Bananafuyu - Pekejunior

So it's always been you

᠀𓏲Cherry Blossom, March Event᠀𓏲

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: model!Jung Wooyoung x stylist!reader

᠀𓏲 Warning: cursing, mentions of a sex toy ᠀𓏲 Word count: 6k ᠀𓏲 Rating: nc-17 ᠀𓏲 Genre: fluff, soulmates: whenever you lose an item, it ends up in your soulmates' possession somehow, fashion week au, model x stylist romance, best friends to lovers, humour ᠀𓏲 Summary: Both young and restless, Wooyoung and you have started out your careers around the same time. As newbies in the industry, you quickly found yourselves sticking together and growing closer with each passing day. Now, many years down the line, everyone knows that you and Wooyoung are inseparable besties, who have each other's backs and will crack up at the stupidest of jokes. As his stylist, it's also convenient that whatever Wooyoung loses just magically turns up in your possession since he's known for losing his stuff often. It takes you quite the years to figure it out, but when you do eventually, everything just clicks in place, all of it making sense.

A/N: Ooh, and Wooyoung's part is here! Hello, my lovelies, I hope you are enjoying our event so far, the rest of the stories are just as exciting as the previous ones hehe. This one here is a little bit sillier and all the cuter, imo. Also, what were the chances of Wooyoung attending another fashion week right as I was supposed to write this drabble? Anyways, thank you Wooyoung for gracing us with your hotness, totally appreciate it hahaha. Thank you for your support so far and for all the feedback you've left! I love hearing your thoughts, so don't be shy and share them with me. I hope you enjoy this one! ^^ divider @cromernet

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@mizushimakumiko

The camera flash blinded you for a second as you squinted your eyes, trying to figure out just what was missing from the look. From a distance, everything looked perfect, but upon a closer look, you could tell something needed to be added to tie the whole outfit together. The flash went off again, and you bit your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed, as your eyes moved from your best friend onto the screen you were standing in front of.

“Alright, now tilt your pelvis forward and lean slightly back!” The photographer instructed as your eyes traced your best friend’s sharp features. He was a handsome man, unique-looking with features that few other models could claim. His sharp jawline and gorgeous nose would catch anyone’s eyes when flipping through a magazine, and the uneven form of his eyes made you stare at the man. His tan skin-complex was gorgeous under the sunlight, and you often found people staring at him—yourself included. You enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and as his best friend and stylist, you were supposed to admire Jung Wooyoung in order to create the perfect look for whatever occasion he needed you for professionally, “Oh! Raise your leg. Yes, that looks amazing!”

You smiled a little to yourself, eyes drawn to the pictures as the flash went off again and again, capturing Wooyoung’s sharp but ethereal beauty. He wore black clothes today, the scaly silver vest standing out nicely against the rest of the clothes. But the longer you looked at the picture, the more you started realizing that Wooyoung forgot to wear a piece…again. He was an airhead on the worst of days, forgetting his stuff in his room—or worse, in a spot where you’d never find it again—or he’d downright lose his things. Luckily, his best friend, you, were always there to find whatever he had lost previously. You felt like your mother sometimes, reaching inside Wooyoung’s closet just to find the item he was complaining about not being there…being exactly there. It’s like your hands yielded magic like none other, like magnets to anything that was owned by Jung Wooyoung. You sighed as you shook your head, and your assistant raised her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, tone tinged with slight concern, “Do you not like the lighting? Are the angles bad? Should I tell the photographer we’re done for today?! I mean, I know he’s a newbie, but he’s really—”

“Relax,” You chuckled, grabbing her shoulder to squeeze it, “Everything’s fine. Wooyoung just forgot to put on his necklace. I’ll be right back.”

Your assistant visibly relaxed, and you watched her reach for her iced coffee, her hand slightly shaking as she raised the cup to her mouth. One would think she was Wooyoung’s manager by how much she fussed over the man, ordering the staff around if something seemed off to make sure Wooyoung had everything he needed. You left the room, walking down the hallway towards the dressing cabin, glancing at your wristwatch. It was getting late, and you were hungry. You still had to pack a bit, and your flight was in just two days. Wooyoung, much to the both of your joy, had been invited to the Paris Fashion Week. It’s been a longtime dream of his, and due to his perseverance and determination, he was finally living out his dream. And through him, by being by his side, you were also thriving like never before.

Wooyoung and you had met a good six years ago, when you were both too young and too dumb to realise what it meant working in the fashion industry. Wooyoung was just starting his modelling career, and you had been assigned your first big and important job as a stylist. Until then, you had been shadowing a well-known designer, sticking to his side to learn absolutely everything. Wooyoung, on the other hand, had no one to rely on. He came from a relatively modest family, and his parents hadn’t been the happiest when Wooyoung had told them about his career choice, but they didn’t stop him from following through with his wishes. It was a good thing, you knew how much it meant to have your parents’ support in anything you did. Your mother worked as a fashion article editor at one of the more well-known magazines, so to break in, you didn’t have to do as much hard work as Wooyoung did. And yet, the day you two had met, you both had felt like little unassuming kids, clinging onto each other for a little reassurance that you were doing well and not possibly about to ruin your careers before they could even start. After that first job of your lives, Wooyoung asked whether you wanted to get chicken wings with him, and, well, you’ve been having chicken wings with him after shoots ever since.

You smiled slightly at the memory, knowing well that Wooyoung would drag you to the nearest place that sold chicken wings and Soju, eager to end the day with a little alcohol in his system. He wasn’t a big drinker, but celebrating your success after a long day was always a must in Wooyoung’s book. First, you looked around the dressing room, thinking where the necklace could be lying, deciding to sift through all the discarded makeup on the tables. It wouldn’t be the first time that your jewellery got mixed up with the beauty items, but a quick sweep over the table proved that it wasn’t there. Next, you looked all over the sofas, coffee tables, and even inside Wooyoung’s duffel bag, only to come up empty-handed. Then, deciding that maybe it really was you who hadn’t handed Wooyoung the necklace, you went to your jewellery box and opened it, your eyebrows furrowed. You looked through it, making sure the fragile necklaces were safely in their protective cases—or else the brands you had rented them from would kill you and tarnish your name for an eternity—and still, it wasn’t there. You groaned as you stood up straight, trying to think harder, mentally rewinding your day to see whether you had left it at your office. Coming up empty-handed, you sighed in defeat and crossed your arms over your torso, pursing your lips as you turned to leave. Taking three steps away from your stuff, your eyes caught the unmistakable glint of diamonds peeking out from right underneath the grey blanket Wooyoung had used to cover himself with before walking to the shoot.

You scoffed and shook your head in mild annoyance, stomping over to the beanbag before you ripped the blanket off, the necklace glinting almost mockingly at you. You pursed your lips and carefully took it, holding it gingerly as you hurried back to the shooting room, just in time as the photographer called for a quick water break. He walked over to his computer with his professional camera, smiling at your assistant and then turning his head to the visual director to discuss more set ideas and poses that enunciated the clothes Wooyoung wore. Your eyes narrowed at your best friend as you stepped over all the wires, stepping out of your heels to not dirty the white canvas he stood on. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, opening his mouth to probably mock you for losing from your height quite significantly, but instead pointed at the necklace in your hands as a squeak left his mouth.

“Where’d you find that?!” He asked amazed, approaching you with excitement, “I’ve lost that this morning when Claire called me over for makeup.”

“Of course,” You scoffed as you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes at Wooyoung, “How many times have I told you that you can’t lose designer stuff when it’s rented, Wooyoung?! Do you think I have the money to pay for a necklace filled with diamonds if something happens to it?!”

The cheeky smirk already told you that you wouldn’t like his answer, “No, but I can certainly afford it.”

You groaned and slapped his arm not so gently, making Wooyoung whine before he started pouting, “Stop that; you’re acting like a spoiled brat in front of everyone. Now, lean forward for me, please.”

Wooyoung grinned and parted his legs slightly, leaning forward so that his face was positioned exactly in front of yours. He giggled and then stuck his tongue out when you two made eye contact, making you glare at him playfully before you reached forward, wrapping the diamond necklace around his warm neck. The design was special and intricate, and you loved the way it sat against Wooyoung’s skin. It sat tightly at the base of his neck, almost like a choker, the little diamonds glinting even brighter under the studio lights, and that wasn’t even what made it so special. You had to clasp the necklace together at the front of your neck because of the dangling chain that reached a little above Wooyoung’s belly button. It was exactly what Wooyoung’s outfit needed to make him look like the star he was, shining brightly under the white camera lights. Wooyoung’s eyes creased as he smiled at you sweetly, patting your head gently as a means of thanks.

“Now it’s perfect.” You muttered as you adjusted his collar once more, smoothing down the already smooth vest against his shoulders, but you just had to double-check everything. Wooyoung’s chest was exposed due to the very low V-neckline of the black sleeveless blouse he wore, tucked inside pants that flared around his legs and made his limbs seem longer. The chunky high heels he wore added to the charm, of course, but even without them, the pantlegs made Wooyoung’s legs seem like they stretched on for far longer as they pooled around his ankles. You had avoided using a belt since the emphasis was on the shiny scaled vest, heavy in your hands as you had helped Wooyoung into it. And now, with the diamond necklace around his neck, he looked like the model that was supposed to be on the cover of Vogue—which he would be with this issue. His long hair was whisked out of his face, and a few stray strands fell into his eyes, curling around his nape, with strands pinned behind his ears.

“Am I all ready to conquer the fashion world, Miss?” Wooyoung quirked an eyebrow as he stood up straight, looming over you and making you feel weird. You blamed those damn high heels and the fact that you had to be barefoot right now.

“Of course, you are, Mr. Jung.” You grinned and patted his chest, “You’re already a star.”

“The brightest, hopefully,” Wooyoung added, slightly quieter, and you hummed, offering him a small smile.

“To me, definitely.” He chuckled at your quiet reply, but you could see it on his face that it gave him the reassurance and little confident boost that he just so needed right now. You heard a clap behind you, and you knew it was your cue to leave Wooyoung alone, so you winked at him and then turned around, walking to your heels to step into them, then joined your assistant behind the scenes. The photographer grinned at Wooyoung as a stool was brought in, the background changing to a grey as a spotlight was focused on Wooyoung.

“Oh, this is really pretty.” The man muttered to himself, but you, being closer to him, heard it, “This is amazing, Wooyoung! Just do whatever feels good right now, grab your necklace, throw your head back, run your fingers through your hair, give me your most fierce glare—anything will do right now!”

“He’s so enthusiastic.” Wooyoung’s makeup artist chimed up behind you with a chuckle, back from his lunch break.

“I would be, too, if I got the chance to work with the Jung Wooyoung.” There was a slightly dreamy tone to your assistant’s voice, and you chuckled, giving her a questioning look.

“You do work with the Jung Wooyoung, though.” Your assistant flushed as she lowered her head, averting her eyes when the makeup artist started laughing a little too loudly. You elbowed him in the stomach, giving him a look that told him to shut up.

“Right,” The assistant muttered, pouting slightly, “He’s just so beautiful, it’s hard not to fall for him—not that I’m in love with him! It’s just—it’s good working with him; he’s a good person.”

“He really is,” You agreed as you watched your best friend do what he knew best, staring into the lens of the camera like a lion, fearless and ready to conquer, “Except when he’s yapping your ears off after a long day. Then, he’s the devil.”

Your co-workers chuckled at your playful jab, but they didn’t know it as well as you what it meant to ride back home in the same car with Jung Wooyoung after a very long and very tiring day, while all you wish for is to relax and be surrounded by silence, only for Wooyoung to either tell you random things he’s suddenly remembered, or ask the driver to turn up the music to scream the lyrics at the top of his lungs. And his voice wasn’t good, that’s why he was a model and not an idol.

Being Wooyoung’s best friend has changed you over the years. While growing up, you were never too outspoken, too scared of hurting others. You didn’t like being in the limelight and also tried to suck up to your superiors, thinking that would get you on their good side, making you a booked and busy stylist. That wasn’t the case, however, and if there was one essential thing you learned from Wooyoung, it was the fact that you shouldn’t stay silent if faced with mistreatment, you shouldn’t let anyone walk all over you or make you feel like shit for something you thought looked gorgeous. Being on Wooyoung’s side, working alongside him in a toxic industry that required you to have steel balls, is just who you became—an outspoken and honest person, unafraid to point out injustice or bullying. But by being Wooyoung’s best friend, you have also learned to laugh more, to cry without feeling embarrassed or weak, and the most important thing that he’s taught you…was to never let him go past five shots of Soju unless you wanted to stay up all night as Wooyoung sobbed with his head resting on the toilet seat, promising to never again drink alcohol. A week later, he was found dancing on top of tables with two cocktails in his hands. But these were the old times, times when you could act however you wanted, a bit more carefree and less stressed.

You couldn’t tell how it happened or when it started, but being by Wooyoung’s side just felt right. You didn’t feel the need to act a certain way in his presence; you could snort like a pig and wheeze like a witch, and no judgment would cross his features. You could also bare your heart to him, bleeding and aching, and he wouldn’t try to use your insecurities against you in the future. No, he’d make sure they were locked away from the rest of the world, even if he was mad at you. Wooyoung was a good person, and you were thankful you had met him. In a world where finding your soulmate was no easy feat, for some reason, you didn’t feel like you had to actively search for them. At times, you wondered if they were even real—the legend of your lost things wounding up in your soulmate’s possession—but then again, you were sure it was real because it happened to your parents, your aunts and uncles, and even your grandparents. It felt a bit silly and slightly concerning when you thought of all the things you managed to lose over the years, and yet, in some magical way, your possessions always turned back up in your hands. That is why you weren’t so sure of the prophecy anymore, of the invisible red string—or just a really smelly sock—that tied you to your fated lover.

You sighed as you swiped past three pictures of models clad in designer clothes, not quite pleased with the outfits. The light jazz music in the background was calming as your left leg bounced up and down, wine glass in the hand that didn’t hold the iPad. You could hear Wooyoung humming along to the music from the kitchen, tinkering about as if he was a kitchen fairy. You were over for dinner—which was unsurprising to anyone—for a good home-cooked meal before you’d depart to France. You hated flying, and the thought of being stuck inside an airplane for so many hours had your heart racing, but seeing Wooyoung’s relaxed demeanour calmed you a bit.

“The pasta’s almost done.” Came Wooyoung's voice as he appeared in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. For someone as rich as Wooyoung, he certainly had no desire to flaunt his wealth around, judging based on his timid and cosy apartment. Hell, even his home in Paris was more flamboyant, screaming richness and big-city boy. The AMG cabriolet in the parking garage, however, did hint at your best friend’s wealth, “Have you made any progress?”

You sighed and shook your head, prompting Wooyoung to walk over. He wasn’t drinking tonight, said the pasta would puff him up, so he didn’t want to ruin his skin by also drinking. It was not that wine would cause more harm to his flawless complexion; it was just hard to move Wooyoung once he was convinced of something.

“I can’t find anything I like.” You muttered before you took a sip of your wine, swiping to the next picture. The leather pants looked good on the model; they weren’t skin tight, but they were low rise. You wondered if Wooyoung would like it just as he plopped down on the soft sofa.

“How about something I like?” He raised an eyebrow cheekily, and you chuckled, shuffling around to sit cross-legged. Your knee brushed against Wooyoung’s thigh, and his body seemed to melt back into the cushions as he leaned towards you, relaxing into your side. You smiled as you turned your iPad to show him the model and outfit.

“How about these pants?” You asked, remembering Wooyoung’s preferences, which rarely changed.

“Oh, they look nice.” Wooyoung hummed, zooming in on the picture, “I want these.”

“You do?” You asked, surprised, turning your head to look at your best friend. Wooyoung was a physically affectionate person, and once you had gotten used to it, you craved it if he didn’t give it to you. You liked it when he cosied up into your side, and in the rare moments when you both were too exhausted to drive home from each other’s apartments, you’d end up falling asleep together, cuddled up. You didn’t think it was very normal to say you really liked falling asleep in Wooyoung’s arms, so you kept that thought locked away deep down in your mind. You tried not to think about the fact that being around your best friend just felt right, a feeling you never got around anyone. One of your aunts had once told you that when she met her husband, she knew it was him because, one, she had lost her panties at customs somehow, and two, when their eyes met, this overwhelming calmness numbed her mind, everything about the man seemingly just…right. You sighed and shook your head when you felt Wooyoung looking at you with a questioning look on his face, “Sorry, the wine’s getting to me. What did you say?”

Wooyoung chuckled, then ruffled your hair with teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have to be on your A game if you expect me to take you with me to Paris, Missy. But I was saying…do you think it’d be too much if I showed more skin this time?”

Your eyes slightly widened, but you shook your head with pursed lips, “On the contrary, you’d hit the headlines, Mr. Jung. More headlines mean more engagement and curiosity—and what does that mean?”

“More money, more power, more wealth!” You singsonged at the same time before you burst out laughing, making Wooyoung groan.

“Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?” He pouted, then took the iPad from your hands to swipe through the outfits you had selected as potential looks for his Fashion Week appearance, “I knew I shouldn’t have introduced you to Jongho; now you’re a monster of capitalism as well.”

You laughed and subconsciously leaned your head against Wooyoung’s shoulder, sighing loudly once you settled down. You played with your glass of wine as you watched the pictures Wooyoung was swiping through way too fast to see anything, or so you thought because he made a surprised sound, quickly swiping back.

“Oh! I like this one!” He was pointing at a jacket; you hummed in acknowledgment.

“I thought I was your stylist.” You jabbed playfully, and Wooyoung laughed, putting down the iPad as he turned his head to look down at you. You slightly pulled your head off his shoulder, downing the rest of your wine.

“I just merely helped out. You can add the accessories and worry about the hairstyle and makeup.” You nodded but then realised his outfit wasn’t just yet complete.

“Right, and I also have to find you a shirt.” A beat of silence passed as a small smirk crept onto Wooyoung’s lips.

“Or not.”

“Or not?”

“Remember we just said more money, more power, more wealth?” You quirked an eyebrow as Wooyoung stood, slapping your thigh away playfully as you yelped in surprise, “Well, I’m working on just that, my dear.”

“So, no jacket, noted.” You muttered, favouriting the two pictures Wooyoung said he liked. You’d have to forward them to the brand tonight if you wanted the clothing items on Wooyoung in just three days, “By the way, have you seen my beaded bracelet?”

“The one I won for you as a joke at the fair?” You hummed, and Wooyoung shrugged, “Nope, why?”

“I lost it…again.” You whined as you threw your head back against the sofa, groaning as you wrist felt empty without it. Wooyoung had gotten you that bracelet five years ago. You rarely took it off, and yet you had managed to lose it anytime you did, which would make this one the fourth time you did. Your heart clenched at the thought of having actually lost the bracelet this time, but you were distracted by Wooyoung’s stomps as they came back towards you. You hadn’t even noticed him walking back inside the kitchen.

“Idiot,” Wooyoung huffed, then you felt something hit the side of your head, making you squeak in surprise, “You left it on the counter.”

You turned your head and looked down at the sofa, eyes widening as the beaded bracelet now lay next to you.

“I swear I didn’t!” You defended yourself, grabbing the bracelet to wear it, “I couldn’t find it since the photoshoot!”

“Yeah, whatever.” Wooyoung waved you off with dismissal as he headed back inside the kitchen, “Come eat, the pasta’s done. I’m going to bed early tonight.”

“Are you kicking me out, Jung Wooyoung?!” You raised your voice as you got off the sofa, grabbing your empty wine glass to bring to the kitchen.

“Hell, yeah, I am! Did you finish packing?”

He got you there. At your silence, Wooyoung just had a knowing smirk on his face. Fuck, and your flight was early in the morning tomorrow.

The whole place was a mess, and it was all your fault. You hadn’t even unpacked yet, even though you should have since you were staying here for a week. But you were usually too lazy to unpack, so your things ended up all over the floor and around your luggage. And this time, like many other times, that came to bite you back in the ass. You were pushing around the piles of clothes, mainly trying to find the top you had selected to wear for the event, but also because you had a bad feeling that you had lost…well, an item that you certainly didn’t wish anyone else to find. Not because it was embarrassing to own it, but because it was a bit…questionable. Your girlfriends had gotten it as a joke for your birthday last year, and well, the joke turned into an actually very appreciated gift by you. You sighed and fell back onto your ass, the floorboards warm since they had heating installed in them. Unlike the rest of your team, you had the privilege of staying with Wooyoung in his fancy apartment in Paris while you were here for Fashion Week. Today was the big day, and you were waiting for the makeup team to arrive. You and Wooyoung had gotten up early and had breakfast, serving a small cup of coffee on the balcony that overlooked the city, and for some reason, you started feeling nostalgic about all the things you’d gone through together to get here.

Wooyoung was affectionate but rarely the extra clingy type with you, so when he hugged you out on the balcony and thanked you for being by his side and encouraging him like no one else, you almost teared up. You also chose to ignore the weird flutter of your heart since this was your best friend, the guy you’d walk through fire for. Sighing again, you decided to give your clothes another dive when you heard a loud screech coming from outside your room. You jumped in fright and turned your body, listening for any other sounds. You doubted anyone had broken inside the apartment, but then again, why was Wooyoung reacting so strangely? Deciding you could find your top five minutes later, too, you ripped your door open and took about three steps outside before you froze, blood running cold and jaw dropping open.

“What the fuck?!” You asked, eyes on the ridged orange-purple dildo in Wooyoung’s hand. He had a weird expression on his face, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and it didn’t help that his blush spread from his neck down to his exposed chest. He was also in the middle of wearing his clothes, apparently; the button of his leather pants wasn’t even buttoned yet. Your initial shock barely seemed to pass, but then you felt laughter bubbling past your lips. Wooyoung’s mouth opened, but it seemed like he didn’t know what to say as he looked between you and his extended hand, “I had no idea you were into stuff like that.”

A beat of silence passed before Wooyoung’s whole expression turned flabbergasted, and it’s been too long since you heard your best friend lamely tumble over his own words, “What?! That’s—this isn’t mine! This is a dildo, bro! Why would I own a dildo?! I don’t—not that I have anything against taking it up the ass—I mean, I heard it feels good sometimes—wait! Forget I said that! Oh my god, I swear it’s not mine!”

“Then whose is it?” You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to laugh in Wooyoung’s face again. The problem, however, was that the dildo looked suspiciously similar to the one you had been looking for this morning…the item that you had packed before leaving and was now nowhere in your luggage. You gulped, and suddenly your throat felt dry as warmth crept up your neck and cheeks. Wooyoung noticed your sudden demeanour shift and looked down at the dildo in his hand, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Whose is it, you ask?” Fuck, you hated your life as Wooyoung’s head fell back, a hauntingly shrill laughter leaving his mouth, “I had no idea you were into monster cocks—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You shrieked as you stormed towards him, slapping your hand over his mouth as you ripped your dildo out of his hand, feeling mortified that your best friend had seen it. Your friendship transcended many boundaries, but not this one. This one was too intimate and definitely something you didn’t want Wooyoung knowing about, “I’m going to kill you, Woo, if you say anything to anyone about this.”

Wooyoung snorted as you released his mouth, raising an eyebrow mockingly, “Who am I going to tell? Your assistant? My makeup artist—wait, he might actually have better suggestions—”

“Wooyoung!” You screamed and slapped his chest, the sound loud as Wooyoung whined, cradling his naked chest as he gave you a pout.

“Hey, if that leaves a handprint, I’m posting your dildo on SNS.” Your eyes bulged out of your head, mortified all over again.

“Just—God, forget this happened! Delete it out of your memory, or something—don’t look at me like that!” But Wooyoung was cackling again, and because you had the sudden urge to shove him back and whine until he stopped making fun of you, you decided to storm back inside your room with your whole face beet red. You heard Wooyoung’s footsteps follow after you, but you still slammed the door shut for effect. He laughed before he nudged the door open, leaning against the doorframe as you shoved the dildo far underneath your pile of clothes. You still had to find your top, but currently, all you wished to do was jump off the balcony. Just how did your damn dildo end up in Wooyoung’s possession? You were sure you had packed it and then that you lost it somewhere underneath all the clothes, so just how did it turn up in Wooyoung’s bedroom? This felt like the end of the world as you groaned loudly, shaking your head. You expected Wooyoung to make another comment about the dildo, but instead, he said something else that made you flush again.

“Wear a jacket over your bra, and we’ll be matching.” Man, he just had to make everything worse. Your head turned sharply as you narrowed your eyes at Wooyoung, conscious that your torso was also bare except for your bra.

“I’m not going out there in a bra and jacket, Wooyoung.”

“Pity, everyone would see we belong together.”

And you had no time to question his words because the doorbell rang, signalling that the makeup team was here.

Today had been a successful day. The media was obsessed with Wooyoung, outlets were talking about him and wanting his attention and time while you were in Paris, so you couldn’t be prouder and happier. You loved watching your best friend from the sidelines as he shined like the star he was, deserving of all the adoration and appreciation. Wooyoung was a confident man, but even he had his lapses of judgment. It felt right to support him from the shadows, but it also felt right when he ran up to you after the event to squeeze you tight, lift you off the ground and twirl you around as you both giggled. Yeah, teenager you would’ve never believed you’d once actually achieve your dreams, especially not while finding a best friend for life in the process. You were so happy that it threatened to overspill, and you had no idea what to do with it, so you just settled on smiling until your cheeks hurt, but you didn’t care.

It was the evening now, and you were getting ready to go out for a celebratory dinner with the whole team. Your assistant had been bugging you with restaurants the whole afternoon, and in the end, you just told her to choose whatever she liked. She was over the moon and told you that you could trust her to choose only the best, and you believed her because ever since she started working for you, she had been excelling at her job. Your satin black dress was flowy and simple, a turtleneck that had to be clasped together, so Wooyoung had helped you before you struggled into your white stilettos. Now, you were trying to get your diamond earrings in—a present you got three years ago from Wooyoung—but you dropped the left one. You sighed and bent to pick it up—but it disappeared. You blinked, confused and slightly startled, looking at the empty floor. It was there a second ago, and now it was nowhere. You muttered a curse under your breath as you stood up straight, looking at the dresser to convince yourself you weren’t hallucinating, and indeed, the earring wasn’t there either.

“Hey,” You flinched and whirled around, no doubt looking like you’ve seen a ghost, “Did you lose your earring?”

There, in Wooyoung’s palm, lay the earring you had dropped seconds ago. Your mouth fell open as your heart started racing, your ears ringing as you found yourself unable to speak. Your body was jittery all of a sudden, cheeks warm as you kept staring at Wooyoung with a newfound understanding. Before you could utter the words that sounded completely mental even to yourself, Wooyoung continued, “Have you seen my wrist cuff? I think I dropped it somewhere—”

And no, you hadn’t seen the wrist cuff before, but now, yes, it was suddenly in your goddamn hand. Wooyoung’s words died out in his throat, eyes bulging wide as he gaped at you in shock. His breathing got faster and you watched his hands tremble as he looked down at your earring in his palm, and yeah, holy shit, all this time it’s been Jung Wooyoung.

“Fuck, what the fuck?!” Wooyoung whispered to yourself, approaching you with sparkling eyes, “It’s—me. And then—it’s you. We are—Y/N, are we—”

“We are soulmates, Wooyoung, holy shit!” You whispered back, still in disbelief, all those years of being by each other’s side suddenly replaying in front of your eyes as if you were watching a movie. How could you be so dense that you didn’t realise until now?!

“Wooyoung.”

“Y/N.” And then Wooyoung was laughing, cupping your face as he closed the distance, “We are so fucking dumb.”

You would’ve laughed, but Wooyoung’s warm lips were pressed against yours, and he tasted like grapes, so weird yet so addicting. You’ve never fantasised about kissing your best friend before—no, your soulmate—but as your bodies pressed together now, you couldn’t imagine living anymore without this. You fit together perfectly as if you were made for each other—which, unironically, you were—and it all felt surreal as your lips moved languidly against Wooyoung’s, so right and all so warm and fuzzy. His hand was gentle on your cheek as he caressed it, and your fingers twisted his ironed shirt as you hoped this moment never ended. All these years, your soulmate was right next to you, reachable and available, and you were living in the belief that the legend was nothing but that, a silly legend to keep everyone dreaming about the moment they’d find the one. And no, it wasn’t just a legend anymore; it was as real as it could get.

“We are idiots.” You muttered as you pulled back, pressing small kisses against Wooyoung’s lips, who tried to chase after your mouth when you detached yourself from him, “We have to get ready; the car will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Screw dinner, I want to stay here with you.”

“Wooyoung, we already know each other.”

“Yes, as best friends, but this—this is a new version of us.”

“Is it, really? Or will you lose your damn wrist cuff the second I turn my back to you?”

You both giggled, and you closed your eyes when Wooyoung kissed you again, slow and tender.

“Okay, whatever, let’s get dinner, but when we get back—”

“We will sleep because I’m completely exhausted.”

The spark of hope died out in Wooyoung’s eyes for a second, but it was swiftly back, “In the same bed?”

“Yes, in the same bed, Wooyoung.”

He fist-bumped the air, and you laughed, staring adoringly at your best friend turned soulmate. Oh, your life will be filled with so much happiness and love; this was everything you could’ve ever wished for. Maybe it is too early to say, but you loved Jung Wooyoung—your best friend, your soulmate.

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bananafuyu

1 month ago

PREPARE TO GET SICK OF ME ❗️❗️❗️