips.“
„…Now I understand the emergency.“
Laughter echoed from the living room.
She slipped off her shoes and walked inside.
San and Yeosang were arguing over which blanket belonged to whom.
Hongjoong was trying to untangle an HDMI cable.
Wooyoung looked up from the couch. „Hey.“
„Hi.“
It felt strangely… awkward.
Not because anything had happened.
Because now she knew he was apparently willing to accompany her to a family wedding.
He patted the empty seat beside him.
She hesitated for exactly one second before sitting down.
„You ignored my last message,“ he whispered.
„I was working.“
„You left me on read.“
„I was working.“
„You wounded me.“
She snorted. „You’ll survive.“
„I don’t know. It still hurts.“
He pressed a dramatic hand against his heart.
She elbowed him. „Oh.“
He looked delighted. „Physical violence already? That’s believable.“
„What?“
„If we’re pretending to date, you’ve already mastered the ‚annoyed girlfriend‘ part.“
She rolled her eyes. „We’re not pretending anything.“
„So that’s a yes?“
„No.“
„So… maybe?“
„No.“
„Hm.“
He nodded thoughtfully. „I hear uncertainty.“
„I hear selective hearing.“
Halfway through the movie, which absolutely nobody was paying attention to, Hongjoong muted the television.
„I have a question.“
„No,“ Wooyoung answered immediately.
„I haven’t asked it.“
„It’s probably about me.“
„It is.“
Wooyoung groaned.
Hongjoong looked at Y/N.
„So…“
She immediately knew where this was going.
„No.“
„You don’t even know the question.“
„I do.“
„You probably do.“
Mingi grinned. „I think she should let Woo do it.“
„Traitor,“ she muttered.
San nodded. „I agree.“
„You all agree?“
Yeosang looked up from his phone. „I mostly just want to watch him meet your family.“
Everyone laughed.
„It would be entertaining.“
„It would be a disaster.“
„It would be both,“ Hongjoong corrected.
Wooyoung folded his arms. „I’d do great.“
„You’d get us caught in five minutes.“
„I would not.“
„You don’t even know my birthday.“
He answered without missing a beat. „September seventeenth.“
Her mouth fell open. „…How do you know that?“
„You posted birthday cake pictures.“
„You remember that?“
„I remember everything.“
Hongjoong slowly pointed at him. „See? That’s what I’m talking about.“
Wooyoung shrugged. „I pay attention.“
Y/N looked at him for a moment longer than she meant to.
He wasn’t showing off.
He genuinely remembered little things about people.
She thought back to the countless times he had shown up to game nights with everyone’s favorite snacks.
The way he always asked San about his parents.
The fact that he somehow knew Mingi’s coffee order despite never drinking coffee himself.
Maybe that was why everyone liked him so quickly.
He made people feel seen.
„…Stop looking at me like that,“ Wooyoung said.
„Like what?“
„Like you’re realizing I’m secretly wonderful.“
She burst out laughing.
„There it is again.“
„There what is?“
„Your annoying ego.“
„My ego is perfectly reasonable.“
„It barely fits through doors.“
„It has excellent posture.“
By the end of the evening, everyone had somehow migrated into the kitchen.
Hongjoong was washing dishes.
San dried them.
Mingi had been banned from helping after dropping a glass.
Wooyoung leaned against the counter eating grapes directly from the bowl.
Without thinking, Y/N reached for one at the exact same time.
Their fingers bumped.
She looked up.
He looked down.
For half a second neither of them moved.
Then Wooyoung smiled. „You can have it.“
„It’s your grape.“
„I’ve got more.“
He placed it in her hand with exaggerated care.
„There.“
„So generous.“
„I know.“
She popped it into her mouth.
„…It was sour.“
His face lit up. „Oh, that’s hilarious.“
„You knew?“
„I absolutely did.“
„You gave me the bad grape!“
„I sacrificed it for science.“
She laughed despite herself and shoved his shoulder.
He stumbled dramatically into the counter. „I’ve been attacked!“
„No jury would convict me.“
„I was only trying to feed you.“
„You poisoned me.“
„It was one grape.“
„It betrayed me.“
Their bickering continued all the way back into the living room, drawing increasingly amused looks from the others.
Hongjoong watched them disappear down the hallway before quietly nudging San.
„…How long do you think it’ll take?“
San smiled to himself. „They’re hopeless.“
Neither Y/N nor Wooyoung heard him.
They were still arguing over whether a sour grape counted as an act of friendship or attempted murder. Neither of them noticed how naturally they walked side by side. Neither of them noticed that, without thinking, Wooyoung slowed his pace to match hers.
And neither of them realized that everyone else in the apartment had already started treating the fake relationship like it was only a matter of time.
The first thing Y/N saw Monday morning was the wedding invitation pinned beneath a magnet on her refrigerator.
The second thing she saw was her own reflection in the microwave, looking as thrilled as someone about to attend a tax seminar.
She sighed. „You’re being dramatic.“
Her reflection offered no counterargument.
The invitation had been sitting there for over a week now, mocking her every time she walked into the kitchen.
Emma and Lucas.
Saturday, four o’clock.
Formal attire.
Plus one invited.
That last line felt almost personal.
She poured herself a cup of coffee, hoping caffeine would somehow produce a solution that didn’t involve spending the entire reception hiding from her extended family.
It didn’t.
Instead, her mind wandered back to Friday.
I’ll come with you.
Wooyoung had said it so casually.
Like he had offered to help carry groceries.
Not pretend to be her boyfriend in front of nearly a hundred strangers.
Well, family.
Which, in her opinion, was somehow worse.
Her phone buzzed against the counter.
As if summoned by her thoughts.
Wooyoung: Morning.
She smiled despite herself.
You: Morning.
Wooyoung: Have you made your decision yet?
She stared at the message for several seconds before typing.
You: No.
His reply came almost instantly.
Wooyoung: Need a PowerPoint presentation?
You: You’d make one?
Wooyoung: Already started.
She laughed.
You: You’re kidding.
Wooyoung: Slide 12 has statistics.
You: Statistics about what?
Wooyoung: How much less annoying weddings become when I’m there.
You: That sounds made up.
Wooyoung: It is.
Another message followed.
Wooyoung: But the charts are beautiful.
She shook her head, smiling into her coffee.
He was unbelievable.
By lunchtime, she’d managed to convince herself that saying no was the responsible thing to do.
By three in the afternoon, her mother had called.
„Hi, sweetheart!“
„Hi, Mom.“
„Did Emma tell you where you’re sitting?“
„No?“
„Oh! You’re at Table Six.“
„Okay.“
„With your Aunt Sabine.“
Y/N closed her eyes.
„…Wonderful.“
„And your Uncle Michael.“
„Mhm.“
„And Daniel’s parents.“
Silence.
„…Mom.“
„What?“
„Why?“
„They’re close with Emma’s family.“
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
„Please tell me Daniel isn’t coming.“
„I don’t think so.“
„You don’t think so?“
„I haven’t seen the seating chart.“
„Mom.“
„I’m sure it’ll be fine.“
Famous last words.
Her mother hesitated before speaking again.
„So…“
There it was.
She knew that tone.
„What?“
„Will you be bringing anyone?“
Y/N looked out the office window.
„No.“
„Oh.“
Just one syllable.
Not disappointed.
Not judgmental.
Just… hopeful.
Which somehow made it worse.
„You know,“ her mother continued carefully, „your grandmother keeps asking.“
„I know.“
„I told her to leave you alone.“
„I know.“
„But you know how she is.“
Unfortunately, she did.
„She still thinks…“
„That Daniel made one mistake?“
„…Yes.“
„It wasn’t one.“
„I know.“
„He cheated on me.“
„I know.“
„Twice.“
„I know.“
„So why does everyone keep acting like I should forgive him?“
Her mother was quiet for a moment.
„I don’t think you should.“
„Then why doesn’t anyone say that?“
Another pause.
„Because your grandmother loved him.“
Y/N laughed humorlessly.
„Apparently more than she loves me.“
„Don’t say that.“
„But that’s what it feels like.“
Her mother sighed softly.
„I know this weekend won’t be easy.“
„No.“
„But try to enjoy yourself anyway.“
„I’ll try.“
After they hung up, Y/N rested her forehead against her desk.
She loved her family.
She really did.
But sometimes they made loving them incredibly exhausting.
Wednesday evening, the friend group met at their usual café.
The moment Y/N walked in, Wooyoung looked up from his iced americano.
„So?“
She blinked.
„So?“
He pointed at the empty chair across from him.
„Sit.“
„…That sounded like an order.“
„It was.“
She laughed and slid into the seat.
The others hadn’t arrived yet.
It was just the two of them.
„I’ve been thinking,“ she admitted.
„I know.“
„How?“
„You get this wrinkle.“ He pointed between his own eyebrows. „Right here.“
„I do not.“
„You absolutely do.“
She instinctively touched her forehead.
His grin widened.
„See?“
„Oh, you’re annoying.“
„I’ve heard that before.“
She narrowed her eyes.
„I still haven’t said yes.“
„I know.“
„I probably shouldn’t.“
„I know.“
„You’ll spend your entire Saturday surrounded by people you’ve never met.“
„Mhm.“
„They’ll ask you uncomfortable questions.“
„I’ll survive.“
„My grandmother pinches cheeks.“
„I’ve survived worse.“
„My Aunt Sabine doesn’t believe in personal boundaries.“
„I’m faster than she is.“
She couldn’t help smiling.
„You’re taking this far too lightly.“
Wooyoung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
„I’m really not.“
His expression softened.
„Y/N.“
She looked at him.
„I hate seeing you dread something that’s supposed to be fun.“
She opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
„It’s one day.“
„I know.“
„If I can make that one day easier…“ He shrugged. „Why wouldn’t I?“
There wasn’t a hint of teasing in his voice.
No exaggerated confidence.
Just sincerity.
It caught her completely off guard.
„You really don’t mind?“
„Not even a little.“
„You’ll have to wear a suit.“
„I look fantastic in a suit.“
She rolled her eyes.
„I walked right into that.“
„You did.“
„And my family is…“
„A lot?“
„A lot.“
„I’ve met Mingi after two energy drinks.“
„…Fair point.“
„They can’t be worse.“
She laughed. „You have no idea.“
„I’ll find out.“
Silence settled between them.
Comfortable.
Easy.
She tapped her fingers against her coffee cup.
„You really used to do this?“
„Mhm.“
„Were you actually any good?“
He looked genuinely offended.
„I was exceptional.“
„Oh?“
„I told you I repeat customers.“
„That’s still such a weird sentence.“
„I know.“
She laughed again.
Then she looked down at her drink.
„…Okay.“
He blinked.
„…Okay?“
She nodded slowly.
„Okay.“
His eyebrows shot up.
„Wait.“
„You’ve convinced me.“
„You mean…“
„I mean yes.“
For a second, Wooyoung simply stared at her.
Then a slow grin spread across his face.
„I knew my imaginary PowerPoint would work.“
„It absolutely did not.“
„It was the charts.“
„There were no charts.“
„They were very convincing.“
She shook her head, laughing.
„I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this.“
„You won’t regret it.“
„I feel like I definitely will.“
„You have so little faith in me.“
„I have exactly the appropriate amount.“
He held a hand over his heart.
„That hurts.“
„I’m sure you’ll recover.“
„I don’t know.“
„I’ll buy you cake.“
He gasped dramatically.
„…I accept your apology.“
She laughed so hard that people at the next table turned to look at them.
When she finally caught her breath, Wooyoung was already pulling out his phone.
„So.“
„So?“
„We have work to do.“
Her smile faltered.
„…Work?“
„The relationship.“
She stared.
„The fake relationship.“
„Oh.“
He opened his notes app.
„If we’re going to fool your family, we need details.“
„You’re serious.“
„Completely.“
He cracked his knuckles.
„Question one.“
She laughed.
„You’re unbelievable.“
„What day did we start dating?“
„Woo…“
„I’m waiting.“
She looked at the ceiling.
„…I already regret this.“
He beamed.
„Excellent.“
Somewhere deep down, beneath the teasing and laughter, Y/N realized something.
For the first time since Emma’s invitation had arrived, she wasn’t dreading the wedding anymore.
She was actually looking forward to it.
That should have worried her.
Instead, she found herself wondering just how ridiculous this fake relationship was about to become.
Wooyoung had worn a suit hundreds of times before.
For weddings.
Graduations.
Fancy dinners.
The occasional event where jeans somehow weren’t considered appropriate.
So why, exactly, was he standing in front of the bathroom mirror for the fourth time in ten minutes, adjusting a tie that had already been perfectly straight?
„You know,“ San called from somewhere behind him, „if you keep staring at yourself, it isn’t going to become more symmetrical.“
Wooyoung didn’t look away from the mirror.
„It was crooked.“
„It wasn’t.“
„It absolutely was.“
„It wasn’t.“
Wooyoung sighed dramatically before stepping out of the bathroom.
Their apartment was unusually lively for a Saturday morning.
San was sitting at the kitchen island with a mug of coffee, looking far too awake for someone who had gone to bed after two.
Mingi occupied most of the couch, despite there being enough room for three people.
Hongjoong leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone.
Yeosang was peacefully stealing strawberries from a bowl on the table as though he’d lived there his entire life.
All four of them looked up at the exact same moment.
Silence.
Then Mingi blinked.
„…Wow.“
Wooyoung frowned.
„What?“
„You Actually look good.“
„I always look good.“
„You look expensive,“ Hongjoong added.
„There.“
Wooyoung pointed at him.
„That’s the compliment I was looking for.“
San snorted into his coffee.
„You’ve said that six times already.“
„Because it’s true.“
He smoothed down the sleeves of his charcoal suit before checking the cuffs.
„I do look expensive.“
„You also look nervous,“ Yeosang said casually.
Wooyoung laughed.
„I’m not nervous.“
„You’ve changed ties three times.“
„They all looked different.“
„They were all black.“
„They had different textures.“
Nobody answered.
Instead, four pairs of eyes continued watching him.
„What?“
Hongjoong slipped his phone into his pocket.
„Can I ask you something?“
„You just did.“
„Do you think this is actually a good idea?“
Wooyoung frowned.
„What?“
„The fake dating thing.“
„What about it?“
Hongjoong shrugged.
„I don’t know.“
San spoke next.
„You and Y/N have known each other for years.“
„Mhm.“
„You get along.“
„Mhm.“
„You already spend quite a bit of time together.“
„Mhm.“
„And now you’re going to pretend to date.“
„…Yes?“
Mingi leaned forward.
„You really don’t think anything could happen?“
Wooyoung stared at him.
„What do you mean?“
„I mean…“
Mingi gestured vaguely between his hands.
„Feelings.“
Wooyoung actually laughed.
„Oh, come on.“
„What?“
„It isn’t like that.“
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.
„Isn’t it?“
„No.“
„You’ve never thought about it?“
Wooyoung looked genuinely confused.
„About dating Y/N?“
„Yeah.“
He shrugged.
„Not really.“
That wasn’t meant to sound dismissive.
It was simply… true.
Y/N had always been part of the group.
She came to movie nights.
Game nights.
Birthday dinners.
She always brought desserts because she insisted bakery cakes tasted „too corporate.“
She laughed at his terrible jokes.
Rolled her eyes at his dramatic ones.
Called him unbearable at least once every time they met.
She was…
Y/N.
Cute?
Sure.
Funny?
Obviously.
Easy to be around?
Definitely.
But he’d never actually stopped to think about her in any other way.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
„I’ve always just… seen her as a friend.“
San studied him over the rim of his mug.
„You say that like you’ve never considered the alternative.“
„I haven’t.“
Hongjoong hummed.
„Interesting.“
„What is?“
„Nothing.“
„There was definitely something behind that ‚interesting.‘“
„There wasn’t.“
„There absolutely was.“
Hongjoong only smiled.
Wooyoung narrowed his eyes.
„I don’t know what conspiracy you’re trying to start, but this is literally me helping a friend.“
„We know,“ San said.
„And that’s sweet.“
„But?“
„But just… be careful.“
Wooyoung frowned.
„Careful of what?“
Hongjoong answered this time.
„Sometimes pretending becomes easier than admitting you aren’t pretending anymore.“
Wooyoung groaned loudly.
„You’ve all watched too many romantic comedies.“
Mingi grinned.
„They’re educational.“
„They’re fictional.“
„So is your relationship.“
„Exactly.“
Wooyoung grabbed his car keys from the counter.
„I’m leaving before one of you starts betting on when we’ll kiss.“
Hongjoong called after him.
„I give it three weddings.“
San laughed.
„I’ll say two.“
Yeosang looked up from another strawberry.
„I’m just here for the inevitable chaos.“
Wooyoung pointed accusingly at all of them.
„You’re all impossible.“
Then he left before they could continue.
The drive to Y/N’s apartment wasn’t long.
Long enough, however, for Hongjoong’s words to replay in his head.
Sometimes pretending becomes easier than admitting you aren’t pretending anymore.
Ridiculous.
This wasn’t some cheesy romance movie.
Y/N needed someone to survive her family’s interrogation.
He happened to own a suit and possess an alarming amount of experience pretending to be someone’s boyfriend.
That was all.
He parked outside her apartment building and checked the time.
Two minutes early.
Perfect.
He leaned back in the driver’s seat.
Then immediately sat up again.
Why was he suddenly…
No.
Not nervous.
Just…
Making sure everything went smoothly.
Right.
Exactly that.
His phone buzzed.
Y/N: Coming down.
He smiled.
Take your time.
Less than a minute later, the apartment door opened.
Wooyoung looked up absentmindedly.
Then forgot how to blink.
She wasn’t wearing anything extravagant.
No glittering ball gown.
No dramatic train.
Just a soft floral dress that reached her calves, the light fabric moving gently in the summer breeze.
Tiny flowers were embroidered across it, delicate enough that they almost disappeared unless the sunlight caught them.
A pair of nude heels clicked softly against the pavement as she walked toward the car.
Her hair, usually tied back in a messy ponytail whenever he saw her, fell loosely over her shoulders in soft waves.
Simple earrings caught the light every time she moved.
She smiled when she spotted him.
He remained frozen.
„…Woo?“
Oh.
Right.
Words.
He was supposed to have those.
She stopped in front of him, tilting her head.
„Is something wrong?“
„No.“
His answer came far too quickly.
„You just…“
He cleared his throat.
„You look pretty.“
She laughed. „That’s it?“
„What?“
„I thought from your face that I’d somehow ripped my dress.“
„No.“
He looked at her again.
Big mistake.
Because she looked…
Really pretty.
Not just objectively.
Actually…
Pretty.
He swallowed.
„You look nice.“
The smile she gave him was warm enough to make something strange happen somewhere around his ribs.
„Thank you.“
She looked him up and down.
„You don’t look too bad yourself.“
He immediately grinned.
„I know.“
„There he is again.“
„Who?“
„My overly confident friend. I was worried he’d stayed home.“
Relief washed over him.
There it was.
Their normal rhythm.
Teasing.
Bickering.
Much better.
He hurried around the car to open the passenger door with an exaggerated flourish.
„M’lady.“
She snorted.
„If you say that in front of my grandmother, she’ll love you forever.“
„Perfect.“
„No.“
„Too late.“
She rolled her eyes as she climbed into the car.
Even in heels…
He noticed she barely reached his shoulder.
Actually…No.
She was still noticeably shorter than him.
He blinked.
Why had he never realized that before?
He closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver’s side.
As he got in, he caught himself glancing at her again.
She was smoothing invisible wrinkles from her dress.
Nervous.
He’d never really seen Y/N nervous before.
Not like this.
„You okay?“ he asked.
She looked over.
„My family.“
„Right.“
„They’re… a lot.“
„I remember.“
„I wasn’t exaggerating.“
„I know.“
She gave him a skeptical look.
„I really don’t think you do.“
He laughed as he started the car.
„We’ll survive.“
„We?“
„I told you.“
He pulled out onto the road.
„We’re a team today.“
Something in her expression softened.
„Thanks.“
He smiled without looking away from the road.
„Don’t thank me yet.“
„Oh?“
„I haven’t even impressed your grandmother.“
She groaned dramatically.
„You really think you can?“
„I’ve won over tougher audiences.“
„You don’t know my grandmother.“
„I’ll compliment her cooking.“
„She didn’t cook.“
„I’ll compliment her outfit.“
„She bought it yesterday.“
„I’ll compliment her grandchildren.“
She pointed at herself.
„That’s me.“
„I know.“
She laughed.
„There.“
He smiled.
„That’s the sound we’re aiming for today.“
She looked out the window, still smiling to herself.
Wooyoung glanced at her again before turning his eyes back to the road.
Maybe…
Maybe Hongjoong had been right about one thing.
He’d known Y/N for years.
Yet as she sat beside him, sunlight dancing across the tiny flowers embroidered on her dress while she absentmindedly played with the strap of her purse, he found himself noticing details he couldn’t remember ever paying attention to before.
Warnings: fluff. established relationship. domestic fluff.
Summary: Due to his schedule, Yunho had to cancel plans with Y/N for what felt like the hundredth time. When he comes home late one night, ready to sleep alone, he finds a welcome sight wrapped under his sheets.
Ateez Masterlist
It was one o'clock in the morning when Yunho and Yeosang finally returned to their dorm. They had been at the company all day preparing for their latest comeback, and all Yunho could think about was his bed. The past few hours had dragged on, and Yunho couldn’t concentrate on much; none of the members could.
Yeosang muttered a quiet ‘goodnight’ to him before he shuffled into his own room, closing the door behind him. Yunho took his phone from his pocket. He felt awful. He had originally planned to spend the evening with Y/N, but dance practice had gone on longer than he had originally anticipated. He had sent her a message letting her know hours ago, but he had never received a reply.
It was the fourth time within two weeks that Yunho had to cancel plans. He felt awful about it. Y/N’s schedule had recently become less hectic as she hadn’t needed to work any overtime, so she now had regular days off from her job. Every time she would plan something for her and Yunho to do, even if it was something as simple as ordering food and playing video games, Yunho would have to cancel due to his schedule. Anytime they would see one another in recent weeks, it would be a quick meeting, exchanging a few touches or lingering kisses before either one of them was out the door ready to go to work.
As Yunho shuffled to his bedroom, he heard the quiet sounds of a television. He deduced that it must have been their manager who lived with them, but as Yunho got closer to his room, a soft light emitted from the crack below the door. He pocketed his phone before pushing the door open, and his heart pulled at the sight.
The programme playing on the television was completely ignored as the figure in the centre of the bed peacefully slept. The familiar hoodie Yunho recognised as his own wrapped around her body like an embrace. The brightness from the television lit up the room with a soft light; half of Y/N’s face was cast in shadow.
Yunho closed the door softly behind him, a soft smile pulling at his lips. He wasn’t expecting to see Y/N until at least the weekend, so seeing her now filled him with happiness. He felt bad about disturbing her sleep, but he couldn't help himself as he walked over to the bed. She was wearing a pair of his joggers, the hem bunching around her ankles. Her own jeans were folded neatly and placed next to her bag beside the bed.
As he sat down on the bed, Y/N slightly stirred at the unanticipated dip of the bed. Yunho hovered over her and brushed the hair away from her face.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his other hand caressing her arm.
Y/N mumbled as she stirred again, and Yunho settled more comfortably on the bed. Yunho leaned forward and peppered kisses across her cheek and jaw as he wrapped his arms around her. The scent of his own body wash clung to his skin, indicating that she had showered before she went to sleep.
“What are you doing?” Y/N muttered as she forced open her eyes.
“Loving my girlfriend,” Yunho muttered as he manoeuvred his body again so he rested comfortably on top of her, his lips pressed soft kisses against her neck.
A quiet groan left Y/N’s lips as she wrapped her arms around him. “You're heavy.”
Yunho ignored her as he planted his arms on either side of her so his face hovered above hers. Y/N forced her eyes open once more as her hands planted themselves on the sides of Yunho’s jaw.
“I look awful,” Y/N muttered as she brushed his hair away from his forehead.
Y/N’s hair was a mess amongst the pillows, and she had a small amount of mascara smeared under her left eye that she hadn’t bothered to wipe away before passing out.
“You look beautiful,” Yunho muttered before connecting their lips.
It wasn’t hard to make Y/N melt into his kiss as her body was still heavy with sleep. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Yunho’s right arm kept him propped up over Y/N so he didn’t completely crush her, while his other snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.
“I’m sorry I had to cancel tonight,” Yunho muttered against her lips.
“You cancelled?” Y/N questioned.
“I sent you a message hours ago,” Yunho replied with a soft chuckle. “It’s one in the morning.”
“Is it?” Y/N said. “Huh? I’ve been asleep for nearly five hours.” Y/N pressed a kiss against his cheek. “How was today?”
“Tiring,” Yunho replied with a sigh. “We’ve gone through the dance so many times, I can do it in my sleep. I swear the past few hours, I’ve been on autopilot.”
Y/N wrapped her arms around Yunho once again and pulled him into a hug, and this time, Yunho’s body melted into hers. The exhaustion had quickly caught up with him, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes, but he wanted to savour these few moments with Y/N. Who knew when they would be able to spend more than a couple of hours with one another again?
“I need to change,” Yunho said despite not making the effort to escape Y/N’s embrace.
Y/N's fingers raked through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. Whenever Y/N would do it, Yunho's body would always instantly relax. Even now, he could feel his body get heavier as his body gradually eased further onto hers. Yunho didn't know if they could get any closer.
“You know I typically work on Saturdays?” Y/N questioned, her voice quiet and still heavy with sleep. Yunho hummed a quiet response as his eyes closed. “Well I asked to swap shifts with my coworker so I'm not working tomorrow so if you still have a day off, I'm yours all day.”
Suddenly, Yunho was fully awake. He pulled back from the embrace; his eyes were bright and wide. “Really?”
Y/N nodded, her eyes still threatening to close. “I wanted the whole day with you, not just a quick goodbye in the morning then days on end with barely a phone call.”
“I love you,” Yunho said before firmly pressing his lips to Y/N’s.
Yunho knew that dating him wasn’t easy. His schedule was demanding, and despite the company not enforcing a dating ban, he still wanted to remain private about his relationship as he knew what some possible reactions could be, and he wanted to shield Y/N from that as best he could.
“I love you too,” Y/N whispered against his lips.
For a brief moment, Yunho pulled away to quickly change into more comfortable clothing, the first he pulled out of the drawer. Y/N only flipped the covers up and rolled onto her side, discarding his hoodie in favour of him. Yunho quickly slipped under the covers, immediately pulling Y/N into his arms, her back pressed flush against his chest.
Yunho’s energy was depleting the longer he forced his eyes open. Y/N’s breathing became shallower and shallower as she relaxed deeper into Yunho’s hold until he was sure she was asleep. Even in her sleep, Y/N’s hand still held firmly onto the arm Yunho had wrapped around her waist. Yunho’s eyes closed as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head, his senses being invaded by the familiar scent of her shampoo, a scent that always comforted Yunho. Soon enough, Yunho’s body fully relaxed with Y/N wrapped tightly in his arms as he drifted off to sleep.
After a mysterious door appears during the darkest moment of her life, Y/N finds herself in a forgotten world where an ancient prophecy speaks of a girl who will break a centuries-old curse.
Drawn into a forest filled with secrets, she discovers that six princes have lived as swans for generations, while their eldest brother, Seonghwa, remains behind to carry the weight of their suffering. As magic, destiny, and long-forgotten truths begin to unravel, Y/N may be the only person capable of saving them all.
Pairing: Park Seonghwa × Reader (Y/N)
Tropes: Grimm Fairytale Retelling, The Six Swans AU, Door Between Worlds, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Cursed Princes, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort
Genre: Fantasy, Dark Fairytale, Romance, Adventure, Mystery, Emotional Drama
Fairytale Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Seonghwas Masterlist
To read the other members Fairytale Retellings go to the Fairytale Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is Part 5
Seonghwa woke with a violent gasp.
His lungs burned.
For one impossible moment he thought he had been drowning.
Darkness greeted him.
The familiar wooden ceiling of the hut slowly came into focus above him while his heartbeat thundered against his ribs.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
He pushed himself upright so quickly that the room spun around him.
The fire had almost burned itself out.
Gray morning light seeped through the frosted windows.
Around him his brothers still slept where they had collapsed the evening before. Some lay against the walls, others still at the table where dinner had ended far too abruptly.
Hongjoong groaned first.
"...What..."
He rubbed his eyes before looking around.
"Did somebody hit me?"
Wooyoung slowly sat up beside him.
"My head feels like Mingi sat on it."
"I have never sat on your head."
"You probably would."
"I absolutely would."
Normally the exchange would have earned at least a smile from Seonghwa.
Not today.
His eyes searched the room.
The bed.
The table.
The fireplace.
The sewing corner.
Her bag was gone.
His heart stopped. "No."
The word escaped him before he could stop it.
The blanket beside him was cold. Completely cold.
As though she had been gone for hours.
He stood so abruptly that the chair behind him toppled onto the floor.
Every pair of eyes turned toward him. "Seonghwa?"
He wasn't listening anymore.
His gaze landed on the little blackboard resting carefully against the table.
His stomach dropped.
Slowly...
Almost afraid of what he might find...
He crossed the room.
The chalk writing trembled slightly, as though she'd struggled to keep her hands steady.
Please don't follow me.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the slate.
Beneath it another sentence waited.
Thank you...
The next words had been erased.
Written again.
Erased once more.
Finally she had settled on only three.
...for loving me.
The room became perfectly silent.
Hongjoong had reached his side. He looked down at the board.
His usual grin disappeared instantly. "...No."
Seonghwa barely heard him.
His thumb brushed over the chalk marks.
They smudged beneath his skin.
She had stood here.
Only hours ago.
Writing this.
Alone.
Thinking she would never come back.
His breathing became uneven.
No. No. No.
His eyes darted toward the empty shelf where she always kept her sewing bag.
Gone.
Her winter cloak.
Gone.
The knife she'd insisted on carrying despite barely knowing how to use it.
Gone.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The untouched bowl.
Her restless hands during dinner.
The tears she had tried so desperately to hide.
The kiss.
The way she'd looked at him as though memorizing his face.
He staggered backward. "I was supposed to stop her."
His voice sounded hollow. "I knew."
Nobody answered.
Because they had all known something was wrong.
None of them had understood just how wrong.
Hongjoong quietly picked up the blackboard.
His eyes scanned the writing once more before he whispered,
"She's gone to finish the prophecy."
Seonghwa turned toward him so quickly it almost hurt.
"No."
"Seonghwa..."
"No."
His voice cracked. "I won't let her."
He was already reaching for his coat.
Already strapping his sword to his belt.
Already moving toward the door.
Hongjoong caught his wrist.
For the first time in centuries, Seonghwa saw genuine fear in his oldest friend's eyes.
"You know where she's going."
"The castle."
Hongjoong nodded once. "And if we're right..."
Neither finished the sentence.
Because they didn't have to.
The witch.
The final trial.
One life...That other hearts may live.
Seonghwa ripped his arm free. "I'm bringing her home."
His brothers had risen now.
Yunho stepped forward.
"We're coming."
"So are we," Mingi said immediately.
Wooyoung was already pulling on his boots.
"As if we'd let you do something this stupid alone."
Jongho fastened the clasp of his cloak.
"If she's facing the witch..."
He looked toward the forest beyond the window.
"...then every second matters."
For one heartbeat the seven of them simply looked at one another.
Seven brothers.
One friend.
Bound by centuries.
And by one woman who had somehow become family in only a few months.
Seonghwa opened the door.
The cold hit him immediately.
Snow covered the clearing.
Fresh footprints stretched away from the hut.
Small.
Determined.
His chest tightened so painfully he could barely breathe.
He knelt in the snow and touched one of the prints with trembling fingers.
Still fresh.
She hadn't been gone long.
Hope ignited inside him.
"I'm coming."
The words were barely louder than the falling snow.
He stood.
Turned toward the ancient forest.
And began to run.
Behind him, seven sets of footsteps followed.
The cave trembled.
As though the mountain itself had drawn a slow breath after centuries of waiting.
Y/N remained where she stood.
Silver threads circled lazily around her wrists, neither cutting nor binding, simply waiting. Their glow painted pale ribbons of light across the ancient stone floor while the witch regarded her with an expression that had become impossible to read.
The warmth draining from Y/N's body had stopped.
Nothing happened.
No pain. No darkness swallowing her whole.
Only silence.
The witch tilted her head. "So."
Her voice echoed strangely inside the cavern. "You still stand."
Y/N's breathing remained uneven.
The blackboard rested against her chest.
Her fingers tightened around the piece of chalk.
The witch stepped closer.
"So many who came before you begged."
She smiled faintly.
"They bargained."
"They cursed."
"They accused fate."
"You have done none of those things."
Y/N lowered her gaze to the board.
Slowly she wrote.
There wasn't anything to bargain with.
The witch laughed softly.
"No."
"There wasn't."
She circled Y/N once, the hem of her faded crimson gown whispering over the stone.
"You believe you understand love."
Y/N looked up.
The witch stopped directly before her.
"So answer me one final question."
The silver threads became still.
Even the cave seemed to listen.
"If there had never been a prophecy..."
Her dark eyes searched Y/N's face.
"If no mysterious door had appeared."
"If no dreams had led you."
"If no curse had ever existed."
"If you had met him as nothing more than an ordinary man..."
Her voice softened almost imperceptibly.
"...would you still choose Seonghwa?"
Y/N didn't look down.
She didn't hesitate.
Not even for the space of a heartbeat.
She raised the chalk.
Her hand moved with complete certainty.
Every single time.
The witch stared at the words.
Long enough that Y/N began wondering whether she had answered incorrectly.
Then something extraordinary happened.
The silver threads surrounding her wrists loosened.
Only slightly.
The witch smiled.
Not triumphantly.
Sadly.
"You answered differently than I did."
Y/N frowned.
The witch turned away, walking toward the center of the chamber where ancient symbols had been carved into the stone centuries before.
"When I loved..."
She looked upward into the darkness.
"I demanded."
The cave echoed quietly with her voice.
"When he refused me..."
She laughed once.
A hollow sound.
"I convinced myself that if I could not have him..."
Her hand brushed one of the glowing symbols.
"...then no one should."
The light beneath the stone flickered.
"I called that love."
She closed her eyes.
"It never was."
Y/N remained perfectly still.
The witch continued.
"It was hunger. It was pride. It was possession."
A long silence followed.
Then the witch looked back.
"You..." Her gaze settled gently upon Y/N. "...would choose him even if the story had never demanded it."
Y/N nodded.
The witch's smile became smaller.
"Good."
The cavern shook.
This time violently.
Cracks spread across the ceiling.
Stone dust rained softly around them.
Y/N instinctively stepped backward.
From somewhere far above came the unmistakable sound of shouting.
Then running footsteps.
Then…"Y/N!" Seonghwa.
Her heart stopped.
"No..." The whisper escaped her without sound.
Another voice followed.
Hongjoong.
Then all the others.
They had found her.
The witch sighed. "They are late."
Y/N shook her head desperately.
The entrance to the chamber exploded inward.
Stone shattered.
Cold winter air rushed into the cave.
Seonghwa stumbled through the dust first.
His hair was covered in snow.
His breathing was ragged.
His eyes searched wildly through the darkness until they found her.
For one endless heartbeat neither of them moved.
Then he ran.
He crossed the chamber without caring about the glowing symbols beneath his feet or the silver threads circling through the air.
He reached her.
His hands caught her shoulders.
He looked over her frantically as though expecting to find wounds she was somehow hiding.
"You left." His voice broke. "You actually left."
Y/N felt tears filling her eyes immediately.
Behind him the others entered more cautiously.
Hongjoong's gaze darted between the witch and Y/N before settling on Seonghwa.
No one spoke.
The witch simply watched.
Almost...curiously.
Seonghwa gently cupped Y/N's face. "You don't get to decide this alone."
His forehead rested against hers.
"I don't care what the prophecy says. I don't care what the forest says. I don't care what fate wants."
He looked directly into her eyes. "I refuse to lose you."
Y/N's shoulders trembled.
She reached shakily for the blackboard that had fallen against her side.
Her fingers moved quickly.
I promised I'd save you.
He read the words.
Then shook his head. "No."
She wrote again.
This is the only way.
His expression hardened with a quiet certainty she had rarely seen.
"No."
She stared.
He turned toward the witch. "If a life is required..."
His voice rang clearly through the chamber. "...then take mine."
Y/N's heart lurched.
Immediately she grabbed his arm, shaking her head so fiercely tears spilled onto her cheeks.
"No," she mouthed desperately.
He smiled at her.
The same gentle smile that had first made the lonely hut feel like home.
"I would choose you."
His thumb brushed across one of the tiny scars on her hand.
"Every lifetime. You are not dying for me."
Y/N erased the board with trembling fingers.
Her handwriting had become uneven.
Almost unreadable.
Neither are you.
She pressed the board against his chest.
Her eyes begged him to understand.
He did.
He simply refused.
"I won't let you."
She stepped in front of him.
He gently pulled her behind him again.
"I mean it."
She moved in front once more.
Hongjoong watched the exchange in complete disbelief.
"...You're both impossible."
Neither of them even heard him.
The witch observed them silently.
Y/N looked up at Seonghwa.
Then back at the witch.
Then at him again.
Neither of them was willing to move.
Neither would step away.
Neither would allow the other to take their place.
The cave became utterly still.
Even the cracks creeping across the walls stopped spreading.
The witch's shoulders slowly relaxed.
Then she laughed.
It sounded almost...free.
At the sound, everyone turned toward her.
Tears shimmered in the witch's ancient eyes. "Finally..."
She smiled through them.
"After all these centuries..." She looked between Y/N and Seonghwa. "...someone remembered."
Her hand rested gently against her own heart.
"Love was never meant to be ownership."
The silver threads dissolved into thousands of tiny points of light.
"I built my curse upon wanting to possess."
She looked at Seonghwa.
"I could not bear that your heart belonged elsewhere."
Then at Y/N.
"And you..." Her smile became unexpectedly warm. "...would rather lose everything than force his choice."
The chamber began glowing.
Not red.
Gold.
Warm sunlight poured through the cracks in the ceiling.
The witch closed her eyes.
"The prophecy was never asking for death."
"It was waiting..." She looked at them one final time. "...for two hearts that would freely choose one another while refusing to own the other."
The cave roared.
Light burst through every wall.
The curse had finally understood its own ending.
Seonghwa had never heard silence sound so loud.
For one endless heartbeat, no one moved.
The witch stood bathed in golden light. Y/N remained between him and the ancient magic, tears glistening on her cheeks. His brothers watched from the mouth of the cavern, each frozen exactly where they had stopped running.
Even the mountain seemed to hold its breath.
Then the witch smiled.
It was unlike any smile she had worn before.
Gone was the bitterness that had carved itself into her beautiful face for centuries.
Gone was the pride.
Gone was the anger.
Only exhaustion remained.
"So this..." Her voice echoed gently through the cavern. "...is what it was always meant to be."
She lowered her hands.
The silver threads circling Y/N dissolved into countless shimmering specks that drifted upward like tiny stars returning to the night sky.
Seonghwa immediately crossed the remaining distance between them.
He didn't think.
He simply moved.
His hands cupped Y/N's face.
He searched her desperately, looking for wounds, for pain, for anything that told him he had been too late.
"You frightened me."
His voice trembled despite every attempt to steady it.
"You frightened me more than anything ever has."
Y/N's eyes filled with fresh tears.
She reached for the blackboard with shaking fingers.
Before she could write, Seonghwa gently stopped her.
"You don't have to."
He rested his forehead against hers.
"I know."
Her shoulders shook as she silently cried.
His arms wrapped around her instinctively.
This time he wasn't letting go.
Not for fate.
Not for prophecy.
Not for anyone.
Behind them, the witch watched quietly.
"Look at you."
Her words were almost wistful.
"So simple And yet so impossibly difficult."
Seonghwa turned toward her, keeping one arm firmly around Y/N.
"You ruined generations." His voice had become calm. "You destroyed my family. My kingdom. My people."
The witch nodded. "I know."
"You cursed innocent children."
"I know."
"You cursed Hongjoong."
Again she nodded. "I know."
There was no excuse.
No attempt to defend herself.
Only acceptance.
For the first time since entering the cave, Seonghwa saw not the terrifying sorceress of every story...
But simply a woman who had carried the weight of one terrible decision for far longer than any soul should.
She looked toward Y/N. "I waited centuries for someone worthy."
Y/N frowned.
The witch smiled softly.
"Not worthy because she was brave. Not because she was kind. Not because she was willing to suffer."
Her gaze shifted between Y/N and Seonghwa.
"You became worthy the moment love became choice."
The cave began trembling again.
This time the shaking spread through every wall.
Ancient stones cracked.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
The witch looked upward.
"It begins."
The first pillar shattered.
Rock crashed onto the cavern floor.
The brothers instinctively moved toward Seonghwa and Y/N.
"We need to leave!" Yunho shouted.
Another deafening crack echoed through the mountain.
The witch remained where she stood.
Golden light surrounded her now, growing brighter with every heartbeat.
She almost looked...Young.
Seonghwa hesitated.
Then he realized. "You aren't coming."
The witch smiled.
"My story ended long ago."
She looked around the crumbling chamber. "I simply refused to accept it."
A tear rolled slowly down her cheek.
"For centuries I believed love meant keeping. My greatest punishment..."
She laughed quietly.
"...was discovering far too late that love has never belonged inside a cage."
Another pillar collapsed.
The mountain roared.
She closed her eyes. "Go."
None of them moved.
The witch opened her eyes one last time.
Her gaze settled on Seonghwa. "I'm sorry."
Then on Hongjoong. "So very sorry."
Finally on Y/N. "Thank you."
Light exploded through the cavern.
Not destructive.
Warm.
Like sunrise after an endless winter.
The witch's body dissolved into thousands of glowing fragments.
Not ash.
Not dust.
Light.
It drifted upward through the collapsing ceiling before disappearing into the morning sky.
And with her the curse broke.
It began with the shirts.
Folded neatly inside the brothers' packs, each silver shirt suddenly burst into brilliant white light.
Wooyoung gasped. "My shirt!"
The fabric floated free, hovering in the air.
One by one the other six followed.
Seven silver garments circled above them like stars caught in a gentle wind.
The threads Y/N had spun from star flowers glowed brighter and brighter until Seonghwa could no longer look directly at them.
The light poured downward.
It wrapped itself around each brother.
Around Hongjoong.
Around him.
Warmth flooded his body.
Not painful.
Comforting.
Like coming home.
Outside, something answered.
A sound echoed through the forest.
Not one voice.
Thousands.
Birds.
For the first time in centuries, birdsong filled the woods.
The mountain gave one final groan.
"Run!" Jongho shouted.
Seonghwa scooped Y/N into his arms before she could protest.
She laughed silently through her tears, wrapping both arms around his neck.
Together they raced toward the cave entrance.
Behind them the ancient chamber disappeared beneath falling stone.
The moment they burst into the open air...
The world transformed.
Snow melted beneath their feet.
White drifts became rushing streams.
Frozen earth softened.
Tiny green shoots pushed through the ground before their eyes.
Flowers burst into bloom across the forest floor.
Branches that had stood bare for centuries suddenly unfurled fresh leaves.
Sunlight.
Real sunlight.
Warm sunlight.
It poured through the trees, reaching the forest floor for the very first time in generations.
Seonghwa stopped.
Everyone did.
The barrier.
The ancient silver wall that had always surrounded the forest...
Shimmered once.
Then cracked.
Like glass.
With a sound as soft as a sigh, it dissolved into the wind.
Far away, beyond the trees, church bells began ringing from Alderbrook.
The earth itself seemed to breathe.
Hongjoong slowly looked toward the clearing where, every dawn for centuries, he had become a maple tree.
Nothing happened.
He looked down at his own hands.
Turned them over.
Touched his face.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
One that quickly became something very close to crying.
"I..." His voice broke. "I stayed."
Wooyoung threw himself at him immediately.
"I KNEW YOU WERE TOO STUBBORN TO BE A TREE FOREVER."
"I literally had no choice!"
"You do now!"
One by one the brothers embraced him.
Some laughing.
Some crying.
Some doing both.
Seonghwa barely noticed.
His eyes never left Y/N.
She stood quietly in the middle of the blooming forest, sunlight catching in her hair.
The scars on her hands gleamed pale against her skin.
Proof.
Not of suffering.
Of love freely given.
She looked up at him.
Smiled.
And in that single moment, with spring unfolding around them and centuries of sorrow finally ending, Seonghwa understood that every dream he had ever had of her had been only the beginning.
Now their real story could finally begin.
Two years later, Alderbrook no longer looked like a village holding its breath.
Y/N noticed it most in the mornings.
Once, the fields beyond Marta’s cottage had seemed tired. The soil had been thin and stubborn, the harvests uncertain, the sky too often bruised with storms that arrived too quickly and left too much damage behind.
Now the earth bloomed.
Wheat grew high and gold beyond the road. Gardens spilled over fences in bright colors. Merchants traveled through Alderbrook regularly now that the forest no longer twisted paths or frightened horses away. The roads had widened beneath wheels and footsteps. New signs hung above new shops. Children ran closer to the treeline than their parents liked, laughing as if the woods had never been something to fear.
Sometimes Y/N still stopped in the middle of the street and stared.
The curse was gone.
Truly gone.
And life had filled the empty spaces it left behind.
Her tailoring shop stood near the center of the village, between the baker and the apothecary. A painted wooden sign hung above the door, swaying gently in the warm evening breeze.
Needle & Moon.
Hongjoong had called the name dramatic.
Seonghwa had called it beautiful.
Y/N had chosen to listen to Seonghwa.
Inside, bolts of fabric lined the walls in careful stacks. Linen, wool, silk, cotton, velvet from faraway merchants who had begun arriving once the roads became safe again. Dresses hung along one side, coats along another. A half-finished wedding gown rested near the window, pale cream fabric catching the late sunlight.
It was hers.
Her shop.
Her work.
Her life.
And people loved what she made.
That still surprised her sometimes.
Not because she doubted her skill the way she once had, but because praise still felt like something delicate. Something she had to hold carefully until it settled in her chest.
A bell chimed above the door.
“I brought dinner,” Seonghwa said.
Y/N looked up from the sleeve she had been pinning.
He stood in the doorway with a basket hanging from one arm, sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark hair slightly messy from the wind. He looked nothing like a prince from a forgotten kingdom.
He looked like home.
Y/N smiled. “You cooked?”
“I always cook for you.”
“That sounded defensive.”
“Because you looked surprised.”
“I was admiring you.”
He paused.
Then smiled, soft and warm. “That is better.”
Two years had changed him in quiet ways.
He still carried grace in every movement. Still had the calm watchfulness of someone who had lived far longer than anyone in Alderbrook could imagine. But the sadness that had once clung to him had loosened. He laughed more now. Slept deeply. Stood in sunlight without looking startled by it.
And every morning, without fail, he made breakfast.
He worked with her in the shop most days, though “worked” was generous depending on his mood. He helped cut fabric when she trusted him with the expensive pieces, sorted thread by color, carried heavy deliveries, charmed customers without realizing it, and somehow convinced half the village that a former cursed prince was simply a very pretty househusband with excellent knife skills.
Y/N adored him for it.
Marta adored him even more.
Which was deeply unfair.
“I told Marta we’d visit tomorrow,” Seonghwa said, setting the basket on the counter.
Y/N immediately softened.
Marta.
When Y/N had returned from the forest two years ago with seven strange men behind her, Marta had opened the door before she even knocked.
The older woman had taken one look at her, alive and whole and standing beneath real spring sunlight, and burst into tears.
Y/N had barely said her name before Marta pulled her into the strongest hug of her life.
She had cried too.
Messily.
Completely.
Because Marta had felt like the loving mother she had never truly had. The one who waited. The one who worried. The one who knew when to hold on and when to let go.
Even now, two years later, Marta still came to the shop twice a week pretending she only wanted thread or buttons.
She never only wanted thread or buttons.
She wanted tea, gossip, and to tell every customer within hearing distance that Y/N was the best tailor Alderbrook had ever seen.
Y/N never stopped pretending to be embarrassed.
Seonghwa reached over and gently removed a pin from between her lips.
“You’ll hurt yourself.”
She gave him a look.
“I’ve been sewing longer than you’ve been uncursed.”
“And yet.”
She rolled her eyes, but let him take it.
His smile deepened.
“Come on. Wooyoung sent someone earlier. He said if we’re late, he’ll tell everyone the tree story again.”
Y/N gasped. “Hongjoong will kill him.”
“Probably.”
“Then we should hurry.”
They closed the shop just as evening settled.
Alderbrook glowed beneath lantern light. The tavern stood at the end of the main road, bright and loud and full of music. San and Wooyoung had opened it a year after the curse broke, claiming they needed a respectable business.
It had taken exactly three days for everyone to realize “respectable” meant gambling, drinking, flirting, singing, and occasionally throwing people out through the back door if they insulted the food.
The tavern had become the heart of Alderbrook.
Merchants came for ale.
Farmers came for cards.
Travelers came for stories.
And women came, very often, to try their luck with the mysterious handsome men who had appeared from the once-cursed forest.
Tonight was no different.
The moment Y/N and Seonghwa entered, noise wrapped around them.
Laughter.
Music.
The clink of cups.
Wooyoung’s voice rising above everything.
“I am telling you, if I had stayed a swan, I would have been the most elegant swan in the kingdom.”
“You were the loudest swan,” Jongho said dryly.
“That is a form of elegance.”
“It is not.”
Y/N smiled before she even saw them.
They sat at their usual table near the back.
Hongjoong lounged with a cup in hand, looking far too pleased with whatever chaos he had already caused. Yunho waved warmly. Mingi moved aside to make room. Yeosang observed the whole tavern with quiet amusement. San leaned over the bar, arguing with a customer about whether cheating at dice counted if nobody could prove it.
Wooyoung spotted them first.
“The lovebirds are here!”
Several women turned.
Seonghwa sighed.
Y/N smiled sweetly. “Hello, Wooyoung. Still shouting for attention?”
“I own the building. It’s called atmosphere.”
“It’s called noise,” Hongjoong said.
Wooyoung pointed at him. “You wound me in my own home.”
“Good.”
Y/N slid into the seat beside Mingi while Seonghwa sat next to her, his hand settling naturally against the back of her chair.
It was easy.
All of it.
The teasing.
The warmth.
The way the brothers fell into conversation like no time had passed since the hut. For years they had only had one hour together beneath moonlight. Now they had full evenings. Full days. Full lives.
Yunho worked with horses at the new stables.
Yeosang kept the village records and somehow knew every secret in Alderbrook.
Mingi helped rebuild farms and homes after the last old storms had passed.
Jongho had become the most intimidating bookkeeper the merchants had ever encountered.
Hongjoong advised the village council, which mostly meant telling people when their ideas were stupid.
San and Wooyoung ran the tavern.
And Seonghwa went home with Y/N every night.
The thought still made her smile into her cup.
Seonghwa noticed, of course.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “That was not a nothing smile.”
“It was.”
“It was suspicious.”
“You’re suspicious.”
Hongjoong leaned across the table. “That was terrible.”
Y/N pointed at him. “No one asked.”
“I offer criticism freely.”
“How generous.”
“Isn’t it?”
The night stretched comfortably after that.
They drank, laughed, argued over cards, and listened as Wooyoung dramatically retold a story in which he was apparently the hero of a bar fight that San had actually ended. Y/N laughed until her cheeks hurt. Seonghwa watched her with the same soft look he always got when he thought she would not notice.
She always noticed.
Later, when the night deepened and the tavern grew even louder, Seonghwa leaned close.
“Walk home?”
Y/N looked at his face.
At the quiet smile there.
At the warmth in his eyes.
“Yes.”
Outside, the air was cool and sweet.
The road home wound past sleeping cottages and moonlit gardens. Crickets sang in the grass. Somewhere in the distance, the forest stood dark and peaceful, no longer a prison, only trees.
Seonghwa held her hand as they walked.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then he said, “I was thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
He laughed softly. “About the future.”
Y/N looked at him.
He kept his eyes on the road, but his thumb moved gently over her knuckles.
“The shop is doing well.”
“It is.”
“And Alderbrook keeps growing.”
“It does.”
“Marta thinks we should expand the back room.”
“Marta thinks many things.”
“She is usually right.”
Y/N smiled. “Don’t tell her that.”
“I already did.”
“Traitor.”
He smiled, but there was nervousness beneath it.
Y/N slowed. “Seonghwa?”
He stopped too.
Moonlight rested across his face, turning him silver and soft. For a moment he looked like the man from her dreams again, the one who had waited beneath centuries of moonlight.
Then he took both of her hands.
Her breath caught.
“I spent a very long time believing my life had ended before it was over,” he said quietly. “I thought all I had left was waiting. Watching. Remembering.”
His thumbs brushed across her fingers.
“Then you came.”
Y/N’s throat tightened.
“You brought spring back to the forest. To my brothers. To Hongjoong. To a kingdom that had forgotten its own name.”
His voice softened.
“But before all of that, you brought me back to myself.”
Tears gathered before she could stop them.
Seonghwa smiled, and this time his own eyes shone too.
“I love our home,” he said. “I love waking beside you. I love cutting fabric badly enough that you pretend not to notice. I love cooking while you sew. I love watching you become more yourself every day.”
He lowered himself onto one knee.
Y/N’s heart stopped.
The whole world seemed to still.
Seonghwa looked up at her, holding her hands like they were something sacred.
“I do not have a kingdom to offer you anymore,” he said. “No crown. No palace. No title that matters.”
His smile trembled.
“But my heart belongs entirely to you.”
Y/N covered her mouth with one hand.
Tears spilled freely now.
“I want to build every ordinary day with you. I want every morning, every winter, every spring. I want to grow old beside you, if time will finally allow me that kindness.”
He drew a small ring from his pocket.
Simple silver.
A tiny moonstone set in the center.
“Y/N,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”
For a moment, she could not speak.
Not because of magic.
Not because of silence.
Because happiness had filled every corner of her so completely that words had nowhere to go.
Then she dropped to her knees in front of him and kissed him.
Seonghwa laughed against her mouth, breathless and relieved.
“Is that a yes?”
Y/N pulled back just enough to smile through tears.
“Yes.”
His face broke into the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.
“Yes?”
“Yes, you ridiculous man.”
He kissed her again, and this time she laughed too.
Somewhere down the road, the tavern door opened and Wooyoung’s voice shouted, “DID SHE SAY YES?”
Y/N froze.
Seonghwa closed his eyes.
Hongjoong yelled, “Of course she said yes, you idiot!”
Marta’s voice followed from somewhere much closer than it should have been.
“I told you he would do it tonight!”
Y/N turned slowly.
Half the tavern stood in the road.
Marta was crying.
Wooyoung was waving a towel like a banner.
San had both hands raised in victory.
Seonghwa looked mortified.
Y/N started laughing so hard she nearly fell into him.
And as Seonghwa slipped the ring onto her finger beneath moonlight, surrounded by the strange, loud, impossible family she had found beyond a door, Y/N understood that home was not always the place you began.
Sometimes home was a forest that had learned to bloom again.
Sometimes it was a village with warm windows and open arms.
Sometimes it was a man kneeling before you in the road, promising every ordinary day he had left.
And sometimes, if magic was kind, home was the life that waited after the fairytale ended.
Epilogue
So turns another page at last,
Another tale becomes the past.
Yet stories never truly sleep,
For magic keeps what hearts will keep.
Where devil’s gold once caught the light,
A fearless soul restored what’s right.
Where scarlet cloaks through forests tread,
The wolf now bows his noble head.
Where Bearskin wandered cold and worn,
New hope awoke with springtime’s morn.
Where wedding bells hid dreadful lies,
Truth bloomed beneath forgotten skies.
Where straw was spun to threads of gold,
No bargain bound brave hearts of old.
Where geese once wandered fields of white,
A stolen crown reclaimed the light.
Where six white swans through moonlight flew,
A silent promise carried through.
And love, unclaimed by pride or fear,
Brought spring where winter ruled each year.
Thus seven doors have opened wide,
With fate and wonder side by side.
Seven hearts have crossed the seam,
Born from one forgotten dream.
Yet still one story waits unseen,
Where yellow doors glow bright between
The winding paths of wood and stone,
Where crumbs may lead the lost back home.
There laughter hides where witches grin,
And hungry hearts may yet still win.
One clever soul has yet to stray,
One door still waits another day.
So if one evening, calm and fair,
You find a doorway standing there,
With golden handle, silent gleam,
Half forgotten like a dream,
Do not ask from whence it came,
Nor whisper softly magic’s name.
Simply listen. Soft and low.
For ancient forests always know.
Step across and do not flee,
For fate is seldom what we see.
Each ending leaves one thread untied,
One path still winding far and wide.
Until the final tale is done,
Until the last brave soul has run,
The doors shall wait.
The woods shall sing.
And somewhere yet…
A tale takes wing.
For every once upon a time
Still waits beyond the next soft rhyme.
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After a mysterious door appears during the darkest moment of her life, Y/N finds herself in a forgotten world where an ancient prophecy speaks of a girl who will break a centuries-old curse.
Drawn into a forest filled with secrets, she discovers that six princes have lived as swans for generations, while their eldest brother, Seonghwa, remains behind to carry the weight of their suffering. As magic, destiny, and long-forgotten truths begin to unravel, Y/N may be the only person capable of saving them all.
Pairing: Park Seonghwa × Reader (Y/N)
Tropes: Grimm Fairytale Retelling, The Six Swans AU, Door Between Worlds, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Cursed Princes, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort
Genre: Fantasy, Dark Fairytale, Romance, Adventure, Mystery, Emotional Drama
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To read the other members Fairytale Retellings go to the Fairytale Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is Part 4
The fire had burned low.
Its gentle warmth still filled the little hut, wrapping the room in a comforting glow while the winter evening slowly settled outside.
Snow drifted lazily beyond the frosted windows.
Inside, everything felt still.
Peaceful.
Y/N lay curled against Seonghwa beneath a thick wool blanket. Their clothes had long since been abandoned somewhere on the floor beside the bed, forgotten in favor of warmth and each other's company.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't thinking about curses.
Or prophecies.
Or star flowers.
She simply listened to his heartbeat beneath her cheek.
His fingers absentmindedly combed through her hair.
"You know," he murmured softly, "Hongjoong wasn't always as fearless as he pretends to be."
Y/N looked up at him with immediate curiosity.
He smiled. "Oh, don't give me that look."
She raised an eyebrow.
"It wasn't that dramatic."
She gently nudged him with her shoulder.
He laughed quietly. "Fine."
He settled more comfortably against the wooden headboard.
"When we were children, there was a giant oak tree near the palace gardens."
His eyes drifted toward the window, as though he could still see it.
"My brothers insisted we climb it."
Y/N smiled.
"I was the oldest. So naturally I thought it was my responsibility to prove it was perfectly safe."
She snorted softly.
"I climbed first. Yunho followed. Then San. Mingi got halfway before deciding he'd rather stay close to the ground."
She could almost picture it.
"And Hongjoong?"
Seonghwa's smile widened.
"He declared we were all cowards."
Y/N already knew where this was going.
"So he climbed even higher than everyone else."
She nodded.
"Then? He looked down."
A pause.
"And realized just how high he'd climbed."
Y/N pressed her lips together.
"He froze."
Another pause.
"He refused to move."
She burst into silent laughter.
Seonghwa couldn't help laughing too.
"We spent nearly two hours trying to convince him to come down."
Y/N was already shaking with laughter.
"He kept yelling that the tree had become taller."
She buried her face against his shoulder, trying not to laugh too loudly.
"He insisted someone had enchanted it."
Her shoulders shook.
"And eventually..."
Seonghwa wiped at the corner of one eye.
"...our father had to send palace gardeners with ladders."
Y/N finally couldn't contain herself anymore.
Her laughter echoed softly through the hut.
Seonghwa watched her with the gentlest smile.
"I've missed that."
She looked up.
He brushed a thumb across her cheek.
"You laugh so freely now."
Her smile softened.
A loud voice suddenly interrupted the peaceful moment.
"I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY OBJECT TO THIS SLANDER."
Both of them jumped.
The front door swung open.
Hongjoong stood in the entrance, still wearing the silver shirt Y/N had made for him.
Snow dusted his shoulders.
He looked thoroughly offended.
"First of all," he declared dramatically while stomping snow from his boots, "that tree was clearly possessed."
Seonghwa sighed.
"It was an oak."
"It was a suspicious oak."
"It was six meters tall."
"It was at least twenty."
Hongjoong finally looked toward the bed.
He stopped.
Blinked once.
Twice.
Then slowly looked between them.
"Oh."
Silence.
"...Oh."
Y/N immediately hid beneath the blanket until only her eyes remained visible.
Seonghwa covered his face with one hand.
Hongjoong's mouth slowly curved into a grin.
"Well."
He crossed his arms.
"This certainly explains why nobody answered when I came in."
Neither of them replied.
Hongjoong nodded thoughtfully.
"I see."
Another long pause.
"...Should I come back?"
Still silence.
"Nah."
He grinned wider.
"This is much more entertaining."
Seonghwa groaned.
"Hongjoong."
"I'm simply observing."
"Hongjoong."
"I'm happy for you."
"Hongjoong."
"But also..."
He pointed vaguely toward the bed.
"...this is objectively funny."
Y/N buried her burning face against Seonghwa's shoulder.
She could feel him trying very hard not to laugh.
"You're impossible."
"I've been told."
"Frequently."
Eventually, after giving them just enough teasing to ensure Seonghwa would remain embarrassed for at least the next century, Hongjoong mercifully turned toward the fire.
"I'll pretend I saw nothing."
"You saw everything."
"I absolutely did."
The rest of the afternoon passed in comfortable warmth.
As sunset approached, familiar wings circled above the clearing.
One after another, six white swans descended.
Moonlight wrapped around them.
Feathers dissolved.
Six men stood where the birds had landed.
Y/N hurried to the table.
The shirts.
Carefully folded.
Carefully finished.
She carried them toward the brothers one by one.
Yunho accepted his first.
Then Yeosang.
San.
Mingi.
Wooyoung.
Jongho.
Each looked at the silver fabric with quiet amazement.
"They're beautiful," Yunho whispered.
"You made these..." Mingi ran gentle fingers across one sleeve. "...for us."
Y/N smiled shyly.
Wooyoung immediately pulled his shirt over his head. "So?"
Everyone watched.
Nothing.
San tried his.
Nothing.
The others followed.
Still...Nothing.
The shirts fit perfectly.
The silver thread shimmered faintly.
But the curse remained.
Silence slowly settled across the hut.
Y/N felt something inside her sink.
Her smile disappeared.
Slowly she looked down at her own hands.
The scars.
The endless stitches.
The sleepless nights.
The first trial.
Had she misunderstood everything?
Maybe...
Maybe she had never been the girl from the prophecy after all.
Maybe the dreams had simply led the wrong person here.
She lowered her head.
"I'm sorry..."
The words never left her lips.
But everyone somehow understood them anyway.
Yunho stepped forward first.
He rested a warm hand against her shoulder.
"It's alright."
Yeosang nodded.
"The prophecy never promised it would end after one trial."
Mingi smiled gently.
"You've already done more for us than anyone ever has."
San ruffled her hair lightly.
"We're still here."
Wooyoung pointed toward the shirts.
"And now we have excellent fashion."
Even Jongho smiled.
"They're comfortable."
Hongjoong crossed the room.
He gently flicked her forehead.
"You think we'd let you carry this alone?"
Y/N blinked rapidly.
Seonghwa quietly slipped his hand into hers.
She squeezed it tightly.
That evening, after the brothers had once again taken to the sky as swans, she and Seonghwa returned to bed.
The hut was quiet once more.
She lay curled against him, his arm wrapped securely around her waist.
Neither spoke.
Words weren't necessary.
Eventually exhaustion claimed her.
Sleep arrived gently.
And with it...the dream.
She stood once more within the endless forest.
Winter had vanished.
Everything around her was strangely colorless.
The trees stood like silent giants.
Mist curled between ancient roots.
Far ahead, a mountain rose from the earth.
Black.
Jagged.
Its peak disappeared into storm clouds.
At its base yawned the entrance to a cave.
Cold air poured from within.
The kind that carried memory.
Then the familiar voice returned.
Older than the forest.
Older than the curse.
It whispered in perfect rhyme.
"The thread is spun.
The cloth complete.
Yet still the tale has not found peace.
The flower's price has marked thy hand,
Yet one more trial now must stand.
Beyond the stone where shadows sleep,
The oldest promise still runs deep.
Within the mountain waits the one
Who stole the light from moon and sun.
No sword shall end what hate began.
No crown.
No prince.
No mortal man.
The final debt shall freely give
One life...That other hearts may live."
The cave swallowed the final words.
Y/N looked toward its endless darkness.
Somewhere deep inside...
Something opened its eyes.
And smiled.
She woke with a sharp breath, her heart racing so hard it almost hurt.
Beside her, Seonghwa still slept peacefully.
Outside, snow continued falling.
But Y/N already knew.
The third trial had found her.
And this time...it would ask for far more than her voice.
Or her hands.
The hut had become home.
Y/N realized it while setting seven bowls onto the wooden table.
Months ago, the room had belonged to strangers.
Now every object carried a memory.
The crack near the window where Hongjoong insisted cold air entered, though Seonghwa claimed it was only his imagination.
The chair Wooyoung always stole before anyone else could sit down.
The corner where Yunho liked to lean while talking.
The little shelf where Mingi carefully stacked every cup after washing them.
The hook beside the door where Seonghwa always hung her coat before taking off his own.
It had become routine.
A strange, beautiful routine.
Every evening, just before sunset, the brothers arrived as men.
Hongjoong returned from spending another day as a maple tree.
They shared dinner.
They laughed.
For one precious hour they almost forgot they were cursed.
Y/N wished tonight could remain ordinary.
She stirred the stew one last time.
Her fingers tightened around the wooden spoon.
Hidden beneath the rich smell of herbs was another ingredient.
One she had gathered before dawn.
The whisper from her dream had told her exactly which flowers to crush.
Exactly how much to use.
Not enough to hurt.
Only enough to bring a deep, dreamless sleep.
Her stomach twisted.
She hated herself for it.
But if she told them where she was going…
They would stop her.
And she couldn’t allow that.
Not when the third trial waited.
Not when the voice had spoken so clearly.
One life…
That other hearts may live.
The front door opened.
Cold winter air rushed inside together with familiar laughter.
Hongjoong brushed snow from his shoulders.
„I have returned from my glorious career as decorative landscaping.“
Wooyoung immediately pointed at him.
„You’ve got leaves in your hair.“
„I was a tree.“
„Exactly.“
„That tends to happen.“
Y/N smiled despite herself.
Seonghwa entered behind them carrying another bundle of firewood.
The moment his eyes found her, his entire expression softened.
He smiled.
The same smile that somehow still made her heart race.
He crossed the room and kissed her forehead gently before beginning to help set the table.
„You’ve been cooking all afternoon.“
She nodded.
His fingers brushed lightly against hers beneath the table.
„So tonight I clean.“
She smiled again.
Even now.
Even knowing what she would do.
He still found ways to take care of her.
The guilt became almost unbearable.
Soon everyone had gathered around the table.
Steam rose from the bowls.
Outside, snow continued falling beyond the frosted windows.
For a little while everything felt almost normal.
Wooyoung complained dramatically that Hongjoong somehow managed to become more dramatic every day.
Hongjoong argued that becoming a tree entitled him to certain privileges.
Jongho calmly informed him that it did not.
Mingi laughed so hard he nearly dropped his spoon.
Yunho shook his head fondly.
Yeosang quietly added observations that somehow made everyone laugh even harder.
Seonghwa reached beneath the table and gently intertwined his fingers with Y/N’s.
She squeezed his hand.
Then immediately wished she hadn’t.
Because she knew.
This might be the last time.
She barely touched her own food.
Her stomach refused to cooperate.
She could feel it.
The restless feeling inside her.
The pressure building beneath her ribs.
As though the forest itself already knew where she would walk tonight.
Hongjoong noticed first.
He always noticed strange things.
Halfway through his meal he frowned.
His spoon paused.
He looked down into his bowl.
Then toward Y/N.
Very slowly.
His smile disappeared.
„…Y/N?“
Every conversation stopped.
She looked up.
He studied her face.
Then looked at the untouched food in front of her.
Realization slowly dawned in his eyes.
„You didn’t eat.“
Silence.
His expression changed completely.
He looked around the table.
Then back at her.
„…What did you do?“
The words were quiet.
Not angry.
Afraid.
Y/N lowered her eyes.
Across the table Seonghwa frowned.
„What do you mean?“
Hongjoong stood abruptly.
Only to stumble.
He caught himself against the table.
His breathing slowed.
„No…“
His voice had become strangely heavy.
„You…“
The spoon slipped from his fingers.
The first bowl hit the floor.
Mingi blinked slowly.
„…Why am I…“
His sentence never finished.
He slumped sideways against Yunho.
One by one they began losing consciousness.
San tried to stand.
His knees buckled.
Yeosang leaned heavily against the wall before slowly sliding to the floor.
Wooyoung looked around in confusion. „…This…“ He yawned. „…is incredibly unfair…“
Moments later he too had fallen asleep.
Only Seonghwa remained awake.
He pushed himself upright.
His legs trembled violently.
He looked at the sleeping brothers.
Then at Hongjoong.
Finally… At her.
He understood.
„No…“
He whispered.
His voice shook.
„Don’t.“
She was already crying.
Silent tears rolled freely down her cheeks.
He forced himself one step closer.
Then another.
His body fought the potion with everything it had.
„Y/N…“
She caught him before he fell.
His forehead rested weakly against hers.
„Please.“
The word came almost as a breath.
„Tell me.“
She closed her eyes.
When she finally looked at him again, there was so much sorrow in her expression that his heart broke before she ever reached for the chalkboard.
Her hands shook as she wrote.
She turned it toward him.
I promised I would save you.
He stared.
She erased the words.
Wrote again.
This is the only way.
„No.“
His voice cracked.
„There has to be another.“
She shook her head.
More tears fell.
She wrote once more.
I won’t let centuries of suffering continue.
His knees finally gave out.
She caught him again.
He looked up at her.
„…Don’t leave.“
The plea was barely audible.
Y/N broke completely.
She cupped his face gently in both hands.
„I’m sorry,“ she whispered, though no sound left her lips.
Instead she leaned forward.
And kissed him.
Trying to memorize everything.
The warmth of his skin.
The way his hand weakly found hers.
The softness of his lips.
When she finally pulled away, he was already struggling to keep his eyes open.
„I love you.“
His voice was barely more than air.
She mouthed the words.
„I love you too.“
He smiled faintly.
Then the magic finally claimed him.
His body relaxed against her.
Fast asleep.
Y/N remained there for several long moments, holding him as though she could somehow remember the feeling forever.
Then she carefully lowered him onto the bed beside his brothers.
She brushed one final strand of dark hair away from his forehead.
Another silent goodbye.
Then she picked up her coat.
Stepped outside.
And closed the door behind her. The winter forest greeted her with silence. Ahead, hidden beneath centuries of snow and forgotten history, the ruins of the old royal castle waited.
Somewhere within those broken halls…the witch still lived.
Fear settled deep inside her.
Every instinct begged her to turn back.
To run.
To stay beside the people she loved.
Instead…She tightened her grip on the small knife at her belt.
Drew one long breath.
And walked toward the darkness.
Toward the final trial.
Toward whatever fate had been waiting for her since the day she stepped through a pale door beneath another world’s sky.
Y/N walked alone into the forest.
The hut disappeared behind her within minutes.
Not because she had gone far enough for it to vanish naturally, but because the forest swallowed distance whenever it wished to. One moment the warm glow of the window still flickered between the trees. The next, only darkness remained behind her.
Only snow beneath her boots and the endless black skeletons of winter trees.
She tightened her coat around herself and kept walking.
The sleeping draught would hold for hours. At least, she hoped it would. The whisper had told her it would. It had guided her hands that morning as she crushed the bitter white roots into powder, stirred them into broth, and watched them disappear among herbs and salt.
Not poison.
She kept telling herself that.
Not poison.
Only sleep.
Still, the memory of Seonghwa’s face haunted every step.
The way his eyes had fought to remain open.
The way he had understood before she told him.
The way his voice had broken when he begged her not to leave.
Y/N pressed one hand against her chest as if she could quiet the ache there.
She had never said the words aloud.
Not properly.
Not once.
She had loved him silently for weeks, maybe longer. Maybe from the first dream. Maybe from the first time she saw his face by firelight and felt recognition settle into her bones like an old song.
And when she finally admitted it, it had been with her mouth shaped around silence.
I love you too.
He had seen it.
She knew he had.
But it was not enough.
It would never be enough if she did not come back.
Snow fell heavier the deeper she walked.
It clung to her lashes and settled in her hair. The wind moved between the trees with a voice too old to be natural. Branches creaked above her like bones shifting in sleep.
The forest did not guide her gently tonight. It pulled.
A pressure settled beneath her ribs, urging her forward even when the path disappeared beneath drifts of white. Every time she paused, the cold sharpened. Every time she thought of turning back, the trees ahead opened slightly, revealing another narrow passage.
The final trial wanted her.
Y/N hated that she was going willingly.
A part of her still wanted to run.
To throw herself back into the hut, shake Seonghwa awake, confess everything, let him be angry, let him stop her. The thought was almost sweet.
But she knew him.
If he followed her, he would offer himself instead.
So would Hongjoong.
So would the brothers.
That was the terrible thing about being loved.
It made sacrifice complicated.
She had thought, once, that nobody needing her was the greatest loneliness in the world. Now she knew being needed was ist own kind of terror.
Because people could not lose what they did not love.
And Seonghwa loved her.
The memory of his confession nearly stopped her in the snow.
I love you because you’re you.
Not the prophecy.
Not the curse.
Not the girl from another world.
Her.
Y/N swallowed around the tightness in her throat and kept walking.
The forest began to change.
At first, subtly.
The snow thinned in patches. Frost blackened along tree roots. The air grew warmer, but not pleasantly. It became damp and heavy, smelling of old stone, ash, and flowers left too long in water.
Then the trees opened.
The ruins of the old castle rose before her.
Y/N stopped.
For a moment she forgot to breathe.
Even broken, the place was enormous.
Towers stood cracked against the moon, their tops jagged like teeth. Walls had collapsed in places, spilling ancient stones into the snow. Ivy, black from winter, strangled archways and climbed shattered windows. The main gate hung open on rusted hinges, though no wind moved it.
This had been Seonghwa’s home.
Once there had been banners.
Music.
Brothers running through halls.
Hongjoong stuck in a tree and yelling that it had grown taller.
A queen.
A king.
A life before feathers and bark and centuries of grief.
Now only ruin remained.
Y/N stepped through the gate.
The courtyard beyond lay buried beneath snow, but not untouched. Strange dark veins ran through it, cracks in the stone where something red glowed faintly underneath. Magic. Old magic. The kind that did not care whether anyone believed in it.
Her breath trembled.
She crossed the courtyard slowly.
Each step echoed too loudly.
The castle seemed empty, but not abandoned.
There was a difference.
Abandoned places slept.
This place watched.
The whisper returned inside her mind.
It sounded closer. Almost eager.
Beyond the stone where shadows sleep,
The oldest promise still runs deep.
Y/N closed her eyes briefly.
A low sound drifted from somewhere inside the castle.
Not laughter.
Not crying.
Something between both.
Y/N opened her eyes and moved toward it.
The great hall had no roof anymore.
Moonlight spilled straight through broken arches, illuminating pillars wrapped in dead vines. Snow had fallen across the cracked floor, but at the center of the hall stood a circle untouched by winter.
Black stone.
A spiral carved into it.
And beyond the hall, beneath the remains of a tower, an opening led downward.
A cave.
No, not a cave.
A mouth.
Y/N knew it immediately.
The dream had shown her this.
At ist base yawned the entrance to darkness so complete it seemed to drink the moonlight before it could enter.
Her whole body resisted.
Her feet stopped at the threshold.
The cold was gone now. The air pouring from the cave was warm and wet, carrying the scent of soil, iron, and something rotten beneath sweetness.
Y/N’s fingers found the small knife at her belt.
It was ridiculous.
Almost laughable.
What was she going to do with a knife against the woman who had cursed an entire kingdom?
Still, holding it helped.
A little.
She stepped inside.
Darkness closed around her.
For the first few steps, she could see nothing. One hand brushed along the stone wall. It was damp beneath her fingers, pulsing faintly with warmth like skin.
She almost pulled away.
Then light appeared ahead.
Red light.
It flickered against the walls, revealing a passage carved deep beneath the ruined castle. Roots grew through stone overhead, thick and black, twisting together like veins. White feathers lay scattered along the ground.
Y/N followed them.
The passage opened into a chamber.
And there, at last, waited the witch.
She did not look the way Y/N had expected.
That was the first unsettling thing.
There were no claws. No crooked back. No monstrous face.
The witch sat on a stone throne grown from the cave itself, her long white hair spilling down around her like frost. Her face was beautiful in an ageless, terrible way. Not young. Not old. Something beyond both. Her eyes were dark as buried water.
She wore a gown the color of dried roses.
Around her wrists wound silver threads.
Star nettle thread.
Y/N recognized it instantly.
The witch smiled.
“So,” she said softly, “the seamstress comes at last.”
Y/N did not answer.
The witch’s smile widened.
“Oh, good. You have learned silence.”
Y/N’s hand tightened around the knife.
The witch noticed and laughed, not cruelly, but with such old amusement that Y/N felt suddenly childish.
“Put it away. If blades could end me, your prince would have been free before your grandmother’s grandmother had a name.”
Y/N stayed still.
The witch tilted her head.
“You look frightened.”
A pause.
“You should be.”
The chamber seemed to breathe around them.
Y/N wanted to ask what she wanted.
Wanted to ask why.
Wanted to scream that Seonghwa had suffered enough, that his brothers had suffered enough, that Hongjoong had deserved none of it, that Alderbrook’s fields had grown thin and storm-battered because of a cruelty centuries old.
But her voice remained locked behind her teeth.
The witch rose slowly.
Her bare feet touched the stone floor without sound.
“I have wondered what shape you would take,” she said, circling her at a distance. “The prophecy was never clear about that. Only that you would be lost. Only that your hands would know thread. Only that grief would bring you to the door.”
Y/N went cold.
The witch smiled again.
“Yes. I know about the door.”
Her gaze lowered briefly to Y/N’s chest, as if she could see the hurt that had once lived there.
“Magic is drawn to emptiness. To longing. To women standing at edges.”
Y/N’s throat tightened.
“Did you think it saved you out of kindness?”
The words struck too close.
Y/N forced herself not to react.
The witch stepped closer.
“It brought you because the tale required you. That is all.”
No.
The denial rose instantly, fierce and silent.
Not all.
Marta had been real.
The hut had been real.
Hongjoong’s laughter had been real.
Seonghwa’s hands holding hers had been real.
The witch’s eyes gleamed.
“Ah. There it is. Defiance.”
She looked almost pleased.
“I wondered whether you had any. When I saw you first, you looked so breakable.”
Y/N stared.
First?
The witch laughed softly.
“I saw you in the field. I saw you pluck the flowers. I saw you bleed and refuse to stop. Such devotion for people you barely knew.”
Y/N lifted her chin.
The witch circled her once more.
“You think that makes you noble.”
Y/N said nothing.
“You think sacrifice is love.”
Still nothing.
The witch stopped in front of her.
“Do you know what love is, child?”
Y/N’s fingers curled.
The witch’s voice turned silky.
“Love is hunger. Love is claiming. Love is the refusal to be forgotten. I offered him eternity. I offered him a kingdom that would never crumble. I offered him myself.”
Her beautiful face hardened.
“And he looked at me as though I were something foul.”
Y/N could imagine it.
Seonghwa at eighteen, proud and kind and far too honest, rejecting power dressed as devotion.
The witch leaned closer.
“He chose nothing over me.”
No, Y/N thought.
He chose freedom.
He chose not being owned.
The witch’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though she sensed the thought.
“Careful.”
The chamber darkened.
“You pity him. You love him. You believe that makes you different from me.”
Y/N’s heart pounded.
The witch lifted one hand.
Silver thread slid from her sleeve and moved through the air like a living thing.
“You are not so different. You want him too.”
Y/N froze.
The witch smiled.
“You want him to look at you as though you are the only light left in the world. You want his hands. His mouth. His promise. You want to be chosen.”
Y/N’s breath shook.
It was Cruel.
Because it was true.
Not all of it. But enough.
The silver thread brushed her cheek.
“You were unwanted once. I can smell it on you. The ache of it. The shame. The little hope that someone might need you enough to make you real.”
Y/N’s eyes burned.
She hated that.
Hated the tears.
Hated that the witch could still find the softest place to press.
“You came here thinking you would save them,” the witch whispered. “But perhaps you came because finally, finally, someone needed you.”
The words hit harder than any blade.
Y/N staggered back half a step.
For one terrible moment, the cave blurred.
Because there had been truth in that too.
Being needed had felt good.
After years of feeling disposable, the prophecy had placed her at the center of something. It had given her hands a purpose no evaluator could dismiss. It had made her important.
The witch smiled, satisfied.
“There.”
Y/N closed her eyes.
She saw Seonghwa kneeling before her, turning her scarred hands over in his, worried not because she was useful, but because she hurt.
She saw Marta pushing bread toward her and saying she had a home.
She saw Hongjoong pretending not to care too much.
She saw six brothers accepting the shirts with awe, not entitlement.
She saw Seonghwa telling her he loved the way she smiled at snow.
Y/N opened her eyes.
The witch’s smile faded slightly.
Y/N lifted both hands.
Slowly.
Then placed the knife on the ground.
The witch watched.
Curious.
Y/N reached into her coat and pulled out the small blackboard she had brought with her.
Her fingers trembled, but she wrote.
The chalk scratched loudly in the chamber.
When she lifted the board, the words were uneven.
I came because I chose to.
The witch stared.
Y/N wiped the board with her sleeve and wrote again.
Not because fate forced me.
Again.
Not because I need him to love me.
Her chest hurt.
Her throat hurt.
Her whole body seemed to resist the honesty.
Still, she wrote one final line.
Because I love him.
Silence.
The witch’s face went very still.
Then she smiled.
But this time it was different.
Sharper.
Colder.
“Then prove it.”
The chamber shook.
Roots tore down from the ceiling.
The stone beneath Y/N’s feet split open, revealing red light below.
The witch lifted both hands, silver thread unwinding from her wrists in long shining streams.
“The first trial took your blood.”
The threads circled Y/N.
“The second took your voice.”
They tightened around her wrists.
“And now the third shall take what every true tale eventually demands.”
Y/N’s breathing quickened.
The witch stepped close enough that their faces were only inches apart.
“Your life.”
Y/N had expected the words.
She had dreamed them.
Still, hearing them aloud made fear crash through her so violently that she nearly fell.
The witch watched her with terrible patience.
“You may still run.”
Y/N looked toward the passage behind her.
For one moment she imagined it.
Running.
Back through the cave.
Back through the snow.
Back to Seonghwa.
He would wake.
He would hold her.
He would be angry and relieved and terrified.
And the curse would remain.
Hongjoong would become a tree again.
The brothers would return to feathers.
Alderbrook’s fields would fail.
Storms would worsen.
Seonghwa would keep waiting for an ending that never came.
Y/N turned back to the witch.
Her hands shook as she lifted the blackboard again.
There was hardly any space left to write.
Still, she managed.
Do it.
The witch’s eyes gleamed.
“Willingly?”
Y/N’s lips trembled.
She nodded.
The silver threads tightened.
Pain flared through her wrists, not sharp enough to cut, but cold enough to make her gasp silently.
The witch raised her hands.
The red light beneath the floor brightened.
Far away, impossibly far away, Y/N thought she heard wings.
Six of them.
Crying through the night.
She closed her eyes.
Seonghwa, she thought.
His name hurt.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
She hoped he would forgive her.
She hoped he would live.
The witch began to chant.
Not in words Y/N understood.
The cave pulsed.
The threads climbed her arms.
Her knees weakened.
She felt something being drawn from her, not blood, not breath, but warmth. Memory. Life. The invisible fire that made her body hers.
Images flickered behind her eyes.
Marta’s kitchen.
A field of star flowers.
Seonghwa’s laugh.
His cheek beneath her bloody fingertips.
His hands holding hers.
His mouth against hers.
His voice.
I love you because you’re you.
Y/N opened her eyes one last time.
The witch was smiling.
Above them, roots cracked.
Somewhere in the distance, the castle ruins groaned as if waking.
And through the pain, through the cold, through the fear, Y/N felt something unexpected.
Not peace.
Not courage.
Choice.
Her choice.
She had chosen this.
The silver threads pulled tighter.
The red light swallowed the chamber.
And Y/N fell into it without making a sound.
Fairytale Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Seonghwas Masterlist
To read the other members Fairytale Retellings go to the Fairytale Masterlist
After a mysterious door appears during the darkest moment of her life, Y/N finds herself in a forgotten world where an ancient prophecy speaks of a girl who will break a centuries-old curse.
Drawn into a forest filled with secrets, she discovers that six princes have lived as swans for generations, while their eldest brother, Seonghwa, remains behind to carry the weight of their suffering. As magic, destiny, and long-forgotten truths begin to unravel, Y/N may be the only person capable of saving them all.
Pairing: Park Seonghwa × Reader (Y/N)
Tropes: Grimm Fairytale Retelling, The Six Swans AU, Door Between Worlds, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Cursed Princes, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort
Genre: Fantasy, Dark Fairytale, Romance, Adventure, Mystery, Emotional Drama
Fairytale Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Seonghwas Masterlist
To read the other members Fairytale Retellings go to the Fairytale Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is Part 3
Seonghwa woke with a gasp.
For a long moment he remained perfectly still, his heart pounding against his ribs as if it wanted to escape the nightmare before the rest of him could.
The hut was dark.
Only the last embers in the hearth painted faint orange light across the wooden floor.
His breathing came slowly.
In.
Out.
It was only a dream.
At least, that was what he wanted to believe.
Yet the images refused to leave him.
Y/N stood alone beneath a silver moon in an endless field of glittering flowers. Every blossom reflected the stars above until the clearing looked like a piece of the night sky had fallen to earth.
She reached for one flower.
Then another. Then another.
She never looked up. Never rested.
With every flower she gathered, crimson spread across the white snow beneath her feet until the stars seemed to bloom red instead of silver.
He had called her name.
Again and again.
She had never answered.
The flowers had swallowed his voice.
Seonghwa pressed a hand against his face.
The dream felt wrong.
Not because it was frightening.
Because it had felt true.
Outside, the winter wind sighed softly through the trees.
Unable to sleep again, he quietly pulled on his coat and stepped outside.
The cold bit immediately.
Moonlight covered the clearing in pale silver.
Someone was already awake.
Hongjoong sat on a chopping block beside the neatly stacked firewood, lazily turning a small knife between his fingers.
Without looking up, he said, „Bad dream?“
Seonghwa sat beside him. „…Yes.“
Hongjoong nodded once. „I guessed.“
Silence settled comfortably between them.
They had shared enough centuries that not every quiet needed filling.
Eventually Seonghwa spoke. „Hongjoong…“
„Hm?“
„Are you angry with me?“
That finally made Hongjoong look over. „What?“
„You can’t see the sun anymore.“
„You become a tree every day because of me.“
His voice became quieter.
„My brothers lost their lives because of me.“
„And you…“
Hongjoong snorted.
„I still feel the sunlight.“
Seonghwa frowned.
„What?“
„When I’m a tree.“
Hongjoong shrugged.
„It’s actually quite nice.“
„You become a maple.“
„I know.“
„You stand in one place all day.“
„I also know.“
„You think that’s nice?“
„I get excellent views.“
Despite himself, Seonghwa smiled.
Hongjoong noticed immediately.
„There he is.“
The smile faded just as quickly.
„I’m serious.“
„I know.“
Hongjoong’s own expression softened.
„Which is why I’m answering seriously.“
He leaned his elbows onto his knees.
„Stop carrying all of this alone.“
Seonghwa remained silent.
Hongjoong continued quietly.
„You always speak as though you cursed us yourself.“
„I—“
„You didn’t.“
„It happened because—“
„Because an ancient witch couldn’t accept rejection.“
Hongjoong cut him off.
„That isn’t your burden.“
„It became mine.“
„It became ours.“
The distinction mattered.
Hongjoong looked toward the sleeping forest.
„I honestly don’t remember what life felt like before.“
Seonghwa turned toward him. „What?“
Hongjoong laughed softly. „Isn’t that strange?“
He twirled the knife once between his fingers.
„I don’t remember how old I was. I don’t remember my mother’s voice. I don’t remember the taste of summer before this forest.“
His smile became smaller. „When time doesn’t move properly, memory starts behaving strangely too.“
Seonghwa stared.
Hongjoong looked at him.
„But I remember meeting you.“
„And honestly…“
He grinned.
„…I probably got the better deal.“
„You were already impossible back then.“
Seonghwa laughed quietly.
For a little while neither of them spoke.
The moon climbed higher.
Then Seonghwa found himself looking toward the path leading deeper into the forest.
Hongjoong noticed.
Of course he noticed.
„You’re wondering.“
Seonghwa didn’t answer.
„How long she’s been gone.“
Still silence.
Hongjoong’s grin slowly returned. „You’re thinking about your cute prophecy girl.“
Seonghwa immediately looked away. „No.“
„Liar.“
„I am not.“
„You’ve checked the path six times since sitting down.“
„I have not.“
„You absolutely have.“
Hongjoong leaned closer. „You like her.“
„I barely know her.“
„You’ve been dreaming about her for centuries.“
„…“
„And now you’re worried.“
Seonghwa exhaled slowly. „I’m afraid.“
The admission surprised even him.
Hongjoong’s teasing disappeared. „I know.“
„What if the forest decides she isn’t strong enough?“
„What if she gets hurt?“
„What if she never comes back?“
Hongjoong placed a hand on his shoulder. „She will.“
„You don’t know that.“
„No.“
„But I know she looked at us as though we’d already become important to her.“
Before Seonghwa could answer, six white shapes burst through the trees.
His brothers.
They landed roughly in the clearing, feathers flying.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Even before the moonlight transformed them into men, he could see it in the frantic beat of their wings.
The transformation finished.
None of them bothered greeting him.
Yunho stepped forward first. „Seonghwa.“
His voice was tight. „You have to come.“
„What happened?“
San looked toward the eastern woods. „We found her.“
Every trace of warmth left Seonghwa’s body.
The brothers were already moving.
He ran after them without another question.
Branches whipped against his face as they raced through the sleeping forest.
The trees blurred.
Snow crunched beneath hurried footsteps.
No one spoke. No one needed to.
They reached the clearing all at once.
Seonghwa stopped so abruptly his breath caught.
The flowers were gone.
The vast silver field had become a wide circle of untouched snow broken only by scattered stems and the faint shimmer of frost. In ist center lay Y/N, curled protectively around the worn canvas bag that held the gathered star flowers.
She looked impossibly small.
For one terrible heartbeat he thought he was too late.
Then he saw her chest rise.
He was at her side in an instant.
He dropped to his knees. „Y/N.“
Her hands rested against the bag.
Even in sleep she hadn’t let go.
He carefully lifted one of them.
Tiny cuts crossed her palms and fingers, as though every flower had demanded ist own price.
His throat tightened painfully.
Before anyone could speak, the forest itself breathed.
An ancient whisper drifted between the trees.
Every one of them heard it.
It came from nowhere. And everywhere.
„The first trial now is done,
Marked beneath the winter sun.
Blood was freely, bravely paid,
Thus the ancient debt was made.
Stars were gathered, silence kept,
Though the weary maiden wept.
Forward now the path shall wind,
Leaving gentle days behind.“
The whisper faded into the wind.
Seonghwa looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms.
She had done this.
Alone. For them.
Without being asked. Without ever owing them anything.
Carefully, as though she might break, he gathered her against his chest.
She was frighteningly light.
Halfway back through the forest she stirred.
Her eyes opened only a little.
They searched until they found his face.
She slowly lifted one hand.
Before he could stop her, her fingertips brushed gently across his cheek.
Leaving faint crimson smudges against his skin.
She smiled sleepily.
Then her hand slipped away.
Her breathing deepened once more.
By the time they reached the hut, moonlight had already begun wrapping around the six brothers again.
One after another, feathers replaced hands.
Within moments only six white swans remained.
Hongjoong quietly opened the door. Together, he and Seonghwa cleaned and bandaged Y/N’s wounded hands as gently as they could.
Neither of them spoke. Some silences deserved to remain untouched.
The hut had never felt so small.
Seonghwa sat beside the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, unable to take his eyes off the sleeping woman.
The room smelled faintly of herbs, pinewood, and the broth Hongjoong had been stirring for the better part of an hour. Outside, winter covered the forest in silence. Snowflakes drifted lazily beyond the small window, softening the world until it almost looked peaceful.
His gaze drifted to Y/N’s hands.
Bandages wrapped each palm and finger where Hongjoong and he had carefully cleaned and dressed the countless cuts. Even now, despite the fresh linen, faint red spots slowly bled through in places.
He could still see the clearing.
The empty circle. The snow stained crimson. The impossible amount of flowers she’d gathered.
His stomach twisted.
Without thinking, he reached out and carefully brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.
She didn’t stir.
Her breathing remained slow and even.
She looked younger while she slept.
As if the prophecy had loosened ist grip for just a few hours.
He wished it could stay that way.
Behind him, Hongjoong tasted the soup with a wooden spoon.
„It still needs salt.“
Seonghwa didn’t answer.
Hongjoong glanced over his shoulder. „You’ve been staring at her for half an hour.“
Still nothing.
The spoon clinked softly against the pot.
„You know,“ Hongjoong continued, „if you keep looking at her like that, she’ll wake up simply because your worrying so much.“
Seonghwa exhaled quietly. „I don’t think this is worth it.“
The words surprised even him.
Hongjoong stopped stirring. „What?“
Seonghwa’s eyes never left Y/N.
„I don’t think…“
His voice caught for a moment.
„…that she should have to get hurt like this.“
Images flashed through his mind again.
Her trembling hands. The torn skin. Blood running over white snow. Silent tears.
„I can’t stop thinking about that field.“
He swallowed.
„There was so much blood.“
His fingers curled tightly together.
„And she never stopped.“
The hut fell quiet.
For once, Hongjoong had no joke ready.
He looked into the soup for several long moments before speaking.
„I was shaken too.“
His voice was softer than usual.
„I’ve known this curse almost as long as you.“
He stirred the soup absentmindedly.
„I’ve imagined someone breaking it more times than I can count.“
Another pause.
„I never imagined watching someone bleed for us.“
Seonghwa closed his eyes briefly.
„It should have been me.“
„No.“
„It should.“
„No.“
Hongjoong turned fully toward him.
„It isn’t your decision.“
Seonghwa frowned.
„It should be.“
„It isn’t.“
Hongjoong set the spoon down.
„Y/N isn’t doing this because someone forced her.“
„No.“
„She isn’t doing it because she owes us.“
„No.“
„She’s doing it because she chose to.“
His eyes softened.
„And if there’s one thing I’ve learned after all these centuries…“
A faint smile appeared.
„…it’s that trying to stop determined women is an excellent way to lose every argument.“
Despite himself, Seonghwa let out the smallest laugh.
Hongjoong smiled victoriously.
The moment didn’t last long.
A quiet rustling came from the bed.
Both men immediately looked over.
Y/N blinked slowly. Confusion clouded her eyes for only a heartbeat before recognition settled in.
She looked from Seonghwa to Hongjoong.
Then smiled faintly.
Relief hit Seonghwa so suddenly his shoulders almost sagged.
„You’re awake.“
She nodded.
„How are you feeling?“
Another nod.
„Does anything hurt?“
She hesitated.
Then nodded again.
„Your hands?“
A small nod.
„Your head?“
She shook it.
„Are you hungry?“
A pause.
Then another tiny nod.
Seonghwa smiled despite everything. „Good.“
Then all at once every question he’d been holding back spilled out.
„Did you eat anything while you were gone?“
„Were you cold?“
„How long were you there?“
„Did anyone hurt you?“
„Did you know what you were doing?“
„Were you frightened?“
„Did you—“
Y/N blinked at him.
Then slowly lifted one bandaged hand.
She pointed toward her throat.
Seonghwa frowned.
She opened her mouth.
No sound came.
Only silence.
His heart dropped.
„The trials…“ She nodded.
Understanding settled over the room.
The silence had begun.
Hongjoong snapped his fingers. „I have an idea.“
Both of them looked at him.
He disappeared into the corner of the hut, rummaging through old shelves until he returned carrying a small rectangular slate.
„I knew this thing would become useful one day.“
He placed the little blackboard into Y/N’s lap together with a piece of white chalk.
She looked at it.
Then at him. A smile slowly spread across her face.
She quickly scribbled a few words.
Thank you.
Hongjoong placed a hand dramatically over his heart. „See? I’m thoughtful.“
Y/N immediately wrote again.
Still hit me with a branch.
Hongjoong sighed. „I’ll never recover from that.“
Seonghwa laughed quietly.
Y/N’s smile widened.
She wrote once more. I’m okay.
Then looked directly at Seonghwa before adding another sentence.
Please stop worrying so much.
He looked down. „I can’t.“
She frowned slightly before writing again.
You should.
He shook his head..„You nearly died.“
She erased the words.
Then carefully wrote another. I came back, didn’t I?
He had no answer.
She continued. I’m stronger than I look.
Hongjoong looked between them. „I believe that.“
Y/N looked up proudly.
Hongjoong pointed toward her bandaged hands. „I also believe you’re completely insane.“
She grinned.
Probably.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly.
The blackboard became their conversation.
Hongjoong complained.
Y/N answered with dry remarks.
Seonghwa found himself smiling more often than he had in years.
When dawn eventually approached, Hongjoong sighed dramatically.
„My least favorite part of the day.“
He walked outside without another word.
Y/N looked questioningly at Seonghwa.
He nodded sadly.
Together they watched through the window.
Roots slowly climbed around Hongjoong’s boots.
Red leaves burst into existence around him.
Within moments, the familiar maple tree stood where his friend had been.
Y/N walked outside first.
Seonghwa followed.
The winter morning was quiet.
The red maple looked almost unreal against the endless white snow.
She gently rested one hand against the rough bark.
Then looked back at Seonghwa.
Neither spoke.
There was nothing to say.
Later that day, after checking snares deeper in the forest, Seonghwa returned carrying two rabbits over one shoulder.
Y/N sat outside beneath the maple tree.
Her sewing bag rested beside her.
She was sorting the star flowers carefully, laying them across clean cloth to dry.
He frowned immediately.
„You should be resting.“
She looked up.
„I mean it.“
He set the rabbits down.
„I’ll prepare everything.“
He gestured toward the flowers.
„I’ll gather firewood.“
Toward the hut.
„I’ll cook.“
Toward the stream.
„I’ll fetch water.“
He smiled gently.
„You don’t have to do the difficult work.“
She watched him quietly.
Something in her expression softened.
He looked away.
„I had that dream.“
The words escaped almost without permission.
„The night before we found you.“
She tilted her head.
„I saw you standing among those flowers.“
His voice became quieter.
„I saw your hands.“
He swallowed.
„I should have known it wasn’t just a dream.“
„I should have found you sooner.“
Y/N stood.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She crossed the few steps between them.
Then reached out with one bandaged hand and lightly touched his arm.
He looked down.
Then back at her.
She gently squeezed his sleeve until he met her eyes.
Determination shone there.
Not regret.
Not fear.
Only certainty.
Before he could ask what she meant, she rose onto her tiptoes.
His breath caught.
A feather-light kiss landed against his cheek.
So soft he almost believed he’d imagined it.
When she stepped back, his entire face felt warm.
His heart seemed to forget how it was supposed to beat.
Y/N picked up the blackboard.
She wrote slowly.
Her injured fingers clearly hurt.
Still, she smiled while writing.
She turned it toward him.
I came back because I wanted to.
She erased the words.
Then wrote another line.
Because I wanted to help you.
Nothing else.
No grand speech.
No explanation.
Just the simple truth.
Seonghwa looked at the words.
Then at her.
Winter sunlight broke through the clouds at that exact moment.
Golden light settled across the snowy clearing.
It caught in her hair.
Made the tiny snowflakes resting there sparkle.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold.
Her hands were wrapped in white bandages.
She looked exhausted.
She looked determined.
She looked more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen.
Not because she stood bathed in winter light.
Not because of the gentle smile she offered him.
But because despite every reason to turn around…
She had chosen to return.
She had chosen them.
And standing there before him, with courage stitched into every part of her being, Seonghwa realized something that frightened him almost as much as the prophecy itself.
He was already falling in love with her.
Winter settled over the forest with quiet determination.
Snow had buried every path long ago. The lake behind the hut had frozen into a mirror of pale blue ice, and each morning fresh frost painted delicate patterns across the windows before the fire had the chance to chase it away.
The forest had become silent.
The birds no longer sang at dawn, and even the wind seemed to lower its voice beneath the heavy blanket of snow.
Life had shrunk to the little wooden hut.
To shared meals.
To evenings illuminated by candlelight.
To stolen smiles.
To laughter.
To Y/N.
Somehow, without Seonghwa noticing when exactly it had happened, a month had passed.
A whole month.
It felt impossible.
At the same time, it felt as though she had always belonged there.
He knew now that she hated mushrooms but loved fresh bread straight from the oven, even if it burned her fingertips every single time. She always hummed while concentrating, never realizing she was doing it. Whenever she became frustrated, the tip of her tongue peeked out ever so slightly while she worked. She liked sitting beside the window whenever snow fell, simply watching it for long stretches without doing anything else.
She laughed with her whole body.
She cried quietly.
She apologized too often.
And every single morning she smiled at him as though seeing him was the most natural thing in the world.
He had fallen in love with her long before he admitted it to himself.
Perhaps it had happened centuries ago in those strange dreams.
Perhaps the moment she'd appeared outside the hut.
Or perhaps it happened every single day, little by little.
He wasn't entirely sure anymore.
All he knew was that his heart no longer seemed to belong entirely to him.
It belonged, at least partly, to the woman sitting across the room.
The hut glowed warmly beneath the evening light.
Outside, snow continued falling.
Inside, the fire crackled softly.
Y/N sat at the large wooden table.
The little blackboard leaned against a chair nearby while needles, thread and carefully folded fabric surrounded her.
The star flowers had changed completely.
Weeks ago they had merely been shimmering blossoms.
Now they had become thread.
Beautiful silver thread that almost glowed beneath candlelight.
She had spun every strand herself.
Her hands had healed enough to work again, though tiny pale scars crossed both palms now.
Scars Seonghwa noticed every single day.
Tonight she had begun the first shirt.
She had already measured every one of his brothers during their nightly visits.
Even Hongjoong.
Though Hongjoong had loudly declared that he possessed heroic proportions while everyone else insisted he was exaggerating.
Now careful stitches slowly joined the first pieces together.
The fabric shimmered faintly beneath her fingers.
Seonghwa stood by the stove.
Or at least he was supposed to.
Dinner had long since stopped progressing.
The soup simmered forgotten while he watched Y/N instead.
She didn't notice immediately.
Her entire focus rested on the tiny stitches.
Needle.
Thread.
Pull.
Repeat.
The movements fascinated him.
Every stitch looked deliberate. Gentle.
As though she poured a little piece of herself into each one.
Perhaps she did.
After several minutes she paused.
Without lifting her head she smiled softly.
Then looked toward him.
Her eyes met his.
One eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.
The silent question made him smile.
What?
He didn't answer.
Instead he found himself crossing the room.
One step. Then another.
Until he stood beside her.
She looked up expectantly.
He slowly lowered himself onto one knee before her chair.
Only then did he realize what he was doing.
His hands reached for hers almost on their own.
She let him.
Her fingers rested lightly within his palms.
He turned them over carefully.
The scars had faded. But they remained.
Tiny pale lines crossing skin that had once been torn open by countless thorns.
His thumb brushed gently across one of them. Almost absentmindedly.
"They're still there."
Y/N watched him quietly. Her expression softened.
She squeezed his fingers reassuringly.
He looked back down. "I know they don't hurt as much anymore."
She nodded.
"But..."
He sighed quietly. "I still remember finding you."
The clearing. The flowers. The snow.
Her sleeping beside the bag she refused to let go.
He swallowed. "I don't think I'll ever forget it."
Y/N's free hand gently squeezed his shoulder.
As though comforting him. Despite the fact she had been the one lying unconscious.
He looked up again.
Her cheeks had turned a soft pink.
Perhaps from the fire. Perhaps not.
"I think you should take a break."
She frowned slightly.
He continued. "Your hands deserve some rest."
She smiled.
Then reached for the blackboard.
The chalk scratched softly across its surface.
She turned it toward him.
You worry too much.
A tiny smile tugged at his mouth. "I know."
She erased the words.
Wrote again.
They're fine.
"They're healing."
She nodded enthusiastically.
"But that doesn't stop me worrying."
She tilted her head. Questioning.
He looked down at their joined hands. Then back into her eyes.
The words escaped before he had the chance to stop them.
"I don't think I can stop worrying."
His voice had become barely louder than a whisper.
"When you're..."
He hesitated. "...so important to me."
Silence.
The fire popped softly behind them.
Snow tapped gently against the window.
Seonghwa froze. His own words echoed inside his head.
So important to me.
Stars. He had actually said it aloud.
He should explain. Take it back. Pretend he meant something else.
Anything.
Instead he found himself unable to look away.
Y/N stared at him.
Not surprised. Not uncomfortable.
There was something shining inside her eyes.
Something warm. Something hopeful. Something he had never seen directed toward him before.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
He lifted one hand.
His fingers brushed gently against a loose strand of hair resting across her cheek.
He tucked it carefully behind her ear.
His fingertips lingered only for a heartbeat.
Her breathing had become slower.
So had his.
The room suddenly felt very quiet.
Very small.
He leaned forward almost without realizing it.
Just a little.
Y/N didn't move away.
If anything...
She leaned ever so slightly toward him too.
Their foreheads almost touched.
Then…The front door burst open.
"I HAVE RETURNED!"
Both of them jumped violently.
Seonghwa practically launched himself backwards.
His foot caught the leg of a chair. He lost his balance entirely.
And landed rather ungracefully on the floor.
Hongjoong stopped in the doorway.
Snow covered his shoulders.
He looked from Seonghwa...To Y/N...Back to Seonghwa.
Then slowly raised one eyebrow. "...Interesting."
Nobody spoke.
Hongjoong closed the door behind himself.
Very deliberately.
Then crossed his arms.
"I leave for one day."
Still silence.
"I become a tree."
Silence.
"I return."
More silence.
"And somehow I feel like I interrupted..."
He gestured vaguely between them. "...something."
Seonghwa's ears burned.
"There was nothing."
Hongjoong looked unconvinced. "Really?"
"Yes."
"You are sitting on the floor."
"I fell."
"Hm."
Hongjoong nodded thoughtfully. "Naturally."
Seonghwa stood perhaps a little too quickly.
"I simply lost my balance."
"While kneeling in front of Y/N."
"..."
"And staring at each other."
"..."
Hongjoong looked toward Y/N.
She had hidden most of her face behind the blackboard.
Only her eyes remained visible.
They looked suspiciously amused.
Hongjoong grinned. "I see."
Seonghwa rubbed a hand over his face. "You don't."
"I don't?"
"No."
"Hm."
Hongjoong accepted that far too easily. "Well..."
He shrugged. "Whatever happened..."
He looked at Seonghwa. "...I'm sure it was perfectly respectable."
"It was."
"I'm sure."
"It was."
"I believe you."
The problem was that Hongjoong sounded exactly like someone who believed absolutely nothing.
Y/N suddenly stood.
Saving Seonghwa from certain death by embarrassment.
She walked over carrying something folded carefully in both hands.
Hongjoong frowned. "What have you got there?"
She unfolded the fabric.
The first shirt.
Silver thread shimmered beneath the firelight. Every stitch looked impossibly precise.
Hongjoong's expression slowly changed.
The teasing disappeared completely. "You..."
He reached toward it carefully. "You finished one."
Y/N nodded proudly.
She pointed at him. Then at the shirt.
Hongjoong blinked. "...Me?"
She nodded again.
Understanding slowly dawned. "You want me to try it?"
Another enthusiastic nod.
Hongjoong looked toward Seonghwa. "...Should I?"
Seonghwa smiled softly. "I think she'd be disappointed if you didn't."
Hongjoong looked back at the shirt.
Then at Y/N.
For once he had no joke ready.
Carefully, almost reverently, he slipped the shimmering shirt over his head.
It fit perfectly.
The silver fabric seemed almost alive as it settled across his shoulders.
The room held its breath.
Hongjoong looked down at himself.
Then waited.
Nothing happened.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
Y/N's hopeful smile faltered just a little.
Hongjoong looked toward the window where dusk slowly deepened.
"...Well."
He forced a grin. "I suppose we'll find out at sunrise."
No one said it aloud. But all three of them were thinking exactly the same thing.
They hoped. With everything they had left. That tomorrow would be different.
The first shirt hadn't worked.
Y/N had known the moment the sun rose.
She had stood beside Seonghwa outside the hut, hopeful enough that her chest had almost hurt. Hongjoong had stretched, yawned dramatically, declared that today felt promising...
...and then roots had wrapped around his legs once more.
Red leaves had burst from his shoulders.
Within moments, the familiar maple tree stood where he had been.
The shirt had not torn.
It had transformed with him, disappearing into bark and branches as though the magic had simply accepted it as part of the curse.
Nothing had changed.
Y/N had smiled anyway.
Mostly for Seonghwa.
Later that evening she had cried quietly after everyone had gone to sleep.
Not because she had failed. Because she had been so certain.
Now another week had passed.
Winter had settled completely over the forest.
Snow piled high against the hut until only the chimney and the upper half of the windows remained visible from outside. The world beyond had become nothing but white silence and dark pine trees.
Inside, warmth wrapped around everything.
The fire crackled. Candles burned low.
Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor beside the table, surrounded by shimmering silver fabric.
The first shirt rested neatly folded beside her.
The remaining six were spread across her lap.
She had refused to give up.
If one shirt wasn't enough, then perhaps all of them together would be.
Needle after needle slipped through the strange fabric.
The thread glowed faintly in the candlelight.
Outside, Seonghwa had gone hunting hours ago.
The silence inside the hut should have felt lonely.
Instead it gave her too much room to think.
Which inevitably led her back to him.
Her fingers slowed.
She remembered that evening weeks ago.
Seonghwa kneeling in front of her. Holding her hands as though they were something precious. The way his thumbs had brushed over the scars on her palms. The way he had looked at her.
Not with pity. Not because of the prophecy.
Simply...Her.
Then his words.
You're so important to me.
Her cheeks warmed immediately.
She smiled to herself before quickly looking around the empty hut as though someone might have caught her.
She hadn't stopped thinking about it since.
Nor about what almost happened afterward.
If Hongjoong hadn't stormed inside...
Would Seonghwa really have kissed her? Would she have kissed him first?
The answer came embarrassingly quickly.
Yes.
Without hesitation.
She rested her forehead briefly against the half-finished shirt.
She wanted him to kiss her.
No.
If she was being honest, she wanted much more than that.
Her smile slowly faded.
Because another thought always followed.
Fate.
The word had become impossible to escape.
Had she ever truly chosen him? Or had the door chosen for her?
The dreams. The prophecy. The impossible connection they had shared before even meeting.
She loved him.
She knew that now.
She loved the way he quietly hummed while chopping vegetables.
The way he always offered her the warmest blanket without thinking. The tiny smile that appeared whenever Hongjoong complained dramatically. The patience he showed every living creature. The gentleness in his hands.
His kindness.
His quiet strength.
She loved him.
But would she have loved someone else if that strange blue door had never appeared?
Would she have met another man?
Built another life?
Or had every road she'd ever walked secretly led here?
Toward him?
Toward this tiny hut hidden beneath centuries of snow?
She honestly didn't know.
And perhaps it no longer mattered.
Because every morning she woke hoping to see him first.
Every evening she waited for the sound of the door opening.
That felt real enough.
The final stitch slipped into place.
Y/N blinked.
Then looked down.
All six shirts. Finished.
For a long moment she simply stared.
The little pile of shimmering silver fabric seemed almost unreal.
She had done it.
Weeks of spinning thread. Weaving cloth.
Measuring. Cutting. Sewing.
Her fingers still ached.
Fresh needle pricks joined the older scars left behind by the star flowers.
Yet somehow they were finished.
The door opened.
Cold winter air rushed inside.
"There you are."
Seonghwa stepped inside, snow clinging to his dark hair.
A deer rested across his shoulders.
His cheeks were pink from the cold.
He smiled the moment he saw her. "I got lucky today."
He carefully lowered the deer onto the wooden floor.
"I think if we preserve it properly we'll have enough meat for two weeks."
Y/N smiled brightly.
She pointed toward the table.
Seonghwa followed her gesture.
His eyes landed on the neatly folded shirts.
He froze.
The room became completely still.
"You..." His voice barely existed. "You finished them."
Y/N nodded.
A slow smile spread across her face.
For one heartbeat he simply stared.
Then suddenly he crossed the room. Far faster than she expected.
He dropped to his knees beside her. "No..."
His fingers carefully touched the top shirt.
Almost reverently.
"You actually..." He looked back at her. "They're finished."
She nodded again.
The next thing she knew, strong arms wrapped around her.
She gasped silently.
Seonghwa lifted her straight off the floor. She barely had time to grab onto his shoulders before he spun her around once.
Twice.
Laughter bubbled out of him. "I can't believe it."
He laughed again. "You actually did it."
He held her tightly. "So much work... So much pain..."
His forehead rested briefly against hers. "You're incredible."
Y/N couldn't stop smiling. "You truly are amazing."
His voice softened. "So unbelievably amazing."
He looked into her eyes.
The smile lingering on his face became gentler.
Warmer.
Then the words escaped. "I love you."
Silence.
Everything stopped.
Even Seonghwa seemed to realize what he'd said only after hearing it himself.
His eyes widened. He slowly set her back onto the floor.
"I..." He blinked. "I..."
For once Prince Seonghwa had absolutely no idea what to say.
"I didn't..."
His ears turned bright red. "I wasn't..."
He rubbed a hand over his face. "I suppose I was trying not to say that quite yet."
Y/N stared at him.
Her heart hammered painfully.
He looked almost horrified.
"I shouldn't have blurted it out like that."
He laughed awkwardly. "I wanted to tell you properly."
His words became increasingly tangled.
"And if..." He swallowed. "If you don't feel the same..."
"I understand. I truly do. I would never ask you to..."
He stopped when Y/N gently touched his sleeve.
She reached for the chalkboard.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she wrote.
She turned it toward him.
Are you serious?
He looked confused. "Of course."
She erased the words.
Wrote again.
Slower this time.
Not because of the prophecy?
She looked directly into his eyes.
Not because I came here for you?
Another sentence appeared.
Not because you feel like you have to?
The smile disappeared from Seonghwa's face.
He understood immediately.
He stepped closer. "No."
His answer came without hesitation. "I've asked myself that question too."
Y/N's breath caught.
"I wondered if I only felt this way because of the dreams."
He smiled softly. "But then I realized something."
He took both of her hands carefully into his own.
"I love the way you smile whenever it starts snowing. The way you secretly feed the birds the last crumbs of your bread. The way you wrinkle your nose when Hongjoong says something ridiculous."
She laughed silently.
"I love how stubborn you are. I love that you always believe people deserve another chance. I love that you apologize even when you don't have to. I love watching you sew because your whole face changes when you're concentrating."
He brushed his thumb gently across one of the tiny scars on her hand.
"I love that you make this hut feel like home."
His voice lowered. "I would have loved all those things even if no prophecy had ever existed."
He smiled. "And every day I discover another reason."
His eyes never left hers.
"So no. I don't love you because you came here to save us. I love you because you're you."
For several heartbeats she simply looked at him.
Then she set the chalkboard aside.
She reached up.
Rested one hand against his cheek.
And before she could lose the courage...she kissed him.
Softly at first.
Tentatively.
As though asking a question.
Seonghwa answered almost immediately.
His hands found her waist.
As though afraid she might disappear if he held her too tightly.
When they finally pulled apart, neither of them had moved very far.
Their foreheads rested together.
Both smiling. Both laughing quietly in disbelief.
"I've wanted to do that for weeks," Seonghwa admitted.
Y/N grinned.
Then kissed him again.
This time there was no hesitation.
Outside, snow continued falling over the silent forest.
Inside, the fire burned steadily as the little hut filled with warmth, laughter, whispered confessions, and the quiet certainty that two lonely hearts had finally found the home they had both been searching for.
The candles burned lower as the evening deepened.
The rest of the world disappeared beyond the falling snow.
And together, they let the night belong only to them.
Fairytale Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Seonghwas Masterlist
To read the other members Fairytale Retellings go to the Fairytale Masterlist
