𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘖𝘯𝘦!

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YOU READY TO GET FUCKING SUED

BRO DANN GROW A BACKBONE I SWEAR YOU KEEP PISSING ME OFF

Popular, Boy

☆14: The first confession.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, slow burn, angst, drama, dark romance, love triangle.

wc: 8,7k

Summary: While some battles are fought with fists, others are waged behind closed doors, where power, reputation, and control mean everything.

And when innocence is placed at the center of the storm, the lines between family and enemy blur.

Warnings: Cursing, physical violence, power dynamics, fluff.

an: We are almost at the end of the series!! I hope you enjoy the last chapters coming soon♡

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆13 ☆15: The first checkmate. Coming soon.

The waiting room smells like antiseptic and paperwork, a sterile combination that makes your stomach churn.

You tap your nails against your thigh, gaze locked on the reception desk as if willing the nurse to call your name faster.

Hongjoong sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee, a silent anchor. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell you to calm down, but his presence alone is enough to keep you grounded.

It’s been a week. A long, exhausting week of waiting. And now, it’s finally time. A nurse steps out from behind the desk, a folder in her hands.

“Miss Clarke?”

You stand immediately, legs tense, heart hammering. He follows suit, his hand finding yours, lacing his fingers through yours without hesitation.

The nurse hands you the folder with a professional smile, oblivious to the weight of what she’s just given you.

“Here are the results. Let us know if you need anything else.”

You nod stiffly, clutching the envelope as if it might slip through your fingers and disappear. Neither of you says a word as you leave the hospital.

Not even when you slide into Hongjoong’s car.

Not even when you place the envelope on your lap, staring at your name printed neatly on the front.

The tension is suffocating.

He glances at you before reaching over, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

“Pretty,” He murmurs, soft but firm. “Do you want me to open it?”

You inhale sharply, then shake your head “No.”

With careful movements, you break the seal and pull out the papers. Your eyes skim the words—test subject, percentage, confirmation—until you find it.

99.9% probability of paternity.

Your fingers tighten around the edges of the document, your breath catching.

There it is.

Proof.

The proof you needed to finally rip Mike’s perfect image to shreds.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his free hand still resting over yours “It’s real,” He says, like he already knows. Like he never had a doubt.

You nod, throat tight “It’s real.”

For a few moments, you let yourself sit in the weight of it.

Then, you exhale and fold the papers neatly, sliding them back into the envelope “Let’s go.”

✮ ⋆

Your room is dimly lit. You and Hongjoong sit on your bed, the envelope between you, a silent promise of what’s coming.

You tap the envelope once before speaking “Mike has a business trip in two days.”

Hongjoong leans back against the headboard, arms crossed “That’s when you’re telling them?”

“That’s when I’ll have the best chance,” You confirm. “If he’s here, he’ll find a way to twist everything. He’ll manipulate them, make himself the victim. I need them to see the truth without his interference.”

He nods, understanding “And you need me there.”

You look at him then, taking in the steady certainty in his eyes “I want you there,” You admit. “As a witness. As… as support.”

His gaze softens, and he reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently “I’ll be there, pretty.”

The words settle something deep inside you, a quiet reassurance that you won’t have to face this alone.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the storm outside mirror the one building inside your home.

In two days, everything would change.

And for the first time, you were ready for it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann hesitates outside Mike’s study, her hands clammy as she wrings them together. She shouldn’t be here.

She doesn’t want to be here.

But she doesn’t have a choice. With a deep breath, she knocks. A sharp ‘Come in’ Follows almost immediately.

Dann swallows and steps inside. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and his signature cologne. He sits at his desk, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp as it lands on her.

She feels like prey.

“Well?” His voice is clipped, impatient. “What is it?”

Dann shifts uncomfortably, her nails digging into the skin of her palm “I… I overheard something.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“It’s about YN.”

That gets his attention. Mike’s entire body stiffens, his sharp gaze snapping toward Dann.

“What about her?” His voice is low, laced with something dangerous.

Dann forces herself to keep her composure, though the weight of his stare makes her stomach churn.

“She… she was on the phone with Hongjoong a couple of days ago,” She begins hesitantly. “I didn’t hear much, but I caught a name.”

He doesn’t react right away. He just watches. Waiting.

Dann swallows hard “Hannah.”

The sound of glass shattering against the wall makes her flinch violently.

Her breath catches as she watches whiskey drip down the bookshelf, the remnants of the crystal glass scattered across the polished wood floor.

Mike rises abruptly, his chair scraping against the ground, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hands curl into fists. His entire body trembles with barely contained rage.

“What did you just say?” His voice is dangerously low.

Dann forces the words out, her pulse hammering “I–I heard her say they should go with Hannah. And then she left with Hongjoong. I don’t know where they went, but—”

His palm slams down onto the desk with a force that rattles the papers on top of it. Dann jumps, her entire body locking up.

“You’re sure?” His voice is tight, seething.

She nods frantically “Yes. She said it clearly.”

Mike’s breathing turns ragged, his chest rising and falling too fast. The room is heavy with his fury, suffocating.

That bitch.

He told Hannah to disappear. He made sure of it. There was no way you could have been in contact with her.

Unless…

His stomach twists with something unfamiliar—something dangerously close to dread.

What if Hannah never left?

What if—

His fingers dig into the desk as he exhales sharply, forcing himself to think. His thoughts are spiraling, unraveling, but one thing is certain.

He needs answers. Now.

Slowly, he turns to Dann, his expression unreadable, voice cold and deliberate.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.”

Dann nods quickly, stepping back toward the door. She doesn’t need to be told twice. But before she can escape, his voice slices through the air again.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” His tone is eerily calm, but the way his chest rises and falls betrays his barely leashed fury.

Dann hesitates, a chill running down her spine. She already knows where this is going. And once again… it’s her fault.

“I… I don’t know,” She whispers.

But he’s already moving.

Without another word, Mike practically bolts from the room, his footsteps heavy with purpose.

Dann stands frozen for a second, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Then, without thinking, she rushes after him.

If she can stop him from hurting you again… maybe, just maybe, she can lessen the guilt threatening to drown her.

✮ ⋆

The moment the bedroom door slams open, you barely have time to react before Mike storms inside.

Hongjoong stiffens beside you, his entire body going rigid as he instinctively moves closer. Dann lingers by the doorway, frozen in place.

But the older one doesn't look at them. He doesn’t even acknowledge their presence. His furious gaze is locked solely on you.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” His voice is low, dangerously quiet—but you know better than to mistake it for restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, keeping your expression indifferent even as your heart pounds.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mike. I play a lot of things.”

His jaw ticks. His hands curl into fists at his sides.

“I’m not in the mood for your stupid games,” He spits. “You were with her.”

You blink, feigning confusion “With who?”

His hand moves so fast you barely see it.

The force of the slap sends your head snapping to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. The taste of blood blooms on your tongue.

Hongjoong moves before you can even react. He shoves Mike back, hard enough that he stumbles a step.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His voice is sharp, furious, his breathing ragged with anger.

But Mike barely even looks at him. Instead, he straightens, smoothing out the front of his shirt like he isn’t the least bit fazed.

Then, he steps forward again, crowding you, towering over you like a storm ready to break. You lift your chin defiantly, refusing to cower.

“Where is she?” His voice is a low growl. “Where the fuck is Hannah?”

You tilt your head, licking the cut on your lip before giving him the most infuriatingly nonchalant smile you can muster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes darken “Don’t fucking lie to me, YN.”

“Lie to you?” You scoff. “Please. If there’s anyone who’s an expert in lying, it’s you.”

Another step forward. Another inch of space stolen.

Hongjoong moves again, stepping between you and Mike this time, his stance firm, protective.

“Back. The fuck. Off.” His voice is steady, but his hands are clenched into fists, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap.

Mike glares at him, as if just now registering his existence.

“And what the hell are you going to do about it, nerd?”

Hongjoong doesn’t flinch “Try me and find out.”

There’s a heavy pause. The air crackles with tension.

And then… Mike smirks.

It’s slow, cold, calculated.

“Cute,” He mutters, voice dripping with condescension. “She’s really got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond, doesn’t rise to the bait. But you see it—the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his jaw tightens.

And then, there’s Dann.

Standing by the doorway, silent, watching.

She does nothing, says nothing.

Just like before.

And something inside you snaps. You inhale sharply, the pain in your cheek already numbing beneath the flood of anger boiling in your veins.

“I don’t have time for your theatrics, Michael,” You say, your voice eerily calm. “So unless you have anything useful to say, get the fuck out of my room.”

Mike tilts his head, his smirk widening “You’re awfully confident for someone who still flinches when I raise my hand.”

You don’t flinch this time. Instead, you step around Hongjoong, closing the distance between you and him in a deliberate, defiant move.

“You should be careful,” You whisper, eyes locking onto his. “Because one day, you’re going to raise your hand at the wrong person.”

Mike doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. And in that moment, something shifts.

A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even a sliver of doubt, crosses his expression—so brief you might have imagined it.

Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

He scoffs, rolling his shoulders before stepping back “This isn’t over,” He mutters.

You smile, sickly sweet “Oh, I know.”

With that, he turns sharply on his heel and strides out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

Silence.

Hongjoong exhales, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

Dann?

Still standing there.

Still watching.

She looks like she’s just seen a ghost—pale, eyes wide, shoulders drawn tight. Guilt hangs off her like a second skin, but you don’t give a fuck.

You exhale sharply, turning toward her with slow, deliberate movements.

“Why are you still here?” Your voice is flat, emotionless.

Dann swallows hard, her hands trembling as she grips the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

“YN, I—”

Your patience snaps “Get the fuck out.” Dann flinches, shame flashing across her face. “Did I fucking stutter?” You step forward, eyes burning into hers. “Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stands there, frozen in place, like she wants to say something—needs to—but she can’t.

Your fingers curl into fists “You stood there and did nothing. Again.” You shake your head, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a fucking coward.”

Dann’s eyes glisten for a fraction of a second, but you don’t care.

You don’t fucking care.

She chose this.

She chose to side with Mike.

And now, she’s realizing it—realizing that no matter how much guilt is eating her alive, it doesn’t change the fact that she let him hurt you.

Again.

Hongjoong, still fuming, finally speaks “You heard her,” He says, voice low and cold. “Get out.”

Dann’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. Then, after a painfully long moment she nods. Her gaze drops to the floor as she turns on shaky legs and stumbles toward the door.

She hesitates when she reaches the threshold, gripping the handle so tight her knuckles turn white.

“I never meant for it to be like this,” She whispers, voice barely above a breath.

You don’t respond. She lingers for just another second—just long enough for you to see the full weight of her regret in her expression.

Then, she steps out, and the door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

Finally, you exhale, your body collapsing on the bed.

Hongjoong’s already by your side, his hand gently cupping your face. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watching you with concern in his eyes.

You can feel the heat of his gaze, but it doesn’t comfort you—it only makes you more aware of the hurt still burning inside.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs softly, gently lifting your chin to inspect the cut on your lip.

His fingers are warm, his touch careful, and you bite down a wince when he brushes his thumb over your skin.

“I’m fine,” You mutter, your voice still hoarse from the shouting and the silence that follows.

He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he exhales sharply, shaking his head before standing up.

“Stay here,” He says firmly.

You watch as he disappears into your private bathroom, the sound of cabinets opening and closing filling the quiet room. Moments later, he returns with a small first-aid kit in his hands.

He kneels in front of you, placing the kit on the bed as he pulls out antiseptic and some cotton.

“This is going to sting,” He warns, soaking the cotton pad with the antiseptic before pressing it gently against your split lip.

You flinch, a sharp hiss escaping your lips “No shit, Sherlock.”

He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head but continuing his task with steady hands.

“You and your damn mouth,” He mutters, his tone affectionate despite his frustration.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice soothes something inside you. He finishes dabbing at the wound, then carefully applies a bit of ointment with his fingertip, his touch unbearably soft.

When he’s done, he pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if making sure there aren’t any more hidden injuries. His fingers brush your jaw, lingering for a moment.

“YN…” His voice is quiet, serious.

You exhale, knowing what he’s going to say, knowing he wants you to be honest about what’s going on.

“I’m not going to let him get away with this, Hongjoong,” You say before he can speak, your voice firm despite the dull ache in your lip.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and if my parents try to cover for him, if they try to ignore the truth and protect him, I’ll sue him.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look shocked. Just… resolute. Like he’s been waiting for you to say this.

“I’ll sue him for physical violence,” You continue, your voice steady now. “For everything he’s done to me. And for abandoning his child. If my parents refuse to see the truth, then I’ll expose it all.” Your gaze hardens. “I won’t let him pretend like this never happened. I’ll go after him for everything.”

Hongjoong lets out a slow breath, then places his hand on yours, squeezing it gently.

“I’m with you, pretty. Whatever you need.” His words are quiet, but they hit you harder than you expected.

You smile, a little softer now, though the fire in your chest doesn’t fade.

“Thanks. I can’t do this alone. I need you, Joong. I need someone who actually cares.”

He leans in closer, brushing his lips against your forehead “I’m not going anywhere, pretty. You don’t have to worry about that.”

His words are like a balm to the raw, exposed parts of you that still burn from the events of the past week.

You lean into him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you, but the battle is far from over.

And you’ll fight it until the very end.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The sound of luggage wheels rolling across the marble floor echoes faintly from the main hall. The staff murmurs in hushed voices as they move about, ensuring everything is ready for Mike’s departure.

You remain in your room, not bothering to come downstairs to see him off. You have no reason to.

But of course, that doesn’t mean he’ll leave without seeing you first.

A sharp knock rattles your bedroom door. You don’t move, keeping your gaze fixed on your vanity mirror as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss across your lips.

The door swings open anyway.

“Still sleeping in?” His voice drips with condescension as he steps inside, hands tucked into his suit pockets. “What a waste of a morning.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror, your expression blank “Did I invite you in?”

Mike chuckles, slow and deliberate as he leans against your doorframe “Oh, don’t be like that, dear sister.” His tone is almost mocking. “I’m leaving for a few days. Thought I’d be nice and say goodbye.”

You finally turn in your chair, crossing your legs as you tilt your head.

“You? Nice?” A smirk plays on your lips. “That’s new.”

His expression darkens, but he keeps his composure “Just making sure you don’t get any… stupid ideas while I’m gone.”

Your smirk doesn’t fade “Stupid ideas?” You rest your chin on your palm. “Like what? Going out with Hongjoong? Or maybe—oh, I don’t know—breathing without your permission?”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer.

“You think you’re untouchable just because Mom and Dad tolerate your little tantrums. But don’t forget, YN,” He leans down slightly, lowering his voice, “I always know what you’re up to.”

You hold his gaze, unfazed. If he’s trying to intimidate you, he’s wasting his time.

“Oh, please.” You scoff, standing up to face him properly. “If you really knew everything, you’d be a lot more pissed off right now.”

For a fraction of a second, something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty.

You smile sweetly, brushing past him toward your closet as if he’s nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing around your space.

“Have fun on your little trip, big brother.” You throw the words over your shoulder, voice dripping with fake politeness. “Try not to ruin anyone’s life while you’re gone.”

Mike’s silence lingers a second too long before he finally exhales sharply.

“We’ll see, little sister.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

The moment the door clicks shut, you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

He knows nothing.

But soon? He will.

And you can’t wait to watch his world burn.

✮ ⋆

“He’ll be gone for four days, so the dinner has to be tomorrow night,” You tell Hannah over the phone, pacing your room.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Doubt laces her voice. “Your parents always side with him… I don’t think this time will be any different.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I’m not gonna lie… I don’t expect some big revelation, but maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to make them see him for who he really is.” Your eyes drift to the stack of photos on your desk. “I already printed some pictures of Lily and me together. She looks adorable.”

Hannah chuckles “Of course she does, she’s my daughter.”

You scoff “Thank God she got your genes and not Mike’s.”

She laughs “Alright, little lady. Good luck tomorrow night. Don’t forget to update me after.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Bye, Hannah.”

Ending the call, you immediately dial Hongjoong. He picks up after a few rings.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

“What’s up?”

“Tomorrow night, I’m telling my parents about Lily.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Okay. What time should I be there?”

“Seven.”

“Got it. I’ll be there.”

With that settled, you head downstairs, finding your parents in the lounge. Your mother is sipping wine, your father reading something on his tablet.

“I was thinking,” You begin smoothly, “We should have a formal family dinner tomorrow. Something nice… and Hongjoong should join us.”

Your mother lights up instantly “Oh, I love that idea! I’ll have the chefs prepare something special.”

Your father hums in agreement, setting his tablet down “Actually, that works well. We have something important to discuss with you tomorrow night.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral.

“Oh? That’s funny. I have something important to tell you too.”

Your mother claps her hands together, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath your words.

“Perfect! Tomorrow will be a lovely evening.”

If only she knew.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next evening, the mansion is buzzing with activity. The dining room is set to perfection—polished silverware, crystal glasses, and candles flickering over the lavish spread of food.

The scent of gourmet dishes drifts through the air as house staff move efficiently, making sure everything is flawless for the ‘perfect’ family dinner.

Your mother walks past, admiring the setup with a pleased hum “This is wonderful,” She says, her red lips curving into a satisfied smile. “I want everything to be just right.”

You take a slow sip of wine, standing near the grand windows as you watch the evening sky darken. They have no idea what’s coming.

“Excited for dinner, sweetheart?” Your mother asks, adjusting one of the centerpiece arrangements.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Oh, very.”

As if on cue, the main doors creak open. You glance over your shoulder just as Hongjoong steps inside, guided by a staff member.

He looks effortlessly good—black slacks, a fitted button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms. His eyes find yours instantly, and a subtle smirk tugs at his lips.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

Your mother claps her hands together, beaming “Hongjoong! I’m so happy you could join us.”

He nods politely “Thank you for having me, Catherine.”

She waves off the formality “Oh, come now, you’re practically family.”

If only she knew how ironic that statement really was.

Before anyone can say more, the deep voice of your father cuts in “Shall we sit?”

You share a quick glance with Hongjoong before following them to the table. The air feels thick with anticipation, a silent countdown ticking in your head.

Soon, your parents will know the truth about their golden son.

Soon, their perfect image of Mike will shatter.

And soon… everything will change.

—

The atmosphere at the table is warm—too warm. Beneath the golden glow of the chandelier, tension lingers like a quiet storm waiting to break.

The clinking of silverware and the occasional murmur of conversation fill the space, but the food on your plate might as well be dust.

Your mother is in an unusually cheerful mood, delighted by Hongjoong’s presence, while your father sips his wine, listening to the flow of conversation with a composed expression. It almost feels… normal.

But you know better.

And then, your father clears his throat, setting his glass down with deliberate care.

“So, darling,” He begins, his sharp gaze settling on you. “Your mother and I have something to discuss with you.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong, who subtly reaches under the table, his hand resting on your thigh—a quiet reassurance.

“Is that so?” You say smoothly, lifting your own glass to your lips. “What is it?”

Your mother beams, leaning in slightly “It’s about Mike.”

Of course it is.

Your father nods, his voice steady, authoritative “We’ve made a decision regarding his future. He’s being named the next CEO of Clarke Enterprises.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass, but you keep your expression impassive.

“He’s been preparing for this role his entire life,” Your mother continues with pride. “This will secure not just his success, but the future of our entire family.”

You place your glass down carefully, tilting your head “You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

Your father nods with satisfaction “It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Legacy. Always the fucking legacy.

Hongjoong’s grip on your thigh tightens, sensing the storm brewing inside you. But he doesn’t stop you.

You inhale slowly, your lips curling into something that almost resembles a smile.

“Well,” You say, voice deceptively light, “Since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Your mother raises an intrigued eyebrow “Oh?”

Your father watches you carefully, his patience thin but present. You sit up straighter, meeting their gazes dead-on.

“It’s about Mike,” You begin, pausing just long enough for anticipation to settle. “And his actual legacy.”

Your mother frowns slightly “What do you mean?”

Your smile sharpens “He already has a daughter.”

Silence.

Your mother blinks. Your father’s wine glass stills mid-air.

“What… did you just say?” Your father asks, his voice eerily calm.

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you deliver the next blow.

“Four years ago, Mike had an affair with one of our housemaids. Her name was Hannah—I’m sure you remember her.”

Your mother’s expression freezes, her posture stiffening. Your father’s jaw tightens, but you don’t stop.

“When she got pregnant, your perfect son threatened her,” You continue, voice unwavering. “He told her to get rid of the baby. He forced me to lie and frame her for stealing so she would be fired. He abandoned her. Abandoned his own child.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out the neatly stacked documents and slide them across the table. Your nails tap against the top page.

“Here.” Your voice is sweet, almost mocking. “A DNA test. Pictures. Bank transactions of the money I have been sending her every month since he left her to fend for herself.”

Your mother’s face drains of color. Your father’s grip on his fork tightens so hard you hear the faint creak of metal.

You tilt your head slightly, watching their reactions with quiet satisfaction “And this is the man you want to give the entire empire to?”

Your mother’s lips part slightly, her manicured fingers reaching hesitantly for the photos. The first image is of Lily alone—her bright, round eyes, her tiny, perfect features. Then another, with you beside her, smiling softly as she clings to your arm.

Your father slowly sets his utensils down, his gaze dark “You’re lying.”

You lean back, crossing your arms “The proof is right in front of you.”

Your mother shakes her head, almost desperate now “No… no, this is—this is a mistake.”

Your father exhales sharply, rubbing his temple “Mike would never—”

“Oh, but he did,” You cut him off smoothly. “And you can either accept that, or continue pretending he’s some flawless heir.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. And then—

“This… cannot get out.”

Your blood runs cold.

You stare at your father, waiting for him to correct himself. To say something that doesn’t make you want to burn this entire house down.

Your mother finally meets your gaze, her expression unreadable “Do you have any idea what this could do to our family? To his future?”

A hollow laugh escapes you “Oh, so that’s what you care about?”

Your father sighs, as if this is just some inconvenience “Mike is going to take over the company. If this scandal comes out, it will ruin everything.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. Hongjoong tenses beside you, his jaw locked, his hand gripping your thigh in restraint.

Your mother softens her voice, like she’s trying to reason with you “YN, sweetie… we cannot let this get out. It’s not just about Mike—it’s about all of us.”

You inhale sharply, schooling your expression. You knew this would happen. You knew. And yet, their blatant dismissal still stings more than it should.

You exhale slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, collecting the documents back into your bag. “I understand.”

Your mother lets out a breath of relief “Good—”

“But let me make one thing very clear,” You cut her off, standing up. “If you try to cover this up—if you refuse to acknowledge that little girl as his daughter—I will make sure everyone finds out.”

Your father’s eyes darken “You wouldn’t dare.”

You meet his stare, unflinching “Try me.”

And they know you mean it. They know.

The air is suffocating. Your mother swallows, glancing between you and your father, tension crackling in the room.

And then, your father speaks, his voice cold.

“Go to your room, YN.” You raise an eyebrow in defiance. “Now.” His voice is sharp, commanding.

Hongjoong rises to his feet immediately, his stance protective, standing just a few steps behind you. But you don’t move at first, locking eyes with your father, refusing to back down.

The silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment, before, without another word, you grab Hongjoong’s hand. Together, you leave the dining room, the weight of the situation settling around you.

Once you step into the hallway, Hongjoong gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice quiet.

“YN…”

You shake your head, cutting him off “Not now.”

You make your way to your bedroom, and once inside, you immediately release his hand.

You walk straight to your vanity, placing the folder with the DNA test results and photos down onto the surface with precise movements, the sound of the paper rustling loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Your fingers grip the edges of the folder, your nails digging into the expensive paper as your mind races. The frustration is building up inside you, but you force yourself to breathe through it.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, the door clicking shut behind him. He stays silent for a moment, giving you space to process. He knows you need it.

Finally, he speaks softly, his voice filled with concern “Are you okay?”

You exhale sharply, turning to face him “I told you they’d cover it up,” You murmur, your voice quiet and bitter.

He steps closer, his eyes searching your face for any hint of vulnerability “Yeah... but you were still hoping, weren’t you?”

Your lips press into a thin line. Damn him for knowing you so well. You look away, arms crossed, leaning against the vanity as frustration bubbles up in you.

“I just wanted them to see him for what he really is,” You admit quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “To finally see that he’s not perfect.”

Hongjoong moves between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs.

“They’re too deep in their delusions, pretty. You can’t change them overnight.”

You exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

“Then I’ll make them see it,” You say, a fierce determination in your voice.

His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze narrowing as he looks at you.

“How?”

“I’ll bring Lily tomorrow.” You shrug, as if the plan is simple, innocent.

He frowns, his brow furrowing “Wait—what? I don't think Hannah will agree to that.”

You look at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe not, but this might pressure them into acknowledging her. They know she exists now, and there’s no reason to hide her anymore. I’ll tell them I want to spend time with her, show her the house. It's innocent.”

Hongjoong scoffs, a teasing glint in his eyes “Pretty, you and ‘innocent’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”

You grin, giving him a wink “Okay, maybe not. But still, it’s a good plan. They’ll have to deal with it when she’s right there in front of them.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, the lines of concern still etched on his face.

“And what if they freak out?”

“They won’t. They might struggle with it, but they won’t just throw her out. She’s their granddaughter, whether they like it or not.”

He studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. He shakes his head with a soft laugh.

“You’re scary when you plot, you know that?”

You smile slyly, cupping his cheek “I know. So... are you in?”

He sighs dramatically, though there’s no hiding the affection in his eyes.

“Like I have a choice.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him lightly “Nope. You don’t.”

With that, Hongjoong presses his lips to yours in a deep kiss, sealing the deal for the next move.

And just like that, the plan is set.

✮ ⋆

The hallway outside the dining room is dimly lit, the hushed murmur of voices bleeding through the heavy oak doors.

Dann stands just beyond the threshold, fingers curling around the strap of her bag. She hadn’t meant to stop. Hadn’t meant to listen.

But your voice—sharp, angry—had frozen her in place.

“You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

“It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Dann’s breath catches. Her fingers twitch.

“Well, since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Dann’s throat tightens. She’s heard this kind of bitterness from you before, but never like this.

Never so raw.

“It’s about Mike, and his actual legacy.”

His actual legacy? What are you talking about?

She knows you have every reason to be upset. But Mike had warned her—had threatened her. And yet, something in her gut twists. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be listening to this.

She turns to leave, forcing herself to step away, but then—

“Dann!”

She flinches at the sound of her mother’s voice echoing from down the hall.

Shit.

Scrambling, she ducks into a side corridor before hurrying toward the kitchen. Her pulse pounds in her ears, your words still looping in her mind.

You were furious about Mike becoming CEO.

Dann hesitates, fingers hovering over her phone. For a brief moment, she considers doing nothing. She considers keeping this to herself.

But then she remembers Mike’s cold voice in her ear. Her stomach clenches as she finally types out the message.

Dann: YN’s pissed about you becoming CEO. She’s planning something.

She stares at the text, her finger hovering over the send button. A part of her screams Don’t do this. But another part knows…

If she doesn’t, she’ll be the next one to suffer.

Her thumb presses down.

Sent.

Her heart pounds as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket.

And as she heads toward the kitchen, trying to steady her breath, one thought keeps echoing in her mind.

How much longer can I keep doing this?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The gentle hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong parks in front of the grand estate. You glance over your shoulder at Lily, who’s kicking her legs excitedly in her car seat, her wide eyes shining with curiosity.

“Alright, princess. Ready to see where I live?”

It took some convincing to get Hannah on board with bringing Lily along today, but after much persuasion, she finally agreed—though not without a threat.

If anything were to happen to her daughter, she told you, she’d make you wish you never stepped foot near her.

Lily gasps dramatically, clapping her hands “Like a castle?”

Hongjoong snorts “Close enough.”

You smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt before lifting her into your arms “Exactly like a castle. With grumpy old kings and queens inside.”

Hongjoong chuckles but gives you a look “Pretty.”

You just wink at him before turning toward the front doors. As you step inside, the staff immediately notices your little guest.

A few maids exchange surprised glances, but none dare to say anything. Then, your mother’s voice floats from the dining hall.

“YN? Darling, is that you?”

Showtime.

You adjust Lily on your hip and strut into the hall, Hongjoong right beside you. Your mother and father are already seated at the table, sipping tea like they own the world.

But the second they see her, your mother’s teacup stops midair. Your father straightens.

“Mother, Father,” You say with a polite smile, shifting Lily in your arms, “I wanted to introduce you to someone properly.”

Lily, bless her little heart, waves excitedly “Hi, I’m Lily!”

Your mother blinks “Oh… oh my.”

Your father’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets, watching carefully.

“Since you know about her now, I figured there’s no need to keep her hidden,” You continue smoothly, placing Lily down so she can run toward the grand windows. “She’s family, after all.”

The air in the room is suffocating.

Your mother glances at your father “Well, I—” She stops when Lily gasps.

“This place is so big!” The little girl spins in excitement, her curls bouncing. “I wanna see all of it!”

Your mother’s lips part, struggling, fighting every instinct she has. She glances at your father again, who is rubbing his temple.

Hongjoong nudges you slightly, whispering, “Your dad looks like he’s about to explode.”

You grin “I know.”

Your mother clears her throat, standing up “Lily, dear, would you like something to drink?”

Lily beams “Do you have chocolate milk?”

Your mother hesitates, then nods slowly “Yes… of course.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong.

Oh, this is too good.

Meanwhile, your father finally speaks, his voice even “And how long do you plan to keep her here, YN?”

You feign innocence “Just for a few hours. She should get to know where her family comes from.”

Your father sighs, rubbing his temple again. He looks like he wants to object—but what can he say? Get that child out of my house? Even he knows that would make him look bad.

And that’s when you realize—your parents are nervous. They don’t want to acknowledge her. They don’t want to accept her.

But ignoring her is impossible.

And the best part?

Mike still has no idea.

Your father exhales sharply, sitting up straighter. His voice drops into something colder, firmer.

“Darling, listen carefully.” His gaze is heavy, commanding. “Your brother will be back tomorrow.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He can not see this girl here.”

You let out a dry laugh “Why not? it's his daughter.”

Your mother nods, forcing a smile “Yes, sweetheart. But it's illegitimate.”

Your father’s expression hardens “That means you will not, under any circumstances, mention the girl’s existence.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

Lily, still holding her glass of chocolate milk, glances up at her grandmother with wide, innocent eyes. Then, in the softest voice, she speaks.

“Daddy don’t want to meet me?” Her small voice cracks slightly as she pouts, her lip trembling.

She sets the glass down and looks at them, her eyes filling with tears as she struggles to understand why the adults are acting this way. The sadness in her expression is enough to make your heart ache.

The room grows painfully quiet. You see the subtle shift in your parents’ expressions as they look at the little girl, her innocence making it harder for them to keep up their cold act.

Lily sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and then in the sweetest, most trusting voice, she adds,

“Mommy told me that daddy loves me and when he is done with work, he will meet me.”

She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world—her childlike belief in her father’s love and promise, pure and untainted by the complicated mess of adult affairs.

You feel your throat tighten as you watch Lily, and even your parents are visibly affected.

Your mother’s hand shakes slightly as she reaches for Lily, pulling her onto her lap. Her expression softens, the guilt creeping in despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.

Your father glances at your mother, his face softening just a fraction. He lets out a small sigh, clearly conflicted, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he picks up his glass, taking a long sip, as if the weight of the situation is too much to bear.

Lily’s innocent words seem to hit them harder than any argument could. And you realize—this is the beginning of something.

They can’t ignore her forever.

You lean forward, your voice still calm but filled with a subtle bite “You see, she’s not going anywhere. She’s part of the family now, whether you like it or not.”

Lily, oblivious to the tension, smiles softly and rests her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. Your mother brushes a strand of hair out of her face, and for a moment, you almost see the warmth return to her eyes.

“Let’s not pretend that we can’t move forward from this,” You add, watching them both. “She’s a part of me, and if you can’t see that, then you’re not seeing the full picture.”

Your father finally speaks, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant “We’ll see how things go.” His words are far from a promise, but it’s a crack in the facade.

A small step toward accepting the truth.

Hongjoong gently nudges your arm, his quiet support standing strong behind you.

And then, for a brief, fleeting moment, you think they might actually listen.

✮ ⋆

The afternoon stretches lazily as you, Hongjoong, and Lily spend time in the vast garden outside. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the manicured lawns.

Birds chirp in the distance, and the sound of laughter and lighthearted chatter fills the air as you chase after Lily, who runs ahead, giggling uncontrollably.

Hongjoong stays close, holding Lily’s hand as she spins in circles, occasionally darting away to pick flowers or make up little games.

The innocence of the moment is enough to make your heart swell, and Hongjoong’s quiet smiles as he watches you with Lily are more than enough to reassure you that, despite the turmoil, this is where she belongs.

From the large windows of the dining room, your parents observe the scene in silence.

The head of the family's stern gaze never falters, his arms crossed over his chest, watching as you play with the child he doesn't want to acknowledge.

His mouth is set in a firm line, and it’s clear he hasn’t warmed to the idea of Mike’s hidden life.

“I still don’t like this,” He mutters under his breath. “It’s not just about her being his daughter. It’s about the family’s reputation. Michael has always been the heir. This… this doesn’t fit the image.”

His wife, standing beside him, watches you through the glass. Her eyes soften as she takes in the sight of her daughter and granddaughter together.

For a moment, she allows herself to feel something, something unspoken. Joy, maybe, or hope—an inkling that, perhaps, this child could be a part of their family, even if it’s only in the most private corners.

“I know you’re worried, but… she’s so sweet.” Her voice trembles slightly, her tone tender as she continues to watch. “I can’t deny it. She’s so innocent, and she deserves a chance. She’s part of Mike’s blood, after all.”

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. He cannot bring himself to fully accept what is happening, nor can he allow his daughter to be wrapped up in the emotional complexity of it all.

He’s a man of principle, of tradition, and this is not how things should be. His position, his legacy—everything he’s worked for—depends on his son, upholding the family name.

“Mike can’t just do what he wants,” He grumbles, still staring out at the garden. “He’s the heir. We’ve worked our entire lives to protect this family’s name, and this—this child complicates things. She could ruin everything.”

The woman hesitates “But… she’s still part of our family, Richard. You can see it in her face. She’s… she’s so much like Mike. She deserves a place in this family.”

“But she can’t just be ‘part of the family’ because we feel sorry for her.” His voice grows firm again. “Family’s future depends on him. He is our heir. If this news gets out… it could destroy everything. We need to be careful.”

Catherine sighs softly, the weight of the decision pressing on her. She knows what he says is true. Mike’s position in the family, the business—everything depends on how they handle this situation.

She can’t just throw it all away for a child born from a mistake. But deep down, she feels a pang of sympathy for the little girl, and a part of her can’t help but want to open her heart.

“I just wish Mike would have been honest with us from the beginning,” She says softly, looking back out at the garden where you, Hongjoong, and Lily continue to play. “This could have been different… maybe we could have made it work.”

Her husband grunts, not bothering to respond. The thoughts swirling in his head are far more complex than he lets on. He’s still angry, still resolute in his belief that the family must maintain its perfect image.

But as he watches you laugh with the child, something shifts.

Just a little.

Catherine places a gentle hand on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t forget… we have to think about what’s best for the family. For all of us.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but his gaze softens for a moment as he watches his daughter interact with Lily.

The love, the connection—it’s undeniable.

It’s not just about legacy anymore; it’s about family. And maybe, just maybe, he can find it in himself to accept this little girl.

✮ ⋆

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden as the evening winds start to cool.

Lily’s little hands are clinging to your leg as you stand in the doorway, ready to leave.

She’s grown comfortable in the short time she’s spent here, her big eyes filled with innocence and wonder as she looks up at your parents.

“Lily, we’re going to head out now,” You say softly, crouching down to her level as you adjust her little jacket.

The weight of the evening’s tension still hangs in the air, but moments like this make it all seem worth it. Her eyes flicker to her grandparents, and then she looks back at you with that wide-eyed curiosity.

Your mother stands nearby, a little hesitant, but a soft smile curves on her lips as she watches the little girl.

“Goodbye, Lily” She says, her voice surprisingly gentle as she kneels in front of her. “Come here and give Grandma a hug.”

Lily blinks up at her and hesitates for just a second before her tiny arms stretch out.

“Bye, Grandma,” She says sweetly, throwing her arms around your mother’s neck in a warm embrace.

Your mother’s eyes soften even more, her heart swelling with tenderness “Goodbye, my dear. Come see us again soon, okay?” She says softly, her voice catching slightly.

“Okay!” Lily chirps, pulling back and giving her a big smile, her tiny hands clutching the edges of her jacket.

You feel your heart tug as you watch the two of them, the love in your mother’s eyes undeniable. You can’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you see how easy it is for Lily to wrap your mother around her finger.

Turning to your father, Lily trots over to him, her little legs moving quickly as she approaches him hesitantly.

“Goodbye, Grandpa,” She says shyly, her voice almost a whisper.

Your father’s stern expression softens for just a moment as he bends down to her level, offering a hand to her.

“Goodbye, little one,” He replies, his voice rough but kind as he gently pats her head. “Take care of yourself.”

Lily gives him a sweet smile, her innocence shining through. She gives him a quick hug, standing on tiptoe to wrap her tiny arms around his neck.

“I’ll miss you!” She says brightly before letting go.

Your heart aches slightly watching the interaction, a little flutter in your chest, as a sense of something new begins to blossom within you.

It’s strange, yet beautiful to see how Lily’s innocence is slowly making its way into their hearts, no matter how reluctant they may have been before.

Hongjoong stands off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a quiet smile. His presence is a steady comfort, and his eyes meet yours as he watches you.

You glance back at him, giving him a soft smile of appreciation for being there, supporting you in all of this.

Lily looks up at you and stretches her arms out wide, grinning “Come on, Auntie YN, let’s go home!”

You laugh softly, picking her up and resting her against your hip “Alright, sweetie, let’s go,” you say with a final wave to your parents. “Bye.”

With one last look to your parents, you turn to Hongjoong and nod for him to follow, holding Lily close.

Your mother and father wave back, their faces filled with that strange, bittersweet mixture of emotions as they watch you leave.

The door closes gently behind you, and as you step outside, the cool evening air wraps around you, the weight of the moment still lingering in your heart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Four years ago.

The hallway outside Mike’s room is dimly lit, the distant hum of the household settling for the night.

You were on your way to your own room when you heard it—the sharp edge of his voice, low but venomous.

“I don’t give a damn what you think, Hannah.”

You pause. Hannah, the maid?

You inch closer, pressing yourself against the cold wall near the doorframe. You can’t see them, but you can hear everything.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” He continues, his tone eerily calm “You’re going to take care of this. Get rid of it.”

A sharp inhale. Then Hannah’s voice, trembling but still defiant.

“Mike, this is your child. You can’t just—”

A loud thud cuts her off, like a hand slamming against the desk. You flinch.

“No, Hannah,” Mike hisses, his voice now sharp as a knife. “I told you to handle it. I don’t care how. But you will not ruin my future over this. Do you understand me?”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Then, softer, but no less cruel, “If you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell. And I’ll make sure that bastard never sees the light of day.”

Your stomach twists. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what’s happening, but your instincts tell you it’s something terrible.

Hannah sniffles “Mike, please…”

He sighs, exasperated, like he’s dealing with an inconvenience rather than a human being.

“You have until tomorrow to figure it out.”

A second later, footsteps approach. You panic, stepping away from the door just as it swings open.

Mike stops short when he sees you standing there. His eyes narrow, calculating.

“What are you doing here?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You glance past him, catching a glimpse of Hannah inside the room—eyes red, shoulders shaking, her hand protectively placed over her stomach.

He steps forward, blocking your view, his voice lowering dangerously “Forget whatever you think you heard.”

You shake your head slightly, confusion and unease knotting inside you.

“What—”

He doesn’t let you finish “Actually,” He murmurs, a slow smirk curling on his lips, “You’re going to help me.”

Your brows furrow “Uh?”

Mike tilts his head “You’re going to tell Mother and Father that Hannah stole from you.”

Your breath catches “She what?”

“You’ll say you saw her sneaking out of your room with your jewelry,” He continues smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world “They’ll believe you.”

“Mike, no…” You whisper, horrified.

He leans in slightly, his presence suffocating “You will.”

You shake your head, stepping back “I won’t do that to her.”

His smirk vanishes in an instant. His hand shoots out, gripping your arm so tightly you wince.

“Yes, you will,” He says darkly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Hannah is dragged out of the estate in tears.

And you watch, sick to your stomach, as your parents believe every word you say.

—

The school gates are buzzing with students leaving for the day, laughter and chatter filling the air. You step outside, slipping your phone into your bag when a soft voice stops you.

"Miss YN."

You blink, turning toward the sound.

And freeze, it's been months since the last time you saw her.

Hannah stands a few feet away, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. But that’s not what sends your heart plummeting to your stomach.

It’s the undeniable swell of her belly beneath her coat.

Your mind goes blank.

She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, glancing around as if making sure no one is watching.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t respond immediately, still trying to process what you’re seeing. Then, your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag, and you nod stiffly.

You lead her toward a quieter area near the entrance, away from the curious eyes of your classmates. The moment you stop walking, you cut straight to the point.

“You’re pregnant.” Your voice is eerily calm.

Hannah exhales, her shoulders sagging slightly “Yes.”

Your stomach churns “Is it—”

“I know Mike is in Germany now,” She interrupts before you can finish the question. “That’s why I came to see you.” She looks up, her expression conflicted. “I’m pregnant, Miss YN. Mike is the father.”

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.

Hannah swallows hard, her voice quieter now, almost fragile “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or the baby.”

It feels like the ground beneath you is cracking, splitting open, revealing something dark and ugly you were never meant to see.

“That’s why he forced me to lie?”

The words slip past your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Hannah hears it.

Her brows furrow “What?”

Your chest tightens painfully “That’s why he made me say you stole from me?” You repeat, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Because he didn’t want to handle his mistake?”

Hannah’s lips part slightly. She looks shaken, her hands trembling.

“Miss YN… you did—”

“I didn’t want to,” You cut in, your throat tightening. “But he gave me no choice.”

A heavy silence stretches between you. Then Hannah speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I never got rid of her.”

Your breath catches.

“What?”

Hannah exhales shakily, one hand instinctively pressing against her belly, as if shielding the life growing inside her.

“I couldn’t do it,” she whispers. Her eyes meet yours—raw, pleading, desperate. “I’m keeping her.”

The world tilts beneath your feet.

Oh, god.

Your throat tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Don’t worry,” You manage, though your voice barely holds steady. “I’ll help you.”

But the second the words leave your lips, reality crashes down like a tidal wave.

You’re only seventeen.

How the hell are you supposed to ask your parents for extra money without raising suspicion? How are you going to keep this a secret from them?

And most importantly…

What will Mike do if he finds out?

A shiver runs down your spine.

He will kill you.

If he ever finds out, he will fucking kill you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @mrskill2 @stayatinykatsy @badbitch69420sworld @lunaryoongie @lover-ofallthingspretty @certifiedmoa @jilxxasu @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @Lemonkait00 @yulsr @justconniez @luvvvash @zaynsfl4m3s @nkryuki @boomzen @hurryupmars @silenttrxxs @blue5ummer @khaskl08 @unbroken-shadows @vnxlla @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @milliesupremexx @xh01bri @a-atiny_niawoo @winterstuf @domfikeluva @lezleeferguson-120 @beabatiny @yothangie @lover-of-fics @mingipessego @posseup @0407files @cheolright @nyx-y @arilevenatz @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @yunhogrippers @itzyejiluv @sannieworshipper @m0onchild-98 @l0vjoongie

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All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

GET UP! LIVIDSTARR JUST UPDATED THE CITY OF LOVE! WE ARE SO BACK!

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Ten: Push and Pull

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 4.6k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ The memory of what happened—or what had almost happened last night, still remained fresh in your mind. As a result, you find yourself on edge as you head to Hongjoong’s agency per Seonghwa’s request, still processing the events that had unfurled. Upon arrival, you notice Hongjoong acting distant, leaving you uneasy. Seonghwa, sensing your discomfort, tries to lighten the mood and catch up, but the tension lingers in your mind as you try to make sense of Hongjoong's sudden change in behavior.

a/n: decided to come back to commemorate ateez’s 6th anniversary 🥳 this chapter’s a bit short but take this as some sort of headstart for what’s about to come! i missed you guys so much

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

The bus rattled along the familiar cobblestone streets of Paris, but your mind was far from the city’s usual charm. Today, the picturesque views outside the window were nothing more than a blur as your thoughts swirled in a mix of anticipation and dread. You sat at the very back, the cool glass of the window pressed against your head as you tried to make sense of the anxious knot in your stomach. Coming to Hongjoong’s agency at Seonghwa’s request, something you usually would’ve been excited about, now felt like a heavy burden. You told yourself it was just another day, another visit to pay.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Over time, things have started to shift between you and Hongjoong—and whatever happened last night was just the nail in the coffin. Even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you could still feel the change in your bones.

Ever since you and Hongjoong had grown closer, there had always been an unspoken connection—a bond that went beyond mere friendship. You’d fallen into a routine of easy familiarity, one that sometimes blurred the lines between what friends typically did. Yet, it had always felt natural, never forced or awkward. But last night was different.

The memory sent a shiver through you as you recalled the way you nearly altered the course of your friendship, had Wooyoung not interrupted the moment. The way he had looked at you like it’s all he’s ever known, the way his breath had hitched as if he had forgotten how to exhale, the way the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you at that very moment... you had felt something shift in that moment, something you weren’t quite ready to confront.

Now, as you sat on the bus, the memory of that moment replayed in your mind, leaving you with a strange mix of longing and confusion. You weren’t sure how you felt about it, or what it meant for your friendship with Hongjoong. Part of you wished he would just forget about it, pretend like it never happened, so you could both go back to the comfortable routine you had established. But another part of you, a quieter, more vulnerable part, wondered what might have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted.

The bus came to a halt, pulling you from your thoughts. This was your stop. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your scattered emotions as you stepped off the bus and onto the pavement. The cool morning air did little to calm your nerves. Each step toward the agency felt heavier than the last, and you found yourself repeating a silent mantra in your head: “Please don’t bring it up. Please don’t bring it up.”

As you entered the building, the familiar cool blast of the air conditioning greeted you, doing little to soothe your anxiety. The agency was bustling with activity as usual, but the usual hustle and bustle felt distant, like background noise that you couldn’t quite focus on. Your thoughts were too preoccupied with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Seonghwa had said he would meet you in the lobby, so you headed there, trying to push aside the nerves that twisted in your gut. You weren’t sure what you were more anxious about—seeing Hongjoong after what had almost happened or having to navigate the conversation with Seonghwa while pretending nothing was wrong.

But when you reached the lobby, your heart skipped a beat. Not only was Seonghwa there, but so was Hongjoong. The two of them were sitting on one of the plush couches, chatting casually. Hongjoong’s phone was in his hand, and he seemed relaxed, completely at ease in a way that made your stomach twist even more. How could he be so calm when you felt like you were about to crash out?

Seonghwa noticed you first, his face breaking into a warm smile as he waved you over. “There you are! I was starting to think you got lost on the way,” he teased lightly. But despite his light-heartedness, you could barely muster a smile in return.

“Sorry, the bus took a little longer than I expected,” you replied, your voice slightly strained as you approached them.

Seonghwa stood to greet you properly, but it was Hongjoong you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. “Morning, Hongjoong,” you said, hoping against hope that he would act normal.

For a moment, he looked up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. But the connection was brief—too brief for your liking, too different from what you’re used to. He nodded curtly, barely holding your gaze for more than a second before looking back down at his phone. “Morning,” he muttered, his tone almost dismissive.

Before you could even process the oddness of his behavior, Hongjoong suddenly stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I have to head out. I’ve got some work I need to finish,” he said abruptly, his voice flat, almost devoid of the usual warmth.

“Oh... okay,” you responded, trying to hide the sting of disappointment that pricked at your heart. Was it because of last night?

Hongjoong barely spared you another glance as he nodded to Seonghwa. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he added before turning on his heel and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the spacious lobby.

You stood there, frozen in place, as you watched him disappear down the hallway with concern etched all over your face.

Seonghwa must have noticed the flicker of confusion and hurt on your face, given how he stepped closer and offered you a gentle smile—one that did little to ease your nerves, but hey, at least he’s trying his best, right?

“Don’t worry about him,” he said softly. “Hongjoong’s always been like that. He gets caught up in his work sometimes.”

But he’s not. You know he’s not like that. At least you think he isn’t—but it’s foolish to try to go against someone who has known him for longer than you have.

So how much do you really know about Hongjoong? Or, better yet—do you even know him at all?

You forced a smile in return, though it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah... maybe,” you murmured, though doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

Seonghwa gestured to the couch where he and Hongjoong had been sitting moments before. “Come on, let’s sit. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up,” he suggested.

Once you and Seonghwa were settled on the couch, you found yourself nervously fidgeting, your hands gripping the fabric of your dark brown skirt as if it were the only thing anchoring you in place. The soft material bunched under your fingers, and you absentmindedly rubbed the texture between your thumb and forefinger. Your feet, however, seemed to have a mind of their own, your boots tapping lightly against the floor in a consistent rhythm.

Seonghwa watched you for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in your unusually tense demeanor. His smile faded slightly, replaced by a gentle concern as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You seem a bit on edge,” he remarked cautiously, his voice careful not to pry too deeply. “Is everything alright? You’re usually not this quiet.”

You blinked, your attention snapping back to him, realizing you’d been lost in your own head. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you said quickly, your voice higher than usual as you tried to dismiss the worry in his eyes. “Just... tired, I guess.”

But the reassurance felt hollow even as you said it, and Seonghwa didn’t look convinced. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to read the truth on your face. You could feel his gaze, heavy with unspoken questions, and you squirmed under the scrutiny, your fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your skirt.

You opened your mouth to say something more, to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable territory it was veering into, but the question slipped out before you could stop it: “Did something happen to Hongjoong before I got here?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted from concern to mild confusion. He straightened up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he replayed the morning in his head. “Hongjoong? No, not that I know of,” he answered, his tone slow as if he were double-checking his memory. “Actually, he was in a pretty good mood when we were talking. Why do you ask?”

“Oh…” The single word fell from your lips like a stone, heavy and sinking into the silence that followed. You looked down, the tapping of your foot coming to an abrupt halt.

So, it really was because of last night—because of you.

The realization sat uneasily in your chest, a mixture of guilt and confusion swirling together. Why was he acting like this? And why couldn’t you shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault?

The change in your demeanor hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Seonghwa couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the sudden shift. “Did something happen between you two that I should know about?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could think twice about it.

For a brief moment, you hesitated, caught between wanting to confide in him and the desire to just keep it all to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Seonghwa—far from it. But how could you possibly explain what had almost transpired between you and Hongjoong last night? How could you put into words the tension, the almost unspoken moment that lingered like a specter in your mind? The way you’d both teetered on the edge of something you weren’t sure either of you were ready for?

You glanced up at Seonghwa, your mouth opening to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it outright—that you and Hongjoong had almost crossed a line that neither of you would have been able to step back from. Instead, you settled on a question of your own, one that seemed to hover over everything like an unspoken truth. “Is Hongjoong usually the… on and off, push and pull type of person?”

Seonghwa considered your question carefully, his expression thoughtful. He leaned back, his gaze drifting as he seemed to search for the right words. “Hongjoong... he’s complex,” Seonghwa began slowly, choosing his words with caution. “He’s not always the easiest to read, and he definitely has his moments where he pulls away. But it’s not always about the other person. Sometimes it’s more about what’s going on in his own head.”

You nodded, processing Seonghwa’s response, but it did little to soothe the unease gnawing at you. The ambiguity of Hongjoong’s actions left you grappling with your own feelings, wondering if the almost-moment had been a step too far—or if, perhaps, it was a step you weren’t meant to take just yet.

You bit your lip, glancing down at your hands. The words you wanted to say lingered at the tip of your tongue, already too heavy for you to push behind. Finally, you exhaled slowly, grappling with your thoughts as you tried to put them into words.

“What if,” you began, “let’s say you and someone, hypothetically, of course—maybe Hongjoong—were on good terms one night, sharing jokes that only the two of you understand, and it feels like, for a moment, you’re really getting somewhere... like you’re finally diving into a deeper level of friendship. But then, the next day, it’s like you’ve done something wrong. Like suddenly, you’re a stranger, or worse, like you’re a problem that needs to be avoided.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed as he listened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your words. A beat passed in silence, his expression shifting from confusion to something more knowing. “You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?” he asked—but you knew denying it would be foolish, because it seems like he already knows the answer and is just waiting for you to confirm his hypothesis.

But of course, it’s still embarrassing to give in right away.

You immediately shook your head, your denial quick and a little too forceful. “No, no,” you stammered, a nervous laugh bubbling up to cover the crack in your composure. “It’s just a hypothetical situation. A... a thought experiment, really. That doesn’t apply to Hongjoong and me—we’re on good terms.”

Even as the words left your mouth, they felt flimsy and false, as insubstantial as smoke. It was a lie—a denial that you hoped would convince not just Seonghwa but also yourself. What a sin it was to lie to yourself, you thought, feeling the sting of your own dishonesty more acutely than you’d expected. But how could you admit the truth when it was still so raw, so undefined even in your own mind?

Seonghwa didn’t look entirely convinced, his eyes lingering on you as though trying to see past the mask you’d hastily thrown on. But after a moment, he nodded, though the crease between his brows remained. “Alright,” he said slowly, granting you the benefit of the doubt, though you could sense the lingering skepticism in his tone. “If it’s just a hypothetical situation...”

He leaned back, crossing his arms as he thought it over, considering your so-called analysis. “Well,” he began thoughtfully, “if someone acts like that, it’s usually because they’re dealing with something internally. It might have nothing to do with you at all. Sometimes people pull away because they’re scared of how close they’re getting, or maybe because they’re battling their own insecurities. It’s not necessarily fair to the other person, but it’s not always about them either. It’s about the person who’s pulling back, struggling with their own feelings or fears. The push and pull, as confusing as it is, isn’t always meant to hurt. Sometimes it’s just... a defense mechanism? That’s what I’d call it.”

He paused, watching you closely, as if gauging your reaction to his words. “But if that person cares,” Seonghwa continued, his voice softening, “they’ll come back around. It might take time, but if they really value the relationship, they’ll find a way to bridge the gap. It’s just... sometimes people need to work through their own stuff before they can fully be there for someone else.”

You nodded along, your mind racing with Seonghwa’s explanation, each word resonating in a way that hit too close to home. Could that be it? Was Hongjoong simply trying to figure out his own feelings, or was there something deeper at play?

After the conversation with Seonghwa, you decide to distract yourself by exploring the agency a bit more. Seonghwa suggests visiting one of the studios, a familiar place where the designers and models are usually busy creating the next big thing. The idea seems harmless enough, and you hope it might help you take your mind off the tangled mess of emotions still buzzing in your head.

As you and Seonghwa walk through the halls, the lively chatter and the click of heels on the polished floors provide a backdrop that usually energizes you. But today, everything feels muted, like you’re watching from behind a glass wall. You can’t shake the lingering sense of discomfort from your earlier encounter with Hongjoong, and as you enter the studio, the atmosphere seems to weigh down on you.

Hongjoong is there, of course—standing by a sketchboard, deep in conversation with another designer. He’s gesturing animatedly, pointing out details on the paper, his passion for his work evident even from a distance. For a moment, you’re content to just observe him, the sight of him in his element stirring a fondness that you can’t quite suppress. But then, as if sensing your presence, he glances up. Your eyes meet, and the world seems to still for a heartbeat.

But instead of acknowledging you, Hongjoong’s expression closes off, and he turns back to his work without so much as a nod. The dismissal stings, sharper than you expected. It’s as if he’s deliberately keeping you at arm’s length, and the casual disregard feels like a slap in the face. Seonghwa, noticing the sudden shift in your demeanor, gives you a questioning look, but you just shrug, feigning indifference.

The designers break for a moment, and Seonghwa waves Hongjoong over. Hongjoong approaches, but his steps are slow, reluctant. When he finally reaches you, he barely spares you a glance. “Hey,” he mumbles, his voice flat and devoid of the warmth you’ve come to expect. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking anywhere but at you.

Seonghwa tries to engage him in conversation, asking about his latest designs and upcoming plans, but Hongjoong’s responses are curt and to the point. The easy camaraderie you’d seen between him and Seonghwa earlier has vanished, replaced by a stilted formality that makes the air feel thick and uncomfortable. You can’t help but feel like an intruder, caught in the middle of a conversation that’s turned cold and impersonal.

When Seonghwa finally asks if Hongjoong has time to catch up, Hongjoong hesitates, his eyes flitting to yours for just a split second before they drop to the floor. His lips press into a thin line, as if he’s considering the implications of staying versus leaving. Finally, he shakes his head. “I can’t right now,” he says, not quite meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. “There’s too much to get done.”

The excuse sounds flimsy even to your own ears, but Seonghwa simply nods, accepting it without questioning his words. You, however, can’t help the sharp pang of disappointment that tugs at your chest. It’s not just the fact that Hongjoong doesn’t want to stay and chat; it’s the way he won’t even look at you, like he’s deliberately avoiding your presence, and it’s almost as if you’re invisible.

“Alright, no worries,” Seonghwa replies with a casual shrug, though you notice the slight crease in his brow—a sign that he’s picked up on the tension, even if he doesn’t fully understand it. He claps Hongjoong on the shoulder, trying to keep the mood light. “We’ll catch up some other time, then.”

Hongjoong nods absently, already half-turned back towards his work. “Yeah, sure,” he mutters, but there’s no conviction behind his words. His eyes flick to the sketches on the wall, and it’s as if the conversation is already forgotten, his focus shifting entirely away from you and Seonghwa. Without another word, he walks back to the sketchboard, resuming his conversation with the other designer as if the brief interaction never happened.

The sting of his indifference leaves you reeling, and you’re not sure whether to feel angry, hurt, or both. It’s as if last night’s near-moment had flipped a switch inside him, and now you’re paying the price for whatever crossed line he thinks was drawn. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to call after him, to demand an explanation, but the words die in your throat. This isn’t the place for that—there’s too much at stake, too many eyes watching.

Seonghwa glances at you, concern flickering in his gaze. “Don’t take it to heart,” he says quietly, as if seeing right through you. “He’s probably just stressed. You know how he gets when he’s in the zone.”

You nod, forcing a tight smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I know,” you reply, but the words feel hollow. Deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that this is more than just stress or a busy schedule. There’s something else at play, something simmering beneath the surface that neither of you can quite grasp.

Seonghwa leads you away from the studio, and you follow in silence, your mind replaying the brief encounter over and over like a broken record. Every glance, every dismissive gesture, every word left unsaid feels like another tiny wound, each one building on the last until they form a gaping chasm between you and Hongjoong that you’re not sure how to bridge.

As you walk, Seonghwa tries to fill the quiet with idle chatter, talking about some of the upcoming projects and the new talent the agency is scouting. You nod along, but your thoughts are miles away—it’s like you’re caught in a loop, circling around the same questions with no clear answers in sight.

Finally, Seonghwa stops in front of a glass door leading to one of the agency’s rooftop lounges. He turns to you, his expression softening as he takes in your distant look. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently. “I mean, really talk about it. I know you said it’s hypothetical, but... it doesn’t feel that way.”

You hesitate, your gaze drifting to the floor. Part of you wants to open up, to spill everything that’s been weighing on your heart, but another part of you holds back, afraid of what admitting the truth might mean. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to handle your own feelings, to keep them neatly tucked away where they can’t cause trouble. But this... this is different.

“I don’t know,” you finally admit, your voice as silent as the wind’s whispers. “I just... I don’t want to make things worse. And I don’t even know what’s going on in his head.”

Seonghwa watches you, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softens into something more empathetic. “Sometimes, you just have to let people work through their own stuff,” he says quietly. “You can’t always fix it, no matter how much you want to. But that doesn’t mean you’re alone in it. If you ever need to talk or just... figure things out, I’m here.”

You nod, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now. The comfort of knowing that at least someone understands, even if only a little, helps to ease the tightness in your chest.

Seonghwa gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to push open the door, letting the cool breeze from the rooftop wash over you both. You follow him out, letting the fresh air clear your mind, even if just for a moment. It’s a brief reprieve from the tangled mess of your thoughts, but it’s one you’re grateful for.

Sitting down on one of the chairs, you let out a sigh, fingers nervously tracing patterns on the hem of your skirt as your thoughts spiral. Seonghwa watches you quietly, giving you the space to process, but his curiosity is palpable. He waits, his presence a silent invitation for you to unload whatever has you troubled.

“I don’t even know why I’m looking too deeply into it—and that’s what’s bothering me the most,” you murmur, your voice so soft it almost gets lost in the quiet hum of the lobby. It feels like you’re confessing a secret, something fragile that might shatter if spoken too loudly. And maybe, in a way, you are.

Seonghwa furrows his brow, leaning in slightly as if to catch your words more clearly. “Why? What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

You hesitate, your gaze flitting from the floor to Seonghwa’s face before dropping back down, as if even his gaze is too much to bear right now. “Don’t you... don’t you think so, too?” you ask, your tone laced with uncertainty, like you’re searching for validation but already dreading the answer.

Seonghwa tilts his head, still looking lost. “Not at all... why do you feel like you’re overthinking it way too much?”

“Well, for starters, we’re friends,” you begin, your words spilling out in a rush. You’re so caught up in your own explanation that you miss the flicker of amusement that dances in Seonghwa’s eyes, the way his lips twitch upward as if he’s holding back a knowing smile.

“Right… friends.” Seonghwa nods along, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression. “And?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like... well, I feel like I’m being a terrible friend by overthinking his need for personal space. Screw that—can I even call myself a friend of his if I don’t know how to respect the fact that he needs time to work through his own stuff?” You pause, your frustration bubbling to the surface as you try to articulate your emotions. “Me, personally, I’d feel off if I’m just having a bad day and a friend of mine decides to make it about them by asking, ‘Are you mad at me?’ But like, I just...”

Your words trail off, the rest of your thoughts jumbled and disjointed in your mind. You glance at Seonghwa, waiting for some sort of reaction, half-expecting him to agree that you’re being ridiculous, that you’re blowing things out of proportion. Instead, he gives you a sympathetic smile, his eyes warm with understanding.

“Listen,” Seonghwa starts, leaning back against the chair across you, adopting a more relaxed posture as if to put you at ease. “I get where you’re coming from. It’s easy to feel like you’re overstepping when you care about someone and you’re not sure how to navigate their boundaries. But you know what? Friendship—if that’s still what you wanna call whatever’s going on between you and Hongjoong—isn’t about getting it right all the time. It’s about being there, even when you’re not sure if you’re doing it perfectly.”

You let his words sink in, but the doubt still lingers at the edges of your mind. “But what if I am overstepping?” you press, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice. “What if he needs space and I’m just making things worse by worrying about it?”

Seonghwa chuckles softly, his laughter a gentle, reassuring sound. “You’re human, you know that, right? Not some perfect robot programmed to always know the right thing to do. Besides,” he adds with a playful smirk, “I’ve seen the way you and Hongjoong look at each other. I think he’d forgive you for overthinking a little.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your cheeks at the implication behind Seonghwa’s words. “What—what’s that supposed to mean?” you stammer, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “There’s nothing like that between us. We’re just…”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, a mischievous expression forming on his face as he watches you wave him off. “Right, friends. Just friends who get all worked up when the other one’s being moody,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “Come on, you’re acting like Hongjoong’s the only one with feelings here.”

You groan, feeling your face flush. “Don’t say that!” you protest, covering your face with your hands, wishing you could somehow hide from the embarrassment. “It’s not like that. I just—he’s important to me, okay? And I don’t like not knowing where I stand.”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Seonghwa chuckles, though his eyes soften with understanding. “Look, maybe he’s just having one of those days. You know how Hongjoong is—sometimes he gets in his head and needs a little space to sort through his thoughts. But that doesn’t mean he’s upset with you, or that you’ve done something wrong.”

You exhale slowly, letting Seonghwa’s words wash over you. He’s right, of course. Hongjoong has always been the type to retreat inward when things get overwhelming, and you know that better than most. But knowing it and accepting it are two different things, and it’s hard not to let your own insecurities creep in when faced with his sudden distance.

Seonghwa reaches over, giving your knee a reassuring pat. “Hey, you’re doing your best. And if you ever need to talk, or if you just need to be distracted from it all, you know I’m here for you.”

You smile, though it’s small and a bit shaky. “Thanks, Seonghwa,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grins, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Well, for starters, you’d probably be even more of a mess than you are now,” he jokes, earning a light punch to the arm from you. But then his expression softens again, sincerity shining through. “Seriously, though. You’re not alone in this. And whatever happens with Hongjoong, you’ll figure it out.”

Hopefully.

🪞 — lividstar.

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘕𝘪𝘯𝘦 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 7 nurses, 2 patients - @thenewblackcanvas poly!ot8 x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ateez As Villains - @sorryimananti-romantic ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 Ateez Members Reaction To Reader Asking To Put A Bow On It - @beenbaanbuun ot8 x reader (texts) 𓆞 𓆞 Dinner And Show - @potatomountain matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hate you! Love you! [Part One] [Part Two] - @eighttens poly!woosan x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Dispensable - @tinybeetiny mafia!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Forbidden Lessons - @atzaurora teacher!hongjoong x student!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Let Them Look - @dancinglikebutterflywings idol!hongjoong x photographer!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Love After Hours: Takeout & Tenderness - @ssweetreveries idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Killa - @koyagifs mafia!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Baby - @last-words-ofashootingstar yandere!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cockwarming - @desirehorizon bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Coffee Shop - @youngies-bae bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Premeditated - @acupoftaewithsomesuga stalker!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Tear You Apart - @riboism mob boss!seonghwa x ballerina!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Antithesis - @kitten4sannie bf!peter parker/venom!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ash - @seongwars pyromaniac!yunho x slasher!reader 𓆞 𓆞 Cervix Kisses - @iannmin bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Now - @xuchiya mafia!yunho x partner!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Second Chances - @lilacmingi best friend!yunho x reader ft.mingi (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 “Forever” Is Comprised Of “Now’s” - @sleep-drunk-kitten barista!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Beyond Our Realm - @atzloverr fallen angel!yandere!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Make It Bouncy - @elllisaaa idol!yeosang x manager!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 More Than Cuddles - @everyonewooeverywhere bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Soft Spot - @mingoooossii bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Cuddle Her Better - @defnotririi bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Italian Escapades - @/milkandhwaney husband!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Mountains Need Hugs Too - @skrrts non-idol!san x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ups And Downs - @mybelovedwoo bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Zoo Outing - @littleocean-rose hybrid!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Bound In Obsidian - @moonisang demon!mingi x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Cornflower Blue - @last-words-ofashootingstar outlaw!yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 God Of War - @atiny-desire god of war!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 In Every Shape - @domm1etae bf!idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Kiss Me - @seobinghard roommate!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 7:10 AM - @dancinglikebutterflywings dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Being The Photographer At Bf!Wooyoung GQ Shoot - @yeosanitycheck bf!wooyoung x photographer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Daycare - @sweetiesicheng best friend!wooyoung x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Genie In A Bottle - @koyagifs non-idol!wooyoung x genie!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Just Trust Me - @wwooyology fox hybrid!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Bunny Card Never Declines - @shixcherie idol!jongho x shapeshifter bunny!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Halloween - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Late Nights - @sweetiesicheng bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸𓈒 𓏸 Pictures - @tinybeetiny bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸  𓈒𓏸 Say Yes To The Christmas Tree - @snwusberry bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

i’m gonna crash out we need to end dann and mike i’m serious i’m going to throw a car at them or something, reader, hongjoong, get behind me

I’m not ready for the next chapter i can’t i need reader to be happy and i need them to be with hongjoong oh I’m sick

great chapter, I can’t wait for the next one <3

Popular, Boy

☆07: The first breakdown

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, angst, drama, dark academic, love triangle

wc: 9,8k

Summary: Humillation and disappointment from others always leave you more isolated than ever. The tension grows and unresolved emotions linger.

But unexpected plans could change everything in your little world.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, manipulation, just Mike being a bastard.

Note: This chapter has important info that will develop in the next chapter, just want to say that next chapter is more spicy than aespa's song!!!

Series masterlist

☆06 ☆08: The first lie

The grandeur of the Clarke Mansion is still evident in the moments before they leave. The staff bustle around, making sure every detail is in place, as you, your family, and Dann prepare to depart for the lavish event at the Ritz.

The golden light of the chandelier in the hallway spills out into the driveway as the sleek black cars pull up, their engines purring softly in the night air. The elegance of the mansion stands in stark contrast to the wild, pulsing energy of the celebration awaiting them—a night meant to showcase Mike’s latest achievement.

You walk down the grand staircase, a vision in your red dress. As you descend, every step is deliberate, measured, meant to captivate.

Your parents, who were already waiting near the entrance, can’t help but pause in admiration at the sight of their daughter.

But you are too preoccupied with the swirling thoughts in your head to fully bask in their praise. Your brother's harsh words still echo in your ears, but you've done everything you can to mask the weight of them.

Tonight, you need to be untouchable.

Your father approaches you, voice full of pride.

“You look stunning, darling. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

“And you better make sure they don’t, sweetie.” Your mother in an elegant black dress says brushing a strand of your hair.

You force a smile, though your gaze flicks to Mike standing near the door. You know he’s already prepared for what he perceives as your inevitable fall tonight.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Maybe you should focus on not embarrassing yourself, YN. There’s no room for mistakes tonight.” He smirks.

You feel your pulse quicken, the familiar sting of his condescending tone cutting through you like a knife. But you don't respond. Not tonight. you've already made up your mind—you will be perfect, no matter what he says.

Dann, standing quietly in the background, watches everything unfold with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She can feel the heat radiating off you, and for the first time, she’s not sure if she envies you or resents you.

Still, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to get swept up in the endless cycle of praise and punishment that seems to define your world. As the last person to make their way out the door, Dann glances at her mother, who gives her a sweet smile, waving her goodbye.

When the cars finally pull up to the Ritz, the atmosphere shifts entirely. The event is already in full swing, lights glittering, the hum of conversation and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. The building itself looks like a monument to luxury—tall, majestic, with every surface reflecting the opulence that the Clarke family holds dear.

Inside the car, your family sits in quiet anticipation. Your parents speak in hushed tones, planning their approach to tonight’s gathering, while Mike remains distant, his eyes fixed on the glowing windows of the Ritz.

As the car doors open, the flood of sounds from the celebration pours in—cascading music, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of life beyond the door.

You step out first, followed by Mike, parents, and Dann. They make their way up the steps to the grand entrance, where the doormen usher them in with professional smiles. Inside, everything is extravagant—gleaming chandeliers, velvet drapes, and golden accents everywhere.

It feels like a different world entirely.

You adjust your posture, and for a moment, you feel the weight of all eyes on you. This is your world, a place where you can thrive, even with Mike’s shadow looming over you.

As you step into the grand ballroom, the scent of roses and expensive perfume mixes with the faint aroma of hors d'oeuvres being passed around on silver trays.

The room is alive with conversation and laughter, the hum of wealth and power weaving through the air. You’re used to this—this is where you belong, where you’ve always shone. You adjust your dress, a subtle yet powerful statement of the season’s trends, and scan the room.

Your friends spot you almost immediately, their polished appearances as perfect as always. They weave through the crowd with ease, their heels clicking against the marble floor as they make their way toward you.

“Babe!” Mindy exclaims, her eyes sparkling “You look stunning, as always.”

“Of course she does,” Samantha chimes in with a sly grin “What else is new?”

You smile, a perfect blend of warmth and confidence “It’s all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”

Mindy’s gaze shifts past you, her brows arching in curiosity “Wait a second… Is that Dann?”

All turn, spotting Dann lingering awkwardly near one of the side tables. She’s holding a glass of sparkling water like it’s a lifeline, her lavender gown catching the light in a way that draws just enough attention.

“Oh my God, it is her. What’s she doing here?”

You shrug with a practiced air of indifference “Mother invited her. You know how she gets—always so kind and generous. She thought it would be nice to show some appreciation for Dann helping around the house.”

Mindy’s lips press into a thin line, and the others barely hide a snicker “Kind of her,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm “But seriously, babygirl, what were you thinking, letting her wear a dress from a collection from years ago? She looks ridiculous.”

You feign innocence, a soft laugh escaping your lips “Who am I to deny her a chance to feel special?”

Sam smirks “You’re a saint, baby. Truly. She really sticks out, doesn’t she? Like she doesn’t belong here.”

“That’s not my problem,” You reply smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of your hair “Mother wanted her here, and I’m doing my part. Whether or not she fits in is up to her.”

You glance across the room, your eyes narrowing as they settle on Seonghwa. He’s standing with his family, dressed impeccably as always, his confident smile lighting up the space around him.

For a brief moment, your polished demeanor falters. There’s a lot unsaid between the two of you—more than anyone in this room could ever guess.

After Wooyoung’s last party you haven't talked.

“Shall we mingle?” Someone asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Of course,” You reply, slipping your arm through Mindy’s “Let’s remind everyone who really runs this town.”

As you move through the crowd, your presence commanding attention as always, you can feel the weight of the evening settling in.

Tonight isn’t just about appearances—it’s about control, power, and making sure everyone, including Mike and Dann, knows exactly where they stand.

✮ ⋆

As the evening progresses, the hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, but Dann lingers near the edges of the room, keeping to herself. Her glass of sparkling water trembles slightly in her hand as she tries to blend into the background.

The soft lavender gown you gave her feels alien on her body, and she’s keenly aware of every glance sent her way.

What she doesn’t realize is that many of those glances are judgmental, the dress silently announcing her as out of place.

It doesn’t take long for Mindy and the other girls to leave you with your parents and notice Dann standing awkwardly by the refreshments table. They exchange a quick look, their eyes gleaming with amusement, and saunter over, their movements purposeful and predatory.

“Dann? Oh my god, hi.” Mindy says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Dann startles slightly but nods, trying to smile “Um, hi.”

Samantha tilts her head, feigning curiosity “That’s such a… unique dress you’re wearing. Where did you find it? A vintage shop?”

Dann’s cheeks burn, but she forces herself to meet their gaze.

“Actually, YN gave it to me. She thought it would be appropriate for tonight.”

Their smiles widen, eyes sparkling with malicious delight.

“Oh, our babygirl always so generous. Did YN let you borrow it from her last season’s wardrobe? Or was she just trying to make you look like a charity case?"

"I mean, you must feel so lucky to be here with all these important people in such a... dated dress."

“Very retro, not something anyone else here could pull off, but good for you for trying.”

Dann’s grip tightens around her glass, her stomach twisting. She knows they’re mocking her, but she refuses to let them see her falter.

“Thank you,” She says evenly “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Mindy arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the response, but Sam isn’t done yet.

“It’s just so sweet of YN to give you something she wouldn’t wear anymore. Such a generous friend, don’t you think?”

Before Dann can respond, Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade.

“Ladies, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He appears at Dann’s side, his presence commanding, and tone light but with an edge that makes your friends instantly fall silent.

“Hwa,” Mindy says with a wide smile “We were just admiring YN’s generosity in lending Dann one of her dresses. So thoughtful of her.”

Seonghwa’s lips curve into a polite but icy smile “Of course,” He turns to Dann, his expression unreadable “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Dann hesitates, but nods “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” His eyes flick to your friends, his smile never wavering “If you’ll excuse us, I promised to introduce Dann to some of my friends.”

All the girls exchange glances but step aside.

“Sure, have fun.”

Seonghwa grabs Dann’s arm and leads her away, his steps measured and graceful. Once they’re out of earshot, he leans in slightly, his voice low enough that only Dann can hear.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just bored.”

Dann glances at him, unsure whether to trust the sudden kindness.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Once they’re seated with a drink in hand, Hwa turns to Dann, his expression serious.

"So, how’s everything going with Mike? What’s the plan for tonight?"

Dann glances around nervously, making sure no one is listening.

"Mike told me to tell Hongjoong a fake address so that he wouldn’t come tonight... he wanted YN to be left alone, humiliated. He said he was going to make sure she felt small in front of everyone during his speech."

Seonghwa nods, pleased with the progress of the plan, but there’s a certain coldness in his smile.

"And you’re sure he’ll follow through? Mike doesn’t usually miss a chance to put YN in her place."

Dann sighs, her hands trembling slightly as she grips her glass.

"I don’t know if I can keep doing this... but he’s promised that tonight, it’ll all come together. YN will feel what it’s like to be cast aside."

Seonghwa watches her for a moment, assessing, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own drink.

"Good. Just remember, if you want to be part of this, you have to follow through. All of us are in this together now."

Dann nods, but the weight of her actions starts to sink in. She knows she’s in too deep to back out now, and yet the guilt gnaws at her.

As Seonghwa continues to chat with her about their plans, she can’t shake the uneasy feeling that the lines between revenge and her own humanity are beginning to blur.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his expression thoughtful as he glanced at his reflection. The evening was meant to be a special one—an elegant celebration at the Ritz, an event where he would finally step into the world you navigate so effortlessly.

But something didn’t feel right. Why did your family decide to change the venue so suddenly?

Confused but trusting, Hongjoong went along with the information, believing it was just a miscommunication. He got ready, dressed in the suit you bought him, ready to experience a world beyond his usual scope.

But as he drove, the city fell behind him, the roads winding into quiet, unfamiliar countryside. There was no Ritz, just a few ordinary homes and farmland stretching into the distance.

Panic started to settle in his chest as his phone buzzed, showing no signal. He tried calling you, Dann, and even Wooyoung, but no calls went through.

The further he drove, the more he realized Dann had played a cruel trick—luring him away, leaving him isolated and alone.

Anger surged through him as he realized the intent. Dann had deliberately ensured he wouldn’t make it to the party, making you feel abandoned, unsure, and hurt.

His fists clenched around the steering wheel, frustration boiling to the surface. He needed to get to you, to make sure you knew it wasn’t his choice to stay away.

Desperate, he took a U-turn, his tires screeching slightly on the gravel as he headed back toward the city.

The night was dark, and the streets were eerily quiet as he raced toward the first address you had given him.

✮ ⋆

The party was in full swing, and you had slipped into your role effortlessly. Your laughter echoed through the room as you sipped champagne, your friends and guests hanging on your every word.

Mindy, Sam, Wooyoung, and a few others surrounded you, chatting about the latest gossip in the city, and the music played softly in the background, setting a festive mood.

You looked around the grand ballroom, admiring the luxurious décor, the chandeliers that sparkled overhead, and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.

It was everything you had grown accustomed to—the perfect night of glamour, elegance, and being the center of attention.

But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. It was as though something was missing, and that something was Hongjoong.

You glance at your phone again, noting that the time is slipping away, and Hongjoong still hasn't arrived. The champagne, which had initially made you feel warm and confident, now seemed to weigh on you, making you restless.

“Where is little Hongjoong, babydoll?” Wooyoung asks you.

“Don't know, he should be here by now.”

“Maybe he doesn't know how to get here.”

“Maybe, let me call him.” You excused yourself from the group and wandered toward a quieter corner.

Your heels click softly on the marble floor. You unlock your phone and send a quick text to Joong.

YN♡: Joong, are you coming? It’s getting late.

You bite your lip, anxiously staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. But the familiar bubble showing that he is typing never appeared.

Frowning, you call him next, holding the phone to your ear as the ringing tone echoed in your eardrum. But when the call goes straight to voicemail, your anxiety deepens.

Where is he?

You make sure to include him in this world you live in, and now, you are starting to doubt if he’d actually show up.

There had been no signs of trouble earlier, but now the silence from Hongjoong’s end is unsettling.

You pace slowly, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it's hard to ignore the tightness in your chest. You know you shouldn’t be worried—he might be caught up in traffic, or maybe something had come up—but deep down, a quiet voice is telling you it isn't that simple.

You text him again, hoping for any kind of response.

YN♡: Kim Hongjoong. Where are you?

Nothing.

The seconds stretch into what feels like minutes, and your stomach twists. You don’t like this feeling.

You don’t like being uncertain.

You don’t like being let down.

You return to the party but find yourself unable to focus on the conversations around you. Your gaze flickers back to your phone as the minutes tick by. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Hongjoong.

What is keeping him? Is he really on his way? Or has something happened?

You take a long sip of your champagne, trying to shake the unease, but it lingers.

You just wanted him here, wanted to be with him.

You force yourself to rejoin the party, plastering on a faint smile as you move through the crowd. Mindy and Wooyoung are still chatting nearby, but their laughter feels muffled, distant.

The sparkle of the chandeliers seems dimmer now, the glamour of the evening dulled by the absence of the one person you were hoping to share it with.

“Sweetie, there you are,” Your mother’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. “Mike’s about to give his speech. Come, stand near the front.”

You nod, following her to the center of the ballroom, where Mike is standing on a small stage. The guests quiet down as he takes the microphone, his charismatic smile commanding attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, his voice smooth and confident “First, thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to me to celebrate this milestone with my family and our closest friends. As most of you know, I’ve recently been entrusted with a significant position in our family business, and I am honored to take on this responsibility.”

The crowd applauds, a few cheers breaking out. Mike raises a hand, his grin widening.

“I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for the opportunity to step into this role and carry the legacy of the Clarke family forward. My parents have worked tirelessly to get me here, and I will do everything in my power to uphold the values of this company. It’s an honor to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather.”

A round of applause erupted, and you force a smile, applauding with the crowd, even though a sense of dread fills your chest.

You can already feel where this is going.

“But before I move forward,” He continues, his voice gaining an edge of sarcasm “I have to acknowledge someone who’s always been there for me, even if she doesn’t always realize how much of a burden she’s been.”

His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the entire room seems to pause.

Your heart skips a beat. You try to keep your composure, but there is an unsettling feeling settling deep in your stomach.

You force yourself to stand tall, but the quiet murmur of the crowd around you makes you feel exposed, like a target under a spotlight.

“As my sister, YN has been… well, how should I say this… a distraction,” Mike says, his voice dripping with mock affection “She’s been more focused on parties and… friendships than actual responsibility. And I think it’s time she learns that life isn’t all about being the center of attention.”

You feel your cheeks burn, the words piercing through you like ice. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you, the weight of their silent judgment. You try to maintain your composure, but the sting of Mike’s words make you feel small.

Like you don’t belong here.

Like you are nothing more than a plaything in the shadow of your perfect, golden brother.

Mike’s gaze never wavers from yours as he delivers the final blow.

“Maybe one day, she’ll realize that success isn’t about what you can get from people, but about what you can give back. I can only hope that she grows up soon enough.”

A few uncomfortable chuckles rip through the crowd, and your chest tightens. The blood rushes to your ears, and for a brief moment, you feel like you can’t breathe.

You look around, trying to find someone’s gaze—anyone who might offer you some comfort—but they all seem to look away, as if they have already accepted Mike’s harsh truth.

Your father is smiling, nodding as if it’s all just a joke. Your mother is watching you with a mixture of concern and hurt.

But you feel entirely alone.

The crowd clap hesitantly, you manage to give a tight smile, though it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

You stand still, trying not to let the tears welling in your eyes break free.

You have no idea where Hongjoong is—if he is even coming—but right now, you need him more than ever.

You need someone who sees you for who you truly are, not the image that Mike and everyone else had constructed for you.

“Excuse me,” You murmur to no one in particular, slipping away from the crowd.

✮ ⋆

The party had begun to mellow out after Mike’s speech, the guests turning their attention to the endless flow of wine and hors d’oeuvres. In one of the quieter corners of the room, Dann sat alone, her champagne glass untouched on the small table before her.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, her eyes flickering toward the laughter and conversation swirling around her.

Mike, ever the picture of confidence, approached her with a sly grin, his glass of scotch in hand.

“Well, Dann,” He says smoothly, sliding into the chair beside her. “How much did you enjoy YN’s little… public humbling?”

Dann hesitates, caught off guard by the directness of the question. But then, her lips curl into a faint smirk.

“I can’t say it wasn’t satisfying,” She replies, her tone measured but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.

He chuckles darkly “I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’ve had a front-row seat to her antics, haven’t you?”

She shrugs, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass “I’m around her every day, every hour. I see more than anyone else does.”

Mike’s brows lift, his curiosity piqued “Really? And where is our dear YN now? Have you seen her?”

Dann’s eyes darted toward the balcony doors “Probably outside, drinking, smoking, who knows.”

Mike leans forward, his voice dropping slightly “Smoking?”

“Yeah,” Dann replies casually “She does it often. You wouldn’t notice, but I do. She hides it well.”

He studies her for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in her words. Then, with a smirk, he straightens up.

“Interesting. Well, I suppose I should go check on her, make sure she hasn’t set anything on fire in her dramatics.”

Dann let out a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She watches as Mike rose and headed toward the garden doors, his steps purposeful and unhurried.

✮ ⋆

The garden is quiet, the cool night air wrapping around you as you step outside. The soft glow of the party lights spills onto the garden, but you move further into the shadows, needing to be alone.

You clutch your champagne flute tightly, the glass cold against your palm. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of Mike’s words pressing down on you.

Why does he always do this? Why can’t he just let you be?

You take a deep breath, the crisp air biting at your lungs, and tilt your head back to look at the stars. They’re beautiful, distant, and unattainable—just like the life you’ve always wanted.

Your hands shake slightly as you sip champagne, the liquid sloshing around in the crystal flute as you bring it to your lips. You don’t care if that is already your fifth glass.

You need something to numb the ache in your chest, something to drown out the sting of Mike’s words.

You fumble for a cigarette, pulling one from the pack with a trembling hand. The sweet strawberry scent fills the air as you lit it, inhaling deeply as the smoke curls around you like a shield. It doesn’t help.

The words he’d said—how you aren’t good enough, how you would never live up to his expectations—replays in your mind over and over.

You try to focus on the cool air, the quiet of the garden, but the ache in your heart doesn't go away. You felt completely exposed out here, the vulnerability that had crept in from Mike’s public humiliation gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t care that you were smoking in a garden meant for guests, you didn’t care about anything at all right now.

How long have you been out here? An hour? Two? You don’t even know anymore. Your head is fuzzy from the alcohol and the smoke, and all you want is for someone to make it stop.

But no one is coming.

Your phone buzzes in your purse, but you don’t bother looking at it. It can be anyone—your parents, Mindy, maybe even Seonghwa.

But the person you truly want to hear from is nowhere to be found.

The door to the garden creaks open behind you, the sound sharp and jarring. You flinch, not needing to turn around to know who it is.

The anger in the footsteps, the unmistakable tension in the air—it could only be Mike.

“YN.” His voice cuts through the night like a blade.

You take another drag from the cigarette, your back stiffening.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to stop acting like an embarrassment!” His words are sharp, accusing “What the fuck are you doing out here, smoking and drinking like some common—”

You whip around to face him, your own anger rising like a tide.

“I don’t need you to lecture me, Mike.”

“Clearly, you need someone to remind you of your place,” He shoots back, his tone venomous “You’re out here, embarrassing the family, and you don’t even care.”

Your lips curl into a bitter smile, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the cigarette.

“You’ve made it clear enough how you feel about me. Why don’t you just get lost and leave me the fuck alone?”

Your voice is raw, but your words are sharp and final.

Mike’s jaw clenches, his anger bubbling over. Before you can react, he steps forward, his hand lashing out and landing across your cheek with a sickening crack.

You gasp, your head snapping to the side from the force of the slap.

For a moment, everything goes still. The sting spreads across your face, your vision blurring, but it isn’t just the slap—it’s the realization that he didn't change during these years and his knack of hitting you when he's upset is still there.

That he can hurt you again, in front of everyone, and no one would stop him.

Your lip splits, the taste of blood mixing with the bitterness in your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them back, refusing to show weakness.

“You'll always be the same, right?” Your voice trembles with the weight of the words.

Mike’s chest heaves with anger, but you don't care. You aren't afraid of him anymore. His cruelty has pushed you to the edge for too long, and now, something inside you snaps.

But as much as you want to say more, to lash out at him for everything he has ever done, your throat tightens. You swallow the lump in your throat, clenching your fists at your sides.

“Get back inside, YN,” He sneers, turning on his heel “You’re making this family look pathetic.”

You stay silent, watching him walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty garden. You sink back onto the bench, hands trembling.

You hadn’t expected him to hit you again—but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this night matters anymore.

What is left for you? Where is Hongjoong?

As you sit there, all you can feel is the weight of his slap and the suffocating silence of the garden.

✮ ⋆

The mansion looms in the distance as you step out of the car, the cold air biting at your skin through your thin dress. The chauffeur doesn’t say a word, and you don’t acknowledge him.

You didn’t say goodbye to anyone at the party—didn’t even care if anyone noticed you slipping out.

You push open the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the grand, empty hall. The house is silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and some maids doing errands.

It’s late, but a light glows faintly from the far side of the room. Dann’s mother is there, cleaning up, as she often does late into the night.

She looks up as you enter, her expression softening into concern the moment she sees you.

“Miss YN?” She says, her voice cautious yet kind “What happened to your lip?”

You touch your fingers to your mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of the torn skin. The dried blood cracks under your touch, but you force a small, dismissive smile.

“It’s nothing,” You say, your voice hoarse and detached.

She frowns, setting the dish towel down “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod, unwilling to engage any further “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a reply, you make your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reach your room, the weight of the night is unbearable.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath.

The room is exactly as you left it—immaculate, pristine, and entirely too cold. You slip out of your dress, trading the suffocating fabric for a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

Crawling into bed, you stare at the ceiling, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.

Mike’s humiliating speech, the slap that still burns on your cheek, and the conspicuous absence of Hongjoong.

Hongjoong.

You held onto the hope that he would show up, that he’d swoop in and make everything feel bearable, but he didn’t. Not a call, not a message. Just silence.

Your chest tightens, and your throat feels raw as the urge to cry threatens to consume you.

But you don’t. You won’t.

You clench your jaw, swallowing hard against the lump that’s risen in your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall.

Crying feels like defeat, like letting Mike, Hongjoong, and everyone else see how much they’ve gotten to you.

You curl up on your side, staring blankly at the wall. The ache in your chest is suffocating, but you press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay composed.

Mike’s words echo in your ears—his sneer, his disdain. And the silence from Hongjoong—the boy who is supposed to be on your side, who is supposed to see you, really see you—is deafening.

But you won’t cry. You won’t give them that power.

You take a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to block it all out. The humiliation, the loneliness, the betrayal—they’re all too much, but you won’t let them break you.

You are a Clarke. And YN Clarke doesn’t cry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong bursts into the venue, his heart pounding from the frantic drive. The event is still lively, guests milling about in elegant attire, but his eyes scan the room for one person only—you.

He pulls out his phone, scrolling to your name, his thumb hovering over the call button. With a shaky breath, he presses it, raising the phone to his ear as he moves through the crowd.

“Come on, pretty. Pick up.” He mutters under his breath.

The line doesn’t even ring—it goes straight to voicemail. His stomach sinks, and a fresh wave of panic washes over him. He tries texting instead:

Joongie♡: YN, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. Where are you? Please let me explain.

He hits send and watches the message sit undelivered, the grey checkmark mocking him.

“Damn it,” He hisses, running a hand through his hair.

“Hongjoong?”

A familiar voice cuts through the din. He turns to see your mother standing a few feet away, her brows knitted together in mild surprise.

“Mrs. Clarke,” He says, relief flooding his tone as he quickly approaches her “Have you seen YN? I’ve been trying to find her.”

Her expression softens, though there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. She might’ve left already.”

Hongjoong’s face falls “Left? Why would she leave?”

Mrs. Clarke hesitates, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“You know how these events can be… overwhelming. Sometimes, she just needs space.”

His heart twists. He can sense there’s more she isn’t saying, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he nods, his mind racing with worry.

“Did she… say anything before she left? Did she seem okay?”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances away briefly “She didn’t say much. But…” She pauses, then shakes her head “I think it’s best if you talk to her yourself. Maybe she is at home.”

Hongjoong nods again, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you. I’ll find her.”

The elegant woman gives him a small, almost apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving Hongjoong standing amidst the glitz and glamour of the party.

The lights feel too bright, the laughter too sharp. He dials your number again, and when it goes straight to voicemail, his frustration bubbles over.

“Pretty, please, call me back,” He says into the phone, his voice strained “I need to talk to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Please, just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hangs up, his chest heaving. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. He starts pacing, determined, Hongjoong sets off toward the exit, hoping against hope that he’s not too late to make things right.

After a twenty minute drive, Hongjoong pulls up to your house, his heart pounding as he steps out of the car. The sprawling mansion looms in the moonlight, its grandeur only amplifying his anxiety.

He jogs up the stone steps and rings the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and a maid greets him. Her expression brightens slightly when she recognizes him.

“Oh, Mr. Hongjoong, you’re a friend of Miss YN, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” He says, his voice laced with urgency “Is she home?”

The maid hesitates, then nods “I think she is in her room now, come in.”

Hongjoong exhales, his chest tightening “Thank you.”

He makes his way through the elegant hallways, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.

When he reaches your door, he finds it closed. He pauses, then knocks softly.

“YN? It’s me, Hongjoong,” He says, his voice trembling slightly “I… I need to talk to you. Please.”

There’s no response.

He knocks again, this time with more urgency “YN, I’m so sorry. I need you to know what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Inside, you sit on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest. You can hear every word he’s saying, the emotion in his voice tugging at your heart.

But you don’t move, your resolve firm. You can’t face him right now—not like this.

Hongjoong presses his forehead against the door, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I was tricked,” He says, his voice breaking “Dann… she gave me the wrong address. I thought I was going to the party, but it was all a lie. By the time I realized it was too late. I’m so sorry, YN. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

Still, you remain silent, staring at the door with a mix of anger, sadness, and exhaustion.

You want to believe him—you really do—but the weight of the evening keeps you rooted in place.

Hongjoong leans back, running a hand through his hair “I hate that I wasn’t there for you,” He continues “I know tonight was important to you, and I messed it up. But please, pretty… I care about you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Your heart aches at his words, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Maybe it’s the humiliation still fresh in your mind or the sting of feeling abandoned when you needed him most.

Either way, you decide to stay quiet.

After a long silence, he sighs heavily “I get it, you don’t want to talk to me right now. That’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

He lingers by the door for a moment longer, as if hoping for a miracle. When none comes, he finally steps away, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Inside, you exhale shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. You feel torn, caught between your desire to open the door and the overwhelming need to protect yourself.

Maybe when you feel better—when the pain isn’t so raw—you can talk to him.

But for now, you stay where you are, letting the quiet of the room envelop you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days pass in a haze. You keep to your room, the curtains drawn and the world shut out. You don’t want to face anyone—Mike, your parents, your friends, and especially Hongjoong.

The humiliation from the party still lingers like a wound that refuses to heal, and you can’t bear the thought of their pity or judgment.

Your mother knocks on the door each morning, her voice soft and tentative, but you always feign a cough or complain of feeling unwell. It works, for now.

They let you stay hidden away, though you know it’s only a matter of time before they stop accepting your excuses.

By Wednesday, the isolation is starting to feel suffocating, but you still can’t bring yourself to leave.

The knock on your door comes earlier than usual, followed by your mother’s voice.

“Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”

You hesitate, considering pretending to be asleep, but before you can answer, the door creaks open. She steps in, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness as she closes the door behind her.

She sits on the edge of your bed, smoothing the blanket with her manicured hands.

“You’ve been in here for days,” She says gently “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine,” You murmur, your voice hoarse “I just need some rest.”

She reaches out, brushing your hair “You don’t have to pretend with me, YN. I know how hard that night must have been for you.”

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your resolve waver.

But instead of breaking down, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nods, her gaze softening “That’s okay. But I need you to know that… I’m here for you. No matter what.” You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the wall. After a moment, she sighs and leans forward, kissing your forehead “I’ll let you rest. Just… don’t shut yourself off completely, okay?”

Later that evening, another knock sounds at your door. This time, it’s your father.

He doesn’t wait for permission before entering, holding a small black box in his hand.

“Darling,” He says, his tone unusually bright “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You glance at him warily as he places the box on the bed beside you.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see,” He says, his smile strained.

You sit up slowly, pulling the box closer. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, is a sleek key fob. Your breath catches as you recognize the emblem—your father’s favorite luxury brand.

“A car?” You ask, looking up at him.

He nods, his smile faltering slightly “It’s parked in the driveway. I thought… after everything, you deserve something special.”

You stare at the key, a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this—tried to smooth over their failures with expensive gifts. When you were a child, it was toys, then clothes, then trips abroad.

Now, it’s cars.

“Thanks,” You say quietly, your fingers curling around the key.

Your father seems to relax at your response, as if the gesture has absolved him of guilt.

“Take your time, darling. Whenever you’re ready, we can go for a drive.”

You nod, watching as he leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You stare at the key in your hand, the weight of it heavier than it should be. It’s a beautiful gift, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness inside you.

It doesn’t erase the memory of Mike’s words or the ache of feeling like you’re always second best.

You set the key down on your nightstand and lie back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll feel strong enough to face the world.

But for now, you stay cocooned in your room, the only place where you feel safe.

✮ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm, determination burning in your chest. You’ve spent days locked away, hidden from the world, but that ends today.

No one at school knows what really happened that night, and you intend to keep it that way. As far as they’re concerned, you were just under the weather.

Also, after four days, you decide to turn on your phone, which immediately fills up with notifications of missed messages and calls. You decide to take a moment to review it.

10 missed calls from Mindy.

7 missed calls from Brat Woo.

2 missed calls from Hwa.

1 missed call from Mingi.

28 missed calls from Joongie.

486 unread messages.

You don't want to read so many messages, so you prefer to shut it down and start to get ready for the day.

You pull open your closet door and scan through the racks of designer clothes.

After a few moments, you settle on a pearl-white blouse that hugs your frame perfectly, paired with a plaid mini-skirt that shows off your legs, and your favorite jimmy choo’s high heels complete the look, adding the perfect touch of glamour.

Your makeup is flawless, of course. You conceal every imperfection, erasing any hint of the chaos you’ve endured.

The faint scab on your lip vanishes beneath a carefully chosen red lipstick, and the flush of blush gives your cheeks a healthy, radiant glow.

The girl staring back at you in the mirror looks exactly as she should: untouchable, effortless, and every bit the queen bee.

Outside, your new car gleams under the morning sun, a symbol of your parent’s guilt and their way of fixing everything with a price tag.

You don’t care. Today, it’s a weapon, and you know exactly how to use it.

The engine purrs as you pull into the school parking lot, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turn, conversations falter, and by the time you step out, all eyes are on you.

You move with purpose, your heels clicking against the pavement as you stride toward the entrance.

You can feel the weight of their stares, hear the murmurs of curiosity.

“Is that YN’s new car?”

“Didn’t she call in sick for the past few days?”

“She looks gorgeous!”

You smirk inwardly, keeping your expression neutral. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.

None of it matters.

Inside, your friends are waiting near your locker, their faces lighting up as they spot you.

“Babe! You’re back!” Mindy exclaims, her voice tinged with relief “We were so worried about you!”

“What happened? Are you feeling better?” Another friend chimes in.

You shrug casually, opening your locker as if this is just another normal day.

“I’m fine. Just needed a few days to recover from the flu. Nothing serious.”

Mindy’s eyes flicker to your car keys, which you’re holding deliberately in your hand.

“And the car? Is that new?”

You flash her a small smile, dangling the keys for emphasis “A little gift from my parents. They thought I deserved a pick-me-up.”

The group erupts into compliments, fawning over your car and your outfit. It’s almost too easy to redirect their attention.

But as you glance around, your gaze lands on Hongjoong in the distance entering the library.

Maybe it’s time to talk with him about that night, he owes you an apology.

“I see you in class, girls.”

Without waiting for a response, you make your way to the library.

The library is quiet, the faint rustle of pages and soft whispers creating a cocoon of calm. You scan the room until your eyes land on Hongjoong, sitting at a table with a few of his friends.

He looks up just as you approach, his face shifting between surprise and relief.

“YN,” He starts, rising from his seat, “I—”

“Save it for later, Hongjoong,” You cut him off sharply, your tone leaving no room for argument “We need to talk about what you said that night.”

He hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his friends, but your unwavering stare makes him nod and follow you to a secluded corner of the library.

Once you’re alone, you cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you show up at the party? I waited for you for almost three hours, Joong.”

“I know, I know, pretty,” He says immediately, reaching out to steady your waist, his tone pleading “But like I told you that night, Dann tricked me—”

You cut him off again with a scoff, pulling back “Dann? You promised me you wouldn’t talk to her again.”

“And I didn’t start the conversation!” He protests, frustration creeping into his voice “She approached me that day at the mall.”

“What?” You blink, momentarily thrown off. The situation sounds ridiculous, almost laughable.

“That day, I was shopping, and out of nowhere, Dann appeared, asking what I was doing there. When I mentioned the party—” He pauses, sighing heavily as his hand rakes through his hair, “She told me the venue had changed and said she’d send me the new address. I thought it was odd, but when she mentioned your mom inviting her, I believed it.”

Your jaw tightens “And then?”

“I drove to the address she gave me,” He continues, his voice dropping with guilt “It was in the middle of nowhere. No signal, no way to contact you or anyone else. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. I rushed back to the Ritz and then to your house as soon as I could, but…”

You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. None of it makes sense.

Dann, sweet, shy, unassuming Dann, pulling off a plan like this? The thought feels absurd.

Then again, you remind yourself, people aren’t always what they seem.

“And why did you trust her? Why didn’t you call me after she told you that?” You press, your tone sharper now.

Hongjoong’s hands tighten briefly around your waist before he mutters.

“She said maybe you were busy and forgot to tell me. I... I trusted her because she was my friend.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the admission dripping with shame.

“Oh my god, Joongie.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I thought you were smart. But I understand. She was your friend, and you didn’t think she’d trick you like that.”

He bites his lip, clearly embarrassed, but when you reach out to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze to yours, he softens.

“Now you owe me an apology,” You murmur, your lips brushing his lightly “You left me all alone.”

He smiles at your pout, a playful glint in his eyes “I know. What about dinner after school?”

You shake your head, frowning “I want another kind of apology. You know what I mean, Kim Hongjoong.”

And of course, he knows. But he can’t resist teasing you, just a little.

“We can’t do anything indecent here, pretty,” He murmurs, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer “I don’t want to get us in trouble.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment linger for a breath longer before stepping back, a plan already forming in your mind.

“Fine,” You say, straightening your posture and fixing him with a determined look “But this isn’t over. And speaking of people owing me, I’m going to have a little chat with Dann. She has some explaining to do.”

Hongjoong stiffens, his playful demeanor vanishing “YN—maybe you should let it go. You know how Dann is. She’ll twist things, make it worse.”

“Not this time.” Your voice is steady, cold “She went too far, and I’m not letting her get away with it. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her how it’s done.”

He watches as you stride out of the library, determination radiating from every step.

He knows better than to argue when you’re like this, but even he can’t help the twinge of unease at the thought of what’s coming next.

✮ ⋆

The final bell rings, and students rush to leave the school. The hallways are alive with chatter, but you remain by your locker, surrounded by her entourage—Mindy, Wooyoung, Samantha, and a few others. Hongjoong lingers close by, his face a mixture of anticipation and tension.

As the crowd thins, you spot Dann walking down the hall, clutching her books, her head low as if trying to make herself invisible.

Your lips curl into a sharp smile, eyes glinting with cold determination.

“Dann!” You call out, voice slicing through the noise like a whip.

Dann freezes, her face draining of color. Slowly, she turns, her eyes wide as they meet yours.

It's been days since that day at the party and she’s been so nervous about you finding out what she did.

You saunter toward her, your friends following closely, their presence an unspoken threat.

“YN, I have to—” Dann begins, but you cut her off.

“Don’t even try, Dann. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic excuses.” You step closer, your gaze narrowing “I just have one question for you: What made you think you could lie to Hongjoong and me and get away with it?”

Dann swallows hard, glancing at the others, who are watching her like predators sizing up their prey.

“What—”

“Oh, don’t give me that!” You snap, throwing her hands up dramatically “You know what you did that day.” Dann’s panic builds, and her breath catches in her lungs for a moment “You didn’t mean to send Joongie to some random, deserted place? You didn’t mean to ruin my night?”

Dann’s grip tightens on her books “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to what?” You interrupt, voice dripping with mockery “You weren’t trying to sabotage me? You’re such a bad liar, Dann.”

Mindy smirks, chiming in “I mean, seriously, Dann. Did you really think you could pull this off? You’re so… gullible.”

“And desperate,” Wooyoung adds with a chuckle, earning a snicker from the others.

You cross your arms, your expression one of feigned hurt.

“You know, I even gave you that dress for the party. That expensive designer dress. Because I thought, ‘Hey, maybe Dann deserves a chance to feel special for once.’” You pause “Guess I was wrong.”

Dann’s eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head, trying to muster a defense.

“YN, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I just—”

“Just what?” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a small crowd of lingering students. “Just decided to be so dumb and submissive that you’d believe anything someone told you? Or are you working with someone?”

The accusation hangs in the air, and Dann’s lips part as if to respond, but she quickly closes them, her silence speaking volumes.

To everyone's surprise; Hongjoong steps forward, his jaw tight.

“You know what, Dann? I can’t believe I trusted you. You used to be my friend. I thought you were better than this.”

Dann flinches at his words, her composure slipping further.

“Joong, I…” Dann looks down, her tears threatening to spill over.

You smirk, stepping closer until you’re towering over Dann.

“Did you want me to be mad at him?”

Dann’s face flushes with humiliation, and she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! That’s not what I—”

“Save it, you’re pathetic, Dann. And you’re not just a liar—you’re a bad one. Honestly, I doubt you came up with this plan on your own. Someone must’ve put you up to it. Who was it?”

“Maybe it was Seonghwa, I saw them talking at the party.” Mindy snaps with a grin “Right, Dann?”

Dann remains silent, her lips trembling as she clutches her books tighter. She won't say a word about it, and you frown at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.

Seonghwa talking with her, What the fuck?

“No answer?” You laugh bitterly “I see, you’re too scared to even admit it. Well, let me give you some advice: Stay out of my way. You’re not in my league, Dann. You never were, and never will.”

Wooyoung steps forward again with a grin “You owe YN and Hongjoong an apology.”

“A real one. Not that half-hearted excuse you tried earlier.” Sam adds.

Dann’s tears finally spill over, and she whispers “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

You roll her eyes, turning to your friends.

“Let’s go. I’m done wasting my time on her.”

As they walk away, you glance over your shoulder one last time, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, and Dann? Don’t ever think about messing with me again. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”

The crowd disperses, leaving Dann standing alone, her face streaked with tears. Behind her trembling exterior, a flicker of something else—anger or determination—takes root.

✮ ⋆

Dann steps are heavy, her hands trembling slightly as she clutches her bag. Tears still cling to her lashes, but her face is set in a grim determination.

The humiliation at school burns fresh in her mind, your cutting words replaying over and over like a cruel mantra.

By the time she reaches the front door of Clrarke’s mansion, her shame has transformed into anger—a searing, all-consuming fury.

She pushes open the heavy doors without hesitation, her steps echoing through the grand foyer.

There is Mike, sitting comfortably reading something.

“Mike.” She says, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.

Mike looks at her, his expression cool and calculating as always. He closes the book, his sharp eyes scanning her face.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his lips curling into a smirk “You look like hell. Let me guess—Queen YN had her fun at your expense?”

Dann glares at him, dropping her bag onto the floor.

“She humiliated me again. In front of everyone.”

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “That’s her style. Did you expect a thank-you card for all your hard work?”

“I expected her to be human for once,” Dann snaps, her voice trembling with emotion “But she’s not. She’s a monster. And I’m done being her punching bag.”

Mike’s smirk widens, a glint of approval in his eyes “Finally. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grow a backbone.”

Dann takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady “You were right. About everything. YN needs to be taken down. For good.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued “And you’re ready to do what it takes?”

“Yes,” Dann says without hesitation, her fists clenching at her sides “I want to destroy her. Her reputation, her relationships, her entire world—I want it all gone.”

Mike stands up, and walks directly in front of her “Now you’re speaking my language. But do you have a plan, or are you just here to vent?”

Dann lifts her chin, meeting his gaze with newfound determination.

“I thought you might have some ideas. You’re the one who’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to slip up.”

“I do have a few ideas. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need to be smart. YN’s not stupid—she’ll see a direct attack coming from a mile away.”

Dann nods, her anger simmering just below the surface.

“So what do we do?”

Mike gestures for her to follow him, leading her to a luxurious sitting room where he pours himself a drink.

He takes a slow sip before speaking.

“We chip away at her. Little by little. She’s built this image of perfection and control, but all it takes is one crack for the whole thing to shatter.” He leans against the bar, his eyes gleaming with malice “We start with Hongjoong. Make YN doubt his intentions.”

Dann swallows, the weight of his words settling over her.

“How do we do that?”

Mike swirls his drink lazily, watching Dann with a satisfied smirk.

"Simple," He says "We make her think the one person she trusts most is betraying her."

Dann frowns, confused "Hongjoong? But he’s loyal to her."

He chuckles, shaking his head "Loyalty is fragile. YN’s world is built on power and control—she doesn’t trust anyone completely. If we plant the right seeds, she’ll start questioning even him."

Dann crosses her arms "How? He barely even talks to anyone outside of their little circle."

Mike leans forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"I’m pretty sure that after that nerd missed the party, he will apologize to her, right? Maybe this time he will fuck her as an apology.” He smiles, his words full of venom.

Dann shifts uncomfortably at Mike’s crude words, but she doesn’t argue. He’s right—Hongjoong will go crawling back to you, desperate to make it up to you.

He’s like a lost puppy when it comes to you, willing to do anything to stay by your side.

Mike watches her reaction carefully, then smirks “And when that happens, we’ll act.”

Dann furrows her brows “What do you mean?”

He sets his glass down with a soft clink, straightening up.

“I’ll tell you later, now go.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, but she does what he ordered. She turned around and left the room.

Whatever Mike is planning must be good.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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☆○☆○☆○

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

I’m in love with this series so far and i’m enjoying the slow relationship of hongjoong & reader though I am curious if whoever jumped hongjoong would see him with reader and go after them

Keep up the great work! I always love reading your works <3

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 4]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Character is injured, mentions of bruises, cuts, broken ribs and possibly other injuries.

"Hongjoong sshi?!" You gasped at the slumped figure that was leaning against the wall. Shining the torch on him, he squinted, he was covered in bruises and definitely bleeding somewhere.

"Hide me..." He breathed out, clutching onto his side as his face scrunched up in pain. You put your phone aside and went over to help him. You bent down, slipping his arm over your shoulder, helping him stand up. He winced as he stood up.

"Sorry!" You panicked, helping him into your store and closing the backdoor. As carefully as you could, you set him on the ground.

"Should I call an ambulance? Or the police?" You took your phone out but Hongjoong placed his hand over your phone, covering the screen before you could dial.

"No hospital, no police." He groaned.

"What? Are you crazy?! You're injured." You screeched. Hongjoong grasped your hand.

"Calm down... Take a breath... I'm not dying..." He assured. He was the one injured and yet, he had to calm you down as if you were the one that was bleeding.

"Okay. Tell me what I should do." You said shakily.

"Do you know how to treat wounds?" He asked. You nodded your head and decided to move him to the 'office' room.

"Wait here. Let me go get the first aid kit." You helped him lay on the couch you had left there before going to get stuff that you could use. You were not a medical professional but you did know basic wound care. Plus, injuries can always happen in the shop so you try to be as prepared as possible.

"Earlier you asked me to 'hide you'. Are you in danger by being here? Should I move you?" You came back, setting everything down.

"They should be long gone by now... Don't worry, you're not in danger." Hongjoong grunted. You felt your cheeks heat up, he knew what you were thinking about.

"We can talk later, let me fix you up." You began to clean the open cuts and put ointment on the bruises.

"Oww." He hissed when you dabbed the disinfectant over the cut on his eyebrow.

"Sorry." You squeaked and tried to be gentler, if that was even possible. After that, you placed a band aid over it. Once all the visible injuries were looked after, you stared at his shirt.

"C-Could you..." You wanted to hide, you couldn't even ask him to remove his shirt. Hongjoong smirked at your expression and removed his shirt.

"It's just a slash, I wasn't stabbed." He said when you were staring at the bleeding cut right at his ribs. That was the first thing you treated first. Hongjoong felt you look back at him for his expression with each dab of the cotton ball against the cut.

"Your salve works really well, by the way." He cleared his throat, lifting his injured hand up. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion before turning to look at his hand.

"Oh! I forgot about that. I'm glad it could help." You smiled when you remembered treating his hand for him.

"Do you get injured often?" You asked softly, seeing some old scars across his body.

"It's part of the job." He replied honestly. You nodded with a soft hum and quietly continued. You taped a gauze over the place where he was slashed.

"I don't know if you broke your ribs. But until you check them out, I'll tape them in place." Taking some sports tape, you skillfully tape Hongjoong's ribs. Hopefully, he goes to an actual doctor soon.

"I doubt they're badly broken." Hongjoong said with experience.

"All done. I don't think I missed anything." You stepped back with a soft sigh. While Hongjoong put his shirt back on, you were returning your things to their respective places. You grabbed some paracetamol tablets and a towel, wetting it in the bathroom sink, before going back to Hongjoong.

"Here, it's just paracetamol. I don't have anything stronger." You placed the pills in his hand and opened a new bottle of water for him.

"It's enough, thanks." Hongjoong sat up slightly and downed the pills. After he laid back down, you surprised him by reaching out to wipe his face with a wet cloth.

"Sorry! You can wipe it yourself if you'd like. I just thought you might be more comfortable." You stuttered.

"No, you can do it. I was just surprised." He closed his eyes, feeling you continue to wipe the sweat and grime off his face.

"Are you hungry? I can order dinner." You asked.

"(y/n) sshi, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm grateful for what you have done but you can go home. You've probably been busy working the whole day." He told you.

"It's okay, I usually stay late anyway. I've even stayed over a few times before. No big deal." You shrugged.

"Alright but if you want to go home, tell me and I'll leave. I understand that I can't stay because you have to lock up." Hongjoong said. You nodded obediently and took your phone, the both of you scrolling to see what food options there were.

Of course you wouldn't tell Hongjoong to leave. Yes, you barely knew him but he was gravely injured, you weren't ruthless enough to send him away while he was down.

"You should rest until the food comes." You said, taking the small throw blanket and draping it over him.

"What about you?" He blinked.

"I'll go get some work done, clean up a little." You smiled a little and stood up to leave the room, giving him some privacy. You took the time to tend to your plants and check on them.

"Hello? Delivery!" Someone called from the back. You put the broom down and went to open the door for the deliveryman.

"Have a nice evening." The deliveryman bowed. You bowed back to convey your thanks.

"Hongjoo- Woah." You stepped back in shock. When you opened the door, you were not expecting to see him standing there, pressed against the wall. His hand was resting on the waistband of his pants. Was he hiding a weapon? You hadn't even noticed it when you helped him into your shop.

"Just wanted to make sure it wasn't someone else." He said. You nodded stiffly and he stepped aside for you to put the food down on the desk so you could help him back to the couch.

"Let me get the foldable table." You went to the cupboard to get out the small plastic table.

"You really have everything you need here. It's like a house." He chuckled with slight amusement.

"Like I said, I've stayed over before." You giggled and went to get the food. When you came back, Hongjoong had shed his blazer and resting beside him was a knife in a sleeve.

"Sorry." Hongjoong must have sensed your discomfort because he put the knife into the inner pocket of his blazer to hide it.

"Thanks... Here." You handed him chopsticks. You sat on the carpet and Hongjoong slowly moved to sit beside you on the ground as well to eat. After looking through all the restaurants, you both decided to order rose tteokbokki and some fried food.

"Can you reach it?" You pushed the food closer to him so he wouldn't have to reach out too much to get it.

"I'm good." Hongjoong nodded and held his side as he reached to pick up a piece of rice cake. The two of you ate in silence, your mind was racing with too many thoughts now.

"Hongjoong sshi, if you don't mind me asking... Why did you not call your friends? And until now, you still haven't call them." You asked.

"Not worth it for them to go through the trouble. Plus, they'll just nag at me." He replied with a shrug.

"But wouldn't they be worried about you?"

"Maybe... You know what, they probably will worry a lot but it's fine. It's not like I'm running away, they'll see me tomorrow when I return home." He explained. You nodded your head slowly.

"What about your family? They're fine with you staying here overnight?" He asked back.

"Oh... I don't have anyone... I'm on my own so no one to answer to when I don't go home." You replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hongjoong mentally cursed, if he had properly read the file that he found about you, he would have known that you didn't have a family.

"B-But it's okay! I'm fine and happy on my own. It's been like that for my whole life so I'm used to it." You quickly added, worried that he would feel guilty for asking.

"I know how you feel, I was on my own for so long as well before I met my brothers." He smiled softly.

"Oh, you're brothers?" Your eyes widened.

"Chosen family, as people call it. A bunch of people that couldn't fit into society came together to form our own family. Sounds a lot like a comic book or movie, right?" He laughed.

"Yes but it's sweet that you all found people that you could rely on." You giggled with a smile.

"I'm grateful for them." He agreed with a nod.

"You know, Mrs Kim used to talk about you all the time and it always made me wonder what it would be like to meet you." You said without a though. But judging from the way Hongjoong stiffened and how the comfortable smile on his face disappeared, you knew...

"Hongjoong sshi! I'm sorry, I just... I always speak without thinking. I'm sorry." You panicked. Hongjoong clenched his jaw before taking a deep breath.

"It's fine. I'm full." He stated, putting his chopsticks down. Now you didn't have an appetite too, why did you screw things up?

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I already said it's fine, (y/n)." Hongjoong hissed, dropping the formality. You pursed your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek like a child that just got reprimanded.

"I'll just clear up and you can rest here." You gathered all the trash before Hongjoong could say anything.

"If you need anything, I'll be outside." You quickly said and scurried out of there.

"Great job, you chased her out of her own place." Hongjoong grumbled, scolding himself as he slumped against the couch. He slowly grabbed the foldable table and put it back for you. After sitting there for a bit, Hongjoong grabbed his phone and sent a text out to one of the Ateez members.

"(y/n), you idiot." You slapped your forehead. You threw the trash outside and washed your hands in the small bathroom.

While there was no soap for you to shower or fresh clothes for you to change into, you grabbed a small towel and wiped yourself down to feel a little fresher.

"Ah, I'm so tired." You sighed, falling back into the chair behind the counter. There wasn't much for you to do here but you were listless so you went to your botany table and grabbed your botany book.

"(y/n) sshi?" Hongjoong opened the door and poked his head out when he saw you fast asleep.

"Mmmh..." You stirred, burying your face further into your folded arms to get comfortable. You laid on your open book.

"Hyung, I'm he-"

"Shhhh." Hongjoong hushed the taller, who blinked back in surprised.

"Geez, hyung. You look terrible. You sure you don't me to call our doctor?" Yunho winced, seeing that disheveled state the captian was in. Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"That's what happens when you get jumped. Anyway I'm sure I don't need a doctor, Yunho. I should wake her up and send her home. This is no place to sleep." Hongjoong turned to look back at where you were. Yunho craned his neck to see you sleeping at the counter.

"Up to you. By the way, I need your keys, I brought one of our men to drive your car home. You're in no shape to drive." Yunho said.

"Fine. Wait here." Hongjoong put his car keys in Yunho's hand and walked back to the shop. For a few seconds, he stood there, how was he supposed to wake you?

"(y/n) sshi...?" He shook your gently, not wanting to scare you too much. It took a while for your eyes to open and you flinched.

"Oh my!" You jumped, realising that you had fallen asleep.

"Sorry to scare you, my transport is here. But let me drop you home first. It's the least I could do after all that you've done for me tonight." Hongjoong informed.

"I didn't even know I fell asleep... You don't have to, Hongjoong sshi. You're injured, you should get home and rest." You yawned.

"I want to. And it'll make me feel better knowing you got home safely." He smiled.

"Alright, if you're sure..." You stood up. Hongjoong stepped aside to give you space while you cleared up and grabbed your things. He waited at the back door, talking to Yunho. You tried to be fast, you didn't want to make him and whoever was with him wait too long for you since it was so late.

"Oh, hello." You stopped and bowed deeply to Yunho. You remember seeing him at the funeral, he was close with Hongjoong, one of his 'brothers'. He was very tall and good looking.

"(y/n) sshi, right? Nice to meet you, I'm Yunho." He smiled. Even you were blown away by how handsome he was when he smiled.

"Thank you for taking care of our leader here." Yunho snickered while Hongjoong glared daggers into Yunho's head.

"It's no worry at all." You replied softly. The two waited for you to properly lock up before Yunho led the two of you to the car. He did try to support Hongjoong.

"Stop that." Hongjoong slapped Yunho's arms away, preferring to walk on his own.

"Let me help, hyung~" Yunho said. Hongjoong flipped him off and continued limping. You smiled, watching them from the back.

"Hyung, that's very uncouth behaviour, especially in front of a lady." Yunho teased, opening the door to the G-Wagon for you while Hongjoong went to the other side to get into the car himself. He held his hand out to you to help you up.

"Thank you." You cleared your throat shyly as you got into the back seat. Hongjoong groaned in pain as he hoisted his body up and into the back seat, leaning against the back.

"You just had to take the G Wagon." He hissed.

"Well, if you had told me that you were this injured, I wouldn't have taken it then." Yunho said as he closed the driver's door.

"(y/n) sshi, may I have your address please?" He turned back to you. You nodded and sat forward, reciting your address to him to put into his GPS system.

"Thanks. We're good to go." Yunho said and you sat back in your seat, fastening your seatbelt.

As Yunho drove, you looked out the window, still feeling a lingering sleepiness from earlier. It was rather late at night.

"You can sleep if you'd like." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone. He had been fixed on the device, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face in the dark vehicle.

"I-I'm good. Thanks." You cleared your throat, focusing on the city lights outside. It didn't take long for Yunho to pull up to your apartment building. You were grateful you didn't fall back asleep. Yunho would have reached faster but he knew Hongjoong would kill him if he sped while you were in the car.

"Yunho, walk her up." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone as he was texting someone.

"Yes, sir." Yunho was out of the car before you could protest. He opened the door for you, holding his hand out again to help you out of the vehicle.

"I'm fine walking up on my own." You forced a smile.

"It's okay." Yunho smiled.

"Bye, Hongjoong sshi. Goodnight." You turned back to bow to the injured male. Yunho accidentally closed the door behind you before Hongjoong could properly reply you.

"Let's go." Yunho nodded over to the door. You walked with him trailing beside you.

"So, have you had your flower shop for long?" Yunho asked as you both stepped into the lift.

"Not that long... I've always been interested in plants and botany. But I don't think being a botanist would have brought me a stable income right away so I opened up my flower shop. I just study botany on the side." You shrugged.

"Ah, that's very practical of you. But botany does sound interesting. Do you make special potions to poison people?" He asked. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, I make natural poison darts in my free time." You joked, making Yunho laugh along.

"This is me." You stopped before the door, fishing your keys out to unlock it.

"Thanks again for sending me back and walking me up, Yunho sshi. It's so late, you must be tired." You smiled and bowed. Yunho shook his head.

"It's fine. No need to thank me. I should thank you again for helping Hongjoong hyung." He repeated.

"It was no big deal, really. Oh! Also, could you help me return this to him? I said something out of turn and made him angry. I think he's probably still upset with me." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Whatever it is, I don't think he's angry with you. But I will return this to him." Yunho tucked the silk handkerchief into his pocket.

"If you say so. Goodnight, Yunho sshi. Get home safe. And if Hongjoong sshi's injuries get worse, please bring him to a doctor." You said with a worried frown on your face. Yunho nodded and saluted obediently. He watched you enter your house before leaving and going back downstairs.

"Yah! You closed the door before I could say bye to her. Now she's going to think I'm stuck up or something." Hongjoong scolded him the moment he entered.

"Nope, not stuck up. She thinks you're mad at her." Yunho laughed, closing the door and starting the engine.

"Mad at her?" Hongjoong blinked.

"Yeah apparently she said something to you that made you mad. She couldn't even return this to you, thinking you're still angry." He turned around and handed Hongjoong his handkerchief.

"Oh... I wasn't angry..." Hongjoong said, looking down at the silk handkerchief, his thumb running across the silky material.

"That's what I said. The last time you were actually angry with someone, they ended up with a bullet between their eyes." Yunho snickered.

"YOU TOLD HER THAT?" Hongjoong screeched.

"Of course not. I couldn't have her fainting from shock. Although I'm sure seeing you beaten up like that is enough to traumatise her for a bit." Yunho raised his eyebrows. Hongjoong let out a long sigh as Yunho the drive back to their home.

"You didn't tell Seonghwa about what happened yet, right?" Hongjoong asked.

"Nope. Seonghwa hyung came back from his race and went straight to bed. Didn't even know I left, I think. But hyung, you can't hide your injuries from Seonghwa hyung and the rest." Yunho stated.

"I know. The main thing is to discuss those that were involved in my attack. No one dares to jump me." Hongjoong growled.

"Exactly. Whoever it is... They either don't know Ateez or they're trying to start a war. Although I seriously think they're trying to start a war." Yunho sighed.

"Well, if it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get." The captain declared.

~

Series masterlist

AHHHHH I LOVE IT!!!! IT WAS AMAZING 10/10 the different text next to the hours were interesting to read.

I can’t wait to read the other members parts whenever they come out. keep up the amazing work <3

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG

pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis ✃

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong to hijack a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)

c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart

author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.

it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.

you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.

HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF

‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 

after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.

this trip didn’t feel right.

it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 

not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 

but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 

‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’

HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME

meal service started like any other: boring. 

after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”

the man in sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”

you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 

“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 

your eye twitched. this dickhead.

first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 

“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”

you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”

“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.

you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 

hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”

you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 

you were losing your mind.

“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.

grade A asshole.

HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN

the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?

with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-

static.

its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.

with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.

but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’

things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 

concerned, you pushed it open.

the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.

then your eyes caught up.

blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 

a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 

grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 

pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.

hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.

“these your friends?”

you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 

he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”

you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.

“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”

an audible click cut you off.

you froze.

slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.

“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”

HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD

hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.

well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.

he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 

you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”

“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”

..how the hell did he get that information?

“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”

“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”

hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”

you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”

“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.

“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”

your brows furrowed. “no, i-”

“killing. my. men.”

you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”

his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”

your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”

you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.

your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”

hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.

“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”

HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE

the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.

hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 

the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”

the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off about the plane, but i have no idea how.”

hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.

you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”

for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.

the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.

hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”

HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL

“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.

SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 

you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 

“…who are you?” you asked quietly.

he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”

your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 

“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”

you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 

but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 

“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 

no answer.

“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 

the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.

your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 

no answer. 

when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 

he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 

the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 

a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 

but that was when you saw it. 

blood. 

on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  

“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”

hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”

you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?

“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”

before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 

you met hongjoong’s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.

the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 

but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.

you fell asleep.

HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD

you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 

“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.

your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 

the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.

you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.

“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.

“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.

“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”

“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 

“it’s still a plane, jongho-”

“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”

both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.

“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”

your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.

“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”

“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.

“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”

“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”

he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.

“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”

he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”

your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.

“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”

“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”

jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”

he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“change of plans.”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN

you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 

the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 

your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”

jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.

you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”

“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 

you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 

then suddenly, the door slammed open. 

both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 

the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.

“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”

“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 

you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 

blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 

you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”

mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 

you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 

you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you. let me see it.”

hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 

a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 

“i need water.” 

jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”

“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”

jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 

crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 

“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 

jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 

once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.

“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.

“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”

hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”

you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.

“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.

you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.

“this will hurt,” you warned.

he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”

you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 

when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.

you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 

“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.

“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 

you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”

“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”

you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?

“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 

a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 

“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he lookedaround the room. 

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”

HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER

“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.

he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.

the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.

without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.

“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”

hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”

“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”

hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”

“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-

“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”

the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 

“don’t eat or drink anything here.”

you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”

“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”

his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.

he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 

hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.

“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”

hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”

“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”

the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“

“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 

your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“

“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 

hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”

“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”

“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 

“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”

HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR

a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.

hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”

“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.

his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.

“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.

“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 

“mr kim! stop right there!” 

you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 

“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 

your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.

“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.

“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.

“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”

your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.

“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”

the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”

“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”

your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”

“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”

the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”

HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD

gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 

the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 

“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.

you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.

“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.

“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.

your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.

“don’t make me do this!” you cried.

your father didn’t stop and without thinking-

-you pulled the trigger.

a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.

“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?

hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 

“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”

he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.

hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.

you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.

“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”

he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.

“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.

hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.

“what? he’s my dad-”

“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”

you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”

hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 

you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”

he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.

outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“drive,” he ordered.

as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.

hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”

DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME

you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 

relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.

just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”

you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.

“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”

and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.

though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 

“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.

“a day,” he replied with a shrug.

your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.

“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”

“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”

“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”

you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.

“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”

“...what?”

he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.

‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’

“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 

“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”

the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 

“-to him.”

your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.

“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”

you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 

“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.

“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”

“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”

you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”

“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”

“that’s not true-”

“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”

you shook your head.

“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”

your jaw dropped. “but-”

“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”

you stared at him, struggling to process his words.

“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”

“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.

he nodded. 

you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.

after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 

MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 

that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 

suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 

“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 

your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 

“stay here,” san said firmly. 

you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”

the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”

they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 

when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 

the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 

wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”

yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”

“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 

before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 

“meeting. now.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 

“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”

hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”

you shifted uncomfortably. 

hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 

“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”

“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”

“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 

everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 

“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”

“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”

hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 

“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 

a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 

minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 

your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”

“you’re staying at my place.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 

you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 

“no,” he replied flatly. 

there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 

“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 

hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 

“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 

from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 

the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 

your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”

hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”

“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 

hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 

once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 

“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”

you blinked. “oh.”

“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”

your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”

he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”

his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 

hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 

the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 

“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”

hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 

“cool.”

“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”

you blinked. “…yeah?”

“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”

MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 

hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 

it all happened so fast. 

the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 

your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 

the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 

fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 

your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 

he picked up after one ring. 

“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 

“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”

“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”

the line went dead before you could respond. 

you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 

he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 

he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 

you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 

the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 

your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 

once. 

twice. 

again and again and again. 

the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 

when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 

you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 

you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.

you just took someone’s life. 

your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 

the door slammed open. 

hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 

“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 

you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 

“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

you shook your head quickly. 

he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 

and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 

you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 

hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 

“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”

you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 

the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.

once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).

the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 

the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 

you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”

“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”

“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”

“i…”

he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”

the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 

you blinked. 

“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”

“but-”

“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.

your eyebrows furrowed. 

“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”

you stared at him. “what?”

“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”

you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 

he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!

the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 

“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.

you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”

you sighed. “alright.”

you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.

the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.

armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.

hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.

the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.

but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.

“boss!”

without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.

the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 

hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.

the silence that followed was deafening.

hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”

“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 

his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.

it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?

and yet...

why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.

“you good, boss?” yunho asked.

hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”

yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.

hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.

why did this bother him so much?

you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.

but this wasn’t about the group, was it?

he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.

what has he ever done for you?

introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?

hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

shit.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.

you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.

you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.

your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.

“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”

you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”

you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.

he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”

you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.

…did your boss just tucked you in?

MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE

“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 

the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.

he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”

you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”

“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”

you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.

hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”

you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“

“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”

his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”

you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“again.”

you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.

he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.

“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.

your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?

his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 

“you don’t get to quit.”

the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 

“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.

his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.

MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD

the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.

and so did hongjoong.

you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.

you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.

he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”

“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”

his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.

“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”

the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.

when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.

the first shot rang out.

gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-

-someone grabbed you.

you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.

“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.

you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”

a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”

“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”

“you-”

before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as his pants turned a dark red.

you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.

“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.

the group stayed silent.

“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.

hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.

the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”

hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face. “then my money wouldn’t be wasted on cunts like you.”

“i’m surprised that you got a woman like her to fuck you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 

“i guess you inherited her bitchiness.”

the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.

the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 

“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”

hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.

the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.

hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 

“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.

hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.

but then hongjoong lunged.

the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.

after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.

you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”

his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.

hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.

“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”

“i’m trying.”

he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.

“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”

something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.

when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.

his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.

at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.

for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.

but then, he moved. to you. 

his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.

his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 

you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”

the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.

hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.

when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”

you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”

he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”

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BONUS SCENE - MINE

the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.

the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?

a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.

you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.

“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.

he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”

“i’ve been better.”

there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.

“uh-oh.”

“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”

you tilted your head, confused.

his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”

“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.

he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol, sleek and black.

“take this,” he held it out to you.

you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”

“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”

you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”

“then i’ll teach you.”

you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”

you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 

“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”

your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.

“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”

his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you’re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”

your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes.”

you blinked. “yes to what?”

“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.

your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.

“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”

the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.

“yes.”

a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

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I’m about to super mario 64 jump into my phone and fight mike and dann, haven’t liked mike from the beginning and dann I’m trying to be understanding cause of what happened, but also i care too much about reader and hongjoong.

speaking of hongjoong my boy be honest with reader please, this is only gonna get worse and i’m gonna end up throwing my phone in frustration cause it’s gonna be a bunch of build up lies.

anyways I enjoyed the chapter like always the next one worries me (all the next chapters are gonna worry me), but first heartbreak ahhhhhhh

keep up the great work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆08: The first lie.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, agnst, slow burn, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8,5k

Summary: Your relationship with Hongjoong takes a new turn, but sooner after, things start to feel off.

Rumors spread, and frustration will consume you.

Warnings: Smut (MDN!!) Switch!Hongjoong, Switch!reader, oral (f receiving) slight handjob, hair pulling, riding, pet names (good boy, pretty, baby) suggestive.

Series masterlist Taglist

☆07 ☆09: The first heartbreak.

You and Dann.

The Clarke mansion is always buzzing with activity, but tonight, Mike had a plan to ensure it was completely empty—except for two specific people.

You sit at the grand dining table, smiling at the photo on your phone screen and the short message attached.

HN: She says: thank you for the toys!!

You let out a soft smile before scrolling through your social media.

On the other side of the table, Mike watches your parents with a casual smile. Your father, ever the businessman, is flipping through his tablet, barely paying attention to his meal, while your mother delicately cuts into her filet mignon.

"You know," Mike begins smoothly, setting down his glass, "It's been a while since we went out together for dinner. Why not go somewhere special tonight? Just us."

Your father lifts an eyebrow "A night out? That's rather sudden, Son."

“Yeah, let's have dinner tonight to celebrate all our achievements as a family.”

“That sounds so nice, Mike.” Your mother says with enthusiasm as she turns to you “Sweetie, we can match our outfits, what about emerald and pearls tonight.”

Before you can say something Mike’s speaks again.

“Actually, I was inviting only you two. YN can do other things.”

You can sense the bitterness in his tone, so you just roll your eyes. Isn't like you want to waste your time at dinner with him.

“But, Mike—” Your mother starts, but you interrupt her.

“Don't worry, Mommy. I don't feel like hanging out today.” You give her a smile waving off.

Your father finally glances up "Where do you have in mind?"

Mike leans forward, feigning nonchalance.

"I made a reservation at The Imperial Orchid at seven. It’s exclusive, elegant, and I hear their sommelier is outstanding. Consider it a small token of appreciation for everything you do."

Your mother exchanges a look with her husband, a subtle curiosity flickering in her eyes. Mike knows them too well.

Your father enjoys luxury, your mother enjoys exclusivity. He had picked the perfect bait.

Your father nods slowly "It does sound appealing."

"Well, that’s very thoughtful of you, dear. I suppose we could use a quiet evening out."

Your mother looks at you with concern but you smile again, so she can go out without worries about you feeling left out.

Mike smirks internally.

Perfect.

✮ ⋆

As the last of the evening sunlight fades, Dann arrives at Mike’s studio, her face still clouded with remnants of anger from earlier. Mike is waiting for her, his usual smirk firmly in place as he watches her enter.

“You’re just in time,” He says, pouring himself another drink “I have one more task for you tonight.”

Dann crosses her arms “What now?”

Mike steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I know it’s cruel of me to force you into this, Dann, but you have to make sure they have sex.”

Dann’s breath catches in her throat “What?”

“You heard me,” Mike continues smoothly, tilting his head “YN is predictable. She’s been waiting for the perfect excuse to pull Hongjoong in closer. And now, with an empty house and him eager to have her forgiveness, it’s going to happen.”

Dann swallows hard, torn between hesitation and the deep-seated anger still burning inside her.

He leans in just a little “Only if they do, we can move forward with the plan.”

Dann clenches her fists but nods “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Mike grins, satisfied. Everything is falling into place.

“Good, see you later then.”

✮ ⋆

YN♡: Come over tonight. You still owe me an apology.

The moment your mother announces that she, your father and Mike won’t be back until later, you seize the opportunity.

An empty house—well, if you ignore the maids—is something you can’t let go to waste.

You smirk as your phone vibrates with a response. You already knew what it would say. He never could resist you.

Joongie♡: I’ll be there in thirty.

Satisfied, you set your phone down and head to the shower, letting the warm water soothe your skin. You take your time, indulging in a long, relaxing bath before stepping out, your mind already set on what comes next.

A pretty white lingerie set—delicate lace, soft satin—makes you look innocent, almost angelic. The irony makes you smile.

You add lacy stockings, white heels, the perfect complement to the illusion of purity you’re crafting. With a final touch of mascara and lip gloss, you stare at your reflection, knowing exactly the effect this will have on him.

Are you putting in all this effort for a gorgeous nerd?

Yes, you are.

A silk robe drapes over your body, shielding the little surprise you’ve prepared. You don’t even know why you’re trying so hard—why the thought of him seeing you like this sends an unfamiliar flutter through your stomach.

A soft knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts.

His voice follows, hesitant but warm "Pretty?"

One last glance in the mirror, one deep breath, and you step toward the door.

The second you open it, Hongjoong’s sweet smile falters. His eyes widen, sweeping over you in stunned silence. Leaning casually against the doorframe, you look effortless, untouchable—until you decide otherwise.

"Took you long enough, nerd." You tease, stepping aside to let him in.

He swallows hard, quickly averting his gaze "I had to make sure my mom believes my lie."

You arch a brow "You lied to your mom? What did you tell her?"

"Pretty, it’s almost eight," He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck "If I told her I was coming here, she’d start making assumptions. So I told her I was going to the movies with Yunho and Yeosang."

You tilt your head, amused "So you lied… just to make it up to me?" You step closer, fingers lightly tugging at the collar of his shirt "Right?"

Hongjoong exhales sharply, his resolve crumbling under your touch.

"Yeah…"

A victorious smile curves your lips

"Then prove it."

You turn and walk to the bed, sitting at the edge with slow, deliberate ease, watching as he hesitates. You pat your thigh, tilting your chin up

"Kneel."

His breath catches.

For a second, he doesn’t move, like his brain short-circuited at the command. You can practically hear his internal battle—his nerves screaming at him to overthink, to doubt, but his obsession with you outweighing everything else.

Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, he obeys.

Hongjoong kneels between your legs, hands clenched at his sides, gaze locked onto yours with a mixture of awe and pure, unfiltered longing.

He looks so shy, so adorably uncertain, like he can’t believe he’s here, like he doesn’t know where to start.

"You’re nervous," You murmur, your fingers trailing along his jawline.

He exhales shakily "You… You make it hard to think."

"Good."

You lean in, your lips ghosting over his, teasing but not quite giving in. He whimpers—an actual whimper—his fingers twitching against his thighs as if fighting the urge to touch you.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his arms.

"Relax, Joongie."

But he’s trembling, overwhelmed, his whole body wound tight like a spring.

"I— I don’t wanna mess this up," He admits, his voice laced with vulnerability.

That softens you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek before trailing down, lower, your touch both gentle and deliberate.

"You won’t," You assure him "Just stop holding back."

And when you finally kiss him—really kiss him—he melts.

Because no matter how nervous he is, no matter how much he overthinks, there’s one thing he knows for sure.

He’d do anything to prove himself to you.

The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, and you feel the way he shivers beneath your touch. His hands, still hesitant, finally find your waist, gripping the fabric of your robe as if grounding himself.

You pull back just enough to study him—flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with desire and uncertainty.

God, he’s adorable.

Then, your fingers reach up, and before he can react, you slide his glasses off.

Hongjoong stiffens "W-Wait—"

You hush him with a finger against his lips "You won’t need these tonight."

You fold the glasses and set them aside on the nightstand, watching the way he blinks rapidly, disoriented.

Without them, his gaze is softer, more vulnerable, as if you’ve stripped away yet another layer of his defenses.

"I… I can barely see you," He admits, flustered.

You smirk, running your hands through his hair before tugging lightly.

"Then feel me."

A strangled sound escapes him, and you swear you can see his last bit of restraint snap.

His hands tighten on your waist, his lips crashing back onto yours with newfound desperation. This time, he isn’t hesitating. He’s learning, exploring—his touch still unsure, but eager.

His kisses grow bolder, and when you shift, pulling him closer, he groans against your mouth, a sound so raw it makes your stomach flip.

"YN…" He breathes, your name falling from his lips like a plea, like a prayer.

You grin against his skin, dragging your nails lightly down his back, and he shudders, pressing himself closer.

"Good boy," You murmur, and the way his breath hitches tells you everything you need to know.

He’s completely, utterly yours and lost in you now.

The moment you murmur ‘Good boy,’ Hongjoong practically melts against you, his grip tightening, his breath uneven. His entire body responds to your touch, to your words, as if he’s been waiting for this—for you—to finally consume him.

His lips trail down your neck, hesitant at first, then bolder when you don’t stop him. Every movement is cautious, like he’s afraid to mess up, but you guide him effortlessly, tilting your head to give him more access.

"You're thinking too much," You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging slightly.

A soft groan escapes him, and his hands tighten on your waist.

"I just… I wanna do this right," He admits, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean back slightly, taking in the sight of him—flushed, breathless, pupils blown wide with desire and uncertainty. He’s so desperate to prove himself to you, to show you that he can be enough.

That he is enough.

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate.

"You already are."

Hongjoong exhales shakily, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He’s still nervous, still overthinking—so you do what you do best.

You take control.

With a push, he’s on his knees before you, his hands resting on your thighs, looking up at you with something between awe and devotion.

"YN…" His voice is barely a whisper, but the way he says your name sends a shiver down your spine.

You cup his face, tilting it up so he has no choice but to look at you.

"You're mine, nerd."

Your voice is soft but firm—a quiet promise, a claim.

Hongjoong’s breath stutters, his hands tightening around your legs as if anchoring himself. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted in something between reverence and disbelief.

"Yours," He breathes, like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever said.

And that’s all you need.

You pull him back up, claiming his lips once more. This time, there’s no hesitation, no restraint. You feel the shift in him—the anticipation, the desperation, the sheer need.

His hands tremble slightly as they slide up your arms, fingertips ghosting over the silk of your robe before carefully pushing it off your shoulders. It pools onto the mattress, forgotten.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at you, drinking you in, his breath caught somewhere in his throat.

Your lingerie leaves little to the imagination, and yet, to him, it’s everything.

He doesn’t know where he finds the confidence, doesn’t know what possesses him to move the way he does—but suddenly, his grip on your hips tightens. In a swift, uncalculated motion, he pushes you up the bed, his strength surprising even himself.

Your breath catches.

Fuck, that was hot.

"So you want me to apologize?" His voice is lower now, rougher, laced with something unfamiliar yet thrilling.

You blink, caught off guard. His shyness is gone, replaced by something bold, something raw. And you like it.

A smirk curves your lips "Yeah… Show me how much you want my forgiveness."

His answering smile is slow, teasing, almost wicked. It makes heat pool in your stomach, makes your fingers curl against the sheets.

And then he’s kissing you again—harder, deeper. This time, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

Lust fuels every movement, every touch. His hand finds the curve of your waist, gripping just enough to make you gasp against his mouth. The other stays planted beside your head, keeping him steady.

When he pulls away, his breathing is ragged, his lips swollen and pink.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is barely above a whisper, yet it sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink up at him, momentarily confused—until you feel the light brush of his fingers at the hem of your lacy panties, tentative, seeking permission.

Your pulse skips.

He’s still your nerd, still the same awkward, blushing boy who would do anything for you.

But tonight, he wants to prove that he’s more.

And you’re going to let him.

You nod without hesitation, anticipation shimmering in your eyes. A slow, confident smile tugs at Hongjoong’s lips—one that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move with newfound boldness, sliding the fabric down your hips. You lift yourself slightly, helping him discard the last barrier between you.

Kneeling between your legs, he takes a shaky breath, his fingers grazing over your thighs, tracing the delicate lace of your stockings before pressing into your skin with a firm squeeze.

He has a perfect view of your already wet folds, he tilts his head, his eyes locked in your sticky core. His gaze is fixed—entranced—as if memorizing every inch of you.

You squirm under his stare, warmth creeping up your neck, but when you instinctively try to close your legs, he stops you, his hands tightening around your thighs.

"Don't hide from me," He murmurs, his voice lower than usual, filled with something deeper. Something reverent.

Your breath hitches as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of heat. You fist the sheets beneath you, trying to steady yourself, but when his tongue takes the first taste of your arousal, a soft gasp escapes your lips, fingers immediately tangling in his hair.

“Joong—” His name falls from your lips in a breathy moan, the sensation making your stomach coil with pleasure.

He hums against you, the vibration sending sparks through your veins. His movements are slow, careful, savoring every drop, every reaction, every shiver he pulls from you.

Your back arches, desperate for more, but before you can beg, he pulls away.

Your protest dies the moment he crashes his lips against yours, stealing your breath in a kiss that’s all tongue, heat, and desperation.

You taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your head spin.

"You taste so good, pretty." Hongjoong mutters against your lips, his voice husky. You whimper, trying to chase his lips again, but he chuckles softly "What do you need, baby?"

His words send a new wave of heat through you, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. His voice, his touch—everything about him is intoxicating.

"I need you," You breathe, nails dragging down his back "I need you to fuck me."

Hongjoong’s confidence wavers for the first time tonight. His grip on your waist trembles slightly, his breath uneven.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, hesitation flickering behind his dark-rimmed glasses.

Hongjoong has never done this before—at least, not like this. He has no sexual experience, the only experiences he's had are with you, but you didn't go beyond.

Every intimate moment you’ve shared up until now has been a slow buildup of tension.

But this? This is something else. Something bigger.

His fingers twitch against your skin as he exhales shakily, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want to mess this up.” He confesses, voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softens. Reaching up, you cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over the flushed skin.

"You won't," You promise, kissing him gently, reassuringly "Just trust me."

And as he looks into your eyes, his nerves slowly melt away, replaced with something else entirely—something that makes your pulse quicken.

Because tonight, he isn’t just the shy nerd who worships you.

Tonight, he’s yours.

You notice the shift in his body language—how his muscles tense, how uncertainty flickers behind his dark eyes.

You know why.

Without hesitation, you shift positions, guiding him onto his back until he’s lying beneath you. Your thighs bracket his hips, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you straddle him.

Hongjoong stares up at you, wide-eyed, breath caught somewhere between surprise and anticipation.

You giggle softly, leaning down so your lips hover just above his.

"Don’t worry, Joongie," You murmur, tracing your fingers over his collarbone "I’ll teach you how to fuck me properly later."

His lips part slightly, but before he can respond, you close the distance, capturing his mouth in another kiss. Slow. Deep. Reassuring.

You pour everything into it—every bit of desire, every bit of unspoken reassurance—silencing any lingering doubts he might have.

You need him to understand that his inexperience doesn’t matter. That you don’t care. The only thing that matters is this.

Him. His first time—his first experience—with you and only you.

You feel him relax beneath you, his hands finally moving, trailing up your sides with a newfound confidence. His grip tightens slightly on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself in the moment.

Encouraged, you reach for the hem of his jeans, unfastening the button, lowering the zipper with deliberate slowness. He tenses again—but this time, not from hesitation.

His breath hitches when your fingers brush against his already hard crotch, and his grip on you tightens as you start to ease his jeans down, taking his underwear with them.

Fuck, this is really going to happen.

Hongjoong’s mind starts to race in negative thoughts as you take his length in your hand.

‘Don’t mess this up. Where does he put his hands? Is this okay? Should he ask? No, asking sounds lame. But what if—’

“Hongjoong.” You call him, noticing his demeanor. Of course, you do. You always see right through him.

He lets out a shaky breath, looking up at you with nothing but need in his gaze, you know—he’s yours.

“Yes?”

Your fingers brush against his jaw, tilting his face up so your eyes meet. You smirk, your voice low and teasing.

“Relax, nerd. You think too much, if you are nervous you're not going to enjoy it.” You say with tenderness as you lift his shirt, Hongjoong noticing your intentions, sits down to help you to remove it “It’s okay, it’s your first time and I know you are overthinking it.”

You murmur leaning closer to press a soft kiss in his lips, trying to calm him, and it works. He hums kissing you back, his hands now on your thighs and his hips jerking a little.

Your hand never stopped stroking him, making Hongjoong gasp in your mouth.

He closes his eyes lying down again, letting the pleasure invade his body, letting your touch calm him.

You bit your lip at the sight, his pretty face with a grimace of pleasure, his bare chest, his hands gripping your flesh, and his long dick, tip bright red dripping pre-cum.

Shit, you could cum only by seeing him like this.

“Are you ready, babe?” You ask softly, raising your hips to rub his tip in your sticky folds.

He opens his eyes, breathing heavily and locking his eyes with yours. He slowly nods, he's ready to do this, he's ready to give you all of it.

You can see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, so you lean back to kiss him to distract his mind from the first time.

As you kiss you slowly place his tip on your tight hole, you close your eyes at the stretch, it's been a long time since the last time you got intimate with someone.

And that someone was Seonghwa.

Completely sinking on his length, both of you moan. The stretch is exquisite, his long cock filling you completely.

You gasp out his name as you stay still for a moment, letting Hongjoong process it and adjust. His eyes are close and his hands grip your thighs.

“Are you okay? Can I move?” You murmur against his parted lips.

“Y-yes.. you can move.”

He nods, opening his eyes, watching you straighten up and place your hands on his chest for support. Hongjoong lets out a choked whimper when you start moving, the pace is slow but firm.

Immediately his head collapses on the pillow, eyes shut and hands rushing to grab your hips.

Holy fuck, this is better than he imagined the sex would be.

Your hips moving deliciously, your hands on his chest, your head tilting back in pleasure, your little whimpers, the light sound of slapping everytime your bodies connect.

Shit, this is heaven for him.

“Fuck, J-joong… You feel so good.” You pant almost urgently, you take one of his hands to place it directly on one of your breasts “Please touch me, babe..”

And he does, without hesitation he kneads your breast with a firm grip as his other hand gently helps you guide your hips upward.

For Hongjoong the sight is amazing, as you move up and down he is able to see how his cock disappears in your tight cunt.

"Fuck, baby." Hongjoong groans, his voice rough, strained with desire.

Before you can fully process it, he moves—swift and instinctive—flipping you onto your back, his body pressing down against yours.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips, but there’s no hesitation, no resistance. If anything, the shift only sends a new wave of heat flooding through you.

He hovers over you, breath uneven, eyes dark with something raw and unfiltered. His hands find your thighs, gripping tight as he spreads them further apart, settling between them like he was always meant to be there.

The way he looks at you—like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a shiver up your spine.

His lips crash onto yours again, but this time, there’s no hesitation, no uncertainty. Only hunger. A desperate need to be closer, to feel you, to lose himself in you. The kiss deepens, all tongue, heat, and breathless moans.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his forehead pressing against yours, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushes his dick inside your cunt again.

A broken moan slips from your lips, your fingers immediately flying to his back, nails digging in as he stretches you open.

He groans at the feeling, at the way your body welcomes him so perfectly, so warmly.

“Shit,” Hongjoong gasps, voice trembling as he buries himself deeper “You—fuck... you feel so good.”

Your legs wrap around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your body arching into him as pleasure blooms in waves.

You don’t even have words—just whimpers, just gasps, just the sound of his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He starts moving, slow at first, as if savoring every second. But the more you moan, the more you beg for more, the faster, rougher, deeper his thrusts become.

The room is filled with the sound of bodies moving in sync, breathless cries, the rhythmic creaking of the bed beneath you.

And in this moment, nothing else exists—just him, just you, just the overwhelming pleasure of finally having each other like this.

✮ ⋆

Outside, just beyond the door, Dann lingers in the shadows of the hallway. Her heart pounds in her chest as she listens, her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her sweater.

She feels sick. Angry. Humiliated all over again.

But she has a job to do.

She inches closer, careful to keep her footsteps silent against the polished floors. The muffled sound of movement reaches her ears—the rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed frame, your muffled moans.

Her stomach twists.

Carefully, she opens the door, letting a little space to see inside.

She immediately put her hands over her mouth while tears formed in her eyes. That scene in front of her eyes just makes her feel worse than that day at Wooyoung’s party, this time it feels more intimate, something that she shouldn't have been watching…

Something that she would never get to do with him.

‘Make sure they go through with it. We need this to work.’

Dann swallows hard. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching, shouldn’t feel like her entire world is crashing down around her.

But she closes the door, she stays.

Because this is just the beginning of your end.

✮ ⋆

Your hands tremble as you cling to him, his body pressed against yours, his warmth surrounding you like a force you never knew you needed this desperately.

“H-hongjoong…”

His name falls from your lips over and over, each syllable carrying the weight of everything you feel—the longing, the surrender, the undeniable connection weaving you together in ways neither of you fully understands yet.

Hongjoong moves above you with a newfound confidence, no longer hesitant, no longer doubting.

He follows the rhythm of your bodies, of your moans, of the way you gasp his name like it’s the only word you know.

His body begins to get tired, but he doesn’t stop—doesn’t dare stop—not when you feel this good, this right beneath him.

"Pretty..." He groans, forehead pressed to yours, voice thick with something more than just lust "I can't—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You can feel him unraveling, just as you are. It builds like a slow-burning fire, the pleasure coiling tight, higher and higher, until there’s no stopping it.

His fingers find yours, interlocking, pinning your hands above your head, grounding you to him. He kisses you—deep, desperate, like he wants to pour every unspoken emotion into it.

And when you fall apart, it’s not just pleasure that washes over you—it’s him. It’s the way he worships you with every touch, every thrust, every whispered moan against your lips.

You shatter together, his name a soft cry on your lips, his breath a broken gasp against your skin.

He collapses on top of you, breathless and with a dumb smile, he holds you as if afraid you’ll disappear, his arms wrapped around you like you’re something sacred.

And in that moment, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer, you realize—this isn’t just about desire.

This is something more.

Something deeper.

Something that neither of you can walk away from.

After a couple of minutes, the room is quiet now, except for the soft sounds of your mingled breaths, still uneven, still recovering.

Your bodies are tangled in the sheets, his warmth pressed against you as if he has no intention of letting go. His skin is slightly damp, and you can feel his heart racing beneath your palm, its rhythm slowing as the moments pass.

Neither of you speaks right away. There’s no need. The silence is comfortable, wrapped around you like the soft glow of the dim bedside lamp.

Hongjoong shifts slightly, just enough to press a lazy kiss against your shoulder before letting out a deep, satisfied sigh.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles, voice husky and thick with exhaustion.

You smile, brushing your fingers through his tousled hair.

“You always say that, Joong.”

He huffs, lifting his head just enough to look at you. His eyes, even in the dim light, are full of something so soft, so unguarded, it makes your heart clench.

“I mean it every time.” He murmurs.

Your chest tightens, and instead of answering, you cup his face, guiding him into a slow, lingering kiss. It’s different from before—no urgency, no desperation.

Just warmth. Just the quiet reassurance that this moment is real.

Hongjoong hums against your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours.

“I feel like I should say something cool right now,” He admits, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckle, running a thumb over his cheek.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something suave. Like in the movies.” He pauses “But my brain is kinda mush right now.”

You laugh, and he grins, obviously pleased with himself for making you do so.

For a while, you just lay there, exchanging kisses, whispering about nothing and everything—your favorite movies, how ridiculous Hongjoong looks when he squints without his glasses, how the ceiling has a tiny crack that you’ve never noticed before.

Eventually, the night catches up to you both, and your eyelids grow heavy.

Hongjoong lets out a small sigh, shifting slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he tightens his hold around you, burying his face in your hair.

“I should probably go home.” He mumbles, though he makes no effort to leave.

You hum in response, tracing small patterns on his back.

“You could stay.”

He goes still for a moment before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“If I do, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.”

Your heart stutters at his words, and instead of responding, you just hold him closer.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Hongjoong forces himself to sit up. You watch as he searches for his clothes, his movements slow, almost hesitant.

Before he can put his glasses back on, you reach out, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey,” You whisper.

He looks at you, and for a moment, you just stare at each other. Then, without thinking, you pull him back down for one last kiss—soft, sweet, and lingering.

When you finally pull away, he smiles against your lips.

“You’re dangerous.”

You smirk “And you love it.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he finally gets dressed. But just as he’s about to leave, you sit up, biting your lip, feeling something unfamiliar and terrifying tighten in your chest.

“Hongjoong.” You say, and he pauses at the door, turning back to you.

You hesitate for a moment, the words sitting heavy on your tongue. It’s not easy for you to be vulnerable—not like this.

But with him, it feels… safe.

“Maybe,” You start, voice softer than usual “Maybe we could try something.”

He blinks “Something?”

You swallow, forcing yourself to hold his gaze “You know… something more. Like, actually trying.”

Understanding dawns on his face, his mouth parts slightly, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag as if grounding himself.

Then, slowly, a smile—small, disbelieving, but full of something devastatingly tender—spreads across his lips.

“Are you serious?” He asks, voice careful, like he’s afraid you might take it back.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms “Forget it, nerd.”

“No, no, no!” He’s quick to step back toward the bed, hands raised in surrender “I just—I wasn’t expecting that.”

You huff, looking away, but he reaches out, gently tilting your chin back toward him.

“I want that,” He says, voice steady now “I want you.”

Something inside you melts, and before you can second-guess yourself, you pull him into another kiss.

When he finally leaves, there’s a different kind of warmth in your chest—one that has nothing to do with what just happened in bed.

And for the first time in a long time, the idea of something real, something more… doesn’t scare you as much as it used to.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The night air was cool as Hongjoong slipped back into his house, the door creaking softly as he closed it behind him.

This night with you was incredible, the night lingering in his mind like a sweet memory he never wanted to fade.

But as he entered the living room, the atmosphere felt heavier than usual.

His parents sat together on the couch, their faces drawn, their eyes clouded with worry. His mother’s fingers trembled around a cup of tea she hadn’t touched, and his father’s usually composed demeanor was cracked.

“Dear, there you are,” His mother says softly, her voice tight with concern “We need to talk.”

Hongjoong’s stomach drops. He’d never seen them like this before “What’s wrong?”

His father clears his throat, looking at him with a mixture of sadness and determination.

“I lost my job today.”

Hongjoong frezee. His mind can’t immediately process the words. His father had always been the pillar of stability in the house.

“What? But… I thought everything was going well.”

“It was,” His father replies, rubbing his temples “But the economy’s taken a toll, and the company had to make cuts. I’m part of that.”

Hongjoong’s heart sank as the weight of the situation began to settle in. His family wasn’t rich. They managed, but losing one income meant things would get tight.

They needed a solution.

“We’ll need to figure something out, Honey,” His mother adds, her voice breaking “We can’t cover everything without a steady income.”

Hongjoong clenches his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t want to see his parents struggling.

“I’ll get a job,” He says quickly, the words tumbling out before he has time to think them through “I’ll work. I can help.”

His parents exchanged a look, but his mother smiled faintly, her eyes filled with pride.

“Joong, you don’t have to—”

“No,” He interrupts, “I want to. I can help with expenses. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find something.”

His parents look at him with a mixture of pride and sadness, but they don’t argue.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Morning light filters through the grand windows of the estate, casting long shadows across the pristine floors. Dann moves through the halls like a ghost, her steps light, her eyes hollow.

The weight of last night clings to her like a second skin, suffocating, unbearable.

She barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again.

The way he touched you. The way you let him. The way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Her stomach churns, and she grips the strap of her bag tighter, forcing herself to focus. She just needs to get out of here, get to school, get some air—

“You look awful.”

Dann freezes.

Mike stands at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe of his bedroom, dressed in his usual expensive attire, a cup of coffee in one hand. He looks well-rested, refreshed.

Completely unaffected.

Her pulse stutters, but she doesn’t stop walking “I need to go.”

But Mike doesn’t move. Instead, he lifts his coffee to his lips, takes a slow sip, and smirks.

“Not before you tell me what I need to know.”

Dann clenches her jaw, her feet slowing to a reluctant stop. She doesn’t want to talk about this. She doesn’t want to think about it.

But Mike doesn’t have patience for hesitation. He tilts his head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did it happen?”

Her throat tightens. The words taste like poison

“Yes.”

Mike hums, pleased “Good.”

Dann grips her bag harder, her nails digging into her palms. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how humiliating it was, how painful it was to watch.

And then, just as she feared, he leans in slightly, voice lowering conspiratorially.

“Now, you need to start talking.”

She frowns “Talking?”

“You know how these things go, Dann,” He says, waving a hand lazily “Whispers spread faster than fire in that school. All you need to do is plant the seeds.”

Dann swallows “What are you saying?”

Mike smirks, stepping closer “Make sure everyone knows that the nerd finally got what he wanted. That once he got YN into bed, he lost interest. That he only chased her because she was a challenge—nothing more.”

Dann stiffens, her nails pressing into her skin “That’s not true.”

“Who cares?” He chuckles “Truth is irrelevant. What matters is perception.” He takes another sip of coffee before adding, “And as for YN? Well… make sure they see her for what she really is.” He pauses, then smirks cruelly “A desperate little whore.”

Dann flinches. Her stomach churns.

Miek studies her reaction, then sighs “Don’t tell me last night was too much for you.”

She lifts her chin, forcing her expression into something cold, detached.

“I’ll do it.”

He grins, satisfied “Perfect.”

And with that, he steps aside, letting her pass like he didn’t just shatter the last piece of her heart.

Dann forces herself to walk away. To keep moving. To pretend that she doesn’t feel like she’s falling apart.

Because this is just the beginning.

And there’s no turning back now.

✮ ⋆

The library is quieter than usual, the murmur of hushed conversations barely filling the vast space between the shelves. The scent of old books lingers in the air, but Dann barely notices it as she walks in, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She spots them instantly—Jongho, Yunho, and Yeosang—huddled together at a corner table, deep in conversation over an open textbook.

They don’t notice her at first, too focused on whatever pointless discussion they’re having. But they will.

Taking a slow breath, Dann straightens her shoulders and approaches their table. She places her hands flat against the polished wood, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her chest.

“Guess what.”

Jongho looks up first, brows raising in mild surprise. Yunho and Yeosang follow, exchanging glances before turning their attention to her.

“What is it, little one?” Yunho asks, leaning back in his chair.

Dann lets the silence stretch just long enough to draw curiosity. Then, with careful precision, she says.

“It’s about Joong.”

That gets their attention. Yeosang frowns, setting down his pen, while Jongho’s expression turns wary.

Yunho, however, snorts “What, YN banned him again?”

Dann forces herself to look hesitant, conflicted. Then she exhales and shakes her head.

“No, nothing like that. But…” She glances around, lowering her voice just enough to make them lean in “But I heard something last night. Something about him and YN.”

Yeosang tilts his head “What do you mean?”

Dann bites her lip, like she’s debating whether or not to say it. And then, just loud enough for the surrounding students to hear, she murmurs.

“I heard them.”

Yunho blinks “Heard them?”

She leans in, just slightly “Having sex.”

Silence crashes over the table like a tidal wave. Jongho’s eyes widen, Yeosang shifts uncomfortably, and Yunho lets out a low whistle.

Around them, the subtle rustling of books ceases. The library isn’t silent anymore—not really. Not when whispers have already started creeping through the aisles.

“No way,” Yeosang mutters.

Dann shrugs, feigning nonchalance “I was at the house. I heard everything.” Then, after a pause, she adds the final touch, the poison that will spread like wildfire “And you know what’s funny? He hasn’t even talked to her today.”

Jongho frowns “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Dann lowers her voice, but she knows they’re listening—everyone is listening.

“That maybe Hongjoong only wanted one thing. Maybe he was chasing her for a reason. And now that he got what he wanted…” She lets the words linger before shaking her head, looking almost pitying “Well, you can figure out the rest.”

Yunho looks uncertain “Dann, Hongjoong isn’t like that.”

Jongho, however, doesn’t seem convinced. He narrows his eyes at her.

“Why are you telling us this?”

Dann meets his gaze evenly “Because you’re his friends. And friends deserve to know the truth.”

She doesn’t wait for their response. She just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving behind a table of stunned boys and an entire library already buzzing with the news.

And just like that, the seed is planted.

✮ ⋆

The cafeteria hums with the usual morning chaos—laughter, the clatter of trays, the low murmur of gossip weaving through the air like an unshakable presence.

You sit at your usual table, gracefully stirring your iced matcha with a straw, your expression relaxed.

After yesterday night you have been feeling like that, relaxed. You don't know if it's because you got laid or because it was with Hongjoong.

Your phone sits next to you, Hongjoong’s message from earlier still lighting up the screen. You tap your nails against the table absently, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Joongie♡: Good morning, pretty. I won't go to school today :c

Joongie♡: See you tomorrow. Love you ♡

You don't mind that he isn’t here today. If anything, it keeps things interesting—gives him a chance to miss you.

But the moment of peace doesn’t last.

Wooyoung slides into the seat across from you, his face twisted in something between amusement and hesitation. Mingi follows right after, dropping his bag onto the bench with a sigh.

"You won’t believe what we just heard during practice, babydoll." Woo starts, resting his chin on his hand, eyes flicking over you carefully.

You don't look up from your drink "If it’s about last season’s failures, I really don’t care."

Mingi exhales, shaking his head "It’s about you. And the little nerd."

That catches your attention. You raise a perfectly arched brow.

"What about us?"

Wooyoung exchanges a glance with Mingi before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound more scandalous than necessary.

"Apparently, half the school thinks little Hongjoong finally got what he wanted from you… and now he’s done with you."

You blink. For a second, you just stare at him, then let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

"That’s ridiculous, guys."

"Yeah? Because it’s spreading like wildfire, babydoll." Woo says, voice more serious "People are saying he just wanted to sleep with you, and now that he has, he’s gonna drop you."

You roll your eyes, completely unbothered "You’re actually listening to this nonsense?"

Mingi tilts his head "I mean… The nerd is mysteriously absent today."

You scoff "He told me this morning that he wasn’t coming. He’s busy. This rumor is stupid."

But Mingi doesn’t look convinced "I’m just saying, doll, people are talking. You know how fast things spread in this school."

"I don’t care what people say," You cut in smoothly, picking up your drink again "Hongjoong wouldn’t do that. He’s—"

You pause.

He’s been sweet, devoted, always there. Hongjoong wouldn’t do that. Right?

Still, you push the thought away and fix them with a sharp look.

"Who started this stupid rumor?"

Mingi shrugs "Not sure, but people are saying Dann was the one who heard… something."

You still for half a second before exhaling slowly "Dann?"

Woo nods, stirring his own drink "Yeah. Apparently, she’s been telling people she heard you two…" He waggles his brows suggestively.

Your jaw tightens, your grip on her cup firm.

That bitch.

You knew Dann had always been lurking in the background, watching, waiting. But this? Spreading rumors about you and Hongjoong? That was low—even for a pathetic nerd.

But it doesn’t matter.

You exhale, letting your usual confidence settle back over you like armor.

"Let them talk," You say coolly, taking a slow sip of your drink "They’ll get bored soon enough."

But deep inside, a nagging feeling lingers.

And for the first time, she wonders. What if they’re right?

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong steps out of his house early, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets as he walks down the quiet streets of his neighborhood. His parents had already left—his mom to work, his dad to search for a new job.

He exhales, determination settling in his chest. He needs to help.

Skipping school wasn’t something he’d normally do, but this was more important. Finding a job meant easing the burden on his parents, making sure they didn’t have to worry so much.

He starts at a small convenience store a few blocks away.

“Sorry, kid. We’re not hiring right now.” The owner says with an apologetic smile.

Hongjoong nods, forcing a polite thank-you before heading to the next place.

A bakery.

“No positions open.”

A bookstore.

“We’re looking for someone with experience.”

A restaurant.

“Come back in a month. Maybe.”

By the afternoon, exhaustion creeps into his bones. He’s been walking around the city for hours, hearing rejection after rejection. His feet ache, his stomach grumbles, but he keeps going. He has to.

He checks his phone—past three o’clock. School was almost over. You had texted him earlier, but he hadn’t checked it yet.

He didn’t want you to worry, so he’d told you he’d see you tomorrow.

With a sigh, he rubs his face and glances around. His house is too far, but he decides to check one last place before heading home.

That’s when he spots it—Café Aurora.

A small, warm-looking café tucked between two buildings, the scent of coffee and pastries spilling into the air as a customer steps out.

He hesitates for a second, then pushes the door open.

The café is cozy, filled with soft chatter and the clinking of cups. A few students sit in the corner, studying. A couple shares a quiet conversation over steaming mugs.

Hongjoong walks up to the counter, his heart pounding slightly.

A girl stands behind the counter, wiping down the surface. She looks up at him, and her eyes widen slightly before she flashes him a bright smile.

“Hey there! Welcome to Café Aurora. What can I get you?”

She’s short, wavy brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail, bright eyes, a dimple on one cheek. Her name tag reads ‘Jina.’

Hongjoong clears his throat “Uh, actually… I was wondering if you guys are hiring?”

Jina blinks, then grins “Oh, really? Hang on.”

She disappears into the back, and Hongjoong lets out a breath. Please let this work.

A moment later, she returns with a middle-aged man in a dark apron.

“This is Mr. Lee, the owner.”

“You’re looking for a job?” Mr. Lee asks, crossing his arms.

“Yes, sir. I can work after school and on weekends.”

“You ever worked as a waiter before?”

Hongjoong shakes his head “No, but I’m a fast learner.”

The girl giggles “He looks like a fast learner.”

He glances at her, thrown off by the teasing tone. But Mr. Lee doesn’t seem to notice.

“We could use someone in the evenings. Can you start tomorrow?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen slightly. Really?

“Yes! I mean—yeah, I can.” He says quickly.

Mr. Lee nods “Jina will train you. Don’t be late.”

Hongjoong exhales in relief “Thank you.”

As Mr. Lee walks away, Jina leans on the counter, resting her chin on her palm.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” She says suddenly.

Hongjoong blinks. What did she say?

“I—uh—thanks?” He stammers.

She just grins “See you tomorrow, newbie.”

He leaves the café with a new job and a strange feeling in his chest. He finally found work. That’s all that should matter.

So why does he feel like things just got a little more complicated?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The usual morning buzz fills the hallways—students chatting by their lockers, laughter echoing from different corners, the occasional shout of someone running late to class.

You walk through the hall with your usual confidence, heels clicking against the polished floor.

You’re aware of the lingering stares, the hushed whispers—the rumor hasn’t died down completely.

But you don't acknowledge them. You act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Because to you, it’s ridiculous.

Hongjoong wouldn’t use you. Joong isn’t like that.

You spot him near his locker, talking with Jongho and Yunho. He’s laughing at something Yunho said, his head tilted slightly as he shakes his head.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the sight of him.

You saunter up to them, flipping your hair back “Morning, nerds.”

Hongjoong looks up, and just like always, his face softens when he sees you.

“Hey, pretty.”

You smirk at the nickname, ignoring how Yunho and Jongho exchange knowing looks.

You step closer to him, slipping your fingers into the front pocket of his leather jacket like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Hongjoong doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into your touch, his free hand brushing against your waist in a casual, familiar way.

They’ve always been close. But now, their closeness is undeniable.

Jongho clears his throat, smirking “You two look… cozy.”

“Yeah, should we give you some privacy?” Yunho teases.

You roll your eyes “You guys are so annoying, that's why we cannot be friends.” Hongjoong just chuckles. You turn to him, tilting your head slightly “Do you wanna do something after school? Maybe go to that new place downtown?”

You expect a quick yes. He never says no to you.

But this time, he hesitates. Just for a second.

Then, he rubs the back of his neck and says “I can’t, pretty. I’ll be busy.”

You blink “Busy?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate.

It’s… weird.

Hongjoong always makes time for you. Even when he had schoolwork, even when he had plans with his friends.

You come first.

And now, suddenly, he’s busy?

But you don't press. You just shrug, masking any hint of curiosity or doubt.

“Okay. Your loss.”

He chuckles, leaning down slightly “You mad?”

You scoff “Why would I be mad?”

He grins “Because you’re used to getting what you want.”

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. Instead, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back.

“Fine, I’ll let you off the hook—just this once.”

Hongjoong watches you with something unreadable in his eyes, but before you can question it, the bell rings.

“See you later, nerd.” You wave, walking off.

He watches you go, a small smile on his lips. But in the back of his mind, he knows—This is the first time he’s ever lied to you.

And it won’t be the last.

The following days felt different. Hongjoong kept his distance from you, his mind consumed with work and worrying about how to help his family.

He didn’t want to burden you with his struggles. You had your own world—one he wasn’t sure he belonged to anymore.

You, of course, didn’t know. Hongjoong kept his family’s situation quiet, not wanting anyone, especially you, to feel sorry for him. But it was hard.

The afternoons you used to spend together seemed further away now, and Hongjoong didn’t know how to bridge the gap that was forming between you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼

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