@ikissjude - Tumblr Blog

Sep 23, 2025

NEED A RIDE?

★ Street Racer! Wooyoung x Fem Street Racer! Reader ★

★ Genre: Street racer au, Enemies to Lovers trope, Slow burn, Attempt at humour!!! Plot with smut? Smut (18+, MDNI!!!!)

★ Warnings: Reader and Wooyoung have toxic traits. Betting, Alcohol mention, Weed mention, Smoking, Oral (fem receiving), Implied squirting, Spit play??, Unprotected sex. Sex while under the influence (all consensual), Implied driving under the influence of weed.

★ Visuals: Mood-board Outfit inspo

★ Playlist

DISCLAIMER: This is not intended to represent Wooyoung or any of the other individuals involved. This is a work of fiction!!! Please read the content warnings and feel free to let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Notes: I've been playing a lot of Need for Speed Unbound and I needed to itch this scratch! I can't even drive, I'm license-less :( so enjoy my attempt at understanding driving. It has an 18K word count...I got carried away :3

The second Friday of every month, race night. Your favourite. The one time you could unleash everything your car was built for.

This month, you’d been working on it tirelessly. Pulled back from the usual shop jobs, cleared your schedule, and finally gave your own car the attention she’d been begging for. The neglect had gone on for too long, and you felt it every time you looked at her.

A Nissan Silvia S13. Your first and only drift car, her body gleams in glossy black, scattered with chrome stars that trail across the rear panels and dance down the sides like constellations in motion. The interior is just as bold: black leather stitched with hot pink accents.

She’s been through it all. Every crash, every win, big payouts and brutal losses. She even carried you through a road trip after your first breakup sent you spiralling and you needed to disappear for a while.

Spring into early summer was always the busiest at your Customs Garage. Everyone wanted upgrades, fresh wraps, louder exhausts. It was peak racing season, the time when even amateurs thought they could handle the streets. But they’d vanish as soon as the weather turned. Too dangerous. Too real.

But not you. You lived for this. Always have.

You moved from London to Korea at 13, dragged across the world because your Mum's job demanded it. You didn’t ask for this, and you definitely didn’t welcome it.

The whole situation felt like a punishment. You’d been stripped of the life you knew and loved, and you weren’t shy about showing your resentment. And on top of that navigating the Korean school system was brutal. You only managed to make three real friends: Kim Ji-woo (goes by Chuu), who was just too cute not to make friends with. Kang Yeosang who always tried to make you feel comfortable, even spoke to you in broken English as he gave you a tour of the grounds. And lastly Huh Yun-jin, who spoke English and spent most of her time patiently trying to teach you Korean. You clung to her, grateful for the lifeline and she never seemed to mind.

This was also when you first crossed paths with Wooyoung and his loyal entourage. Well, friends, technically. Seonghwa, Jongho, and Hongjoong. They didn’t take well to your sharp tongue, and you definitely didn’t take kindly to their smug “I think i'm hard” energy. Especially Wooyoung’s. From the very beginning, it was constant clashing. Enemies, no question.

What made it worse? You were into cars. Just like him.

And he hated that. The idea that his “archnemesis” shared his passion? Unacceptable. Absolutely devastating. Cars were his thing, their domain. And in his mind, they weren’t meant for girls. Especially not girls who’d just moved from London, armed with a bad attitude and something to prove.

You didn’t just threaten his ego. You challenged his identity.

And he never forgot it.

Cars had always been your thing. With a brother who was obsessed, it was only natural that you grew up loving the sound of screeching tires and the thrill of speed. But for you, it was more than just a hobby, it was a connection to home, to family.

You spent most of your free time tinkering with cars alongside him, and when he started working at a customs shop, you’d tag along whenever you could. Watching and learning.

And eventually when you were finally old enough to drive, you knew exactly what you wanted: to race and mod.

Now you’re one of the most sought-after car modders on this side of Seoul.

Yeosangie: Heading out. Meet you there? *W*

Y/N: Yeah, see you soon :3

You grabbed your bag and keys, gave yourself one last look in the mirror, and headed out. Pulling up to your usual spot, the familiar scent of petrol and burning rubber hit you like a wave. Your pulse quickened, adrenaline already pumping. It had been a while since you raced. You’d spent the last few months on the sidelines, spectating.

A tap on your hood snapped you back to reality. Kim Ji-woo came to lean against your passenger side window, her face lit up with the biggest smile imaginable. “You’re racing tonight! Please tell me you’re racing.” You smirked, ignoring her question as you stepped out of the car. Leaning down, you used your side mirror to reapply your liner and lip gloss. With a dramatic smack of your lips, you replied with faux innocence “Chuu babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You’d been showing up with Yeosang lately, between the chaos at the shop and finally giving your own car the attention it deserved, hitching a ride had just been easier.

But it also meant your car hadn’t made an appearance in a while. And seeing as Chuu was your passenger princess for most races, this was enough to spark curiosity. She’d been watching the scene closely, waiting for the moment your pride and joy rolled back in.

You both burst into giggles. “If I knew you were racing tonight, I would’ve gone all out! Can I ride tonight?” “I’m drifting tonight. You know I can’t have distractions.” Chu pouted at your words. “No, come on now, don’t pout. You know I can’t say no when you do that.” She sighed dramatically. “FINE. But next time I’m riding. Nobody else, okay?”

You were still laughing when you heard footsteps approaching. “Hey Y/N!” Yeosang’s voice rang out from behind you. You spun on your heels and greeted him with a big hug. “Sangieee! Oh my god, where have you been? Wait…where’s your car?”

You glanced around, noticing his usual spot to your left was empty. “Ha, yeah, funny story” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Took it for a spin earlier in the week and had the bumper kiss a pillar a little too hard…Dropped it off at the shop today. Left it with your brother.”

Your jaw went slack. “Kang Yeosang. You have five seconds to run before things get ugly.” “I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, OKAY?” he said, backing away quickly.

It wasn’t the first time and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. You’d spent two weeks fixing the last mess he made. A burnt-out gearbox, a full replacement, and a new wrap after he drifted too close to the sun and scratched the entire left side of his car. Honestly, you were starting to think he shouldn’t even have a license.

“You’re paying for this round of repairs.” you said, gripping his shoulder firmly and flashing a wicked grin.

You all decided to mingle, make your way through the crowd chatting with friends, catching up with familiar faces, and checking in on clients who’d had work done by you. It was the usual routine, and you lived for it. Your last client had brought in a Ford Mustang, asking for an engine swap for “performance”. You’d cringed at the request. Mustangs didn’t need to be touched like that, they were solid on their own. But they were adamant. So, you did what you do best and made it work.

To your surprise, the build turned out solid. Now they were itching to put it to the test tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride. You might not have loved the idea, but you respected the balls it took to fuck with a car like that.

A few racers approached you, asking if they could drop their cars off for new mods. Some girls wanted fresh wraps in pastel pinks or iridescent blues, requests you were more than happy to take on. You had a reputation around here, and it wasn’t just for your skills. You’d been a familiar face since your brother started bringing you around nearly ten years ago. Back then, you were just 15 tagging along. Wide eyed and with urge to participate. Now? You were the one people came to for the real work.

You were damn good at what you did, and you knew it. You had the type of confidence that came with an edge…you had attitude. But you had the talent to back it up, both in the garage and behind the wheel. You had to. There’s nothing more embarrassing than running your mouth and driving like a rookie.

Just as you were starting to enjoy yourself, your peace was shattered by a voice, cutting in from behind you. Loud, obnoxious. Wooyoung.

You turned around, already regretting it.

“Look at this beauty.” he said, practically drooling over your car. “It’s such a shame you’re the owner”

You scoffed. Bold words from someone who’s never beaten you in a race. Not once. Not even close.

“Kindly remove your hands from my car” you said, eyeing his fingers like they were contagious, like he was a toddler with sticky fingers. “I don’t know where you’ve been, and frankly, I don’t want to.”

“Oh, these hands?” he smirked, locking eyes with you as he dramatically placed both palms on the hood like he was blessing it. “They’ve touched greatness.”

“Riiiiiighttt” you muttered. “Go play Hot Wheels with your little friends and leave the grown-up racing to us.” You gestured to yourself and the other racers.

“Huh, so that’s how you really feel?” Wooyoung said, tilting his head. “Then how about we make tonight interesting then, a little bet. A wager of sorts.”

You looked at him in disbelief. “How much are we talking?” you did like the sound of a bet.

“Oh, I’m not talking cash, Y/N. That’d be boring.” He grinned. “If I beat you, I want free mods. Full body work. Top-tier treatment.” You laughed, loud. “Good fucking joke- wait, you’re serious?”

“If you’re scared of a little fun, I’ll just get going. I mean, you might be a bit of a bitch, but I didn’t think you were a boring bitch.”

Ohhh, he was really pushing it.

He turned and started walking away. Taking his time, like he was waiting for you to take the bait, for you to crack.

“What’s in it for me?” you called after him. “That’s a pricey bet, Wooyoung. My rates are high”

He stopped, didn’t even turn around. “My ‘98 Honda Integra.”

You froze.

He said it without hesitation. He knew that was your dream car. Everyone did. And you hated that he owned it. He didn’t deserve it, he treated his cars like toys.

Your jaw clenched. Pout visible while you thought it over for a second.

“Deal” Game on.

He tilted his head, clearly amused. “Oh, look at that pout. Cute, but not exactly flattering. You know, you'd be almost tolerable if you smiled once in a while.”

You blinked slowly, cheeks warming with a mix of rage and embarrassment…and something else you’d never admit “Yeah, well… maybe you should learn how to drive better or something.”...crickets.

The silence that followed made you want to die. Glancing down you start picking the skin on your fingers.

Wooyoung burst out laughing and strutted off toward his car.

“Oh, he’s in your head” Yun-jin said, appearing beside you with perfect timing and zero sympathy.

“Shut up” you mumbled, still staring at Wooyoung’s retreating figure.

Sometimes, he had that effect on you. He knew it. And you hated it. Almost as much as you hated how good he looked walking away. You facepalmed at the thought.

The grid girls started their rounds, signalling the first race of the night is about to start. Your race. The longest track, the biggest bets, and some drifts so sharp they could kill you if you messed up. No pressure.

Your friends did their best to hype you up, calm your nerves. With a grin and a wink, you slipped into your car and rolled toward the start line. A symphony of revving engines echoed across the city, the sound sending vibrations through your body.

Giggling to yourself, you hit play on your playlist and glanced to your left.

Wooyoung.

Of course he was beside you, eyes dark and locked onto yours. Without breaking eye contact, you slammed the gas causing a burnout. He mirrored you instantly, tires screeching, smoke curling into the night air.

For a split second, you both smiled.

Because when you're doing something you both love, there’s no room for bad vibes.

But admitting that would require maturity.

And let’s be honest neither of you are about that.

Two grid girls walk hand in hand, black flags swaying at their sides. Their steps are slow and seductive. They exchange a glance, then in perfect sync, count down: “Three… two… one!”

With a dramatic bow and the screech of tires. It begins.

You launch smoothly off the line, throwing your car into first gear, then second, then third. The engine roars as you build speed, quickly gaining on the two cars ahead. The first drift approaches fast. You lift off the throttle, shift the weight, then tap the accelerator and release. Clean and easy. You clear the corner.

The race unfolds flawlessly. You drift with ease. You’re in third, then second. Wooyoung? Left in the dust long ago.

The final stretch. If you hold this position second place is yours and one last drift stands between you and the finish. It’s a simple one, if done right. You barely give it a second thought. But then your foot slips. You hit the brake too hard, too early, causing your tires to lock. The rear of your car swings wide. You spin out, helpless, watching the back left slam into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

“FUCK! FUCK!” You slam your palms against the steering wheel, the sound echoing through the cabin. You should’ve been able to handle this one. This was a stupid mistake. You got cocky. You wanted to prove you were better than him, but at what cost?

In your side mirror, you watch the person you hate most glide through their drift with effortless precision. He honks as he passes, leaving you in a cloud of dust and humiliation. He knew taunting you would send you reeling.

“Fucking dickhead” you mutter, burying your face in your hands, knuckles still white from gripping the wheel. You sit there for a moment, letting the defeat settle in.

You want nothing more than to drive home and disappear for a week. But you’ve got a reputation to uphold and there’s no way you’re letting a cocky asshole in a 2021 Nissan GT-R purchased with daddy’s money get under your skin.

Everyone saw you spin out. No doubt about it. The only thing left to do was take it on the chin, laugh it off, and pretend it didn’t bother you. You were good at that.

Your car was totalled. No question. It would need to be towed back to the garage, and even then, it might never be the same. You climbed out, feeling a shooting pain you wince as you grab your left side. The adrenaline was fading and replaced with pain. You pulled out your phone and called Yeosang.

“hey, I spun out, bad Yeosang. Car’s totalled. Come get me, please.” You sniffle, letting a few tears fall before shoving all and every emotion back down into a pandoras box.

There was a pause on the other end before his voice came through, laced with concern. “Yeah, I heard. But are you okay? Forget the car, Y/N. Are you hurt?”

Yeosang knew you well enough to stay calm, even when you weren’t.

“I’m good” you lied, half-convincingly. “A little banged up. The spin wasn’t too bad. The car though? Not so lucky.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you still laughed. Because what else could you do?

You hung up the phone and leaned back against your wrecked Nissan, staring up at the night sky. Then the laughter came, manic and uncontrollable.

“oh, this is SO fucked up!” you shouted, letting out a guttural scream that echoed across the city.

This might be your tipping point. Not just because your car was wrecked. Not just because your pride was bruised.

But because now… you owed Wooyoung free body work. And that? That killed you inside.

About 10 minutes later, you heard a car approaching. You didn’t bother to look up, you just waited for it to stop.

“Need a ride?”

You shot up. Wooyoung.

“Oh, this couldn’t get any worse!! Why are you here?” you half shout. Throwing your hands to your sides like a spoilt child, amusement clear in your tone.

“Awwwhhh, bad luck, huh Y/N?” he said, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You turned around slowly. Did he just??? Of course he did. Obviously, he had to come rub the win in your face.

“I’ve come to get your sorry ass. Get in.”

You didn’t move. Stubborn.

Before you could even question him, he added, “Yeosang went to get the truck. I told him I’d pick you up.” That eased your worries…just a bit.

You sighed, defeated. “Fine.”

The drive back was slow and quiet. You stared out the window, arms crossed, trying to ignore the dull ache in your side. You weren’t in the mood to talk especially not to him.

“Hey, are you okay?…Y/N?” Wooyoung’s voice broke through your daze.

Too embarrassed to answer, you just hummed.

“Look, I get it” he said, keeping his tone steady. “But I need to know if I should take you to the emergency room or something.”

“Why do you care?” you snapped, instantly regretting it as pain shot through your ribs. You sucked in a breath, wincing.

“See? That’s why” he replied, eyes flicking toward you. He was clearly concerned, but also not in the mood to deal with your attitude.

“I’m fine” you muttered. “Probably just a small bruise. I’m good.” You wanted him to drop it.

When you arrived at the garage, Yeosang had already dropped off your car and offloaded it around back. Wooyoung had insisted on a detour to the nearest convenience store for water and painkillers, which you begrudgingly accepted.

You walked into your shop, Wooyoung trailing behind you.

“Thanks for the ride, but I don’t need babysitting” you said, not bothering to looking at him as you headed straight for your workstation, rummaging for the first aid kit. You still didn’t understand why he had come to get you. There were plenty of people who could’ve stepped in. So why him?

As Wooyoung approached the final drift of the race, he spotted you ahead. Your car was dropping speed to take the corner but something went wrong, he watched it unfold in real time: the misstep, the spin, the impact.

“Shit, that’s not good” he muttered.

He couldn’t slow down. It was too dangerous to stop mid-race, and there was cash on the line, bets had been made. This wasn’t a good faith race. It was brutal, as always. He had to finish. Still, he quickly assessed the situation. You looked okay, furious for sure, throwing a mini tantrum behind the wheel, but not seriously hurt.

He executed his drift with precision and ease, honking as he passed. A petty move, maybe. But he wouldn’t admit to himself that what he was feeling right now was indeed guilt.

He crossed the finish line in second place, but didn’t stick around to celebrate. Instead, he went straight to your friends.

“Y/N wiped out” he said urgently. “She doesn’t look seriously hurt, but the car’s done. She needs help.”

Panic spread fast. No one had their cars tonight, your girls had come with their boyfriends or friends, Yeosang had hitched a ride with Yun-jin and her boyfriend, but they were currently tied up in a race.

“Fuck it, I’ll go get her” Wooyoung said, already moving.

“The garage isn’t far” Yeosang added. “I’ve got keys for the truck and the shop. I’ll run there and then collect the car.”

Wooyoung didn’t wait. Getting to you was easy.

Convincing you to get in his car?

That was the real challenge.

“Look, I saw what happened” Wooyoung said, voice tight “I didn’t want to leave you there and none of your friends had their cars. I just did what needed to be done.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. Clearly stressed, eyes flicking between you and the floor. He still wasn’t sure if you needed medical attention, and that uncertainty was clearly eating at him.

You leaned against the counter, gripping it for support. The pain in your side was dull now, and your patience was wearing thin.

“I don’t have the energy for your games” you muttered. “So please… just go.”

Your voice cracked slightly, you hated how vulnerable you were. You weren’t even sure why his presence bothered you so much, he hadn’t done anything wrong. But something about him being here, seeing you like this, made your skin crawl.

“What games?” he asked, stepping closer. “I’m not playing games.”

You scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Of course you are. That’s what you do. All this happened because you wanted to play games” you scream at him. That felt like a punch in the gut.

Wooyoung froze, then let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, fuck you, Y/L. You know what? You’re a real piece of work.”

His words hit hard, sharp, unfiltered, spat at you like venom.

“That’s how you treat people who help you? I drop everything, come get you, make sure you’re not bleeding out in some wreck and this is what I get?”

Your eyes are burning now. “I didn’t ask you to come.”

“No,” he said, voice low. “You didn’t. But I did anyway. Clearly that was a fucking mistake” he spat.

The silence that followed was heavy. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

You sniffled, catching a stray tear with the sleeve of your oversized striped t-shirt. You hadn’t even realized you were shivering until your bare legs started to tremble. The last bit of adrenaline fading, cold air and shock creeping in, your body finally registering the crash.

Wooyoung noticed. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face like he was trying to reset the moment.

“Look, let me help, then I’ll leave. Alright?” He started rummaging around the garage, searching for something to keep you warm. You watched him silently. “can I at least drop you home?”

“I live just above the shop” you murmured. “I could use a little help getting up the stairs.”

You moved to stand, and he immediately offered his hand. You hesitated, then took it reluctantly. You just wanted your bed.

As you reached the steps, he gently placed a hand around your waist to steady you. Instinctively, you wanted to push him away, say something like “Don’t touch me” but the warmth, the softness, the careful way he supported you while trying not to hurt you, made you think twice. It was unfamiliar, but oddly comforting. So you let it be.

At your door, you punched in the code and turned to face him.

“Thanks for the help” you said, offering a small smile while pretending to fix the pleats of your mini skirt to avoid his gaze.

“No worries. Rest up. Call Yeosang and the girls. They’re worried.”

He gave your arm a light tap and headed toward the garage exit. You watched him descend the stairs before quietly closing the door.

Inside, you made your way to the bedroom. Stripping off your clothes, you assessed the damage. A bruise bloomed across your side deep purple and red, angry looking and huge. Painful, yes, but not the worst you’d ever done to yourself.

After freshening up, you climbed into bed and sent a quick message to let everyone know you were okay. Just needed rest. You’d call in the morning.

After a trip to the doctor and three days of bed rest, you were finally starting to feel like yourself again. Your Mum had checked in, concerned and curious about how you got hurt. You offered a casual shrug and the vague explanation, “Slipped in the shop. You know me, always clumsy” letting the subject drop before it could dig deeper. Friends came by with takeaway containers and juicy gossip, their presence a welcome distraction from the ache in your side and the heaviness in your thoughts.

Now, with the bruises fading and your strength returning, you decided it was time to get back to work.

Your brother had taken over most of the responsibilities and directing the crew while you were recovering, so all that was left for you now was the admin work. You made your way to your workstation, eyeing the pile of invoices. With a sigh, you dropped into your chair and propped your legs up on the desk.

“Hey” your brother called out from across the garage “some guy kept coming around while you were off. Said his name was... Wooyoung? Left that for you.” He pointed to a paper bag sitting in the far corner of your worktop.

“Wait, Wooyoung?” You blinked. What the hell?

“Yeah” he continued, casually flipping through a clipboard. “He came by the first day asking for you. I told him you were out for a bit. Thought he was here to get some work done.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, probably” couldn’t wait a full day to come gloat and claim his win. Desperate much.

Your brother shrugged. “But he came back yesterday day with that bag. Said it was for you. Asked if you were okay.”

You sat there, stunned for a moment. He came to check on me?

You felt the corner of your lips twitch. No way. You couldn’t possibly be smiling… right?

You shut it down immediately. “What the hell is wrong with me?” you thought to yourself.

Your brother had already gone back to sorting parts, clearly done with the conversation. Curiosity had taken hold, so you stood, grabbed the paper bag and returned to your seat setting it down with a soft thud.

Inside was a chaotic mix of items: electrolyte water, a tube of pain relief cream, a selection of gummies, and an energy drink. You stared at it all, bewildered. It looked like someone had raided a convenience store with zero strategy and too much concern.

Then you spotted it, a crumpled piece of paper tucked between the snacks. A note. You unfolded it slowly, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he’d scribbled down.

“You looked like death the last time I saw you. Figured you’d still look like that. Didn’t know what you needed, so here’s sugar and caffeine. Don’t die. Also, I won. XXX-XXX-XXX”

You blinked. Then, without meaning to, you laughed. A short, sharp burst that echoed through the garage. It was ridiculous. Petty. So him. But the number in the corner, was hastily scribbled, like he hadn’t planned to leave it but changed his mind at the last second.

You stared at it for a moment longer, the laughter fading into something quieter. Something you didn’t quite want to name.

You weren’t friends. Never will be. You barely spoke outside of trading insults. And yet… he came back. Twice. Left snacks. Left a note with his number on it.

You moved to fold the paper but paused halfway. Unfolding the paper again you grabbed your phone and added a new contact.

WOOYOUNG.

You heard a knock at the door. Chu and Yeosang had decided to come over for pre-drinks since none of you were driving to tonight’s race location. You opened the door slowly, leaning against the frame and striking a cringy, over-the-top seductive pose.

“Well, hello” you purred.

Yeosang let out a low whistle while Chu burst into laughter, practically shouting, “HOT!”

You decided tonight was the night to make an impression. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how a certain black and blonde haired boy touched your waist a few weeks ago. Nope. Totally unrelated. You wore a black slouchy asymmetric mini dress that exposed your right shoulder, the flared long sleeves should give you coverage from the cold tonight. Paired with thigh-high boots scattered with buckles and gold jewellery which complimented your skin tone. Your hair, just above shoulder length, was styled in a flicked-out Agent Scully style. Retro, sharp, chic.

Since you weren’t racing tonight, your car still battered and bruised in the back of the garage, you had the rare luxury of dressing up and just having fun. No grease, no adrenaline. Just vibes.

“What’s got you so dressed up tonight?” Yeosang asked, raising a brow as he stepped inside.

You shrugged, pouring drinks with practiced ease. “What do you mean dressed up? I always look good.” You said it nonchalantly, hoping they wouldn’t press. If they caught on to why you were making an effort, for someone, something, you’d never hear the end of it.

Chu narrowed her eyes, already onto you. “Yeah, but this is different. You look so hot tonight. Like, this outfit is insane. I’m jealous.”

“I could never compete with your outfits though. Ever!” you say to Chuu. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Not because you weren’t used to compliments from your friends, but because your brain had already started wandering.

Wooyoung. What would he think? Would he like it?

And just like that, your mind played a loud, obnoxious record scratch. Hold up. Don’t do that. You can’t. You won’t. STOP! You sick bitch!

If this were a sitcom, you’d be staring straight into the camera right now. Deadpan and unamused by your own lies.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake it off “Anyway,” you said, forcing a laugh, “who’s ready to get drunk and gossip?!”

Chu grinned “Only if we get to point and laugh at the guys who still think neon underglow is cool.”

Yeosang raised his cup with a smirk. “To chaos and questionable mod choices!”

You clinked glasses and backed your shots grateful for the distraction. Whatever was going on in your head, especially the part that kept circling back to him, needed to stop. Tonight was about friends, drinks, and talking trash about bad spoilers.

Yun-jin showed up with her boyfriend soon after, and the three of you crammed into the backseats, giggling and squishing into each other on purpose.

“So, what kind of races are happening tonight? Who’s racing?” you asked, curious if anyone was worth betting on. It was a habit, you never bet big, just enough to feel involved. The real money only came when you were behind the wheel.

“We’re headed to Itaewon,” Yun-jin’s boyfriend replied. “The industrial site just on the outskirts. Not sure about the full lineup, but I’m pretty sure Seonghwa and Jongho are racing. They hardly ever miss a race.”

He turned to Yun-jin with wide, excited eyes. “Plus, I’ll be racing too!”

“You’re gonna do so good, baby!” she cooed, practically glowing. Gross.

He looked back at the rest of you. “wanna come with?”

The three of you exchanged a glance.

“Yeeeaah, no thanks.” Yeosang said flatly. “Tagged along with you two once. Never want to see that again.” the couple shared a laugh.

Remembering vividly how Yeosang had described the experience. How the race felt less like a competition and more like foreplay between the two. You’d never seen him look so emotionally scarred.

You arrived at the location in just under an hour, and the moment the car stopped, you all piled out, laughing as you all stretch out, trying to get blood flow back into your legs.

Almost immediately, you were approached by Seonghwa, Wooyoung’s friend, though far more tolerable, this one decided to grow up a little. He looked like trouble and had one of the prettiest smiles you’d ever seen.

“Y/N! I’m so happy to see you here,” he beamed, flashing his grillz.

“Hey, Hwa. Long time no see,” you replied, smiling as he pulled you in for a hug by the waist. He smelled like sandalwood, musk, and spices. Warm and expensive.

As you pulled away, you suddenly felt like you were being watched. You glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention. You shrugged it off and turned your focus back to Seonghwa.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone shifting to concern. “After the spin out? Glad to see you’re still standing.”

“Yeah, the car took the hit for me” you said with a pout. “She needs major work so I’m not racing tonight.” The disappointment in your voice was hard to hide.

“Well, if you need help fixing her up, you know where to find me.”

You gave him a grateful smile and a nod. “Thanks, Hwa.”

“See you around, Y/N” he said, glancing back at you once before heading off toward his friends.

“oh that was new!” exclaimed Chuu. “He was sizing you up, he was totally checking you out just then!” she pointed between you and him in dramatic fashion. Eyes widening as if to ask you if that’s why you made an effort!

“He was NOT!”……….“wait was he??” you smirk at her. “anyway it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me like that and I don’t want him” you scoff.

“if I was going to have a crush on anyone, it would be Jongho. WHICH I DON’T. to clarify. Just saying. He’s so handsome” while that was true, you hated the fact that Wooyoung was slowly consuming all thoughts you had. God if violence was legal you would’ve jumped him by now. “Oh I’m sure!” Chuu shouted sarcastically, as she started to also make a move to socialise.

Everyone had gone their separate ways for now, and you found yourself wandering through the lot, nursing a pretty strong drink and checking out the cars. One caught your eye. A 2013 Chevrolet Corvette Z06. At this point, it was practically a classic. Sleek, understated, and refreshingly unmodified. Someone clearly loved this car, and it showed. You spent a few minutes admiring it, running your fingers along the curves, snapping a couple of pictures.

You heard footsteps behind you. Assuming it was the owner, you turned around, ready to strike up a conversation.

But it wasn’t the owner.

It was Wooyoung.

You blinked, surprised. Was this his car? You knew he had a few, unlike you, who had your Nissan Silvia and a beat-up runaround for errands and work.

“Pretty car, right?” he said, breaking the silence.

“Is it yours?” you asked, turning your attention back to the Corvette.

“No.” His answer was short, no pleasantries, no explanation.

You frowned slightly. “Oh. Okay… so, can I ask why you’re here then?” You didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but maybe it did.

He exhaled sharply. “I wanted to see how you were.”

There was something in his voice. Hurt, maybe. Frustration too.

“Did you get the bag I left?” he asked.

You finally turned to face him fully. “Yeah. I was meaning to thank you for that.”

Truthfully, you’d been scared to message him. Confused by everything, your thoughts, your feelings. And maybe, just maybe, you’d hit your head so hard it knocked the hatred right out of you.

“I mean, a message would’ve been nice,” he said, huffing. “Why didn’t you call or something?”

“I mean… we’re not exactly friends,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. He’d helped you, sure but that didn’t make you close.

“I at least wanted to know if you were okay,” he muttered.

“Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve called. Or messaged. I really did appreciate the stuff. Especially the gummies.”

Did I just apologize? To him? Yeah, you definitely hit your head.

He looked at you for a moment, maybe two, like he was trying to figure out what to do with that apology. Then he let out an awkward laugh, rubbed the back of his neck, and adjusted his cap.

You decided to change the subject.

“Did you see the rims?” you asked, nodding toward the Corvette. “They’re unreal. Whoever owns this knows what they’re doing.”

Wooyoung followed your gaze, hands tucked into his pockets. “Yeah, they’re nice. Not overdone. Rare to see that around here.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the car and not the awkward energy hanging between you. You fidgeted with your rings, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was standing.

Then, out of nowhere, he laughed soft, almost under his breath.

“What?” you asked, glancing at him.

He shrugged, still smirking. “Nothing. Just… you get all serious when you talk about cars. It’s kinda cute.”

You froze.

He hadn’t meant to say that. It just slipped out.

And now you were beet red beside him. Thank god for blush, if you weren’t wearing any, he’d see exactly how much that comment got to you.

You turned back to the Corvette, kneeling down to pretend to study the rims again. Anything to avoid eye contact.

Cute? Since when did he say things like that?

He took a step closer, leaning down to get a better look at the car, placing a hand on your exposed shoulder for balance. His touch was light, his thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles against your tattooed skin.

You didn’t react at first, too focused on pretending to care about the rims. But then you felt it. The warmth. The pressure. The way his thumb moved like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

His gaze. Low, dark, lingering. He wasn’t looking at the car anymore. He was looking at you, like he was seeing something he hadn’t let himself see before.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos like that” he said quietly, unable to keep the thought to himself. You blinked, caught off guard. “Huh? Oh… yeah. I’ve got a few.”

He nodded, still staring. “Guess I never noticed. Spider lilies right?” you hum in agreement.

The air between you shifted. You felt it in the way he stayed close, in the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch. A faint tickle ran across your shoulder as the fine hairs stood on end. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how loud your heartbeat felt. You should say something. Step back. Break the moment.

But you didn’t.

And neither did he.

You finally turned to face him, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “I don’t get you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. You raised a brow. “That’s mutual.”

He let out a breathy laugh, but it wasn’t mocking. It was tired. Honest. “I used to think you were just… loud. Annoying. Always trying to prove something.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “And now?”

He hesitated. “Now I’m not so sure.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. The Wooyoung you knew didn’t do vulnerability. He did sarcasm, competition, and petty one-liners. But this? This was something else. Before you could say anything, someone called his name from across the lot. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at you.

“I should go” he said, voice low. “But… I’m glad you’re okay.”

You nodded, heart thudding in your chest. “Thanks. For checking in and for the gummies.”

He smirked, the tension breaking just slightly. “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.”

Before he got up to leave, he reached up and gently brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His thumb accidentally brushing your face. You just stared at him, eyes wide. you didn’t dare move, startled by his actions.

And with that, he left. Leaving you there confused. Well and truly gagged.

After reconvening with your friends and settling in to watch the final race of the evening, you were approached by Seonghwa again. He wore an amused expression, clearly enjoying whatever theory he’d cooked up in his head.

“Saw you getting all cozy with Wooyoung” he teased. “Since when was that a thing?”

You looked him dead in the eyes, unimpressed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Turning away, you focused on the lineup of cars forming at the start. From the looks of it, Wooyoung was in the mix. Great.

But Seonghwa wasn’t done.

He stepped behind you, placing a hand on your waist and leaning in close, voice low and smug. “I didn’t know you were into the whole enemies-to-lovers vibe. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking.

You scoffed, spinning around to face him, eyes locked. “And I didn’t peg you as the type to fake a personality just to get into a girl’s pants. But clearly, that’s exactly who you are.”

You stepped in closer, just shy of his face, voice sharp and sweet. “Not like you had a chance anyway”

Then you turned on your heel, walking away with every ounce of untouchable hot-girl energy you could summon. Because even if he didn’t stand a chance, you weren’t above leaving him wanting more.

As you walked away with your head held high, heels clicking against the concrete like punctuation marks. You didn’t look back, not even once. But you knew he was watching. That was the point.

You settled in near the edge of the crowd as the final race of the night was about to begin. Engines revved, headlights cut through the dark, and the air buzzed with anticipation. You scanned the lineup for him again, and there he was.

Leaning against his car, arms crossed, jaw set and taking one last drag of his cigarette before stomping it out. His usual cocky energy was there, but something about him looked different. Focused. Tense. Pissed off??? And when his eyes flicked across the crowd and landed on you. He didn’t look away. He’d seen the whole interaction with Seonghwa. He didn’t like the way you didn’t push him away immediately. He was jealous and he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t react because let’s face it, he had no right to.

Your stomach flipped.

Chuu nudged you with her elbow. “Okay, what is going on between you two?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Yeosang snorted. “Yeah, sure. Then why is he looking at you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like he wants you.”

You ignored them, eyes locked with Wooyoung’s for a beat too long. Then he turned, climbed into his car, and the moment broke.

Moments later, the flag girl dropped the flag and the race began with a roar, tires screeching, engines howling, and the crowd erupting. But you barely registered it. Your mind was still stuck on the way his thumb had brushed your skin and how he looked at you like you were the only person standing in the crowd. He looked at you like he was trying to figure you out and you hated that you wanted him to.

It had been about a while since the last race night, and work had finally slowed down. Just a few wrap jobs and tire changes here and there. With winter creeping in, the racing scene had started to quiet, mostly warehouse meets and the occasional drag race.

You’d finally had time to focus on your car. After waiting nearly a month for new parts to arrive, you could finally start restoring her to her former glory.

It was Sunday, the one day the shop was closed for admin and catch-up. So, you decided to use this time to your advantage. You were under your car, checking the exhaust repairs, when a sudden series of heavy taps to the left side of the car made you scream. Your legs even shook a little.

Sliding out quickly, expecting to see your brother, you were instead greeted by Wooyoung who was bent over in fits of laughter, barely able to breathe.

“Oh my god” you said, staring at him with a blank expression.

“You-you should’ve seen…your legs-your legs!” he wheezed between laughs, mimicking your startled reaction.

Mocking his laugh, you try to keep your face straight after. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk bets. Business” he said after calming down and raising an eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t forget our little arrangement?”

“No, I didn’t actually. But I was kind of hoping you did.” you scoffed, sliding yourself back under the car.

“Now why would I forget such a momentous triumph?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d feel guilty?” you called out from beneath the car.

“Nope. No guilt on my end. I helped you out, so my conscience is clear.”

“Well, the shop’s closed on Sundays. So come back during business hours.”

You heard him objecting, but you ignored him, focusing back on your work. If he wanted to talk today, he could wait. You weren’t about to drop everything, especially not for him.

You stayed under the car, pretending to ignore him in the hopes he would leave, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he wandered over to your workbench, picked up a rag and some tools and started poking around the engine bay like he belonged there.

You slid out from under the car again, brows raised. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up. “Helping. You clearly need it.”

You scoffed. “I don’t need help.”

“Sure” he said, wiping down a part with deliberate care. “also I’m bored. And you’re tolerating me, which is rare. So I’m taking the win.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him. The two of you worked in near silence, the occasional clink of tools and low hum of the radio filling the space.

Both of you were hunched over the engine now. He pointed out broken wires, loose bolts, anything that looked off. And you? You kept pretending he was wrong, brushing off his suggestions while quietly fixing each issue he mentioned. You were unaware to the fact that he’d caught on, and was now watching you with a smirk, arms crossed, thoroughly entertained.

“Pass me the socket wrench” you said.

His hand reached over yours, fingers grazing your knuckles as he handed it to you. You froze for a moment, slowly turning to look him through your lashes. You cleared your throat. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” he said, voice low.

By the time the sun had dipped low and the garage was bathed in amber light, you were leaning against the open shop door drinking a cup of tea, watching him finish up. He wiped his hands on a rag, then turned to make his way towards you.

“You’re getting there” he said, nodding toward the car. “She’ll be back on the road soon.”

You nodded, lips pressed together.

He stepped closer. “Sooo” you purposefully dragged it out to fill the awkward silence, your voice now soft and less guarded.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes darker than usual, unreadable.

Then he stepped even closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You didn’t move.

He reached out, slowly, like he was giving you time to pull away. His hand brushed your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek.

And then he kissed you.

It was gentle at first, like he was testing the waters, unsure of how you’d react. To his surprise, you didn’t pull away. You hummed softly, adding a touch of pressure in return. The kiss wasn’t long, barely a few seconds, but it was long enough to leave your knees feeling unsteady.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, waiting for something. But you didn’t say anything.

You just smirked, turned, and walked back into the garage, leaving him standing there stunned.

What you really wanted to do right now was slide down the wall in full dramatic fashion, bury your head between your knees, and scream into the void. But the garage doors were wide open, and if he hadn’t walked away yet, he’d witness the entire performance front row.

So instead, you stood there like nothing happened. Pretending to sort through papers like your heart wasn’t racing. All you could think about was how good he was with his hands and how his kiss just rewired something in your brain.

You were cool. calm. collected. And that was a total lie.

Spring had settled in like a sigh of relief. The chill was gone, the streets were alive again, and the shop was buzzing with new projects. You’d thrown yourself into work, modding, tuning, restoring. Fixing your own car had become an obsession, something grounding while everything else felt like it was shifting.

Wooyoung had dropped off a Supra MK-4 after you had agreed finally work on his car after he returned a few days after the kiss. It was a stunning car. Visually, at least. He’d modded it himself, but you could tell his heart hadn’t been in it. Chrome finish, flashy but hollow. Just an engine swap and a few superficial tweaks. Nothing that screamed personality. Nothing that felt earned.

He’d tossed you the keys with that usual smirk, followed by a vague “do your thing”.

Then he vanished off to Japan, like he always did during the winter. No explanation. No timeline. Just gone. This was routine for him but this time, something felt different. You didn’t feel the usual relief when he left. No breath of space. No quiet. Just a lingering weight in your chest, like something had been left unsaid. Unfinished.

You sent the first message. You’d sat there for way too long, staring at the screen, feeling ridiculous. “I need guidance and instructions for the car, and he doesn’t have my number.” You told yourself as you hover over the send button. After an hour of contemplation, you hit send.

Keeping it light you sent him an update on your car, you sent him a selfie style picture. You were in the corner holding up a cute peace sign with the unfinished car behind you.

Y/N: [Picture] she’s almost there! lacking a paint job but almost finished!

Wooyoung: wow didn’t think you’d ever message me ;) you look cute, and the cars not looking bad either.

You immediately wanted to scream. Your cheeks are flushed. You know it.

Y/N: you’re unbearable!!!!!!!

Wooyoung: and you love it.

Phone locked. Thrown across the room. Straight onto your bed.

Nope. Not today.

You felt a surge of excitement. After being sidelined from the wipeout and everyone doing their own thing while the season cooled off, the energy now was electric.

Your Nissan was looking better than ever. You’d installed a new track suspension and a 7-speed transmission, because she needed muscle. And to top it all off, you gave her the makeover she deserved. After seeing her stripped down to bare metal and carbon, you committed to the paint job of your dreams: Raspberry Chrome.

It came out flawless. Dreamy. People kept coming over just to compliment her. She’d made a full recovery and now, she was ready to burn out.

Now, the sun was dipping low, casting golden light across the lot. It was now spring and the scene was just picking up again. You were leaning against the hood of your car, cigarette in hand, passing it back and forth with Chuu. The two of you were dressed like you owned the place, well that’s at least what you told yourselves. Your outfit was hot. Layered mini skirts, a white skort and grey wrap around mini, baby blue tights, a sheer creamy white top that barely hid the baby blue bikini top underneath. Your bob flicked out perfectly, baby bangs that you had cut during the usual winter identity crisis were sharp. You’d committed to the bit, and you looked good.

“and so I told him, you need to fu-” Chuu was mid-sentence when you saw him. you’ll get the rest of the deets later.

Wooyoung. Not in his Nissan. In his '98 Honda Integra, low and loud, sleek and pearlescent white, pulling into the lot like he hadn’t been gone for months. You didn’t know he was back. He didn’t announce it. Just showed up, casual as ever, slipping into conversation with a few guys.

You froze for a second, cigarette paused between your fingers.

He looked different. Skin golden and tanned. Relaxed. But his eyes were scanning the lot, and when they landed on you, he stopped.

You didn’t smile. Didn’t wave. Just held his gaze, one brow raised, lips parted slightly like you were about to say something but didn’t.

Chuu leaned in, whispering, “Well, look who’s back.”

After that drunken girls’ night back in December, you spilled everything about what happened in the shop. Chuu, Yeosang, and Yun-jin had been dying to see what would happen next. And they hadn’t been subtle about it either the teasing was getting relentless.

You were too busy watching the way his eyes lingered. Not just on your face, but on the outfit, the stance, the cigarette between your fingers. Like he was trying to piece together everything he’d missed while he was gone.

Regret flickered across his expression. Leaving for Japan suddenly felt like a mistake. Because now, he was wondering what might’ve happened if he hadn’t. Would you even let him kiss you again? Had you decided to forget everything that happened between you?

After exchanging the usual greetings with his friends, he said something, nodded once, and started walking toward you.

And just like that, all the air in your lungs vanished. You suddenly felt nervous “What if I forget how to talk? Oh no, I have cigarette breath. Do I smell?” were the only things running through your head.

You didn’t even notice Chuu slip away until you heard her laughing like a giddy child. Snapping your head in her direction, you saw a small crowd of your friends had formed, clearly ready to witness the latest episode of The Y/N Show unfold. All of them were pretending not to look at you, suddenly fascinated by their surroundings when they caught your death stares. Yeosang was pointing at the sky like the sunset was the most riveting thing he’d ever seen, while Yun-jin held her chin thoughtfully, nodding along to whatever nonsense he was spewing.

Flipping them off, you turned your attention back to the now black-and-blue-haired boy approaching. You felt a tug in your lower abdomen.

He took up the space next to you, close but not close enough. Like he wasn’t sure where he stood… again.

“Sup, stranger” you said, trying to mask any emotion.

“Miss me? I know you did.” he replied, cocky as ever. He shifted his weight slightly, his right hand now close enough to reach you. In a pathetic attempt to test the waters, he used his pinky to lightly brush your squished thigh over your tights.

Your chest tightened, but you weren’t about to hand yourself over that easily.

“Hmm, now why would I miss someone who’s making me pay out of pocket to mod his car?” you said lazily, glancing at him with feigned disinterest. But a smile slipped through and he noticed.

Grinning wider than you’d ever seen, he jabbed you in the side with his elbow. “Ahhh, see? I knew my favourite girl would miss me.”

You choked mid-drag on the nearly burnt out cigarette, tears springing to your eyes. You tried to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat.

With the smuggest grin, he leaned in closer. “You look so fucking pretty when you cry” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your cheek to smudge the stray tears, then dragging it across your bottom lip, lip gloss now smeared across your skin and tainted with the taste of salt.

“I’ll be around tomorrow to check out the car” he said, then paused, eyes dragging over you slowly and deliberately.

“Oh, and your car’s looking pretty hot too” he added, voice dipping just slightly. “You should take me for a ride sometime… I want to hear what kind of sounds she makes.”

Your brain short-circuited. Every last brain cell clocked out for the day. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

And with that, he was gone.

Suddenly, you were hyper-aware of the prying eyes that had just witnessed your dignity unravel in real time. You could feel their stares, hear the barely contained laughter, and see the smug little smirks plastered across their faces. You were never going to live this down.

Chuu was already halfway to you. “You nodded?” she gasped. “That’s it? That’s all you gave him?”

Yeosang, ever the menace, chimed in from behind her. “Honestly, I’m disappointed.”

You groaned, flipping them off with both hands. “Can we not make this a group activity?”

Yun-jin didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “Too late. We’ve already started drafting the group chat recap.”

“I swear, two weeks ago you were screaming about how he ghosted you” Yeosang snorted. Wooyoung had failed to answer a series of questions and you took it personally. “And now? One look from those damn puppy eyes and you fold”

The teasing would live on for weeks.

There were a few races happening tonight, big hitters, big money, and even bigger heat as the police were out in full force tonight. There were also whispers of new racers and the word had spread fast: a couple of chaebols had rolled in, throwing cash around like they owned the place. Betting heavy, talking louder than their engines, and losing just as fast. They never learned and tonight was no different.

His eyes locked onto Hongjoong, friend since school and one of the sharpest racers on the scene. The kind of guy who could drift through a corner and still have time to check his hair in the rearview.

“Yo! What’s good?” Hongjoong grinned as they dapped each other up.

“I’ve been itching for this all week. Need to blow off some steam”

Hongjoong nodded, eyes scanning the lineup. “Track’s slick tonight. Cold air, tight corners. You ready?”

“Always.” Wooyoung smirked. “She’s tuned to kill. I’m not here to play.”

“Good” Hongjoong said, cracking his neck. “No mercy tonight. I want clean lines and dirty wins.”

They both turned toward the crowd gathering near the start line.

“Couple new faces” Hongjoong muttered. “Some rich kids with more money than skill. Should be easy.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Perfect. I’m in the mood to humiliate someone.”

Just then, a voice cut through the noise.

“You two talk a lot for guys who haven’t placed first in weeks.”

They turned. A racer leaned against his car, arms crossed, smirk sharp. His ride was loud, with an oversized spoiler, and a blue wrap that screamed ego.

Hongjoong raised a brow. “You lost? or just desperate for attention?”

The racer stepped forward. “Just making sure you know who’s taking the win tonight.”

Wooyoung chuckled, stepping closer. “Really now? If you’re lucky, I’ll let you see my taillights before you spin out.”

The tension snapped like a live wire.

The rich kid stepped forward, chest puffed, jaw tight clearly not used to being laughed at. Wooyoung had clearly touched a nerve. His crew flanked him, all designer jackets and borrowed bravado. One of them muttered something under his breath, just loud enough to be heard.

Wooyoung tilted his head, amused. “Huh you say something? Who the fuck are you anyway?”

Hongjoong didn’t even blink. He just leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.

The rich kid squared up, fists clenched, eyes burning. “You think this is funny?”

Wooyoung let out a low laugh. “Oh, I know it is.”

Hongjoong joined in, his laugh sharp and slow. “You bring a tantrum to a street race and expect respect? That’s cute.”

The kid took another step, but Wooyoung didn’t flinch. Didn’t even move. Just stood there, grinning like the devil in a leather jacket.

“You really wanna do this?” Wooyoung asked, voice calm, almost bored. “Because I promise, you’ll lose twice tonight.”

Seonghwa, Jongho and the rest of their boys noticed the commotion, and closed in.

The rich kid hesitated. His crew didn’t move. He didn’t want to be the one first to swing, not against two guys who looked like they’d enjoy it.

Eventually, the kid scoffed and backed off, muttering something about “not worth it.”

Wooyoung turned to Hongjoong, still smirking. “You think he’s gonna cry in his McLaren later?”

“Only if he doesn’t stall it first,” Hongjoong laughed, pushing off the hood.

Hongjoong veered toward the bookie’s table, where a crowd was already gathering, cash in hand. “Put me down for ten grand,” he said coolly, tossing a folded stack onto the table.

Wooyoung followed, pulling out a wad of bills from his jacket. “Make mine fifteen. I’m feeling generous tonight.”

DK scribbled down the numbers, eyes darting between the two. “You boys sure?”

Wooyoung smirked. “We don’t bet to win. We bet to humiliate.”

The rich kid stepped up, scoffing. “Twenty grand. On me.”

Hongjoong raised a brow. “Oh look at that he’s got daddy’s wallet.”

Wooyoung leaned in, voice low and mocking. “Hope you kept the receipt for that McLaren. You might have to return it mate.”

DK locked in the bets. Standing up he shouts “Remember. Winner takes ALL. ALWAYS.”

Race night had officially begun. And now? It was personal.

The lineup was stacked. Tuned monsters, imports and drivers with nothing to lose. Wooyoung stood among them, calm and unreadable, leaning against his '98 Integra like he had all the time in the world.

The chaebols McLaren had more horsepower than sense, it would be unbeatable if they knew how to use it. Wooyoung didn’t say much, just climbed into his car, adjusted his gloves, and waited.

When the flag dropped, he launched like a bullet.

The crowd erupted as the cars tore down the strip, headlights slicing through the dark. Wooyoung’s Integra surged forward tight, fast, precise. The McLaren tried to keep pace, its roar echoing through the night, but Wooyoung was already pulling ahead, and Hongjoong wasn’t far behind.

Wooyoung shifted into third gear, the engine roaring louder as the RPMs climbed. He needed the speed. The course twisted ahead, leading toward the old abandoned parking garage, a relic of concrete and shadows, barely lit and half-collapsing in places. Most racers avoided it. Too risky. Too unpredictable.

But Wooyoung didn’t flinch.

With a sharp weight shift, he threw the car sideways, tires screeching as he drifted into the building. It was reckless and unnecessary, but he wanted to show off. He wanted them to watch.

The crowd gasped as the Integra disappeared into the dark structure, all that could be heard was sound of rubber on concrete and popping exhausts echoing like gunfire. For a split second, there was silence just the distant hum of engines and the collective breath held by everyone watching.

Then he burst out the other side, clean, fast, untouched.

Hongjoong followed seconds later, grinning like a madman, clearly enjoying watching his friend have his moment, Wooyoung had just stolen the show.

Picking up speed as the finish line came into view, Wooyoung felt the buzz surge through his veins. The adrenaline, the roar of the crowd.

He crossed the line with ease, then immediately threw the car into a tight donut, tires screaming against the concrete, burning rubber and leaving thick black marks in his wake. The crowd went wild with cheers, screams, laughter. Some were filming, others just losing their minds.

Coming down from the high, he brought the car to a stop, threw open the door, and stepped out like he owned the night. People rushed over, arms wide, dapping him up, hugging him, shouting congratulations.

Seonghwa and Jongho approached with matching shit eating grins. Hongjoong following shortly after.

“Fuck, bro” Hongjoong said, laughing while raising a brow. “You weren’t kidding, huh? I’ve never seen you drive like that.”

He wanted to ask questions. He HAD questions but he knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anyway. The truth would slip out eventually.

Jongho held up a duffel bag, practically bursting at the seams. “You made a stupid amount tonight. It’s fucked up how much money these guys throw around.”

Wooyoung laughed, breath still heavy. “They’ve got more money than sense.”

Chiming in from the side, smirking. “That’s rich coming from you.” Hongjoong scoffed, slapping him on the back. “Congrats, bro. Although I let you win.” He winked, clearly not serious.

They settled into easy conversation, the kind that only comes after a win. But just as the tension began to fade, the distant wail of sirens cut through the night.

“Shit! Let’s move out!” someone shouted.

And just like that, the crowd scattered, engines roaring to life, tires screeching, laughter turning into urgency. The night wasn’t over. It was just shifting gears.

You climbed into the driver’s seat, fingers gripping the wheel like a lifeline. The world narrowed to the track ahead. The flag dropped and you slammed your foot down.

The Nissan roared in response, tires shrieking against the pavement, engine purring with pleasure as you pushed it to its limit. Every gear shift rattled through your bones and every turn sent a shiver down your spine. The crowd blurred and the noise faded, it was just you and the road now.

You calculated your next move. The route was familiar: through the city, under the overpass, and out toward the countryside. You laughed, no way you were losing this.

Cruising at high speed, you approached town. You needed to remain focus, senses sharpened. One wrong move and you’d cause a scene and that kind of heat? Not what you needed. You tore past bystanders, some cheering, others disgruntled at the fact their streets were being used as a thrill-seeker’s playground.

Then you heard it.

Sirens.

“Well, this just got interesting.” you muttered, clutching the gearstick and shifting into third. “I NEED to get out of here.”

But you weren’t backing down. Not now.

The cops weren’t on you, probably chasing someone who got unlucky and flew past a patrol car. So screw it. You kept going.

Other racers surged around you, some were bailing and others like you, were hell-bent on finishing. Adrenaline surged. You pushed harder, the new suspension holding you tight as you screamed, “COME ON, GIRL, YOU GOT THIS!” and slammed the dash.

The finish line loomed. You poured everything into staying ahead.

120mph. You blasted past the crowd, crossing first.

You slammed the brakes, skidding to a stop, ready to pull into the crowd but the sirens caught up.

“EVERYONE MOVE OUT!” someone shouted over the music and pure chaos ensued.

With no hesitation, you were gone. Leaving your first-place winnings behind, it could wait.

You laid low in the shadows waiting for everything to die down, heart still racing and engine cooling. When the coast was clear, you slipped away and made your way home. You kept the lights off as you rolled through backstreets. The city was still buzzing behind you, sirens echoing. But out here, in the quiet veins of the suburbs, it was just you and the hum of victory.

You pulled into the dim alleyway by the shop and killed the engine. Silence. Your ears were ringing, you leaned back listening to your still playing radio and the rhythm of heart that still hammering, sweat cooling on your brow. You’d done it.

Then your phone buzzed. A message from DK:

“Cops swarming the strip. Lay low. Meet me at my safe-house whenever you’re ready to collect your winnings. You earned it.”

You smirked. Damn right you did.

Inside your apartment, the adrenaline hadn’t worn off. You paced around, slowly peeling off your layers until you were left in just your underwear. You put on a black cotton short and a vest set, comfortable, free. The rush still buzzed under your skin.

You made your way down to the garage, to cool off in your safe space. It was dim, lit only by the amber glow spilling through the windows from the streetlights outside. You didn’t bother putting on any lights, you liked existing in the dark.

“Winning looks good on you.”

You let out a high-pitched scream, spinning around to locate the voice. That’s when you saw him lounging on the sofa like he owned the place. Way too comfortable.

“You scared the shit out of me” you said, walking toward him with a slow sway in your hips. Hey, it wasn’t a crime. You playfully shoved him before settling into the sofa beside him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, confused. He’d said he was coming by tomorrow to see the car. "HOW did you get in?"

“I came to see you” he said, voice low. “And... the cops swarmed after my race. Thought this would be a good place to lay low.” ok so we're just completely ignoring my other question...cool.

“Ah, yeah. Same. They crashed us mid-race. Total chaos. But you know…” You tried to play it cool, though you wanted to gloat. “Wait? you raced tonight?”

“Uhhuh. Needed to blow off some steam” he said, trying to sound casual.

“I also came to drop this” he added, leaning to reach behind the sofa to grab a duffle bag. He placed it in your lap.

“Open it.”

You looked up at him, confused. “Woo if this is more gummies and energy drinks…” you laughed.

He caught the nickname. Something flickered in his chest, but he didn’t show it. He was serious.

You slowly unzipped the bag. You didn’t even get it halfway open before bills started spilling out, some crumpled, others neatly stacked and clipped.

“What the fuck is this?” you asked, eyes wide, heart thudding. You stared at him, unsure where this money had come from.

“My winnings. well, I kept some. but this is yours.”

“Wooyoung… that’s a lot of money for race winnings.” You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he’d gotten upto tonight.

“High-stakes race. A bunch of cocky rich kids.” He shrugged.

You blinked, then laughed, half in disbelief. “What am I supposed to do with this? You’re joking right?”

“No. It should cover the cost of my car, yours, and give you some money to play with. Call it even. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have crashed that night.” His voice was low, but the guilt was clear. “Besides, it’s petty cash for me. This whole agreement? Just fun and games now.”

You looked at him. Then down at the cash scattered across your lap, the sofa, the floor. Then back at him.

Your pupils dilated. You couldn’t help but glance at his lips, the memory of his tear-soaked thumb brushing over yours now replaying in your mind. A tightness spread across your stomach.

He noticed. A cocky smirk tugged at his mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance, teasing.

“What are you thinking about, huh?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Nothing” you said, turning away but he gently grabbed your chin, guiding you back to face him.

You swallowed hard. Your heart was racing.

He was closer now, leaning into you. You let yourself sink slowly into the corner of the sofa.

“Are you thinking about me?” he whispered.

You shook your head, voice barely audible. “No.” LIES.

“Do you ever think about me?” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. You could hear the amusement in his voice.

You nodded. Yes.

Your head was spinning. The moment felt surreal like maybe you were lucid dreaming.

You shifted slightly, trying to create space between the two of you but he took it as an invitation. Without hesitation, he moved in, using his knees to spread your thighs wider and settled between them. You were now pressed into the corner of the sofa, Wooyoung sitting upright, hands gripping your thighs.

Silence hung heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the city outside. Your breathing was uneven. He looked down at you, eyes dark, studying the vulnerable expression you wore. The visual of you laying on top of cash he’d won drove him wild. You held his gaze, and he swore you were doing it on purpose.

“You don’t understand how bad I want you right now” he said, voice low and honeyed.

Your pulse quickened but this time, you were feeling it between your legs.

The chill you'd felt moments ago was gone, replaced by a slow burning heat that spread through your body. You didn’t hesitate.

“Please” was all that came out, desperate and whiney.

“Fuck… okay.” he breathed, before closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours.

This kiss wasn’t like the first one you’d shared months ago. It was raw, full of need. You hummed against his mouth, and he paused just for a second.

He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Then his hand came up, thumb brushing the corner of your lips with deliberate pressure. He dragged it across, pressing into your bottom lip and pressing down gently, making you part your mouth. He pushed his thumb past your lips and pressed it flat against your tongue.

He inhaled sharply. “Shit.”

Then he was back, kissing you harder. You whimpered, letting yourself fall completely into the cushions, forgetting the cash scattered beneath you. Wooyoung had claimed the space between your legs, hips pressing into your thighs as he shifted higher, giving you room to move.

The kiss turned frantic, teeth grazing, breath mingling, hands roaming and groping. You were a mess of soft sounds and aching need. You pushed up, desperate for friction.

“Ah, ah, ah…” he tutted, placing a firm hand on your hip and pressing you back into the sofa. “Not so fast, pretty. We don’t need to rush.”

His grip tightened, and with one slow, deliberate movement, he rolled his hips into yours. You gasped, and he caught the sound with his mouth, kissing you through it.

You started to move with him, meeting his rhythm in a quiet plea for more.

“Aww, baby… you’re so needy,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. His teasing tone had you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head you let out an involuntary “hyyuughhh” type of sound. Which only egged him on more.

“please- please stop teasing” you moan breathlessly. Unable to handle the feeling anymore. You loved dry humping as much as the next person, but you wanted him so bad. You wanted to feel his hands against your skin. You were completely helpless, your body was making decisions for you.

“awwhh look at you, what is it?” he teases, using one of his hands to gently caress one of your thighs “what do you need”

“you, I need you” you whine, desperation clear in your voice.

Wooyoung felt a twitch in his trousers “fuck baby, say it again.”

“Woo please I need you, I need you so bad” your voice breathless and punctuating. You couldn’t handle much more teasing.

“yeah?” he smirked almost in disbelief.

He moved slowly, hands roaming with quiet intent. His touch traced the curve of your body, lingering at the waistband of your shorts. You felt the gentle tug of his fingers, the pause as he looked up at you, silent, asking for permission.

You lifted your hips in response.

He peeled the layers away with care, then leaned back slightly, eyes looking you over. You’re laying across the sofa, surrounded by the cash, which made his dick twitch. Your cheeks flushed, eyes wide and dazed, he was enjoying this side of you, not just the view, but the silence. The rare moment where you weren’t fighting or talking back. Just breathless. Still and oh so pretty when you look up at him like that.

You suddenly felt self conscious, it’s not like you’ve never been in this position before. But this was different, it felt new, confusing, and for some reason that made it all the more sensual. You turn your head away from him, squishing together your thighs to stop him from seeing anything, also remembering it’s been a while and let’s face it she was sporting a well groomed brush.

“you sure you want this?” he looks concerned. But you can see in his eyes how much he wants you. And you want it too.

“sorry, I do. It just feels weird, 6 months ago I hated you. I think I’m just in my head” you’re being honest, your body wants to open up to him but your brain is telling you no.

“we can take it slow, stop whenever you want” and you can tell he’s serious, this was a whole new side of him you were seeing. Someone caring, thoughtful and respectful.

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. This time, you were confident. You kissed him slow, painfully slow, dragging your tongue across his bottom lip, asking him, pleading to let you in. But he doesn’t, he just lets out a small laugh into your mouth, teasing. You let out a pathetic whine, unimpressed.

You tried again, this time grinding upward, and that was enough to short-circuit both your brains. He parted his lips, letting you in. The kiss was hot, nasty, and messy. like you were both trying to memorize each other. Wooyoung parted from your lips, moving and you let out a small cry, sad it was over. But sure enough, moments later he was pressing small kisses over your body, lips brushing the inside of your thighs.

“you’re so soft baby.” He says while grinning. He blows against your core, the rush of cool air made you jolt, hips lifting involuntarily. “it’s okay I’ve got you”.

He starts drawing small circling over your clit. You melted into him, breath hitching, body responding to every gentle stroke and kiss. Suddenly you felt two fingers slowly push past your entrance. A gasp ripped from your lips.

“You can take it. That’s it. Good girl” each praise sent a pulse straight through your core, dragging you closer to the edge. He was curling his fingers and moving at the perfect rhythm, arching off the sofa, you let out a gut wrenching moan. You felt sparks shoot from your tummy and down your legs, the burning sensation warning you, telling you you’re close. You clung to him, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard. It was the only thing grounding you. You were on the brink of ecstasy, Wooyoung removed his mouth from your core, coming back up to press kisses across your neck, lips, face… anywhere he could reach. “mhmhpp woo please” you whimper.

“shhh baby” he purred, enjoying the affect he’s having on you. “you’re doing so well. You’re so pretty like this”

You could feel his free hand teasing at the neckline of your vest, tugging it gently, freeing your breasts. He took one in his mouth and began sucking, but only for a moment before pulling away, leaving it slick with his spit. But he wasn’t done, he moved straight to toying with them, pulling and pinching. You were a mess of moans and incoherent words. The burning throughout your lower half getting more violent.

You barely had time to form the words, breath catching in your throat. “Woo- I’m…”

“hold on, that’s a good girl. Hold off for just a little longer”

“I can’t- please-I’m” But your voice faltered.

He moved down your body, giving your thighs a kiss before attaching his mouth to your core again. You gasped, hastily searching for something to grab. You ended up fisting a bunch of cash and a handful of his hair, this caused him to moan against you and that was it.

A high pitched “Woo-” was all you managed before a string of nonsense fell from your lips. A gasp for air and a moan tore from your throat followed by a gush between your legs. You came. Eyes snapping shut, you were blissed out and unaware of the mess you made.

When you finally came to, breath still shallow, you were met with the sight of a cocky man who was now sat spread across your sofa by your feet. He was wide-eyed, stunned, and clearly impressed.

“Fuck, Y/N” he breathed, voice low and wrecked.

His gaze dropped to his hand, slick and trembling, then back to you. Blissed out, flushed, and barely able to hold his stare. The disbelief in his expression was almost comical.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to” you blurted, sitting upright, instinctively searching for something to clean up the mess you’d made.

But he caught your wrist, firm and steady. “Yes you did.” he said, voice low and proud. There was no shame in his tone, just satisfaction.

Your cheeks now red. “I… um” you stammered. He was right.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. The warmth between you lingered. His thumb brushed over your wrist where he’d caught you, slow and absentminded. You both sat like this for a while, you were enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in his lap. It felt safe.

He glanced toward the window, noticing the sun was starting to rise, then back at you. “Look, I’ve gotta go.” A pause. “I’m not trying to bail, but you know how it is.”

You did. Loose ends with cash needed to be tied up with DK. You needed to do the same. And with the cops sniffing around, things could get complicated fast.

“I’ll be back in afternoon, okay?”

But it doesn’t mean you weren’t fuming. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t slept together. He didn’t get to touch you like that, make you feel like that, and then just walk out like it meant nothing.

“Sure, whatever” you snapped, getting up and pulling on your shorts, you turn away from him. The walls you’d let down moments ago were already rebuilding, brick by brick.

His eyes tracked you, lingering as you covered yourself. He looked like he wanted to step forward, say something, do something, but he hesitated. And then chose not to, not wanting to make things worse.

“See you later, okay… baby?” he said softly, testing the waters with the pet name. Surely you couldn’t stay mad if he called you baby… right?

WRONG.

“Yeah. Bye.” You ushered him toward the door, and once he’d stepped through, you slammed it shut behind him, hoping it would hit him on the way out.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

After tossing and turning, you barely slept. Maybe an hour, tops. The combination of anger, hurt, and the burning still present between your legs, all keeping you awake.

By morning, you needed air. And caffeine. You took yourself to your favourite coffee shop, it was quiet and familiar. The spring sun was a blessing, casting a soft glow over the damp pavement. You let it warm your face as you walked, sipping your coffee slowly.

You arrived back at the garage with a tray of coffees and a box of pastries for the crew. The walk had given you time to think, to breathe, to sort through the mess in your head.

And you came to a conclusion.

You needed to punch him. Straight in the gut, hard enough to make a point. Maybe even hit up those Etsy witches and curse him with a lifetime of limp dick. Yeah perfect, that’s PERFECT. Okay, maybe that was a bit much. You were probably blowing things out of proportion.

But still… it hurt. Being left like that. Like you didn’t matter.

You’d spent the first few hours of the day doing the finishing touches on his car. You’d already installed the new kinetic dampeners, upgraded the engine to a Turbocharged 2JZ-GTE and installed a new clutch to give him a half-second edge in acceleration. And finally, what you were most proud about, the spray job. A silky black base layered with a blue and green duo-chrome finish that shifted under the light like oil on water. You had decided against wrapping as it wouldn’t do the car justice. And as much as it pained you to admit, you actually enjoyed working on his car.

You wiped your hands on a rag, staring at the car like it owed you something. You were mad. Still. But you understood. That didn’t mean you forgave him. By the time afternoon rolled around, you were under the hood, finishing the last calibration when you heard the familiar sound of boots on concrete.

You didn’t look up.

You hear a low whistle… “wow you really put in the work didn’t you. I can’t believe this is the same car”

You didn’t bother to reply. "it looks sick, you did an amazing job" even after praise, you said nothing.

“I said I’d come back.” Wooyoung said, voice quiet.

“You did” you replied, still focused on the wiring. “Didn’t say I’d be happy about it.”

He stepped closer, watching you work. “You finished it?”

Sliding out from underneath it. you nodded. “She’s faster. Smarter. Meaner. Just like you.” A subtle dig at him, you wanted it to hurt.

But he just smirked, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a smile.

“Let’s take it for a spin.”

You lifted your brows slightly. “You sure?” but it came out more like a “you can’t be serious right now”

“yeah, lets go” he said, eyes wide with excitement.

“No...” you said. Grabbing the keys. “But I do need to feel something that doesn’t piss me off. So sure why not.”

On the road.

The city blurred past, from the greys and blues of city life to the greens and browns of the country side. He drove fast, but not reckless, the engine growling beneath you. You were sat in the passenger seat, watching him with that unreadable expression.

“You’re mad.” he said.

“No shit.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounded fed up. You gripped the sides of the seat. He exhaled, frustrated. “I showed up, didn’t I?”

“Don’t act like showing up fixes everything.”

He sighed, jaw tight. “I didn’t mean to mess it up.”

“but here we are.”

He paused, eyes searching yours. “you act like I planned to hurt you.”

You didn’t respond after that.

Silence stretched between you, thick with tension.

He pulled into a quiet overlook, the city sprawling glowing under the setting sun. The engine hummed as he parked, hands still on the wheel.

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to” he said. “I left because I had to.”

You turned to him, eyes sharp. “I know. But it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

“then let me fix it. I can’t if you won’t let me.”

You looked at him for a long moment, the anger slowly fading. Dulled by the way he was looking at you. Like he meant it. You didn't want to be mad anymore.

Your hand moved first, brushing his knuckles. He turned toward you, hesitant, hopeful.

His hand moving to brush a stray hair to behind your ear.

And then you leaned in. Pouting your lips and sporting a frown, as if you were asking for an “I’m sorry” kiss. He took the hint.

The kiss was gentle. No heat, no rush. Just quiet forgiveness. A silent agreement to try again.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I’m still mad” you whispered. “I know, I’m sorry” he said, smiling faintly “But you kissed me anyway.” he couldn't help himself.

It’s been a few weeks since that night, and things have been pretty consistent but different. You and Wooyoung message more now. He takes you on late-night cruises through the city in the Supra and the Integra, and you’ve even started showing up to hangouts together. Mingling your friends with his. Outside of race nights and the occasional kickback, nobody really knew each other all that well, but it was starting to feel natural.

You’d kissed a few more times since then. Nothing more.

Tonight, everyone was at a warehouse party thrown by DK, who’d extended the invite last week when you went to collect your winnings. The place was packed and sweaty, the music loud and chaotic. DK, of course, was also the DJ, spinning a mix of rap and dance tracks that had the walls vibrating.

You and your friends had dressed up for the occasion, going all out in matching fits, leathers and silvers. You wore an acid-wash leather bustier with buckles and lace-up details, paired with a long black sheer pencil skirt. It was see-through enough to tease, and underneath you had on the cutest pair of black knickers that had a tiny pink bow detail. But you’d have to be close enough or staring to catch that detail. You finished the look with pointy kitten heels, practical enough to keep your feet from dying halfway through the night.

Tiny bag in hand and surrounded by your gang of equally hot friends, you felt unstoppable.

You were in the smoking area, chatting like nobody was listening.

“Get me a fucking drink!” you shouted, giddy, turning to your friends.

“I’m gonna get fucked up and kiss somebody” Chuu declared.

“Yeah, not us this time though” Yeosang teased. Your friend group had a thing for getting drunk and kissing each other. It never got complicated and it was always fun, just a few sloppy kisses and playful gropes in the club.

“What we need to do” Yeosang said, lighting up “is get Y/N drunk so she finally spills the deets on Wooyoung.”

You froze. You hadn’t told them anything. All they knew was you guys were sort of friends now. You were too scared to. Because, let’s face it you didn’t know where you stood. You hadn’t really slept together. But you wanted to. Did he? If he did, he hadn’t made a move. That night in the garage had left you confused.

“Guys, I don’t have anything to tell” you lied, eyes darting.

“Sure, babe” Yun-jin said, locking eyes with you. “I see the way he looks at you now, like he can’t wait to get his hands on you again.”

Your cheeks burned, half from embarrassment, half from the butterflies in your stomach. The images replayed in your head, making you feel faint.

“SEE! I knew something happened!” she shouted.

“SPILL NOW” Yeosang demanded, pulling a fresh cigarette from the box and lighting it. “Wait-okay, now spill” he added dramatically.

“Fine!” you groaned. “Remember the last meet? When the cops came? He came by the garage to lay low. I had no idea! Don’t ask.”

You looked down at your feet, already cringing at what you were about to say.

“He came by to drop off the cash he won-”

A sea of gasps cut you off.

“Let me finish! He had done the abandoned garage track that night. And won!”

“Why are you telling us this part? I don’t care, girl. get to the juice!”

“Okay, okay! He may or may not have gone down on me… while I was laying on said cash.”

“OH MY GOD.” “NO WAY.” “THAT’S HOT.” “YOU’RE LYING.” “DID YOU GUYS FUCK?”

You could barely make out what anyone was saying over the chaos. You were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

“Okay, now you know” you said between giggles. “Can we please go inside and get a drink?”

They couldn’t believe what they heard.

Back in the warehouse the walls were vibrating with bass, bodies moving like waves under strobe lights. DK was in his element behind the DJ booth, shirt half-unbuttoned, sunglasses on. The air was thick with sweat, smoke, and an oddly pleasing mix perfume and cologne.

Wooyoung had arrived with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Jongho and the rest of the crew. They’d all smoked earlier, and it showed in the way their eyes were red and low-lidded.

They all resided in a corner for now, chatting and enjoying time together before they headed off to do their own things. He leaned against a pillar near the dance floor, watching.

And there you were.

Dancing with your friends, laughing, glowing under the lights. That acid-wash leather bustier clung to you like it was made for your body, and the sheer pencil skirt left just enough to the imagination. You moved like you didn’t care who was watching.

Guys tried their luck. One after another. A hand on your arm, a lean-in whisper, a cocky smile. You didn’t even flinch. Just gave them a look, sharp, dismissive. With a roll of your eyes, you waved them off, not interested in some sweaty guy who probably didn’t bother brushing their teeth before coming here. You weren’t here for them.

Wooyoung’s jaw flexed. He didn’t say anything. Just watched.

“She’s gonna catch you staring.” Hongjoong said, nudging him with his elbow. “I bet she can feel you looking.”

Wooyoung blinked, snapping out of it just enough to glance at his friends. Seonghwa was smirking, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the show.

“What’s going on between you two anyway?” Seonghwa chimed in, sipping from his drink. “She’s been around a lot lately. You seem to like it. Even bring her places now.”

“Yeah,” Jongho added, raising a brow. “You don’t do that unless it’s something.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure” Hongjoong said, dragging out the word. “But you’re watching her like she’s the only one in the room.”

Wooyoung didn’t respond. He just exhaled slowly, eyes drifting back to you.

“She’s just… different now.” Wooyoung muttered, almost to himself.

“There it is!” Jongho laughed.

“Nah” Seonghwa said, shaking his head. “She’s always been like that. You just didn’t notice bro.”

Jongho snorted. “Now look at you. All soft and obsessed.”

“I’m not obsessed” Wooyoung said, rolling his eyes.

“Right” Hongjoong teased. “She’s popular tonight” he added, nodding toward the dance floor.

“Yeah, she’s giving out dirty looks like party favours” Jongho laughed. “Be careful, bro. She’s got options.”

Wooyoung didn’t respond. Just exhaled slowly. Then he pushed off the pillar and made his way through the crowd.

You notice him immediately, you shoot him a wink, calling him over. He laughs and points at himself. “me?” he mouths.

You widen your eyes, tilt your head, and nod, making yourself look as cute and innocent as possible. He doesn’t hesitate. He weaves through the crowd, slipping behind you on the dance floor. His hands don’t touch you…yet. His voice is low in your ear, warm and teasing.

“You look dangerous tonight” he murmurs. “You make all this effort for me?”

You smile without turning around, swaying your hips just a little more deliberately.

You turned slightly, smirking. “Maybe. You gonna do something about it?”

Copying you, in a faux innocent voice “Maybe.” He leaned in closer, breath brushing your neck. “That skirt’s illegal. And that bow? You’re trying to kill me.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, but your heart was thudding now. His presence was magnetic. You didn’t want it to end.

You swayed your hips, still dancing with your friends, but now you were well aware of who was behind you. He’s holding your hips now, applying enough pressure to pull you back into him. His face dipped into the curve of your neck, lips brushing skin as he whispered between kisses.

“You’re killing me” he murmured. “You look so good like this, baby.”

It was driving you wild. You could feel him pressing against your backside. You almost lost your balance when he leaned in closer, voice low and raspy.

“Can you feel that?” he breathed. “That’s all you.”

“You wanna take this somewhere quieter?” he asked. “My car’s around back.”

You didn’t answer right away. You turned to look at him, then you nodded.

“Let’s go.”

He took your hand, guiding you through the crowd. No one stopped you. Your friends just laughed and waved you off, knowing exactly what was happening. On the way out, you caught a glimpse of Chuu glued to the side of a stunning black-haired girl, you’d ask about that later. And in the corner, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were looking suspiciously cozy. Hmmm. Maybe one day you’d dare to ask.

Outside, the Supra waited. The night wasn’t over, not even close and you couldn’t wait.

You both reached the car, wasting no time he pushed you up against the trunk. Attaching his lips to yours, you open your mouth for easy access almost immediately, tired of months and months of tension and wanting to remain within boundaries. Both of you either fuelled by alcohol or weed, all consideration went out the window and now the only thing either of you could think about was the other. Having a full blown make out session for the whole world to see, you feel excited, a new feeling taking over as you don’t feel conscious at all. Let them watch, you wanted everyone to know. You felt possessive over him.

He pulls away for a moment, to catch his breath but to also take in your image. Your lipstick was now everywhere and your lips were puffy and pink. He needed you, wanted you more than anything. Coming in to kiss you again, you part your lips slightly, before his tongue could make it in your mouth you took it between your lips and started sucking.

This sent him spiralling, pulling away from you quickly. “Get in the car.” was all he said.

You just giggled, opening the back door, there was no intention of anyone driving this car. Bending over and giving your butt a wiggle you crawled into the back, but all your smugness was replaced with shock when you felt a firm smack on your ass. You gasp “hmm you’re a brat, good to know”

The Supra’s interior was dim, tinted windows cloaking you both in shield of privacy, broken only by the distant thump of bass from the warehouse.

He climbed in after you, shutting the door with a soft click, the world outside had been sealed off.

You shimmied out of your skirt, knowing it would only get in the way. The sheer fabric slipped off easily, exposing just how cute your undies were, the little pink bow sitting pretty, taunting him. You wore them in the hopes he would like them.

He leaned in, using his hands and body to guide your legs further onto the back seats, rubbing your thighs as he settled between them. Laid out missionary-style in the cramped space, it was a tight fit but you’d make it work. One hand braced beside your head, the other brushed your jaw.

You leaned in, closing the space between you, and kissed him low, deep, and nasty. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you shifted beneath him. His lips trailed down your neck, murmuring things you couldn’t quite catch but his breath sent a hot feeling right through you. His hands roamed and yours tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. You used the grip to tilt his head, kissing his neck from below.

Your hands began to explore, slipping under his shirt, tracing the lines of his body. You realised you’d never actually felt him like this. The warmth of his skin made you woozy, intoxicated by the sensation. You lifted his shirt, exposing his stomach, and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I can see you drooling” he teased, grabbing the hem of his shirt and biting it, holding it in his mouth to keep his body on full display.

Instead of firing back, you just ran your hand slowly down his abs, watching him shudder under your touch. You felt powerful.

You moved to unbuckle his belt, catching his gaze, shirt still in his mouth. Without warning, you finished opening the belt and unbuttoned his trousers, prompting him to shift and help slide them down his legs. You grabbed the waistband of his boxers and freed him.

With a firm grip, your warm hand wrapped around him.

“Hhmppph, Y/N,” he groaned, voice muffled by the shirt still clenched between his teeth.

You started to pump him slowly. He let out small whimpers, lips now pressed to your neck, struggling to keep himself steady in the tight space. You picked up the pace and could feel him faltering, too lost in the feeling of your touch.

So he stopped what he was doing and pulled you with him.

You climbed into his lap without hesitation.

With your legs settled at his sides, everything felt more comfortable now. Looking down at him, you took his face in your hands, cupping it like he was something precious, then leaned in to give him a soft, tiny kiss.

He placed one hand on your hip, the other slipping between your bodies. Slowly, he pulled your underwear to the side, but not before pausing to play with the little pink bow. “Pretty” he murmured, voice low. His pupils were blown wide, and the way he swallowed hard told you he was holding back.

He slid his fingers through you, groaning at the sensation. Your hips bucked involuntarily. Taking that as a request for more, he slipped his fingers inside you with ease.

“You’re so wet, baby” he whispered, placing his free hand on your face, his grip firm, holding you in place so you couldn’t look away. “Gonna be a good girl for me and make a mess?” His gaze was taunting.

You moaned, eyes rolling back, the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you sending goosebumps across your skin. You couldn’t control the noises that escaped you, you could feel the tension building, close to the edge. “ughhh don’t stop-” you whimper.

“come for me baby” he wanted to see you fucked out again. He’d been dreaming of it ever since that night.

You needed no encouragement, you let out a loud moan, straight from the chest and came.

“there is it, that’s my girl” His hand and lower half now soaked, he continues his coaxing motion, wanting more. You throw you head back, overstimulated. Unable to make any noise, your lungs stopped working. You reach down to grab his hand to stop him.

He laughs “awhh poor thing, is it too much?”

“More” is all you managed to get out. You glanced up, eyes wide and pleading, silently asking for permission. He didn’t hesitate. Taking over, he lined himself up and slowly pushed in, bottoming out with a breathless, “Fuck-” that sent shivers down your spine.

You saw stars with the stretch, your body arching back, using the front seats as leverage, he began to move. He wanted you to feel every inch, to remember the way he felt.

But you needed more.

You started to meet his thrusts, urging a faster pace. Sweet and tender could wait. Tonight, you wanted everything. “Woo- please, I need you. All of you” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. You set the rhythm, bouncing faster, your breath coming in short, desperate whimpers against his skin.

“You can’t keep making noises like that” he groaned, voice strained. “Shit, I won’t last.”

Frustrated by the lack of control, he gripped your hips and began thrusting up into you, harder, deeper. Your head fell back, mouth parted in a silent cry. His hands roamed your body, tugging at your top, trying to free you from it. You guided him to the zipper, breathless.

“Woo, please… touch me” you begged, needing to feel him everywhere.

“I will, princess. You fuck me so well” he groaned, voice breathy and low. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

His pace picked up, hips snapping harder as he buried his face in your chest, lips closing around a pointed nipple. The sudden stimulation made you gasp, almost scream. But he was quick to hush you.

“Ahh, you’re so noisy” he whined, bringing a hand to your mouth and slipping two fingers between your lips. You accepted them gladly, the intrusion driving you wild.

“ugh girl’s drooling” he murmured, still thrusting into you. With firm pressure in his fingers, he guided your head down, and you followed, eyes locked on his. He leaned in, tongue flicking out to catch the drool dripping from your chin.

Your walls clenched around him instantly. He felt it.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” he smirked.

You moan around his fingers, unable to form words, your body trembling. Your movements became staggered, no longer able to meet his rhythm.

He pulls his drool covered fingers from your mouth, then slowly traces them across your lips, smearing the spit around like he’s marking you, savouring the mess you’ve made together. "I think- I’m- gonna come” you gasped, voice muffled and desperate.

“yeah? eyes on me baby” You look. His smug cocky attitude was going to send you over the edge.

“Come for me.” His voice was deadpan, commanding. With a few more erratic thrusts, your body gave in, pleasure hitting it’s peak, trembling on top of him.

“Fuuck- fuck,” he groaned, voice breaking as he followed seconds later, hips stuttering as he spilled into you.

You both stayed there, tangled and breathless, riding out the last pulses of pleasure with slow, gentle grinding. His head rested on your chest, rising and falling with each of your breaths. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, and he traced soft circles over your back. You let yourselves sink into the post-orgasm bliss.

“That’s got to be the best sex I’ve ever had” he laughed into your chest, still trying to catch his breath.

“Mmhmm” you murmured, barely able to speak. Your body felt heavy, spent. He shifted, lifting his head to look at you. Your eyes were sleepy, cheeks flushed, lips parted just slightly and he was in awe.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, just tired now,” you whispered, pushing him back gently so you could rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes.

He chuckled, brushing a hand down your spine. “As much as I enjoyed my time inside you, I think it’s time to get you home… and cleaned up.”

He helped guide you off his lap, trying and failing not to look at the mess between your thighs. His release was still dripping down your legs, and though he tried to be respectful, he was just a man. And the sight was impossible to ignore.

“You don’t understand how bad I want to do that again,” he muttered, half to himself, running a hand through his hair. “I need to get you home. It’s for the best.”

You just laughed, grabbing your skirt and using it to clean up what you could before fixing your underwear. He fixed himself up, adjusted his clothes, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

The drive home was quiet. You rested, curled slightly toward the window. He took the long way, slow residential roads, no rush. The glow of the streetlights lit up your features, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the softness of your lips, the way your lashes fluttered with each breath.

He glanced at you, heart tugging.

I don’t want to let her go. Ever. Don’t mess this up. he thought, fingers tightening slightly around the wheel.

And in that quiet moment, with you sleeping beside him, he felt something settle deep in his chest. Something real. You felt it too.

#best piece of work to grace tumblr that i’ve read in a LONG time #i need jung wooyoung so bad #wooyoung🐈‍⬛#mia’s reads!